As I Remember Part 9

My last meeting with Irving is vividly impressed upon my memory as the occasion was quite memorable. I was pa.s.sing the winter in Washington as the guest of my elder sister, Mrs. Eames, who a few years before had married Charles Eames, Esq., of the Washington Bar. Irving, who was then seventy-two years old, was making a brief visit to the Capital and called to see me. This was in 1855, when William M. Thackeray was on his second visit to this country and delivering his celebrated lectures upon "The Four Georges." I had scarcely welcomed Mr. Irving into my sister's drawing-room when Thackeray was announced, and I introduced the two famous but totally dissimilar men to each other. Thackeray was a man of powerful build and a very direct manner, but to my mind was not an individual to be overpowered by sentiment. I can not remember after the flight of so many years the nature of the conversation between Irving and Thackeray apart from the mutual interchange that ordinarily pa.s.ses between strangers when casually presented.

Later I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Thackeray quite a number of times during his sojourn in Washington where he was much lionized in society. One evening we were all gathered around the family tea table when he chanced to call and join us in that cup which is said to cheer.

He entered into conversation with much enthusiasm, especially when he referred to his children. He seemed to have a special admiration for a young daughter of his, and related many pleasing anecdotes of her juvenile apt.i.tude. I think he referred to Anne Isabella Thackeray (Lady Richie), who gave to the public a biographical edition of her father's famous works. I remember we drifted into a conversation upon a recently published novel, but the t.i.tle of the book and its author I do not recall. At any rate, he was discussing its heroine, who, under some extraordinary stress of circ.u.mstances, was forced to walk many miles in her stocking-feet to obtain succor, and the whole story was thrilling in the extreme; whereupon the author of "Vanity Fair" exclaimed, "She was shoeicidal." Although he was an Englishman, he was not averse to a pun--even a poor one! I remember asking Mr. Thackeray whether during his visit to New York he had met Mrs. De Witt Clinton. His response was characteristic: "Yes, and she is a gay old girl!"

James K. Paulding, the distinguished author who married the sister of Gouverneur and William Kemble and lived at Hyde Park, farther up the Hudson, frequently formed one of the pleasant coterie that gathered around "Uncle Gouv's" board. "The Sage of Lindenwald," as ex-President Martin Van Buren was frequently called by both friend and foe, also repeatedly came from his home in Kinderhook to dine with Mr. Kemble, and these memories call to mind a dinner I attended at "Uncle Gouv's" when Mr. Van Buren was the princ.i.p.al guest. Although it was many years after his retirement from the presidential office, the impression he made upon me was that of a quiet, deliberate old gentleman, who continued to be well versed in the affairs of state.

A short distance from Cold Spring is Garrison's, where many wealthy New Yorkers have their country seats. Putnam County, in which both Garrison's and Cold Spring are located, was once a portion of Philipse Manor. The house in the "Upper Manor," as this tract of land was called, was The Grange, but over forty years ago it was burned to the ground. It was originally built by Captain Frederick Philips about 1800, and was the scene of much festivity. The Philipses were tories during the Revolution, and it is said that this property would doubtless have been confiscated by the government but for the fact that Mary Philips, who was Captain Frederick Philips' only child, was a minor at the close of the war in 1783. Mary Philips, whose descendants have spelled the name with a final _e_, married Samuel Gouverneur, and their eldest son, Frederick Philipse Gouverneur, dropped the name Gouverneur as a surname and a.s.sumed that of Philipse in order to inherit a large landed estate of which The Grange was a conspicuous part.

When I first visited Garrison's the Philipse family was living at The Grange in great elegance. Frederick Philipse was then a bachelor and his maiden sister, Mary Marston Gouverneur, presided over his establishment.

Another sister, Margaret Philipse Gouverneur, married William Moore, a son of the beloved physician, Dr. William Moore of New York, a nephew of President Benjamin Moore of Columbia College and a first cousin of Clement C. Moore who wrote the oft quoted verses, "'Twas the Night before Christmas," which have delighted the hearts of American children for so many decades.

Frederick Philipse subsequently married Catharine Wadsworth Post, a member of a prominent family of New York. It was while Mr. and Mrs.

