XVI.MARGARET TAYLOR.
The importance attached to Presidential honors is not in our country the inheritance of persons born to the wearing of them. Monarchial governments, by tradition and law, designate not only who is the “chief magistrate,” but also provide candidates in advance for the succession. People, therefore, born to such high estate are always, from infancy onward, objects of world-wide interest; and the minutest acts of their lives, before they achieve their inherited position as well as after, are subjects of note from a thousand pens.
In our own country the popular will selects its candidates for the highest office within its gift as often from those who have suddenly received popularity as from those who have, by antecedent history, become known to fame. It is probably true that, just before the breaking out of actual hostilities between this country and Mexico, there was no military officer—his long and faithful public service considered—who was as little known to the country at large as General Taylor.
That the future Mistress of the White House who was buried in the seclusion of his retired private life, should be little known out of her domestic circle, is therefore not surprising; and that a family, the members of which had always courted seclusion and were satisfiedwith making perfect the narrow circle of their accepted duties, should shrink from publicity and notice, is not to be wondered at; and, as a consequence, there is but little left to afford material for the pen of the historian.
Mrs. Taylor and her daughter “Betty,” who for a while shone forth as the acknowledged “first ladies of the land,” never sympathized with the display and bustle of the White House, and they always performed such official duties as were imperatively forced upon them, by their exalted position, as a task that had no compensation for the sacrifices attending it.
The key to Mrs. Taylor’s life was touched by General Taylor himself, who, when receiving from an appointed speaker, at Baton Rouge, the official announcement that he was elected President of the United States, among other things said:
“For more than a quarter of a century, my house has been the tent, and my home the battle-field.” This statement, which might have been used with propriety as figurative language by any officer who had been for more than a quarter of a century on active duty, was literally true of General Taylor’s experience. He was emphatically a hard-working officer: either from choice or accident, his public life was never varied by those terms of “official repose” which give officers a rest at Washington, at West Point, or at head-quarters in some large city.
On the contrary, General Taylor, from the time he entered the army as a lieutenant until he laid aside hiswell-earned commission as a Major-General to assume the highest responsibility of Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy, had never been out of what might be termed the severest frontier duties.
He was known as having acquired the largest experience as an Indian fighter. He was alike the hero of the “Black Hawk,” as he was the most prominent officer in the Seminole war. Hence it is that Mrs. Taylor, more than any other mistress of the White House, had seen more army service, and passed through more varied frontier experiences; for she would never, under any circumstances, if she could avoid it, separate herself from her husband, no matter how severe were the trials resulting from wifely devotion.
This heroic spirit, that gives such grace and beauty to useful qualities, carried her cheerfully to Tampa Bay, that she might be near her husband when he was endeavoring to suppress the wily Seminoles in the swamps and everglades of Florida; and as the long previous years in the western country made her familiar with the attributes of savage triumphs, so the final defeats that eventually secured our settlers a peaceful home on the rich plains of Mexico, and laid the foundation of the prosperity of the great West.
In all this quarter of a century so feelingly alluded to by General Taylor, as the time when his house was a tent and his home the battle-field, it was seldom that Mrs. Taylor was not at his side, bearing her share of the hardships incidental to her husband’s life, and cheerfully attending tothe duties which fell to her to perform. All this while the modest accommodations were acceptable, the log-cabin in winter, the tent if necessary in summer, with the coarse but substantial food of the soldiers, and often even this not in abundance. Deprived of the little elegancies which are so necessary for a woman’s comfort—separated from the society of her children, who were almost always away at school—nothing stood in the way of her fealty to her husband, and she was content thus to live.
Through all these trying circumstances Mrs. Taylor, by her good sense, her modesty, her uncomplaining spirit, her faculty of adding to the comforts and surroundings of her husband’s life, filled the measure of her duty, and set an example of the true woman, especially a soldier’s wife, that her sex for all time can admire and point to as worthy of imitation.
Her domestic duties, so far as they related to the comfort of her family, she would never intentionally abandon for a single day to menial hands. Especially was she careful in the preparation of the food for the table, and however simple the meal might be, she saw that the material was carefully prepared. And this home training General Taylor displayed when in Northern Mexico, away from his domestic care; for while he was indifferent to a degree about luxuries, yet what he did eat, he persisted in having carefully selected and prepared with due regard to healthfulness; and his tent was ever a model of neatness and rude comfort.
Mrs. Taylor’s maiden name was Margaret Smith. Shewas born in Maryland, and came of a family identified for their substantial qualities which distinguished intelligent agriculturists. She received such an education as was at the command of female pupils in the beginning of the century. An education which considered the practical, rather than the intellectual, and to this plane of her school life she was trained with special care in all the accomplishments of domestic duties.
