in the twenty-second year of her age, and he having completed his
twenty-third on that day, was particularly acceptable to both houses;
and Letitia being the idol of her brothers and sisters, upon Mr. Tyler
was at once concentrated the unfailing affection and support—an
affection and support which attended him through life—of every member of
the numerous and powerful Christian family, harmonizing to no
inconsiderable extent in Lower Virginia, and uniting in his favor both
of the great political parties of the day—his own father having been,
privately and publicly, the constant friend of Henry and of Jefferson, a
leader in the movement and war of Independence, and the special
representative of the State Rights Republicans in his own right, and Mr.
Robert Christian having been the constant friend of Washington, and a
prominent leader and representative man among the Federalists.
The wedding festivities over, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler retired to their own
home in Charles City county, a part of the “Greenway” estate of his
father, which at once became an object of attraction and intense
interest to the many admirers, friends, and relatives of its happy
inmates. Dating from this period until Mrs. Tyler’s death in the
Executive Mansion, at the city of Washington, nearly thirty years
afterward, nothing, except the loss of two infant children and her
subsequent ill-health, ever transpired to mar the felicity of this
auspicious union.
In the unselfish, constant, and vigilant affection of his wife, in her
personal charms, in her strong common sense and excellent judgment, in
her unaffected religious sentiments, in the sweet purity of her gentle
life, in her parental and filial devotion, in her watchful care and love
for her children, Mr. Tyler found everything to satisfy his affections
and to gratify his pride.
In his admitted integrity and worth as a man and citizen, in his great
intellectual powers, in his constantly increasing prosperity and rising
reputation, in the accounts she received of his eloquence both at the
bar and in the legislature, and in the high official trusts which
ultimately were literally showered upon him, one after the other, almost
without intermission; and finally in his tender solicitude to restore
her failing health and to minister to her slightest wish, she discovered
all that her woman’s heart, or her feminine ambition required, to
complete and secure her wedded happiness. The following letter, the
first that Mr. Tyler ever ventured to address to her before marriage,
and the original of which is still preserved in the family—apart from
the natural simplicity of its style and the ordinary interest that would
attach to it—not only presents the most unmistakable evidence of the
sound and healthy sentiments, emotions, and principles of character
associated with both and impelling to their union, but it is also a
remarkable illustration, in view of a long engagement prior to marriage,
of the delicate tone and exalted purity of the social structure and
civilization that surrounded them and under whose happy influences they
were born and reared.
“RICHMOND, _December 5th, 1812_.
“Although I could not entirely obtain your permission to write to you,
yet I am well aware that you will not be displeased at my exercising a
privilege, so valuable to one standing in the relation that I do to you.
To think of you and to write to you, are the only sources from whence I
can derive any real satisfaction during my residence in this place. The
prerogative of thinking of those we love, and from whom we are
separated, seems to be guaranteed to us by nature, as we cannot be
deprived of it either by the bustle and confusion of a town, or by the
important duties that attach to our existence. Believe me, my L., that
this observation has been completely verified by me since I last saw
you, for although deafened by noise, and attentive to the duties of my
station, yet you are the subject of my serious meditations and the
object of my fervent prayers to heaven. From the first moment of my
acquaintance with you, I felt the influence of genuine affection; but
now, when I reflect upon the sacrifice which you make to virtue and to
feeling, by conferring your hand on me, who have nothing to boast of but
an honest and upright soul, and a heart of purest love, I feel gratitude
superadded to affection for you. Indeed, I do esteem myself most rich in
possessing you. The mean and sordid wretch who yields the unspeakable
bliss of possessing her whom he ardently loves, may boast of his
ill-acquired wealth, and display his treasures in all the pride of
ostentation to the world, but who shall administer to him comfort in the
hour of affliction? Whose seraph smile shall chase away the fiends which
torment him? The partner of his bosom he neither esteems nor regards,
and he knows nothing of the balm which tender affection can bestow.
Nature will be still true to herself, for as your favorite Thomson
expresses it,
“‘Naught but love can answer love,
Or render bliss secure.’