Philipse were visiting her relatives that The Grange was destroyed by fire. Miss Mary Marston Gouverneur had ordered the chimneys cleaned, in the manner then prevalent, by making a fire in the chimney place on the first floor, in order to burn out the debris. The flames fortunately broke out on the top story, thus enabling members of the family to save many valuable heirlooms in the lower apartments. Among the paintings rescued and now in the possession of Frederick Philipse's daughters, the Misses Catharine Wadsworth Philipse and Margaret Gouverneur Philipse of New York, was the portrait of the pretty Mary Philipse, Washington's first love. Tradition states she refused his offer of marriage to become the bride of Roger Morris, an officer in the British Army. It is generally believed that she was the heroine of Cooper's "Spy;" but she had then laid aside the belleship of early youth and had become the intellectual matron of after years. Some of the other portraits rescued were those of Adolphus Philipse, second son of the first Lord of the Manor; Philip Philipse, and his wife, Margaret Marston, whose second husband was the Rev. John Ogilvie, for many years a.s.sistant minister of Trinity Church of New York; Margaret Philipse, younger sister of Mary, who married Roger Morris; Captain Frederick Philips, by Gilbert Stuart; Mrs. Samuel Gouverneur; Nathaniel Marston and his wife, Mary Crooke; and Mrs. Abraham Gouverneur who was the daughter of Jacob Leisler, at one time the Acting Governor of the Province of New York.

One visit I made to the Philipses at Garrison's is especially fresh in my memory, as Eleanor Jones Duer, a daughter of President William A.

Duer of Columbia College, who subsequently married George T. Wilson of Georgia, was their guest at the same time. She was a woman of much culture and refinement, and in every way a delightful companion. A great intimacy existed for many years between the Gouverneurs and Philipses of Garrison's and the Duer family of New York. The Philipses, who at this time lived very much in the old-fashioned style, were the last of the old families with which I was familiar to have the cloth removed after the dessert was served; and in doing this an elegant mahogany table always kept in a highly polished condition was displayed. Upon it were placed the fruits, nuts and wine. Another custom in the Philipse family which, as far as I know, was unique in this country was that of having four meals a day. Breakfast was served at eight, luncheon at one, dinner at six and supper at nine o'clock.

During another visit I made at The Grange I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. and Mrs. Henry Sheaffe Hoyt (Frances Maria Duer), who were house guests there and who had just returned from an extended European tour.

She was another daughter of President Duer of Columbia College and died not long ago in Newport, R.I., at a very advanced age. Mrs. John King Van Rensselaer, a daughter of Mrs. Archibald Gracie King (Elizabeth Denning Duer), is her niece.

Before leaving the banks of the Hudson River I must speak of my former a.s.sociations with Newburgh. From my earliest life we children were in the habit of making frequent visits to my mother's relatives, the Roe family, who resided there. We all eagerly looked forward to these trips up the Hudson which were made upon the old _Thomas Powell_ and later upon the _Mary Powell_. My mother's relative, Maria Hazard, married William Roe, one of the most highly respected and prosperous citizens of Newburgh. They lived in a stately mansion surrounded by several acres of land in the heart of the city. Mrs. Roe was a remarkable woman. I knew her only as an elderly matron; but, like women of advanced age in China, where I spent a number of years of my early married life, she controlled everyone who came within her "sphere of influence." I remember, for example, that upon one occasion when I was visiting her, Thomas Hazard Roe, her elder son, who at the time was over sixty years of age and a bachelor and who desired to go upon some hunting expedition, said to her: "Mother, have I your permission to go to the Adirondacks?" She thought for a few moments and replied: "Well, Hazard, I think you might go."

About the year 1840 Newburgh was recommended by two of the earliest prominent homeopathic physicians of New York City, Doctors John F. Gray and Amos G. Hull, as a locality well-adapted to people affected with delicate lungs, and upon their advice many families built handsome residences there. In my early recollection Newburgh had a fine hotel called the Powelton, which bade fair to become a prominent resort for New Yorkers. In the zenith of its prosperity, however, it was burned to the ground and was never rebuilt. I hardly think that anyone will have the a.s.surance to dispute the healthfulness of this place when I state that my cousin, Thomas Hazard Roe, of whom I have just spoken, died there in 1907 after having more than rounded a full century of years. He was in many ways a remarkable man with a mind well stored with knowledge, and he retained all of his mental faculties unclouded until the end of his life. His sister, Mary Elizabeth, the widow of the late William C. Hasbrouck, a prominent Newburgh lawyer and a few years his junior, also died quite recently in Newburgh at the age of ninety-seven.