“Maryland housekeeping” was for years in the southwest, and is still among the “old settlers,” a complimentary remark, if applied to a lady from any part of the country, so excellent was considered the housewives’ work of those who learned their duties on the tidewaters of the Chesapeake Bay, and among those examples of domestic perfection in her State, Mrs. Taylor was eminent. And to be more than this—to make her home happy—she evidently had no ambition. Marrying an officer of the United States army, who was born in Kentucky, and was appointed from private life, her husband had no associations that took him to the North, which, independent of official opportunities, are increased by a student’s career at West Point. “Captain Taylor” was therefore, from the beginning of his public life, confined to the frontiers, and was known as one of the “hard-working,” and “fighting officers.” His boyhood days were made up of adventures with Indians, and around the fireside of his own home, listening to his father and his father’s friends, talk over the struggles, sufferings, and triumphs they endured as active participators in theRevolution, under the leadership of General Washington and General Wayne, and of their subsequent hard lives after they left Virginia, to found homes “in the dark and bloody ground.”
To accept with pleasure the incidents of the consequent life was the true spirit of the American heroine, and to adorn it through long years of privations and sufferings as Mrs. Taylor did, is the noblest tribute that can be paid to her virtues. For sixteen years after the conclusion of our second war with England, the time indicated in history as the “treaty of Ghent,” Major Taylor spent an active life in what was then known as our western frontiers. He established forts and corresponded with the Government on Indian affairs. His custom was to personally superintend the varied and difficult labors imposed upon him. All this while he was literally in the savage wilderness, and Mrs. Taylor, then a young wife, persistently accompanied him. To her attentions to her husband the country was largely indebted for his usefulness, and by her influence and example the subordinates, who were attached to the pioneer army, were made contented and uncomplaining.
This era of Mrs. Taylor’s life she was wont always to speak of with subdued enthusiasm.
It was while thus living that her children were born. They followed her fortunes as long as a mother’s care was absolutely necessary for their safety; but the moment they were sufficiently matured to leave her protection, she submitted to the painful sacrifice of having themsent to her relatives in the “settlements,” for a less perilous life and the enjoyment of the facilities of educational institutions; but she never thought of abandoning her husband, her first duty being for his interest and comfort. It is not surprising that when the “Florida war” began, that the Captain Taylor of twenty years previous was now a Colonel, and that his past services should have secured for him the difficult and dangerous honor of taking command against the treacherous Seminoles of the Everglades. True to the characteristics of his whole life, he quietly proceeded to this new field of action, and to the surprise of the country, the people of which now began to know Colonel Taylor, it was heralded in the papers that Mrs. Taylor had established herself at Tampa Bay. It was looked upon at the time as a piece of unpardonable recklessness that she should thus risk her life, when to the outward world the odds at the time seemed to be against her husband’s success. But she evidently knew his character and her own duty best, and through the lasting struggle, made so terrible and romantic by the incidents of the battle of Okee-Chobee, Mrs. Taylor was of immense service in superintending the wants of the sick and wounded, but more especially so by shedding over disaster the hopefulness created by her self-possession and seeming insensibility to the probability of the failure of her husband’s final triumph over the enemy.
At the conclusion of active hostilities, the then Secretary of War, addressing Gen. Jessup, said: “You willestablish posts at Tampa, and on the eastern shore, and wherever else they are in your opinion necessary to preserve the peace of the country; and I would suggest the propriety of leaving Col. Zachary Taylor, of the First Infantry, in command of them.” Agreeably to this order, General Taylor in time of peace repeated his previously pursued life on the northwestern frontiers, of forming new military stations in the wilderness and paving the way for the amelioration of peaceful populations. If he had one thought that he needed repose, or that his patriotism was overtaxed by such a continued demand on his time, he had the comforts of a home and a devoted wife with him, and thus cheered and sustained, he patiently performed his severe duties; thus the country was indebted to Mrs. Taylor for the constant services performed by her gallant husband.
In the year 1840, General Taylor, who now had almost become forgotten in this obscurity of the Florida swamps, asked to be relieved of his command, and soon afterward arrived with his family in New Orleans. The “Old Colonel,” as he was called by the citizens of Louisiana, came unostentatiously, and was permitted, much to his own gratification, to proceed quietly to Baton Rouge, which place should be for a while, at least, the head-quarters of his family. With this understanding, Mrs. Taylor joyfully established herself with surroundings more comfortable than were afforded in the Florida swamps.
