CHAPTER V

Bentzon—Astor.Married, on Monday morning, the 14th ult. [September], by the Rev. Mr. [Ralph] Williston, Adrian B. Bentzon, Esq., of the Isle of St. Croix, to Miss Magdalen Astor, daughter of John Jacob Astor of this city.

It was while on a cruise among the West Indies that Miss Astor met Mr. Bentzon, a Danish gentleman of good family but moderate fortune. In the early part of thelast century many ambitious foreigners went to that part of the world with the intention of making their fortunes.

Another daughter of John Jacob Astor, Eliza, married Count Vincent Rumpff, who was for some years Minister at the Court of the Tuileries from the Hanseatic towns of Germany. She was well known through life, and long remembered after death, for her symmetrical Christian character. One of her writings, entitled "Transplanted Flowers," has been published in conjunction with one of the Duchesse de Broglie, daughter of Madame de Staël, with whom she was intimately associated in her Christian works.

Henry Astor, the brother of John Jacob Astor, was the first of the family to come to America. I am able to state, upon the authority of the late Rev. Dr. Morgan Dix, rector of Trinity church in New York, and a life-long friend of the whole Astor connection, that he was a private in a Hessian regiment that fought against our colonies in the Revolutionary War. After its close he decided to remain in New York where he entered the employment of a butcher in the old Oswego market. He subsequently embarked upon more ambitious enterprises, became a highly successful business man and at his death left a large fortune to his childless widow. Dr. Dix has stated that it was probably through him that the younger brother came to this country. However this may be, John Jacob Astor sailed for America as a steerage passenger in a ship commanded by Capt. Jacob Stout and arrived in Baltimore in January, 1784. He subsequently went to New York, where he spent his first night in the house of George Dieterich, a fellow countryman whom he had known in Germany and by whom he was now employed to peddle cakes. After remaining in his employ for a time and accumulating a little money he hired a store of his own where he sold toys and German knickknacks. He afterwards addedskins and even musical instruments to his stock in trade, as will appear from the following inThe Daily Advertiserof New York, of the 2d of January, 1789, and following issues:

J. Jacob Astor,At No. 81, Queen-street,Next door but one to the Friends Meeting-House,Has for sale an assortment ofPiano fortes, of the newest construction,Made by the best makers in London, which he will sell onreasonable terms.He gives Cash for all kinds of FURS:And has for sale a quantity of Canada Beaver, andBeaver Coating, Racoon Skins, and Racoon Blankets,Muskrat Skins, &c. &c.

J. Jacob Astor,At No. 81, Queen-street,Next door but one to the Friends Meeting-House,Has for sale an assortment ofPiano fortes, of the newest construction,

Made by the best makers in London, which he will sell onreasonable terms.He gives Cash for all kinds of FURS:And has for sale a quantity of Canada Beaver, andBeaver Coating, Racoon Skins, and Racoon Blankets,Muskrat Skins, &c. &c.

It would seem that these Astor pianos were manufactured in London and that George Astor, an elder brother of John Jacob Astor, was associated with the latter in their sale. Indeed, one of them, formerly owned by the Clinton family and now in Washington's Headquarters in Newburgh, bears the name of "Geo. Astor & Co., Cornhill, London;" while still another in my immediate neighborhood in Washington has the inscription of "Astor and Camp, 79 Cornhill, London." Their octaves were few in number, and a pupil of Chopin would have regarded them with scorn; but upon these little spindle-legged affairs a duet could be performed. My first knowledge of instrumental music was derived from one of these pianos, and among the earliest recollections of my childhood is that of hearing my three maiden aunts, my father's sisters, playing in turn the inspiring Scotch airs upon the Astor piano that stood in their drawing-room. One of their songs was especially inimical to cloistered life and it, too, was possibly of Scotch origin. I am unable to recall its exact words, but its refrain ran as follows:

I will not be a nun,I can not be a nun,I shall not be a nun,I'm so fond of pleasureI'll not be a nun.

I own an original letter written by John Jacob Astor from New York on the 26th of April, 1826, addressed to ex-President James Monroe, my husband's grandfather, which I regard as interesting on account of its quaint style:

Dear Sir,Permit me to congratulate you on your Honourable retirement [from public life] for which I most sincerely wish you may enjoy that Peace and Tranquility to which you are so justly entitled.Without wishing to cause you any Inconveniency [sic] on account of the loan which I so long since made to you I would be glad if you would put it in a train of sittlelment [sic] if not the whole let it be a part with the interest Due.I hope Dear Sir that you and Mrs. Monroe enjoy the best of health and that you may live many years to wittness [sic] the Prosperity of the country to which you have so generously contributed.I am most Respectfully Dear Sir your obed S. &c.J. J. Astor.The Honble James Monroe.

Dear Sir,

Permit me to congratulate you on your Honourable retirement [from public life] for which I most sincerely wish you may enjoy that Peace and Tranquility to which you are so justly entitled.

Without wishing to cause you any Inconveniency [sic] on account of the loan which I so long since made to you I would be glad if you would put it in a train of sittlelment [sic] if not the whole let it be a part with the interest Due.

I hope Dear Sir that you and Mrs. Monroe enjoy the best of health and that you may live many years to wittness [sic] the Prosperity of the country to which you have so generously contributed.

I am most Respectfully Dear Sir your obed S. &c.

J. J. Astor.

The Honble James Monroe.

It may here be stated that Mr. Astor's solicitude concerning Mr. Monroe's financial obligation was duly relieved, and that the debt was paid in full.

John Jacob Astor's numerous descendants can lay this "flattering unction" to their souls, that every dollar of his vast wealth was accumulated through thrift while leading an upright life.

An old-fashioned stage coach in my early days ran between New York and Harlem, but the fashionable drivewas on the west side of the city along what was then called the "Bloomingdale Road." Many fashionable New Yorkers owned and occupied handsome country seats along this route, and closed their city homes for a period during the heated term. I recall with pleasure the home of the Prussian Consul General and Mrs. John William Schmidt, and especially their attractive daughters. Mr. Schmidt, who came to this country as a bachelor, married Miss Eliza Ann Bache of New York. Quite a number of years subsequent to this event, before they had children of their own, they adopted a little girl whom they named Julia and whom I knew very well in my early girlhood. As equestrian exercise was popular in New York at that time, many of the young men and women riding on the Bloomingdale Road would stop at the Schmidts' hospitable home, rest their horses and enjoy a pleasing half-hour's conversation with the daughters of the household. Among the fair riders was Mary Tallmadge, a famous beauty and a daughter of General James Tallmadge. During her early life and at a period when visits abroad were few and far between, her father accompanied her to Europe. During her travels on the continent she visited St. Petersburg, where her beauty created a great sensation. While there the Emperor Nicholas I. presented her with a handsome India shawl. She returned to America, married Philip S. Van Rensselaer, a son of the old Patroon, and lived for many years on Washington Square in New York.

Alexander Hamilton and family also owned and occupied a house in this charming suburb called "The Grange." It was subsequently occupied by Herman Thorne, who had married Miss Jane Mary Jauncey, a wealthy heiress of New York. He lived in this house only a few years when he went with his wife to reside in Paris during the reign of Louis Philippe. Mr. Thorne became the most prominent American resident there andexcited the envy of many of his countrymen by his lavish expenditure of money. His daughters made foreign matrimonial alliances. He was originally from Schenectady, for a time was a purser in the U.S. Navy, and was remarkable for his handsome presence and courtly bearing.