“You express some degree of astonishment, my L., at an observation I
once made to you, ‘that I would not have been willingly wealthy at the
time that I addressed you.’ Suffer me to repeat it. If I had been
wealthy, the idea of your being actuated by prudential considerations in
accepting my suit, would have eternally tortured me. But I exposed to
you frankly and unblushingly my situation in life—my hopes and my fears,
my prospects and my dependencies—and you nobly responded. To ensure to
you happiness is now my only object, and whether I float or sink in the
stream of fortune, you may be assured of this, that I shall never cease
to love you. Forgive me for these remarks, which I have been
irresistibly led to make.
“Colonel Christian will deliver you this letter, together with the first
two volumes of the ‘Forest of Montabano,’ I do not trouble him with the
last two volumes, for fear of incommoding him, and because I shall be at
your father’s on Wednesday evening, if the business before the
Legislature be not very important. You will feel much sympathy for the
unfortunate Angelina, and admiration for the character of good Father
Patrick. Frederick is inexplicable until the last volume is read.
“Again suffer me to assure you of my constant esteem and affection, and
believe me to be yours most faithfully,
“JOHN TYLER.
“To MISS LETITIA CHRISTIAN,
“New Kent.”
Mrs. Letitia Semple, the only surviving daughter of Mrs. Letitia Tyler,
says, regarding this letter, “I enclose you a copy of the first letter
my father ever wrote to my mother; and I had a book of original sonnets
written by him in his youthful days, many of which were addressed to
her; for he was full of music and full of poetry and possessed an
exquisite literary taste; but this book has been lost to us, in one of
my writing desks stolen during the war.
“My father and my mother were born in the same year—that of 1790, he
being from the 29th March to the 12th November older than she was. They
were married on father’s twenty-third birthday following that of his
birth, after a courtship and engagement of nearly five years. He met her
for the first time at a private party in the neighborhood, while on a
visit to ‘Greenway,’ the home residence of grandfather Tyler, in Charles
City county, adjoining that of New Kent, where grandfather Christian
resided at ‘Cedar Grove.’ He had already taken his collegiate degrees at
William and Mary College when scarcely more than seventeen years old,
and was at the time a law student in Richmond, under the special office
counsel and instruction of the celebrated Edmund Randolph, justly
esteemed as the father of the Constitution of the United States, as Mr.
Jefferson was of the Declaration of American Independence, and who had
been the Attorney-General of President Washington, and the Secretary of
State of President Jefferson, my grandfather Tyler being Governor of
Virginia, and then residing in Richmond. After their troth was plighted,
he had been twice or thrice elected to the State Legislature before
their marriage was solemnized; and his last visit to her at ‘Cedar
Grove’ was only three weeks before the wedding, yet I have heard him
repeatedly say that, ‘then, for the first time, he ventured to kiss her
hand on parting, so perfectly reserved and modest had she always been.’
“My mother’s mother was Mary Brown, of the same family with that of the
late Judge John Brown, of Williamsburg, and Professor Dabney Brown, of
William and Mary College, the former of whom finally moved to Kentucky,
and the latter more recently to California; and with that of the Hon.
James Halyburton, late Judge of the United States District Court of
Virginia, and of the Hon. John M. Gregory, late Judge of the Henrico
Circuit and Governor of Virginia; and as to the late Judge Christian,
and the present Judge Christian, of the Peninsular Circuit and of the
General Court of Virginia, the first was her son, and the last her
cousin, as are also the present Doctors William and Edward Warren,
formerly of Edenton, North Carolina, whither they moved from New Kent in
Virginia, but now of Baltimore.”
Not long after her marriage, Mrs. Tyler had the misfortune to lose both
of her parents, and now having two less to love in this world, she
freely gave the share which had been theirs, to her husband and her
children, and to her sisters and her brothers. In truth, at no period of
her life does it seem that she existed for herself, but only for those
near and dear to her.
She was noted for the beauty of her person and of her features, for the
ease and grace of her carriage, for a delicate refinement of taste in
dress that excluded with precision every color and ornament not strictly
becoming and harmonizing in the general effect. Possessing an acute
nervous organization and sensitive temperament, combined with an
unusually correct judgment, any observant stranger of polished education
would have been almost unconsciously attracted to her among thousands by
her air of quiet courtesy and benignity. With these engaging qualities,
and the social advantages attaching to her position, she could easily
have impressed her power upon what is termed society had she so desired,
still she never aspired to wield the sceptre of fashion, and never
sought to attract attention beyond the limits of her own family, and the
circle of her immediate friends and relatives.