This idea encouraged her to arrange a home which shehoped would be abandoned only when the “General” had selected some quiet place, where they would together peacefully end their days.
The barracks at Baton Rouge are picturesquely situated upon the high land, that here, in a sort of a peninsula, rising out of the surrounding level, reaches the river. The soldiers usually quartered at Baton Rouge were mustering along the banks of the Red river, and the buildings were left, save a single company of infantry, without occupants, and Mrs. Taylor could select her “quarters” with all the facilities the place afforded. Leaving the imposing brick buildings, with their comfortable arrangements for housekeeping, to the entire possession of one or two officers’ families, Mrs. Taylor selected a little tumble-down cottage, situated directly on the banks of the river, which was originally erected for, and inhabited by the Captain-commandant, when the post belonged to Spain.
In the long years of its existence, the cottage, consisting only of a suite of three or four rooms, inclosed under galleries, had become quaint in appearance and much out of repair, and was hardly considered else than a sort of admitted wreck of former usefulness, left because it was a harmless, familiar object, entirely out of the way of the lawn and parade ground. To Mrs. Taylor’s eye, this old cottage seemed to possess peculiar charms, for she promptly decided to give up the better quarters at her disposal, as the wife of the Commander-in-Chief of the military department, and move into this cottage.
With the aid of her own servants, two in number, and the usual assistance always afforded by invalid soldiers unfit for military duties, she soon put the neglected place in proper order. It was remarked by the people of Baton Rouge, how rapidly the old “Spanish Commandant’s cottage” became transformed into a comfortable dwelling under the superintendence of the new occupants. And in a country where so much is left to servants, and where the mistress and daughters had so many at command, they set the noble example of doing much themselves.
The work employed their minds, and they were happier in the performance of the details of their well-directed industry. It is certainly true that Mrs. Taylor and her daughter, Miss Betty, were evidently too much engaged in managing their household duties to have time for unhappiness or regrets, if they had cause to indulge in them.
The house had but four rooms, surrounded on all sides by a verandah, and thus in the hottest weather there was always a shady side, and in the coldest, one most sheltered; and so cozy and comfortable did the house become under the management of its new mistress, that Mrs. Taylor was most thoroughly justified in her choice by the universal commendation of the citizens of the town—that it was now the pleasantest residence in all the country round, and its inmates were probably as contented and happy as people can be.
General Taylor himself was not idle, but was keptbusy visiting Fort Gibson and Fort Smith, until finally, to be near his family, was at his own request transferred to Fort Jessup, Louisiana. He bought the house selected by his family, within his military department. The domestic life of General Taylor’s family was now complete. He had performed public duties enough his friends thought, to permit him to indulge in the luxury of being left quietly at the head-quarters of a frontier department, where he could enjoy repose from severe military duties, look after his neglected private interests, and for the few years that remained live a kind of private life. Alas! how the dream was to be dissipated.
Texas was at this time a State, acting independently of Mexico, yet unacknowledged as such by the mother country. The Texans, inspired by the difficulties of their situation, and surrounded by political influence in the United States, agitated the question of coming into the Union. The result was that General Santa Anna, then President of Mexico, made preparations which contemplated the reassertion of the national government in the revolted province.
This naturally made the southern border line of Louisiana, the Sabine, an object of attack, and as General Taylor had, with the idea of being left in peaceful retirement, asked to be in command in Louisiana, he unconsciously placed himself in the very position that was to call him into a more active and important field of duty than had yet been entrusted to him.
Mrs. Taylor, meantime, painfully unconscious of the drama that was opening before her, calmly and full of content, went about her domestic duties. A garden was planted, and she cherished the first signs of the growing vegetation with almost childish delight. Her old friends among the citizens of the neighborhood made friendly visits. Miss Betty, who was now in the very perfection of her blooming womanhood, was popular with the young ladies of her age and station.
The “old General” was here and there, according to his habits; one day away attending to some military matter, then enjoying what seemed to him an endless source of interest, the examination of the workings of plantation life. He began, in fact, to assume the airs of an agriculturist; invested what means he had in a cotton farm on the Mississippi, and looked forward to the time when his income would be large and liberal for the pursuits of peace.
All this time to the south of General Taylor’s military department there were signs of trouble, and one day he received from the Adjutant-General of the Army a letter, which announced that there was great danger of a hostile incursion of Indians on the southern border of his department. The letter thus concluded: “Should the apprehended hostilities with the Indians alluded to break out, an officer of rank—probably yourself—will be sent to command the United States forces to be put in the field.”