Jacob Lorillard lived in a handsome house in Manhattanville, a short distance from the Bloomingdale Road. He began life, first as an apprentice and then as a proprietor, in the tanning and hide business, and his tannery was on Pearl Street. He then, with his brothers, embarked in the manufacture and sale of snuff and tobacco, in which, as is well known, he amassed an immense fortune. My earliest recollection of the family is in the days of its great prosperity. One of Mr. Lorillard's daughters, Julia, who married Daniel Edgar, I knew very well, and I recall a visit I once made her in her beautiful home, where I also attended her wedding a few years later. At this time her mother was a widow, and shortly after the marriage the place was sold to the Catholic order of theSacre Coeur. Mrs. Jacob Lorillard was a daughter of the Rev. Doctor Johann Christoff Kunze, professor of Oriental Languages in Columbia College.

Many years ago the wags of London exhausted their wits in fittingly characterizing and ridiculing the numerous equipages of a London manufacturer of snuff and tobacco. One couplet suggestive of the manner in which this vast wealth was acquired, was

Who would have thought itThat Noses had bought it.

The suitor of the daughter of this wealthy Englishman was appropriately dubbed "Up to Snuff." Alas, this ancestral and aristocratic luxury of snuff departed many years ago, but succeeding generations have been "up to snuff" in many other ways. The gold snuff-box frequently studded with gems which I remember so well in days gone by and especially at the home Gouverneur Kemble in Cold Spring, where it was passed around and freely used by both men and women, now commands no respect except as an ancestral curio. Dryden, Dean Swift, Pope, Addison, Lord Chesterfield, Dr. Johnson, Garrick, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Keats, Charles Lamb, Gibbon, Walter Scott and Darwin were among the prominent worshipers of the snuff-box and its contents, while some of them indulged in the habit to the degree of intemperance. In describing his manner of using the snuff-box Gibbon wrote: "I drew my snuff-box, rapped it, took snuff twice, and continued my discourse in my usual attitude of my body bent forwards, and my fore-finger stretched out;" and Boswell wrote in its praise:

Oh, snuff! our fashionable end and aim—Strasburgh, Rappe, Dutch, Scotch—whate'er thy name!Powder celestial! quintessence divineNew joys entrance my soul while thou art mine;Who takes? who takes thee not? Where'er I rangeI smell thy sweets from Pall Mall to the 'Change.

While the spirit of patriotism was as prevalent in early New York as it is now, it seems to me that it was somewhat less demonstrative. The 4th of July, however, was anticipated by the youngsters of the day with the greatest eagerness and pleasure. It was the habit of my father, for many years, to take us children early in the morning to the City Hall to attend the official observances of the day, an experience which we naturally regarded as a great privilege. Booths were temporarily erected all along the pavement in front of the City Hall, where substantial food was displayed and sold to the crowds collected to assist in celebrating the day. About noon several military companies arrived upon the scene and took their positions in the park, where, after a number of interesting maneuvers, a salute was fired which was terrifying to my youthful nerves. Small boys, then as now, provided themselves with pistols, and human life was occasionally sacrificed to patriotic ardor, although I never remember hearing of cases of lockjaw resulting from such accidents, as is so frequently the case at present. Firecrackers and torpedoes were then in vogue, but skyrockets and more elaborate fireworks had not then come into general use. I do not recall that the national flag was especially prominent upon the "glorious fourth," and it is my impression that this insignia of patriotism was not universally displayed upon patriotic occasions until the Civil War.

The musical world of New York lay dormant until about the year 1825, when Dominick Lynch, much to the delight of the cultivated classes, introduced the Italian Opera. Through his instrumentality Madame Malibran, her father, Signor Garcia, and her brother, Manuel Garcia, who by the way died abroad in 1906, nearly ninety-nine years of age, came to this country and remained for quite a period. I have heard many sad traditions regarding Malibran, whose name is certainly immortal in the annals of the musical world. Mr. Lynch was the social leader of his day in New York, was æsthetic in his tastes, and possessed a highly cultivated voice. He frequently sang the beautiful old ballads so much in vogue at that period. I have heard through Mrs. Samuel L. Hinckley, an old friend of mine, who remembered the incident, that during a visit to Boston when he sang Tom Moore's pathetic ballad, "Oft in the Stilly Night," there was scarcely a dry eye in the room. In referring to the introduction of the Italian Opera into this country Dr. John W. Francis in his "Old New York" thus speaks of Dominick Lynch: "For this advantageous accession to the resources of mental gratification, we were indebted to the taste and refinement of Dominick Lynch, the liberality of the manager of the Park Theater, Stephen Price, and the distinguished reputation of the Venetian, Lorenzo Da Ponte. Lynch, a native of New York, was the acknowledged head of the fashionable and festive board, a gentleman of the ton and a melodist of great powers and of exquisite taste; he had long striven to enhance the character of our music; he was the master of English song, but he felt, from his close cultivation of music and his knowledge of the genius of his countrymen, that much was wanting, and that more could be accomplished, and he sought out, while in Europe, an Italiantroupe, which his persuasive eloquence and the liberal spirit of Price led to embark for our shores where they arrived in November, 1825." Stephen Price here referred to by Dr. Francis was the manager of the old Park Theater. Dominick Lynch's grandson, Nicholas Luquer, who with his charming wife, formerly Miss Helen K. Shelton of New York, resides in Washington, and his son, Lynch Luquer, inherit the musical ability of their ancestor.

The great actors of the day performed in the Park Theater. I also vividly remember the Bowery Theater, as well as in subsequent years Burton's Theater in Chambers Street and the Astor Place Theater. When William C. Macready, the great English actor, was performing in the latter in 1849 a riot occurred caused by the jealousy existing between him and his American rival, Edwin Forrest. Forrest had not been well received in England owing, as he believed, to the unfriendly influence of Macready. While the latter was considered by many the better actor, Forrest was exceptionally popular with a certain class of people in New York whose sympathies were easily enlisted and whose passions were readily aroused. During the evening referred to, while Macready was acting in therôleof Macbeth, a determined mob attacked the theater, and the riot was not quelled until after a bitter struggle, in which the police and the military were engaged, and during which twenty-one were killed and thirty-three wounded.

In consequence of this unfortunate rivalry and its bloody results, Forrest became morbid, and his domestic infelicities that followed served to still further embitter his life. In 1850 his wife instituted proceedings for divorce in the Superior Court of the City of New York, and the trial was protracted for two years. She was represented by the eminent jurist, Charles O'Conor, while Forrest employed "Prince" John Van Buren, son of the ex-President. The legal struggle was one of the most celebrated in the annals of the New York bar. There was abundant evidence of moral delinquency on the part of both parties to the suit, but the verdict was in favor of Mrs. Forrest. She was the daughter of John Sinclair, formerly a drummer in the English army and subsequently a professional singer. James Gordon Bennett said of her in theHeraldthat "being born and schooled in turmoil and dissipation and reared in constant excitement she could not live without it."