Her son, General Henry C. Hasbrouck, U.S.A., also died but a short time since, but her daughter, Miss Maria Hasbrouck, whose whole life has been devoted to her family, still resides in the old homestead. The third and youngest member of this interesting trio, Miss Emily Maria Roe, is now living in Newburgh at an advanced age, surrounded by a large connection and beloved by everyone.

One of the most prominent families in Newburgh in years gone by was that of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Powell, from whom the celebrated river boats were named. Mrs. Powell's maiden name was Mary Ludlow, and she belonged to a well-known New York family. Her brother, Lieutenant Augustus C. Ludlow, who was second in command on board the _Chesapeake_, under Captain James Lawrence of "Don't give up the ship" fame, is buried by the latter's side in old Trinity church-yard in New York. Mrs. Powell took great pride and pleasure in the boat named in her honor, the _Mary Powell_, and I have frequently seen her upon my trips up the Hudson, sitting upon the deck of her namesake and chatting pleasantly with those around her.

Newburgh was also the home of Andrew Jackson Downing, the author of "Landscape Gardening," "Cottage Residences," and other similar works. I received my first knowledge of horticulture from a visit I made to his beautiful residence, which was surrounded by several acres. It was my earliest view of nature a.s.sisted by art, and to my untutored eye his lawn was a veritable Paradise. Some years later, when I was visiting the Scotts in Washington, Mr. Downing called and during our conversation told me that he had come to the Capital, upon the invitation of the government, to lay out the Smithsonian grounds. His wife was Miss Caroline De Wint of Fishkill, New York, a granddaughter of Mrs. Henry William Smith (Abigail Adams), the only daughter of President John Adams who reached maturity. After spending some months in Washington, Mr.

Downing was returning to his Newburgh home when the _Henry Clay_, a Hudson River steamboat upon which he had taken pa.s.sage, was destroyed by fire and he perished while attempting to rescue some of the pa.s.sengers. This was in 1852.

There are some persons still living who will readily recall, in connection with social functions, the not uncommon name of Brown. The particular Brown to whom I refer was the s.e.xton of Grace Episcopal Church, on the corner of Broadway and Tenth Street, where many of the _soi-disant creme de la creme_ worshiped. He must have possessed a christian name, but if so I never heard it for he was only plain Brown, and Brown he was called. He was born before the days when spurious genealogical charts are thrust at one, _nolens volens_; but probably this was lucky for him and the public was spared much that is uninteresting. In connection with his duties at Grace Church he came in contact with many fashionable people, and was enabled to add materially to his rather small income by calling carriages from the doorsteps for the society folk of the great metropolis. In this and other ways his pursuits gradually became so varied that in time he might have been safely cla.s.sed among the _dilettanti_. The most remarkable feature of his career, however, was the fact that, in spite of his humble calling, he became a veritable social dictator, and many an ambitious mother with a thousand-dollar ball upon her hands (this being about the usual sum spent upon an evening entertainment at that time), lacked the courage to embark upon such a venture without first seeking an interview with Brown. I knew but little about his powers of discrimination, as we as a family never found his services necessary, but when requested I know he furnished to these dependent hostesses lists of eligible young men whom he deemed proficient in the polka and mazurka, the fashionable dances of the day. Strange as it may appear, I can vouch for the truth of the statement that many an exclusive hostess was glad to avail herself of these lists of the accommodating Brown. The dances just mentioned were, by the way, introduced into this country by Pierro Saracco, an Italian master who taught me to dance, and who was quite popular in the fashionable circles of his day. Many years later, when I was residing in Maryland, he came to Frederick several times a week and gave dancing lessons to my two older daughters.