The quiet domestic life so much desired by Mrs. Taylorwas becoming a dream. The events which followed so rapidly soon placed her husband on the banks of the Sabine as commander-in-chief of the “Army of Occupation.” A succeeding order, and he invaded the disputed territory, and by one single stride rose from the comparative obscurity of a frontier fighter to be the observed of all the world, in a conflict where two Christian nations were to struggle for supremacy in an appeal to arms. The succeeding actions, that began at Palo Alto and ended at Buena Vista, made him for the time being a hero. While these events were culminating, Mrs. Taylor and Miss Betty remained in the little cottage on the banks of the Mississippi, each hour becoming objects of greater interest, and from their quietness and unobtrusive life making themselves dear to the nation.
But the applause and flattery that began to reach the inmates of the old Spanish cottage made no apparent impression. Mrs. Taylor, while her husband distinguished himself on the Rio Grande, only worked harder in her little garden, and she had no superior among the planters of the vicinity of Baton Rouge in the raising of succulent luxuries for the table, and she seemingly took more pride in showing these triumphs of her industry than she did in hearing compliments upon her husband’s growing fame. Nay, more than this, she instituted a miniature dairy, and added to her other comforts what was almost unknown at the time in the vicinity—an abundance of fresh milk and butter. It may be readily imagined that with such care and supervision the littlecottage in the garrison was illustrative of domestic comfort nowhere else surpassed. Thus practically Mrs. Taylor taught the young wives of the officers residing in the barracks their duties, and prepared them by her excellent example to perform the arduous task imposed upon them as soldiers’ wives in a manner best calculated to insure their own happiness and secure honor and renown to their patriotic husbands.
But Mrs. Taylor’s usefulness did not end with the perfect performance of her household responsibilities. The town of Baton Rouge at this time had no Protestant Episcopal Church. It was a want which she, in common with other officers’ wives and some few persons in the village, felt keenly; and in her quiet, practical way, she set about meeting the demand. It was, of course, only necessary for her to designate a proper room in the garrison buildings to be used as a chapel, when it was at once prepared for that purpose. She superintended with others the labor necessary to fit up a chapel, then used her influence to secure the occasional services of a rector who resided at some distance away. Meantime her expressed wish that “the service” be regularly read was responded to, and thus was secured to Baton Rouge a commencement of a religious movement that in a few subsequent years crystallized in the building of a handsome church, and the establishment of a permanent and intelligent congregation.
This garrison chapel in time became a place of great interest. Owing to active hostilities in Mexico the numberof officers’ wives increased, and it included, as may be supposed, some of the most accomplished and elegant ladies in the land. Their husbands, gallant and noble soldiers, were involved in the duties of actual war, and they, brave-hearted and courageous, comforted each other. As the news came that actual collision was threatened, some of these ladies, unable to control their anxiety for the safety of their husbands, would be overcome with suppressed emotion, and grow for the moment wild with terror. It was on these occasions that Mrs. Taylor and Miss Betty maintained their self-possession, and had kind words and hopeful suggestions for those suffering sisters. And when at last some rumors reached Baton Rouge of battles fought, of blood being shed, of men and officers falling in the strife; when those heart-stricken wives and daughters of the soldiers engaged were left to the agony of apprehension, Mrs. Taylor, still always calm and cheerful, was a constant source of comfort, and shed around her an atmosphere of hope, an inspiration of true courage. At last when names were given of those who fell on the fields of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma, the stricken ones of the garrison suppressed their wild sorrow, lest they should wound the feelings of their superior in rank and influence, and in the little chapel founded by Mrs. Taylor sought, through the holy influences of religion, that consolation that could reconcile them to the irretrievable loss of friends, brothers, fathers and husbands. There was at this time, amid these scenes of actual war, a bit ofdomestic history revived in Mrs. Taylor s mind that no doubt made a strong impression.