I have heard it said that one day John Van Buren was asked by a disgruntled friend at the close of a hotly contested suit whether there was any case so vile or disreputable that he would refuse to act as counsel for the accused. The quick response was: "I must first know the circumstances of the case; but what have you been doing?" Dr. Valentine Mott, who for many years was a resident of Paris, gave a fancy-dress ball in New York in honor of the Prince de Joinville, son of Louis Philippe. At this entertainment John Van Buren appeared in the usual evening dress with a red sash tied around his waist. Much to the amusement of the guests whom he met, his salutation was: "Would you know me?" It will be remembered that he was familiarly called "Prince John," owing to the fact that he had once danced with Queen Victoria prior to her ascension to the throne. One day Van Buren met on the street James T. Brady, a lawyer of equal ability and wit, who had recently returned from avisit to England. In a most patronizing manner he inquired whether he had seen the Queen. "Certainly," said Mr. Brady, "and under these circumstances. I was walking along the street when by chance the Queen's carriage overtook me, and the moment Her Majesty's eye lighted upon me she exclaimed: 'Hello, Jim Brady, when did you hear from John Van Buren?'" I recall another amusing anecdote about John Van Buren during my school days. Mustaches were at that time worn chiefly by the sporting element. Mr. Van Buren, who was very attentive to Catharine Theodora Duer, a daughter of President William Alexander Duer of Columbia College, and who, by the way, never married, adopted this style of facial adornment, but the young woman objecting to it he cut it off and sent it to her in a letter. Prince John Van Buren's daughter, Miss Anna Vander Poel Van Buren, many years thereafter, married Edward Alexander Duer, a nephew of this Catharine Theodora Duer.

It was my very great pleasure to know Fanny Kemble and her father, Charles Kemble. She was, indeed, the queen of tragedy, and delighted the histrionic world of New York by her remarkable rendering of the plays of Shakespeare. In later years when I heard her give Shakespearian readings, I regarded the occasion as an epoch in my life. In this connection I venture to express my surprise that the classical English quotations so pleasing to the ear in former days are now so seldom heard. It seems unfortunate that the epigrammatic sentences, for example, of grand old Dr. Samuel Johnson have become almost obsolete. In former years Byron appealed to the sentiment, while the more ambitious quoted Greek maxims. The sayings of the old authors were recalled, mingled with the current topics of the day. It would seem, however, that the present generation is decidedly more interested in quotations from the stock exchange. Edmund Burke said that "the age of chivalry is gone,that of sophists, economists, and calculators has succeeded."

Upon her return to England Fanny Kemble published her journal kept while in the United States, which was by no means pleasing in every respect to her American readers. It is said that in one of her literary effusions she dwelt upon a custom, which she claimed was prevalent in America, of parents naming their children after classical heroes, and gave as an example a child in New York who bore the name of Alfonzo Alonzo Agamemnon Dionysius Bogardus. The sister of this youth, she stated, was named Clementina Seraphina Imogen. I think this statement must have been evolved from her own brain, as it would be difficult to conceive of parents who would consent to make their children notorious in such a ridiculous manner. Fanny Kemble married Pierce Butler, a lawyer of ability and cousin of the U.S. Senator from South Carolina of the same name, and they were divorced in 1849, when the Hon. George M. Dallas was counsel for Fanny Kemble and Rufus Choate appeared for her husband.

Fanny Elssler, a queen of grace and beauty on the stage, delighted immense audiences at the Park Theater. She came to this country under the auspices of Chevalier Henry Wikoff, a roving but accomplished soldier of fortune, who pitched his camp in both continents. Upon her arrival in New York the "divine Fanny," as she was invariably called, was borne to her destination in a carriage from which the horses had been detached by her enthusiasticadorateurs, led by August Belmont. She was, indeed,

A being so fair that the same lips and eyesShe bore on earth might serve in Paradise.

At this distant day it seems almost impossible to describe her. She seemed to float upon the stage sustained only by the surrounding atmosphere. In my opinion shehas never had a rival, with the possible exception of Taglioni, the great Swedishdanseuse. I saw Fanny Elssler dance thecracovienneand thecachucha, and it is a memory which will linger with me always. The music that accompanied these dances was generally selected from the popular airs of the day. Many dark stories were afloat concerning Fanny Elssler's private life, but to me it seems impossible to associate her angelic presence with anything but her wonderful art. She was never received socially in New York; indeed, the only person that I remember connected with the stage in my early days who had the socialentréewas Fanny Kemble.

We attended the Dutch Reformed Church in New York of which the Rev. Dr. Jacob Brodhead was for many years the pastor. My aunts, however, attended one of the three collegiate churches in the lower part of the city, and I sometimes accompanied them and, as there was a frequent interchange of pulpits, I became quite accustomed to hear all of the three clergymen. The Rev. Dr. John Knox, who endeared himself to his flock by his gentle and appealing ministrations; the Rev. Dr. Thomas De Witt, a profound theologian and courtly gentleman; and the Rev. Dr. William C. Brownlee, with his vigorous Scotch accent, preaching against what he invariably called "papery" (popery), and recalling, as he did, John Knox of old, that irritating thorn in the side of the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, made up this remarkable trio. During the latter part of his life Dr. Brownlee suffered from a stroke of paralysis which rendered him speechless, and his Catholic adversaries improved this opportunity to circulate the report that he had been visited by a judgment from Heaven.

There were many shining lights in the Episcopal Church at this time in New York. The Rev. Dr. William Berrian was the acceptable rector of St. John's, which was then as now a chapel of Trinity Parish. The Rev. Dr. FrancisL. Hawks was the popular rector of St. Thomas's church, on the corner of Broadway and Houston Streets. He was a North Carolinian by birth, but is said to have been in part of Indian descent. I recall with pleasure his masterly rendition of the Episcopal service. During the Civil War he made it quite apparent to his parishioners that his sympathies were with the South, and as most of them did not share his views he moved to Baltimore, where a more congenial atmosphere surrounded him.

The Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, senior, was the rector of St. George's Episcopal church in the lower part of the city. He was a theologian of the Low-Church school and was greatly esteemed by all of his colleagues. His son, the Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, junior, was in full sympathy with the Low-Church views of his father, and will be recalled as an evangelical preacher of exceptional power and wide influence. In the summer of 1867 he preached, in defiance of the canons of the Episcopal Church, in St. James's Methodist church in New Brunswick, N.J., thus invading without authority the parishes of the Rev. Dr. Alfred Stubs and the Rev. Dr. Edward B. Boggs of that city. His trial was of sensational interest, and resulted, as will be remembered, in his conviction. The attitude of the Tyngs, father and son, was humorously described by Anthony Bleecker, a well-known wit of the day, in these verses:

Tyng, Junior.I preach from barrels and from tubs,In spite of Boggs, in spite of Stubs;I'll preach from stumps, I'll preach from logs,In spite of Stubs, in spite of Boggs.Tyng, Senior.Do, Steve; and lay aside your gown,Your bands and surplice throw them down;A bob-tail coat of tweed or kerseyIs good enough at least for Jersey.Tyng, Junior.What if the Bishops interfere,And I am made a culprit clear;Can't you a thunderbolt then forge,And hurl it in the new St. George?Tyng, Senior.Be sure I can and out of spiteA wrathy sermon I'll indite;I'll score the court and every judgeAnd call the whole proceedings fudge;And worse than that each reverent nameI'll bellow through the trump of fame;With Bishop Potter I'll get even,And make you out the martyr Stephen.