Brown was a pleasant, genial, decidedly "hail-fellow-well-met" man, as I remember him, and was in a way the precursor of Ward McAllister, though of course on a decidedly more unpretentious plane. One cannot but express surprise at the consideration with which Brown's _proteges_ were treated by the _elite_, nor can one deny that the social destinies of many young men were the direct result of his strenuous efforts. I remember, for example, one of these who at the time was "a youth to fortune and to fame unknown," whom Brown took under his sheltering wing and whose subsequent social career was shaped by him. He is of foreign birth, with a pleasing exterior and address and, through the instrumentality of his humble friend who gave him his first start, is to-day, although advanced in life, one of the most conspicuous financiers in New York, and occasionally has private audiences with presidents and other magnates. Moreover, I feel certain that he will welcome this humble tribute to his benefactor with much delight, as the halo which now surrounds his brow he owes in a large degree to his early introduction into the smart set by the s.e.xton of Grace Church. The last I ever heard of Brown, he visited Europe. After his return from his well-earned holiday he died and was laid to rest in his own native soil.

Peace to Brown's ashes--his work was well done! It cannot be said of him, as of many others, that he lived in vain, as he was doubtless the forerunner of the later and more accomplished leader and dictator of New York's "Four Hundred."

A poetaster paid him the following facetious tribute:

Oh, glorious Brown, thou medley strange Of churchyard, ballroom, saint, and sinner, Flying by morn through fashion's range And burying mortals after dinner.

Walking one day with invitations, Pa.s.sing the next at consecrations, Tossing the sod at eve on coffins, With one hand drying tears of orphans, And one unclasping ballroom carriage, Or cutting plumcake up for marriage; Dusting by day the pew and missal, Sounding by night the ballroom whistle, Admitted free through fashion's wicket, And skilled at psalms, at punch, and cricket.

An amusing anecdote is told of Brown's financial _protege_ whose name I have withheld. When he was still somewhat uncertain of his social status he received an invitation to a fancy ball given by a fashionable matron.

This recognition he regarded as a conspicuous social triumph, and in his desire to do the proper thing he sought William R. Travers--"Bill Travers," as he was generally called--to ask his advice in regard to the proper costume for him to wear. The inquiring social aspirant had a head well-denuded of hair, and Mr. Travers, after a moment's hesitation, wittingly replied: "Sugarcoat your head and go as a pill!"

Though not a professional wit, Brown was at least capable of making a pun quite equal to those inflicted upon society by some of his superiors. As s.e.xton of Grace Church, he officiated at the wedding of Miss Phoebe Lord, a daughter of Daniel Lord, whose marriage to Henry Day, a rising young lawyer, was solemnized in this edifice. At the close of the reception following the marriage ceremony someone laughingly called upon Brown for a toast. He was equal to the occasion as he quickly replied: "This is the Lord's Day!"

CHAPTER VII

FASHION AND LETTERS

One of the show places of New York State, many years ago, was the residence of John Greig, a polished Scotch gentleman who presided with dignity over his princely estate in Canandaigua in central New York, and there dispensed a generous hospitality. Mr. Greig was the agent for some of the English n.o.bility, many of whom owned extensive tracts of land in America. The village of Canandaigua was also the home of the Honorable Francis Granger, a son of Gideon Granger, Postmaster General under Jefferson and Madison. Francis Granger was the Postmaster General for a brief period under President William Henry Harrison, but the latter died soon after his inauguration and his successor did not retain him in his cabinet. It is said of Francis Granger that he was a firm believer in the words of ex-Governor William L. Marcy in the United States Senate in 1832 that "to the victors belong the spoils of the enemy," and that during his month of cabinet service eighteen hundred employees in his department were dismissed. The Democrats evidently thought that "turn about was fair play," as a few years later, under President Polk, the work of decapitation was equally active. Ransom H. Gillett, Register of the Treasury at that time, became so famous at head-chopping, that he was soon nicknamed "Guillotine."

Mr. Granger, with his fine physique and engaging manner (he was often called "the handsome Frank Granger"), was well adapted to the requirements of social life and especially to those of the National Capital, where the _beaux esprits_ usually congregated. His only daughter, Adele Granger, often called "the witty Miss Granger," was at school at Madame Chegaray's with my elder sister f.a.n.n.y, and in my earlier life was frequently a guest in our Houston Street home, prior to her sojourn in Washington, where her father for many years represented his district in Congress. We looked forward to her visits as one antic.i.p.ates with delight a ray of sunshine. She was always a.s.sured of the heartiest of welcomes in Washington, where she was the center of a bright and intellectual circle. She finally married Mr. John E. Thayer, a Boston capitalist, and after his death became the wife of the Hon.