General Taylor was a great admirer of business men, and was opposed to his daughters marrying officers of the army. He condemned his own life by saying that soldiers never had a home, and in this sentiment was cordially sustained by Mrs. Taylor, who no doubt in her heart reviewed her varied life from place to place on the frontiers, and her constant separations from her husband, with a regret she could not conceal. It was this cause that called forth so much opposition from the family to Lieutenant Jefferson Davis marrying the second daughter, Sarah, which opposition resulted in an elopement and runaway marriage. General Taylor, at the time this occurred, was away from home on military service, and when he heard of it he expressed himself in the most unmeasured terms of disapprobation. He seemed utterly insensible to the feelings which inspired the young people in such an adventure, and persisted in looking upon “young Davis” as having done a dishonorable thing, and his daughter as being entirely regardless of her filial obligations. To all protests calculated to lessen his indignation, he would make the invariable replies, “that no honorable man would thus defy the wishes of parents, and no truly affectionate daughter be so regardless of her duty.” General Taylor, though a man of strong impulses, and possessed of but little training to conceal his feelings, except what military discipline enforced, was at heart of a generous and forgivingnature; and no doubt time would have brought about its softening influences, and the usual ending which follows all runaway matches would have taken place,—reconciliation and entire forgiveness. But ere this occurred, within a few short months of her marriage, Mrs. Davis suddenly died, and a beloved child upon whom he had garnered all his affections passed forever away, the last words she had from him being those of reproof and condemnation. This incident and the sudden death of her daughter left a deep impression upon Mrs. Taylor’s life. Naturally of a quiet disposition and living from necessity almost entirely away from influences of society, this sad domestic history was left to make the greatest possible impression upon her mind. That General Taylor keenly cherished for long years his sense of sorrow was destined to be most romantically displayed. His call for volunteer troops at the time he believed his little army was imperilled, on the eve of its memorable march from Corpus Christi to the Rio Grande, was answered promptly by Louisiana and Mississippi. The last-named State promptly organized a splendid regiment, composed of the very elite of the native young men, and Jefferson Davis was elected its commander.
At Monterey the 1st Mississippi regiment was stationed at one of the forts in the suburbs of the city, and in the battle that ended with the defeat of Ampudia, its Mexican defender, Jefferson Davis received a slight wound. Before this event, at the time and subsequently, it was noticed that Colonel Davis and General Taylorhad never met, and it was evident that this was designed and not the result of accident—there was an understanding seemingly that kept them apart. The cause of this was freely discussed, and it came to the surface that a reconciliation had never taken place between General Taylor and Colonel Davis on account of the elopement, and so things remained until the close of the three days’ struggle that ended in triumph at Buena Vista. It was on the occasion when victory seemed hesitating where she should bestow her wreath—when the men of the North and the West had exhausted their energies—when Clay, Crittenden, Yell, and their brave compatriots slept in death on the bloody field—at this moment, when Santa Anna believed and announced himself the hero of the field, and when he concentrated his favorite troops to make a last charge upon our dispirited and exhausted columns, that Colonel Davis, at the head of his Mississippi regiment, nobly sustained the shock, and sent the foe back disappointed and dismayed. Then it was that “Old Zach,” seeing by whom he, his gallant men, and his country’s honor, had been saved, had no place in his heart but for gratitude, and the long estranged embraced each other and wept tears of reconciliation upon the battle-field.
Time passed on, and General Taylor completed his brilliant campaign. Our country had then, for nearly two generations, been unused to war, and the magnificent achievements of old “Rough and Ready” filled the hearts of the people with the intensest admiration. The oldcottage on the low bluff at Baton Rouge gradually became of classic interest. Grateful people travelling along the highway of the great Mississippi, representing every State in the Union, and every civilized nation of the earth, would admiringly point out General Taylor’s residence. If any of those great western floating palaces stopped at Baton Rouge, some of the passengers would climb up the hill and visit the “garrison grounds,” and the young ladies especially would make the pilgrimage in hopes they might see Miss Betty, whom they with woman’s quickness of perception, felt was to be the first lady of the land, by presiding at the White House.
How much the neatness of that home, its characteristic simplicity, its quiet domestic comforts, the self-possession and unpretending, yet lady-like manners of its inmates, impressed themselves on the public, and prepared the way for that popular affection that greeted General Taylor on his return from Mexico, and culminated in his triumphant election to the Presidency, is difficult to decide; but that it had an element of strength and of vast importance is certain, and presents in a strong view how much can be done by the devoted, sensible wife, in aiding her husband in achieving success.
Meantime, General Taylor returned, the triumphant soldier, to the United States. However wonderful were the subsequent victories achieved over the Mexicans, in the brilliant march from Vera Cruz to the City of Aztecs, the novelty of the war when this was enacted, was gone. The first impressions remained vivid, the subsequent oneswere received with gratification, but not enthusiasm. General Taylor returned, not only a military hero, but over his head was suspended the wreath of an approaching civic triumph; and the little cottage on the bank of the Mississippi that Mrs. Taylor selected for her strictly private residence, became a Mecca for pilgrims from all lands, and for more than a year it was the centre of interest, where patriotism, intellect, and beauty paid homage. In recalling the impressions made upon the public through the press, it is well remarked what a full share of compliments were paid to Mrs. Taylor, and how grateful was the task of every one to praise Miss Betty for her agreeable manners, her hospitality, and her resemblance to her father in matters of good sense, and the further possession of all accomplishments that adorn her sex. But this flow of visitors, this public ovation, this constant bustle about Mrs. Taylor was submitted to and borne, but never received her indorsement and sympathy. Her heart was in the possible enjoyment of a quiet household. She saw nothing attractive in the surroundings of the White House. All this “worldly glory” defeated her womanly ambition, and her life-long dream that, at some time or another, “the General” would be relieved of his public duties, and that together in the retirement of their own estate, unnoticed and unknown except to their friends, they might together peacefully end their days; and that the realization of her modest ambition was due to her, for the separations and wanderings that had characterized all her early married life.