Tyng, Junior.

I preach from barrels and from tubs,In spite of Boggs, in spite of Stubs;I'll preach from stumps, I'll preach from logs,In spite of Stubs, in spite of Boggs.

Tyng, Senior.

Do, Steve; and lay aside your gown,Your bands and surplice throw them down;A bob-tail coat of tweed or kerseyIs good enough at least for Jersey.

Tyng, Junior.

What if the Bishops interfere,And I am made a culprit clear;Can't you a thunderbolt then forge,And hurl it in the new St. George?

Tyng, Senior.

Be sure I can and out of spiteA wrathy sermon I'll indite;I'll score the court and every judgeAnd call the whole proceedings fudge;And worse than that each reverent nameI'll bellow through the trump of fame;With Bishop Potter I'll get even,And make you out the martyr Stephen.

The Rev. Dr. Orville Dewey, renowned for his intellectual attainments, preached in the Unitarian church in Mercer Street. In subsequent years his sermons were published and I understand are still read with much interest and pleasure. Archbishop John Hughes, whom I knew quite well, was the controlling power in the Roman Catholic Church. He possessed the affectionate regard of the whole community, and naturally commanded a wide influence. A Roman Catholic told me many years ago that, upon one of the visits of the Archbishop to St. Peter's church, he took the congregation to task for their exclusiveness, exclaiming: "You lock up your pews and exclude the marrow of the land."

I knew very well the Rev. Charles Constantine Pise, the first native-born Catholic to officiate in St. Joseph's church on Sixth Avenue. He was of Italian parentage and was remarkable for his great physical attractiveness. In addition to his fine appearance, he was exceedingly social in his tastes and was consequently a highly agreeable guest. He cultivated the muses to a modest degree, and I have several of his poetical effusions, one of which was addressed to me. In spite of the admiration he commanded from both men and women, irrespective of creed,life seemed to present to him but few allurements. Archbishop Hughes sent him to a small Long Island parish where, after laboring long and earnestly, he closed his earthly career. An anecdote is related of this pious man which I believe to be true. A young woman quite forgetful of the proprieties and conventionalties of life, but with decided matrimonial proclivities, made Father Pise an offer of her fortune, heart and hand. In a dignified manner he advised her to give her heart to God, her money to the poor, and her hand to the man who asked for it. Prior to his rectorship of St. Joseph's church in New York, Father Pise, who was an intimate friend of Henry Clay, served as Chaplain of the U.S. Senate during a portion of the 22d Congress. At the National Capital as well as in New York he was exceptionally popular, making many converts, especially among young women, and preaching to congregations in churches so densely crowded that it was difficult to obtain even standing room.

I cannot pass the Roman Catholic clergy without some reference to the Rev. Felix Varela, a priest of Spanish descent and, it is said, of noble birth, who was sent from Cuba to Spain as one of the deputies to the Cortes from his native island. His church was St. Peter's in Barclay Street. It would be difficult for any words to do justice to his life of self-abnegation or to his adherence to the precepts of his Divine Master. It is with pleasure, therefore, that I relate the following story, for the truth of which I can vouch. A policeman found a handsome pair of silver candlesticks in the custody of a poor unfortunate man, and as they bore upon them a distinctive coat of arms he arrested him. On his way to prison the suspected criminal begged to see Father Varela for a moment, and as his residence wasen routeto the station house the officer granted his request. This good priest informed the policeman with much reluctance that the candlesticks hadformerly belonged to him, and that he had given them to his prisoner to buy bread for his family. My father was so deeply in sympathy with the life and character of this priest that, although of a different faith, he seldom heard his name mentioned without an expression of admiration for his life and character.

There was a French Protestant church in Franklin Street ministered to by the Rev. Dr. Antoine Verren, whose wife was a daughter of Thomas Hammersley. I also remember very well a Presbyterian church on Laight Street, opposite St. John's Park, the rector of which was the Rev. Dr. Samuel H. Cox, an uncle of the late Bishop Arthur Cleveland Cox of the Episcopal Church. Dr. Cox was a prominent abolitionist, and when we were living on Hubert Street, just around the corner, this church was stoned by a mob because the rector had expressed his anti-slavery views too freely.

The mode of conducting funerals in former days in New York differed very materially from the customs now in vogue. While the coffins of the well-to-do were made entirely of mahogany and without handles, I have always understood that persons of the Hebrew faith buried their dead in pine coffins, as they believed this wood to be more durable. Pall-bearers wore white linen scarfs three yards long with a rosette of the same material fastened on one shoulder, which, together with a pair of black gloves, was always presented by the family. It was originally the intention that the linen scarf should be used after the funeral for making a shirt. Funerals from churches were not as customary as at the present time. If the body was to be interred within the city limits every one attending the services, including the family, walked to the cemetery. It was unusual for a woman to be seen at a funeral.

But the whole social tone of New York society was morede rigueurthan now. Sometimes, for example, persons living under a cloud of insufficient magnitude to place thembehind prison bars, feeling their disgrace, took flight for Texas. Instead of placing the conventionalP.P.C.on their cards the lettersG.T.T.were used, meaning that the self-expatriated ne'er-do-well had "gone to Texas." I have always understood that in Great Britain the transgressor sought the Continent, where he was often enabled to pass into oblivion. In this manner both countries were relieved of patriots who "left their country for their country's good." As an example, I remember hearing in my early life of an Englishman named de Roos, who had the unfortunate habit of arranging cards to suit his own fancy. When hisconfrèresfinally caught him in the act he left hurriedly for the Continent.

In 1842 the U.S. sloop of warSomersarrived in New York, and the country was startled by the accounts of what has since been known as the "Somers Mutiny." The Captain of the ship was Commander Alexander Slidell Mackenzie, whose original surname was Slidell. He was a brother of the Hon. John Slidell, at one time U.S. Senator from Louisiana, who, during the Civil War, while on his passage to England on theTrentas a representative of the Southern Confederacy in England, was captured by Captain Charles Wilkes of the U.S. Navy. The result of the alleged mutiny was the execution, by hanging at the yard arm, of Philip Spencer, a son of the celebrated New York lawyer, John C. Spencer, President Tyler's Secretary of War, and of two sailors, Samuel Cromwell and Elisha Small. It was charged that they had conspired to capture the ship and set adrift or murder her officers. Being far from any home port, and uncertain of the extent to which the spirit of disaffection had permeated the crew, Mackenzie consulted the officers of his ship as to the proper course for him to pursue. In accordance with their advice, and after only a preliminary examination of witnesses and no formal trial with testimony for the defense, they were, as just stated, summarily executed.