Robert C. Winthrop of the same city. She presided with grace over a summer home in Brookline and a winter residence in Boston, at both of which she received hosts of distinguished guests. To ill.u.s.trate the importance with which she was regarded, one of her guests remarked to me, during one of my visits at the Brookline home, that Mrs. Winthrop was more than one woman--that in that locality she was considered an "inst.i.tution." In the latter part of Mr. Winthrop's life I received a very graceful note from him enclosing the following ode written by him in honor of the golden jubilee of Queen Victoria:

BOSTON, Ma.s.s.

90 Marlborough Street, 20 Feb'y 1888.

Dear Mrs. Gouverneur:

Your kind note and the pamphlet reached me this morning. I thank you for them both.

I have lost no time in hunting up a spare copy of my little Ode on the Queen's Jubilee.

I threw it into a newspaper with not a little misgiving. I certainly did not dream that it would be asked for by a lady seven or eight months after its date. I appreciate the compliment.

Yours truly,

ROBT. C. WINTHROP.

Mrs. M. Gouverneur.

ODE.

Not as our Empress do we come to greet thee, Augusta Victoria, On this auspicious Jubilee: Wide as old England's realms extend, O'er earth and sea,-- Her flag in every clime unfurled, Her morning drum-beat compa.s.sing the world,-- Yet here her sway Imperial finds an end, In our loved land of Liberty!

Nor is it as our Queen for us to hail thee, Excellent Majesty, On this auspicious Jubilee: Long, long ago our patriot fathers broke The tie which bound us to a foreign yoke, And made us free; Subjects thenceforward of ourselves alone, We pay no homage to an earthly throne,-- Only to G.o.d we bend the knee!

Still, still, to-day and here, thou hast a part, Ill.u.s.trious Lady, In every honest Anglo-Saxon heart, Albeit untrained to notes of loyalty: As lovers of our old ancestral race,-- In reverence for the goodness and the grace Which lends thy fifty years of Royalty A monumental glory on the Historic page, Emblazoning them forever as the Victorian Age;

For all the virtue, faith and fort.i.tude, The piety and truth Which mark thy n.o.ble womanhood, As erst thy golden youth,-- We also would do honor to thy name, Joining our distant voices to the loud acclaim Which rings o'er earth and sea, In attestation of the just renown Thy reign has added to the British Crown!

Meanwhile no swelling sounds of exultation Can banish from our memory, On this auspicious Jubilee, A saintly figure standing at thy side, The cherished consort of thy power and pride, Through weary years the subject of thy tears, And mourned in every nation,-- Whose latest words a wrong to us withstood, The friend of peace,--Albert, the Wise and Good!

Boston, June, 1887. ROBERT C. WINTHROP.

At Geneseo, in the beautiful Genesee Valley, and a few miles from Canandaigua, in one of the most fertile portions of the State of New York, resided a contemporary and friend of Mrs. Robert C. Winthrop, Miss Elizabeth Wadsworth, a daughter of James Wadsworth, a well-known philanthropist and one of the wealthiest landed proprietors in the state. He was also the father of Major General James S. Wadsworth, a defeated candidate for Governor of New York, who was killed in 1864 at the battle of the Wilderness. Miss Wadsworth was celebrated for her grace of manner. I had the pleasure of knowing her quite well in New York, where she generally pa.s.sed her winters. Quite early in life and before the period when the fair daughters of America had discovered, to any great extent, the advantages of matrimonial alliances with foreign _partis_, she married the Honorable Charles Augustus Murray, a member of the English Parliament and of a Scotch family, the head of which was the Earl of Dunmore. She lived but a few years, and died in Egypt, where her husband was Consul General, leaving a young son. Her husband's ancestor, John Murray, Lord Dunmore, was the last Colonial Governor of Virginia.