General Taylor was by habit a public servant, and his future, as shaped by circumstances, he quietly accepted. But Mrs. Taylor opposed his being a candidate for the Presidency. She spoke of it as a thing to be lamented, and declared when such a position was first foreshadowed, that the General’s acquired habits would not permit him to live under the constraints of metropolitan life; and to those of her intimate friends who spoke of his being President, she sadly replied, “That it was a plot to deprive her of his society, and shorten his life by unnecessary care and responsibility.” With the announcement that General Taylor was President-elect, came his resignation as an officer of the army. It was after all a sad day for him and his family, when he severed a connection that had lasted so long, and had been made so memorable by a life of conscientious duty. Miss Betty now appeared on the scene as an agent of national interest. The White House under Mrs. Polk had been grave and formal. There was a cold respectability and correctness about it, that was somewhat oppressive to the citizens of Washington; and there was a degree of earnest pleasure created in the public mind when it was understood that as a consequent of General Taylor’s election, there would preside over the White House a lady eminently attractive in her personal appearance, young in years, accomplished in mind, and made more interesting, if possible, by being the bride of Major Bliss, who had served so faithfully under her father as his accomplished Adjutant-General.
Elizabeth Taylor, third and youngest daughter of President Taylor, was twenty-two years of age, when, as Mrs. Bliss, she assumed the formal duties of Hostess of the White House, her mother, from disinclination, refusing to accept the responsibility of official receptions. Mrs. Bliss, or Miss Betty, as she was popularly called, was at this time admired by all who saw her, and had the distinction of being the youngest daughter of any chief magistrate who had honored our Presidential receptions with her presence. Her face was pleasant, her smiles exceedingly attractive, and her eyes beamed with intelligence. She had been throughout her life but little with her parents. When not among her relations in Virginia or Kentucky, she was at some boarding-school. Her education was completed at Philadelphia, after which she resided with her parents. No inauguration of any of the later Presidents was more enthusiastically celebrated than General Taylor’s. He was at the time the nation’s idol. Everything in his history charmed the popular mind, and the fact that he was a total stranger to Washington—that his family were unknown, gave a mystery and novelty to the whole proceeding quite different from common place precedence.
For this reason, more than ordinary encouragement was given to the celebration of the occasion by a grand ball. A wooden building of enormous size was erected, which at the time was considered an “immense affair.” It was tastefully decorated with flags and other proper insignia; in the enthusiasm of the hour, many articleswere loaned for its decorations by citizens, who ordinarily took no interest in these “stated occasions.” The best music that could be obtained was in attendance, and to give the crowning zest, “Miss Betty” was to be present. The Lady of the Mansion for the next four years, young, handsome, and hopeful, was to be presented to the admiring public.
There was the usual crowd and the characteristic confusion; but nevertheless there pervaded the multitude an intense desire to behold the new occupant of the White House. There was a “Hero President.” There was a charming young bride, a young and graceful lady to do the honors of the public receptions. “At eleven o’clock, General Taylor entered, leaning on the arms of Major Seaton and Speaker Winthrop.” His fine eye was bright, his step was elastic, he was brave, he was a conqueror, he was President, and the gentlemen expressed their feelings in spontaneous cheers, while ladies waved their handkerchiefs and many wept for sympathy. A silence ensued, a movement at the head of the room indicated that a new scene was to be enacted. The throng pressed back, and Mrs. Bodisco, then the young and handsome wife of the Russian Minister, enveloped in a cloud of crimson satin and glistening with diamonds, supported by two ambassadors emblazoned in gold lace and orders, came forward—just behind were two “Louisiana beauties,” a blonde and a brunette, whose brilliant charms subsequently divided the gentlemen in perplexity as to which should be acceded the palm of the belleof the evening. “Which is Miss Betty?” whispered the throng as these queenly creatures, by their native charms, without the aid of dress, eclipsed the more glowing splendor of the Russian court. Then behind these came “Miss Betty,” plainly dressed in white, a simple flower in her hair, timid and faltering, yet with an expression in her eye that showed she was Zachary Taylor’s favorite child. The expectations of the vast crowd were for the moment realized, and then followed expressions of enthusiasm that were overwhelming.