I speak from the point of view of the legal element of New York, as my father's associates were nearly all professional men. The world was aghast upon receiving the news that three men had been hurled into eternity without judge or jury. Spencer was a lad of less than nineteen and a midshipman. Although Captain Mackenzie's action was sustained by the court of inquiry, which was convened in his case, as well as by theesprit de corpsof the Navy, public feeling ran so high that a court martial was ordered. His trial of two months' duration took place at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and resulted in a verdict of "not proven." The judge-advocate of the court was Mr. William H. Norris of Baltimore, and Mackenzie was defended by Mr. George Griffith and Mr. John Duer, the latter of whom was the distinguished New York jurist and the uncle of Captain Mackenzie's wife. At the request of the Hon. John C. Spencer, Benjamin F. Butler and Charles O'Conor, leaders of the New York bar, formally applied for permission to ask questions approved by the court and to offer testimony, but the request was refused—"so that," as Thomas H. Benton expressed it, "at the longpost mortemtrial which was given to the boy after his death, the father was not allowed to ask one question in favor of his son." After a lapse of sixty-nine years, judging from Mackenzie's report to the Navy Department, it almost seems as if he possessed a touch of mediæval superstition. He speaks of Spencer giving money and tobacco to the crew, of his being extremely intimate with them, that he had a strange flashing of the eye, and finally that he was in the habit of amusing the sailors by making music with his jaws. Mackenzie in his official report stated that this lad "had the faculty of throwing his jaw out of joint and by contact of the bones playing with accuracy and elegance a variety of airs." James Fenimore Cooper stated it as his opinion, "that such was the obliquity of intellect shown by Mackenzie in the whole affair, that no analysis of his motives can be made on any consistent principle of human action;" and the distinguished statesman, Thomas H. Benton, whose critical and lengthy review of the whole case would seem to carry conviction to unprejudiced minds, declared that the three men "died innocent, as history will tell and show."

The proceedings of the Mackenzie trial were eagerly read by an interested public. As I remember the testimony given regarding Spencer's last moments upon earth, Mackenzie announced to the youthful culprit that he had but ten minutes to live. He fell at once upon his knees and exclaimed that he was not fit to die, and the Captain replied that he was aware of the fact, but could not help it. It is recorded that he read his Bible and Prayer-Book, and that the Captain referred him to the "penitent thief;" but when he pleaded that his fate would kill his mother and injure his father, Mackenzie made the inconsiderate reply that the best and only service he could render his father was to die.

I recall a conversation bearing upon theSomerstragedy which I overheard between my father and his early friend, Thomas Morris, when their indignation was boundless. The latter's son, Lieutenant Charles W. Morris, U.S.N., had made several cruises with the alleged mutineer Cromwell. Meeting Mackenzie he stated this fact, saying at the same time that he found him a well-disposed and capable seaman. Mackenzie quickly responded that "he had a bad eye," and then Lieutenant Morris recalled that the unfortunate man had a cast in one eye.

A few years after his court-martial Mackenzie fell dead from his horse. One of the wardroom officers of theSomerswas Adrian Déslonde of Louisiana, whose sister married the Hon. John Slidell, of whom I have already spoken as Commander Mackenzie's brother.

I seldom hear the name of John Slidell without beingreminded of a witticism which I heard from my mother's lips, the author of which was Louisa Fairlie, a daughter of Major James Fairlie, who, during the War of the Revolution, served upon General Steuben's staff. She was, I have understood, a great belle with a power of repartee which bordered upon genius. During the youth of John Slidell he attended a dinner at a prominent New York residence and sat at the table next to Miss Fairlie. In a tactless manner he made a pointedly unpleasant remark bearing upon the marriage of her sister Mary to the distinguished actor, Thomas Apthorpe Cooper, a subject upon which the Fairlie family was somewhat sensitive. Miss Fairlie regarded Mr. Slidell for only a moment, and then retorted: "Sir, you have beendippednotmouldedinto society"—an incident which, by the way, I heard repeated many years later at a dinner in China. To appreciate this witticism, one may refer to the New York directory of 1789, which describes John Slidell, the father of the Slidell of whom we are speaking, as "soap boiler and chandler, 104 Broadway." Miss Fairlie's pun seems to me to be quite equal to that of Rufus Choate, who, when a certain Baptist minister described himself as "a candle of the Lord," remarked, "Then you are a dipped, but I hope not a wick-ed candle." It is said that upon another occasion, after the return of Mr. Slidell from a foreign trip, he was asked by Miss Fairlie whether he had been to Greece. He replied in the negative and asked the reason for her query. "Oh, nothing," she said, "only it would have been very natural for you to visit Greece in order to renew early associations!" Many years thereafter Priscilla Cooper, the wife of Robert Tyler and the daughter-in-law of President John Tyler, a daughter of Thomas Apthorpe Cooper and his wife, Mary Fairlie, presided at the White House during the widowhood of her distinguished father-in-law.

As has already been stated, the father of the Hon. JohnSlidell was a chandler, and he conducted his business with such success that in time he became prominent in mercantile and financial circles, and eventually was made president of the Mechanics Bank and the Tradesmen's Insurance Company. His son John, who at first engaged in his father's soap and tallow business as an apprentice, finally succeeded him, and the enterprise was continued under the firm name of "John Slidell, Jr. and Company." The house failed, however, and it is said that this fact, together with the scandal attending his duel with Stephen Price, manager of the Park Theater, in which the latter was wounded, were the controlling factors that led the future Hon. John Slidell to remove his residence to New Orleans. In this place he became highly celebrated as a lawyer, and his successful political career is well known. He married Miss Marie Mathilde Déslonde, a member of a well-known Creole family, and many persons still living will recall her grace andsavoir fairein Washington when her husband represented Louisiana in the United States Senate. Miss Jane Slidell, a sister of the Hon. John Slidell, married Commodore Matthew C. Perry, U.S.N., who opened the doors of Japan to the trade of the world, and whose daughter, Caroline Slidell Perry, became the wife of the late August Belmont of New York, while Julia, another of Mr. Slidell's sisters, married the late Rear Admiral C. R. P. Rodgers,U.S.N.

When I was about ten years of age, accompanied by my parents, I made a visit to Long Branch, which was then one of the most fashionable summer resorts for New Yorkers. As we made the journey by steamboat and the water was rough we were the victims of a violent attack of seasickness from which few of the passengers escaped. Many Philadelphians also spent their summers at this resort, and there was naturally a fair sprinkling of people from other large cities. At that time there were no hotels in the place, but there was one commodious boarding house which accommodated a large number of guests. It bore no name, but was designated as "Mrs. Sairs'," from its proprietress. In this establishment our whole family, by no means small, found accommodations. I recall many pleasant acquaintances we made while there, especially that of Miss Molly Hamilton of Philadelphia. She was a vivacious old lady, and was accompanied by her nephew, Hamilton Beckett, in whom I found a congenial playmate. His name made a strong impression upon my memory, as I was then reading the history of Thomas à Becket, the murdered Archbishop of Canterbury. I have heard that this friend of my childhood went eventually to England to reside. The Penningtons of Newark had a cottage near us. William Pennington subsequently became Governor of New Jersey. I also enjoyed the youthful companionship of his daughter Mary, whom many years later I met in Washington. In the interval she had become a pronounced belle and the wife of Hugh A. Toler of Newark.