It has been a.s.serted that but few, if any, Colonial Governors, not even the sportive Lord Cornbury of New York who, upon state occasions, dressed himself up in female attire in compliment to his royal cousin, Queen Anne, had quite as eventful a career. Lord Dunmore originally came to America as Governor of the Province of New York, but was subsequently transferred to Virginia. While in New York he was made President of the St. Andrew's Society, a Scotch organization which had been in existence about twenty years and whose first President was Philip Livingston, the Signer. In an old New York directory of 1798 I find the following names of officers of this society for the preceding year: Walter Ruturfurde (sic), President; Peter M'Dougall and George Turnbull, Vice Presidents; George Dougla.s.s, Treasurer; George Johnson, Secretary; John Munro, a.s.sistant Secretary; the Rev. John M. Mason and the Rev. John Bisset, Chaplains; Dr. James Tillary, Physician; and William Renwick, James Stuart, John Knox, Alexander Thomson, Andrew D. Barclay, and John M'Gregor, Managers.

It was not at all flattering to the pride of Virginia that Lord Dunmore lingered so long in New York after his order of transfer to the Old Dominion. He also greatly incurred the displeasure of the Virginians by occasionally dissolving their a.s.sembly, and they found him generally inimical to their interests. Finally matters were brought to an issue, and Dunmore, in defense of his conduct, issued a proclamation against "a certain Patrick Henry and his deluded followers." His final act was the burning of Norfolk in 1776, which at that time was the most flourishing city in Virginia. During Lord Dunmore's life in Colonial Virginia, a daughter was born to him and at the request of the a.s.sembly was named "Virginia." It is said that subsequently a provision was made by the Provincial Legislature, by virtue of which she was to receive a very large sum of money when she became of age. Meanwhile, the War of the Revolution severed the yoke of Great Britain, and Lord Dunmore returned to England with his family. Time pa.s.sed and the little girl born in the Virginia colony grew into womanhood. Her father had died and as her circ.u.mstances became contracted she addressed a letter to Thomas Jefferson, then President of the United States, under the impression that he was Governor of Virginia. Jefferson sent the letter to James Monroe, who was then Governor of Virginia, and he in turn referred it to the Legislature of that State. This letter is now in my possession and is as follows:

Sir:

I am at a loss how to begin a letter in which I am desirous of stating claims that many long years have been forgotten, but which I think no time can really annihilate until fulfilment has followed the promise. I imagine that you must have heard that during my father Dunmore's residence in America I was born and that the a.s.sembly, then sitting at Williamsburg, requested that I might be their G.o.d-daughter and christened by the name of Virginia; which request being complied with, they purposed providing for me in a manner suitable to the honor they conferred upon me and to the responsibility they had taken on themselves. I was accordingly christened as the G.o.d-daughter of that a.s.sembly and named after the State. Events have since occurred which in some measure may have altered the intentions then expressed in my favor. These were (so I have understood) that a sum of money should be settled upon me which, acc.u.mulating during my minority, would make up the sum of one hundred thousand pounds when I became of age. It is true many changes may have taken place in America, but that fact still remains the same. I am still the G.o.d-daughter of the Virginians. By being that, may I not flatter myself I have some claims upon their benevolence if not upon their justice? May I not ask that State, especially you, sir, their Governor, to fulfil in some respects the engagements entered into by their predecessors? Your fathers promised mine that I should become their charge. I am totally unprovided for; for my father died without making a will. My brothers are married, having families of their own; and not being bound to do anything for me, they regard with indifference my unprotected and neglected situation. Perhaps I ought not to mention this circ.u.mstance as a proper inducement for you to act upon; nor would I, were it not my excuse for wishing to remind you of the claims I now advance. I hope you will feel my right to your favor and protection to be founded on the promises made by your own fathers, and in the situation in which I stand with regard to the State of Virginia. You will ask, sir, why my appeal to your generosity and justice has been so tardy. While my father lived, I lived under his protection and guidance. He had incurred the displeasure of the Virginians and he feared an application from me would have seemed like one from him.

At his decease I became a free agent. I had taken no part which could displease my G.o.d-fathers, and myself remained what the a.s.sembly had made me--their G.o.d-daughter, consequently their charge. I wish particularly to enforce my dependence upon your bounty; for I feel hopes revive, which owe their birth to your honor and generosity, and to that of the State whose representative I now address. Now that my father is no more, I am certain they and you will remember what merited your esteem in his character and conduct and forget that which estranged your hearts from so honorable a man. But should you not, you are too just to visit what you deem the sins of the father upon his luckless daughter.