The reaction that followed the inauguration in Washington was, as usual, intense. The season was more than usually warm, and the Congress fled from the Capital. Mrs. Taylor was never visible in the reception-room; she received her visitors in her private apartments, and escaped all observation from choice. Once established in her new home, she selected such rooms as suited her ideas of housekeeping, and, as far as was possible, resumed the routine that characterized her life at Baton Rouge. As was her merit, she attended personally to so much of it as affected the personal comforts of the General, and it was not long before the “opposition” found fault with her simple habits, and attempted, but without effect, to lessen the public esteem felt for General Taylor, by indulging in offensive personalities.
General Taylor was, from principle and choice, an abstemious man. On the sixth of July, the dullness of Washington was enlivened by the presence of FatherMathew, the Apostle of Temperance. To know him, General Taylor invited him to the White House. The press discussed this honorable notice of the great philanthropist, and spoke of “Miss Betty” as presiding at the reception with unusual grace and affability.
The winter following opened officially and fashionably with the commencement of Congress. There was then in the Senate, Clay, Webster, Calhoun, Benton, Cass, and lesser but still shining lights. Mr. Fillmore presided over the body with dignity, and such an array of talent and statesmanship divided the public mind with the claims of the White House.
Few official receptions were given. The excitement attending the admission of California—the fiery eloquence of Mr. Clay—the attack of Mr. Calhoun or Mr. Benton, and the growls of disappointed office-seekers, divided the current that might have otherwise flowed on to the Executive Mansion, and it is apparent that this created no regrets in the minds of the ladies of the President’s House. It was soon understood that set, formal, and official dinners were not coveted, and they were not encouraged. But social and unceremonious visits prevailed beyond any precedent, and Miss Betty was always ready to dispense the honors of her exalted position, with a grace and frankness that was constantly securing for her a wide circle of admiring friends. Thus the first winter of General Taylor’s term passed away.
To those who were familiar with the actual life of theWhite House, it was apparent that a change had gradually taken place in the feelings of the female inmates. Mrs. Taylor had gradually abandoned much of her personal superintendence of domestic matters, and Miss Betty had assumed the manner of one who began to appreciate the importance of her social elevation. The embarrassments that General Taylor suffered from the betrayal of “false friends” had the double effect, to make the members of his family more devoted to each other, and at the same time created a resolve to more ostentatiously perform the duties of their high social position. A revolution, political and social, had been resolved upon without the parties interested being aware of the change. This new era was inaugurated by the ladies of the President’s House having a reception on the 4th of March, 1850, in honor of the inauguration. The affair was of singular brilliancy. It was remarked at the time that the ladies never appeared to better advantage; the rustling of costly dresses and the display of diamonds were paramount, while the gentlemen, for the time being, eschewing the license of Republican institutions, accepted the laws of good society, and appeared in dress coats and white kid gloves. General Taylor surprised his friends by the courtliness and dignity of his manner. Some of his soldiers who saw him in his battles said there was mischief in his eye. He was evidently attempting a new rôle, and doing it with success.
Miss Betty, as hostess, was entirely at her ease, and made the ladies by her affability feel at home in theNational Mansion. For the first time, at the public receptions, she led off in conversation, and her remarks were full of quiet humor and good sense. The following day, the papers expressed their admiration in different ways. “Miss Betty” was complimented with the remark that, in manner and grace at a public reception, Victoria could not surpass her. General Taylor, it was said, “had at last determined to open the campaign for the second term, and those about him, who were intriguing for the succession for others than for himself, would have to stand aside.” These suspicions were justified by constantly repeated rumors that Cabinet changes would be made that would entirely change the character of the general Administration. Mr. Webster began now to visit the White House, and was treated with marked consideration by its female inmates. The influence of the ladies of the White House began to be felt in political circles, and what had been for the preceding year a negative, now became a positive power. Gentlemen who had distinguished themselves for the early advocacy of General Taylor’s election, but who had received no recognition, were now welcomed to the White House. It was evident that a radical change had come over its inmates. General Taylor seemed at last to begin to understand his duties, and knowing them, he commenced their performance with the same zeal and determination that marked his military career. Four months of spring and summer passed away. The seventy-fourth anniversary of our national Fourth ofJuly was approaching. It was decided that the event should be celebrated by the laying of the corner-stone of the Washington Monument. General Taylor accepted the invitation to be present without hesitation, and surprised his friends at the pleasure he evinced at the opportunity.