The guests of the boarding house were inclined to complain that the beach was too exclusively appropriated by two acquaintances of ours who were living in the same house with us, Mrs. G. W. Featherstonhaugh and Mrs. Thomas M. Willing, and their train of admirers. They were sprightly young women and daughters of Bernard Moore Carter of Virginia. I remember it was the gossip of the place that both of them could count their offers of marriage by the score. Mrs. Willing was a skilled performer upon the harp, an instrument then much in vogue, but whose silvery tones are now, alas, only memory's echo. Mr. Featherstonhaugh, who was by birth an Englishman, after residing in the United States a few years, wrote in 1847 a book entitled "Excursion through the Slave States from Washington on the Potomac to the Frontier of Mexico." I recall that in this volume he spoke with enthusiasm of theagrémentsof the palate which he enjoyed during a few days' sojourn at Barnum's Hotel in Baltimore. He dwelt particularly, with gastronomic ecstasy, upon the canvas-back duck and soft-shell crab upon which he feasted, and was inclined to draw an unfavorable comparison between the former hotel and Gadsby's, the well-known Washington hostelry. Upon his journey he visited Monticello, the former home of Thomas Jefferson. His encomium on this distinguished man appealed to me as I am sure it does to others; he spoke of him as the "Confucius of his country." Altogether, Mr. Featherstonhaugh's experiences in America were as novel and entertaining as a sojourn with Aborigines.

Just off the beach at Long Branch was a high bluff which descended gradually to the sea, and at this point were several primitive bath houses belonging to Mrs. Sairs' establishment. Following the prevalent custom, we wore no bathing shoes and stockings, but, accompanied by a stalwart bathing master, we enjoyed many dips in the briny deep, and were brought safely back by him toour bath house. There was no immodest lingering on the beach; this privilege was reserved for the advanced civilization of a later day.

While I was still a young child, and some years after our visit to Long Branch, my infant brother Malcolm became seriously ill. Dr. John W. Francis, our family physician, prescribed a change of air for him, and my parents took him to Newport. We found pleasant accommodations for our family in a fashionable boarding house on Thames Street, the guests of which were composed almost exclusively of Southern families. Newport was then in an exceedingly primitive state and I have no recollection of seeing either cottages or hotels, while modern improvements were unknown. We led a simple outdoor life, taking our breakfast at eight, dining at two and supping at six. It was indeed "early to bed and early to rise."

As I recall these early days in Newport, two fascinating old ladies, typical Southern gentlewomen, the Misses Philippa and Hetty Minus of Savannah, present themselves vividly to my memory. After we returned to our New York home we had the pleasure of meeting them again and entertaining them. Another charming guest of our establishment was the wife of James L. Pettigru, an eminent citizen of South Carolina. She was the first woman of fashion presented to my girlish vision, and her mode of life was a revelation. She kept very late hours, often lingering in her room the next morning until midday. As I was then familiar with Miss Edgeworth's books for young people, which all judicious parents purchased for their children, I immediately designated Mrs. Pettigru as "Lady Delacour," whose habits and fashions are so pleasingly described in that admirable novel, "Belinda." Although born and bred in South Carolina, Mr. Pettigru remained loyal to the Union, and after his death his valuable library was purchased by Congress. The members of another representative South Carolina family,the Allstons, were also among our fellow boarders at Long Branch. This name always brings to mind the pathetic history of Theodosia Burr, Aaron Burr's only child, and her sad death; while the name of Washington Allston, the artist, is too well known to be dwelt upon.

After a month's pleasant sojourn in Newport my brother's health had materially improved and we returned to our New York home by the way of Boston, where we were guests at the Tremont House. I blush to acknowledge to the Bostonians who may peruse these pages that my chief recollection of this visit is that I was standing on the steps of the hotel, when I was accosted by a gentleman, who exclaimed: "You are a Campbell, I'll bet ten thousand dollars!" I apologize for writing such a personal reminiscence of such an historic town, but such are the freaks of memory. This was prior to the maturer days of William Lloyd Garrison, Wendell Phillips and Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Before passing on to other subjects I must not omit mentioning that at this period the currency used in the New England States differed from that of New York. This fact was brought vividly before me in Newport when I made an outlay of a shilling at a candy store. In return for my Mexican quarter of a dollar I was handed a small amount of change. I left the shop fully convinced that I was a victim of sharp practice, but learned later that there was a slight difference between the shilling used in New York and that used in New England.

Many years later I visited Boston again, this time as the guest of Mr. and Mrs. Robert C. Winthrop at their superb Brookline home; and, escorted by Mr. Winthrop and Mr. and Mrs. Jabez L. M. Curry of Alabama, who were also their house-guests, I visited all the points of historical interest. Both Mr. Winthrop and Mr. Curry were then trustees of the Peabody Fund. A few years after we separated in Boston Mr. and Mrs. Curry wentto Spain to reside, where, as American Minister, he was present at the birth of King Alfonso of Spain.

About fifteen years later I again visited Newport, but this time I was a full-fledged young woman. During my absence a large number of hotels and cottages had been erected, many of which were occupied by Southern families who still continued to regard this Rhode Island resort as almost exclusively their own. I recall the names of many of them, all of whom were conspicuous in social life in the South. Among them were the Middletons, whose ancestors were historically prominent; the Pinckneys, descended from the illustrious Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, who uttered the well-known maxim, "Millions for defense but not one cent for tribute;" the Izards; the Draytons, of South Carolina; and the Habershams of Georgia. During this visit in Newport I was the guest, at their summer cottage, of my life-long friends, the Misses Mary and Margaret Gelston, daughters of Maltby Gelston, former President of the Manhattan Bank of New York. Not far from the Gelstons resided what Sam Weller would call three "widder women." They were sisters, the daughters of Ralph Izard of Dorchester, S.C., and bore distinguished South Carolina names; Mrs. Poinsett who had been the wife of Joel Roberts Poinsett, the well-known statesman and Secretary of War under Van Buren, Mrs. Eustis, the widow of Gen. Abram Eustis, U.S.A., who had served in the War of 1812, and Mrs. Thomas Pinckney, whose husband, the nephew of General Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, had been a wealthy rice planter in South Carolina. The beautiful Christmas flower, the poinsettia, was named in compliment to Mr. Poinsett. These interesting women for many years were in the habit of leaving what they called their "Carolina" home for a summer sojourn at Newport, where their house was one of the social centers of attraction. With their graceful bearing, gentle voices and cordial manners theywere characteristic types of the Southerngrandes damesnow so seldom seen. A short distance from my hosts' cottage lived the daughter of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, who was also the widow of Robert Goodloe Harper, a prominent Federalist and a United States Senator during the administrations of Madison and Monroe. Mrs. Harper's sister married Richard Caton of Maryland, whose daughters made such distinguished British matrimonial alliances. Her daughter, Emily Harper, upon whose personality I love to dwell, was from her earliest childhood endowed with strong religious traits. Her gentle Christian character exemplified charity to all who were fortunate enough to come within the radius of her influence. She was in every sense of the word a deeply religious woman, and her influence upon those around her was of the most elevating character.

I shall always remember with the keenest enjoyment some of the pleasant teas at this hospitable home of the Harpers in Newport. All sects were welcomed, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Hebrews, Unitarians, and I doubt not that an equally cordial reception would have awaited Mahommedans or Hindoos. I once heard Miss Harper say that she shared with Chateaubriand the ennobling sentiment that the salvation of one soul was of more value than the conquest of a kingdom. Naturally the Harper cottage was the rendezvous for Southerners and its hospitable roof sheltered many prominent people, especially guests from Maryland. Mr. Maltby Gelston told me at the time of this visit that Mrs. Harper was the only child of a Signer then living. It is probable that he spoke from positive knowledge, as he was an authority upon the subject, having married the granddaughter of Philip Livingston, a New York Signer. A few years later, when I was married in Washington, D.C., I was deeply gratified when Miss Harper came from Baltimore to attend my wedding. The marked attentions paid to her by CalebCushing, then Attorney-General under President Pierce, were the source of much gossip, but she seemed entirely indifferent to his devotion. I once heard him express great annoyance after a trip to Baltimore because he failed to see her on account of a headache with which she was said to be suffering, and he inquired of me in a petulant manner whether headaches were an universal feminine malady. Like her mother, she lived to a very advanced age and when she departed this life the world lost one of its saintliest characters.

One of the most attractive cottages in Newport at the time of my second visit was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Henry Casimir de Rham of New York. It was densely shaded by a number of graceful silver-maple trees. Mr. de Rham was a prosperous merchant of Swiss extraction, whose wife was Miss Maria Theresa Moore, a member of one of New York's most prominent families and a niece of Bishop Benjamin Moore of New York.

The social leaders of Newport at this period were Mr. and Mrs. Robert Morgan Gibbes, whose winter home was in New York. Mr. Gibbes, who, by the way, was a great-uncle of William Waldorf Astor, was a South Carolinian by birth and had married Miss Emily Oliver of Paterson, New Jersey. They lived in a handsome house, gave sumptuous entertainments, and had an interesting family of daughters, several of whom I knew quite well. One well-remembered evening I attended a party at their house which was regarded as the social affair of the season. It made a lasting impression upon my mind owing to a trivial circumstance which seems hardly worth relating. It was the first time I had ever seen mottoes used at entertainments, and at this party they were exceptionally handsome. The one which fell to my share, and which I treasured for some time, bore upon it a large bunch of red currants. These favors were always imported, and a few years later became so fashionable that no dinner or supper table wasregarded as quite the proper thing without them. I take it for granted that this custom was the origin of the german favors which in the course of time came into such general use.

In 1853 I made a third visit to Newport as the guest of Mrs. Winfield Scott. General Scott's headquarters were then in Washington, but, as his military views were widely divergent from those of Jefferson Davis, President Pierce's Secretary of War, he was urging the President to transfer him to New York. I have frequently heard the General jocosely remark that he longed for a Secretary of War who would not "make him cry." The Scotts at this period were spending their winters in Washington and their summers in Newport. Meanwhile his numerous admirers, in recognition of his distinguished services, presented him with a house on West Twelfth Street which was occupied by him and his family after his transfer to New York. The principal donor of this residence was the Hon. Hamilton Fish.

After a charming sojourn of several weeks in Newport, I was about returning to my home when I casually invited General Scott's youngest daughter, Marcella ("Ella"), then only a schoolgirl, to accompany me to Miss Harper's cottage, as I wished to say good-bye. Upon entering the drawing-room a cousin and guest of Miss Harper's, Charles Carroll McTavish of Howard County, Maryland, appeared upon the threshold and was introduced to us. He was then approaching middle life and I learned later that he had served some years in the Russian Army. Marcella Scott's appearance apparently fascinated him from the moment they met, and from that day he began to be devotedly attentive to her. Mrs. Scott, however, entirely disapproved of Mr. McTavish's attentions to her daughter on account of her extreme youth. A few months later Marcella returned to Madame Chegaray's school, where she became a boarding pupil and was notallowed to see visitors. The following winter she was taken ill with typhoid fever, and, when convalescent enough to be moved, was brought to my home in Houston Street, New York, to recuperate, as the Scotts were still living in Washington and the journey was considered too long and arduous to be taken by an invalid. Meanwhile, Mr. McTavish renewed his attentions to Miss Scott and the impression made was more than a passing fancy for in the following June they were married in the Twelfth Street house of which I have already spoken, General Scott having in the interim succeeded in having his headquarters removed to New York.

I had the pleasure of being present at this wedding, which, in spite of a warm day in June and the many absentees from the city, was one of exceptional brilliancy. The Army and Navy were well represented, the officers of both branches of the service appearing in full-dress uniform. The hour appointed for the ceremony was high noon, but an amusingcontretempsblocked the way. An incorrigible mantua-maker, faithless to all promises and regardless of every sense of propriety, failed to send home the bridal dress at the appointed time. This state of affairs proved decidedly embarrassing, but the guests were informed of the cause of the delay and patiently awaited developments. Behind the scenes, however, quite a different spectacle was presented, while amid much bustle and excitement a second wedding gown was being hurriedly prepared. After an hour's delay, however, the belated garment arrived, when the bride-elect was quickly dressed and walked into the large drawing-room in all of her bridal finery, leaning, as was then the custom, upon the arm of the groom. Archbishop Hughes conducted the wedding service, and seized upon the auspicious occasion to make an address of some length. Previous to the ceremony, my intimate friend, the young bride's older sister, Cornelia Scott, who a few years previous had become while in Rome a convert to Catholicism, asked me with much earnestness of manner to do my best to entertain the Archbishop, as she thought, in her kind way, that he might be somewhat out of his element when surrounded by such a large and fashionable assemblage. This was, indeed, a pleasing task, as it enabled me to renew my earlier acquaintance with this gifted prelate. The only member of the groom's family present at this ceremony was his handsome brother, Alexander S. McTavish, who came from Baltimore for the occasion. Strange to say, in view of the many presents usually displayed upon such occasions nowadays, I do not remember, although I was a family guest, seeing or hearing of a single bridal gift, but some of the wedding guests I recall very distinctly. Among them were Mr. and Mrs. Charles King, the former of whom was President of Columbia College and an intimate friend of General Scott's; Mr. and Mrs. Robert Ray, whose daughter Cornelia married Major Schuyler Hamilton, aide-de-camp to General Scott during the Mexican war; Prof. Clement C. Moore and his daughter Theresa; Mr. and Mrs. Edward Mayo of Elizabeth, N.J., the former of whom was Mrs. Scott's brother; Mrs. Robert Henry Cabell, a sister of Mrs. Scott's from Richmond; Major Thomas Williams, an aide to General Scott, who was killed during the Civil War; and Major Henry L. Scott, aide and son-in-law of General Scott.

The same evening, after the wedding guests had departed and quiet again reigned supreme in the household, I went to Mrs. Scott's room to sit with her, as she seemed sad and lonely, and at the same time to talk over with her, womanlike, the events of the day. In our quiet conversation I remember referring to Archbishop Hughes's address to the groom, and asked her if she had observed that he had dwelt upon the bride "being taken from an affectionate father," while the remaining members of the family were entirely ignored. Mrs.Scott immediately bristled up and with much warmth of feeling said that she had noticed the omission and believed that the action of the Archbishop was premeditated. Just here was an undercurrent which as an intimate friend of the family I fully understood. After Virginia Scott's death at the Georgetown Convent Mrs. Scott was most outspoken in her denunciation of the Roman Catholic Church, which she felt had robbed her of her daughter.