The day was unusually warm and oppressive for Washington City. The procession out to the banks of the Potomac moved slowly, and General Taylor suffered with the intense heat. Upon taking his seat upon the stand, he remarked that he had never before experienced such unpleasant sensations from the sun, much as he had borne its unshielded rays in the swamps of Florida and Mexico. General Foote was the official orator, and Washington Parke Custis took part in the proceedings. It was noticed that General Foote addressed to General Taylor many of his most pointed remarks in praise of Washington. The papers of the day said that “when the orator quoted from a letter of Hamilton to Washington, protesting against his refusing to serve a second term, President Taylor, who sat on the left of the orator, roused from his listless attitude, as if desirous of catching every word.” “Perhaps,” added a reporter, “General Taylor was thinking what would be his conduct in a similar emergency.”
From the celebration the President returned to the White House, and to relieve himself from the terrible thirst the heat had occasioned, in accordance with his primitive tastes, he partook freely of cold water andfruit. In less than an hour he was seized with symptoms of a fearful sickness. The announcement that the President was prostrated by indisposition, struck the people of Washington with prophetic terror, for the news went from house to house, as if presaging the fatal result. General Taylor, after the first paroxysms were over, seemed to anticipate that he would never recover. He yielded to the solicitations of his physicians, and the efforts of his afflicted family to assist him. On the evening of the third day of his sufferings, he said:
“I should not be surprised if this were to terminate in death. I did not expect to encounter what has beset me since my elevation to the Presidency. God knows, I have endeavored to fulfil what I considered to be an honest duty; but I have been mistaken, my motives have been misconstrued, and my feelings grossly betrayed.”
Mrs. Taylor, who heard these remarks, for the first time admitted to herself the possibility of her husband’s death. She then recalled, in the bitterness of her soul, the remark she made when it was announced to her that possibly General Taylor would be President:
“It was a plot to deprive her of his society and shorten his life by unnecessary care and responsibility.” This was indeed about to happen, and in the agony of that hour she prostrated herself at her husband’s bedside, while her children clung around her.
The sun, on the morning of the 9th of July, 1850 rosegloriously over the White House. The President’s family and Colonel Bliss had remained by his bedside all night, refusing the indulgence of necessary repose. Each hour it was evident that the catastrophe was nearer. Mrs. Taylor would not believe that death was possible. He had escaped so many dangers, had been through so much exposure, he could not die surrounded with so many comforts and loved so intensely by his family and friends. The emotions of apprehension were so oppressive, that overtaxed nature with Mrs. Taylor found relief in fits of insensibility.
At thirty-five minutes past tenP. M., the President called his family about him, to give them his last earthly advice and bid them his last good-by. No conventional education could restrain the natural expressions of grief of the members of this afflicted household, and their heart-rending cries of agony reached the surrounding street. “I am about to die,” said the President, firmly, “I expect the summons soon. I have endeavored to discharge all my official duties faithfully. I regret nothing, but that I am about to leave my friends.”
Mrs. Taylor and family occupied the White House until the sad ceremonies of the funeral ended with the removal of the late President’s remains. The bustle and the pomp was now painful to her sight and ears, and she realized, in the fearful interval of time, how truly he was dead, who, though the nation’s successful General and a President, was to her only a cherishedhusband. It can easily be imagined that, as the glittering, heartless display of the Executive Mansion commenced fading away from her sight, that she must have regretfully turned to the peaceful era of her last home at Baton Rouge, and the unpretentious cottage, the neglected garden; and the simple life connected with these associations, must have appeared as a dream of happiness when contrasted with the fearful year and a half of sad experiences in Washington. From the time Mrs. Taylor left the White House, she never alluded to her residence there, except as connected with the death of her husband.
Accompanied by her daughter, Mrs. Bliss, after leaving Washington, she first sought a home among her relations in Kentucky, but finding herself oppressed by personal utterances of sympathy, she retired to the residence of her only son, near Pascagoula, Louisiana, where, in August, 1852, she died, possessed of the same Christian spirit that marked her conduct throughout her life. The sudden and lamented death of Major Bliss soon followed, and without children by her marriage “Miss Betty Taylor,” as she must ever be known in history, studiously sought the retirement of private life, and found it in the accomplished circles of the “old families of Virginia,” with so many of whom she was connected by ties of blood. By a second marriage, her historical name passed away. But when the traditions and histories of the White House have the romance of time thrown around them, Miss BettyTaylor will be recalled to mind, and for her will there be a sympathy that is associated with youth, for she was the youngest of the few women of America who have a right to the title of Hostess of the President’s House.