Some years after his marriage Charles Carroll McTavish applied to the Legislature of Maryland for permission to drop his surname and to assume that of his great-grandfather, Charles Carroll. As this request was strenuously opposed by other descendants of the Signer, who regarded it as inexpedient to increase the number of Charles Carrolls, the petition of Mr. McTavish was not granted. Mary Wellesley McTavish, his sister, I remember as a sprightly young woman of fine appearance. She made herdébutin London society as the guest of her aunt, Mary McTavish, wife of the Marquis of Wellesley. After a brief courtship she married Henry George Howard, a son of the Earl of Carlisle, and accompanied him to the Netherlands, where he was the accredited British Minister. Mrs. George Bancroft, wife of the historian, who accompanied her husband when he was our Minister to England, gave me an interesting sketch of Mrs. Howard's varied life. Death finally claimed her in Paris and her body was brought back to this country and buried in Maryland, the home of her youth. Her mother, who brought the remains across the ocean, soon after her bereavement, established "The House of the Good Shepherd" in Baltimore.

Three daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Carroll McTavish grew into womanhood. The elder sisters, Mary and Emily, both of whom were well known for their beauty and vivacity, entered upon cloistered lives. Just as the two sisters were about taking this step, theymade a request, which caused much comment, to the effect that they should be assigned to different convents. I understand that Mrs. McTavish, their mother, is still living in Rome with the unmarried daughter. During Mrs. Scott's residence in Paris she was invited to witness the ceremony of "taking the veil" at a prominent convent, and writing to her family at home she remarked: "How strange that human beings, knowing the fickleness of their natures, should bind themselves for life to one limited space and unvarying mode of existence."

Hoboken, or, as it was sometimes called, Paulus Hook, was a great resort in my earlier life for residents of the great metropolis. We children, accompanied by my father or some other grown person, delighted to roam in that locality over what was most appropriately termed the "Elysian Fields." Professional landscape-gardening had not then been thought of, but nature's achievements often surpass the embellishments of man. Our cup of happiness was full to the brim when we were taken to this entrancing spot overlooking the Hudson River, with its innumerable sloops, steamboats and tugs adding so much to the picturesqueness of the scene. As we strolled along, we regaled ourselves every now and then with a refreshing glass of mead, a concoction of honey and cold water, purchased from a passing vender; and when cakes or candy were added to the refreshing drink life seemed verycouleur de roseto our childish dreams. Then again we made occasional trips up the river, but the steamboats and other excursion craft of that day were of course mere pigmies compared with those of the present time. The cabin always had a large dining table, on either side of which was a line of berths. Guests were called to dinner at one o'clock by the vigorous ringing of a large bell in the hands of a colored waiter dressed in a white apron and jacket. I have often thought how surprised and pleased this old-time servant, universally seen inevery well-to-do household in those days, would be if he could return to earth and hear himself addressed as "butler."

It was upon one of these trips up the Hudson that the widow of General Alexander Hamilton and her daughter, Mrs. Hamilton Holly, were taking their mid-day repast, at one end of the long table, when they were informed that Aaron Burr was partaking of the same meal not far from them. Their indignation was boundless, and immediately there were two vacant chairs. Mrs. Holly was a woman of strong intellect, and a friendship which I formed with her is one of the most cherished memories of my life. She devoted her widowhood to the care of her aged mother. We often engaged in confidential conversations, when she would discuss the tragedies which so clouded her life. I especially remember her dwelling upon the sad history of her sister, Angelica Hamilton, who, she told me, was in the bloom of health and surrounded by everything that goes towards making life happy when her eldest brother, Philip Hamilton, was killed in a duel. He had but recently been graduated from Columbia College and lost his life in 1801 on the same spot where, about three years later, his father was killed by Aaron Burr. This dreadful event affected her so deeply that her mind became unbalanced, and she was finally placed in an asylum, where she died at a very advanced age. Mrs. Hamilton lived in Washington, D.C., in one of the De Menou buildings on H Street, between Thirteenth and Fourteenth Streets, and Mrs. Holly resided in the same city until her death.

Tragedy seemed to pursue the Hamilton family with unrelenting perseverance until the third generation. In 1858 the legislature of Virginia, desiring that every native President should repose upon Virginia soil, made an appropriation for removing the remains of James Monroe from New York to Richmond. He died on the 4thof July, 1831, while temporarily residing in New York with his daughter, Mrs. Samuel L. Gouverneur, and his body was placed in the Gouverneur vault in the Marble Cemetery on Second Street, east of Second Avenue, where it remained for nearly thirty years. The disinterment of the remains of this distinguished statesman was conducted with much pomp and ceremony and the body placed on board of the steamerJamestownand conveyed to Richmond, accompanied all the way by the 7th Regiment of New York which acted as a guard of honor. The orator of the occasion was John Cochrane, a distinguished member of the New York bar; while Henry A. Wise, then Governor of Virginia, delivered an appropriate address at the grave in Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. My husband, Samuel L. Gouverneur, junior, Monroe's grandson, accompanied the remains as the representative of the family. After the ceremonies in Richmond were completed, but before the 7th Regiment had embarked upon its homeward voyage, one of its members, Laurens Hamilton, a grandson of Alexander Hamilton and a son of John C. Hamilton, was drowned near Richmond. All the proceedings connected with the removal of Mr. Monroe's remains, both in New York and in Richmond, were published some years later by Udolpho Wolfe, a neighbor and admirer of the late President. A copy of the book was presented to each member of the 7th Regiment and one of them was also given by the compiler to my husband. A few years later this same New York regiment invaded Virginia, but under greatly different circumstances. A terrible civil war was raging, and the Old Dominion for a time was its principal battle ground.

I recall an amusing anecdote which Mr. Gouverneur told me upon his return from this visit to Richmond. While the great concourse of people was still assembled at Monroe's grave in Hollywood Cemetery, Governor Henry A. Wise, always proud of his State, remarked:"Now we must have all the native Presidents of Virginia buried within this inclosure." Immediately a vigorous hand was placed on his shoulder by a New York alderman who had accompanied the funeralcortège, who exclaimed in characteristic Bowery vernacular: "Go ahead, Governor, you'll fotch 'em."

The only mode of travel on the Hudson River in my early days was by boat. One of my recollections is seeing Captain Vanderbilt in command of a steamboat. I have heard older members of my family say that he designated himself "Captain Wanderbilt," and that his faithful wife's endearing mode of accosting him was "Corneil." At any rate, it is well-known that he began life by operating a rowboat ferry between Staten Island and New York. In later years a sailboat was substituted over this same route. The Hudson River Railroad was originally built under the direction of a number of prominent men in the State who were anything but skilled in such enterprises. In the beginning of its career, while high officials bestowed fat offices upon friends and relatives, its finances were in a chaotic condition. It was during this state of affairs that Commodore Vanderbilt, with a master mind, grasped the situation and reorganized the whole system, thereby greatly increasing his own fortune, and placing the railroad upon a sound financial basis. After such a remarkable career "blindness to the future" seems unkindly given, as doubtless it would have been a source of great satisfaction to this Vanderbilt progenitor could he have known before passing onward that his hard-earned wealth would eventually enrich his descendants, even the representatives of nobility.

I have before me an invitation to a New York Assembly, dated the 29th of January, 1841, addressed to my father and mother, which has followed my wanderings through seventy years. All of the managers, a list of whom Igive, were representative citizens as well as prominent society men of the day:

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