She modestly shrank from all notoriety and evaded the public eye as much
as possible. She had not the faintest wish to enjoy the reputation of
authoress or wit, or for maintaining an ascendency in the company of
brilliant men and women of the world. She was perfectly content to be
seen only as a part of the existence of her beloved husband; to
entertain her neighbors in her own easy, hospitable, and unostentatious
way; to converse with visitors on current topics intelligently; to sit
gently by her child’s cradle, reading, knitting, or sewing; or else to
while away pleasant hours in the endearing companionship of her sisters
and her intimate acquaintances.
It appears that, though she resided in Richmond during the period that
Mr. Tyler was Governor of Virginia, and did the honors of the Executive
Dwelling of the State with ease, and grace, and singular discretion,
winning the commendation of all at a time when the metropolis of
Virginia was unexcelled upon the American continent, either in respect
to elegant men or accomplished women; yet that she had rarely visited
the city while he was a member of the Legislature, and that during his
long term of service as Representative and Senator in the Congress of
the United States—having been three times elected to the House and twice
to the Senate,—she suffered herself to be persuaded only once to pass a
winter in Washington, and at the end of another session only reluctantly
consented, at his earnest entreaty, to visit one summer the gay centres
and resorts of the North.
When either her own health, or that of her husband, or that of her
children, absolutely required a change of air and scene, as several
times happened, she vastly preferred the bracing temperature and
invigorating atmosphere of the mountains of Virginia and the
life-imparting Greenbriar waters to the seats of more fashionable
display and empty vanity. She was, under all circumstances, the wife and
mother, sister and friend, apparently living in and for those whom she
loved, and not for herself.
No English lady was ever more skilled and accomplished in domestic
culture and economy than was Mrs. Tyler, and she was never so happy as
when in the enjoyment of domestic privacy. At her own home she was a
pattern of order, system, and neatness, as well as of hospitality,
charity, benevolence, and conscientiousness in the discharge of every
duty incumbent upon the mistress of a large household, and scrupulously
attentive to every wish expressed by her husband as to the management of
his interests in his absence on public affairs.
Nothing escaped her watchful yet kindly eye, either within or without
the mansion. She loved all pure and beautiful things, whether in nature
or in art. The grounds within the curtilage were tastefully arranged in
lawns and gardens, and under her immediate inspection were kept
carefully adorned with shade trees, and flowering shrubs, and
odoriferous plants, and trailing vines, so that in the spring, summer,
and fall the airs around were literally loaded with sweets. The
kitchen-garden and fruit-orchards were always extensively cultivated.
The dairy and laundry were sedulously supervised, and in all directions
poultry and fowls of almost every kind most prized for the table, were
to be seen in flocks. She preferred that her servant-women should be
held to these milder employments, and to spinning and weaving, knitting
and sewing, rather than being assigned to the more onerous tasks of the
field upon the plantation.
Thus, under her superintendence, not only were all the negro field-hands
and negro children comfortably provided with clothing of home
manufacture and make, as well as ministered to with care and supplied
with all necessary medical attendance when sick, but, at the same time,
the members of the immediate household had their wants, in these
respects, for the most part bountifully met; while the rarest and most
beautiful toilet fabrics, and counterpanes, and coverlets, such as are
not now to be had at any price, were produced by her handmaids, assisted
by those of the neighborhood inheriting the art. Beyond all question,
and without regard to the portion she brought with her after marriage,
as the gift of her father, which was by no means relatively
inconsiderable, she maintained by her active economy the pecuniary
independence of her husband under his continued public employments, in
an age of public virtue, when the representatives of the people, as well
as those of the States, received but slight remuneration for their
services, and when, in all probability, he would have been otherwise
compelled to have withdrawn from the public councils, and to have
relinquished the career of ambition in view of his family necessities
and requirements.
Mrs. Tyler was baptized in infancy in the Protestant Episcopal Church,
and in early life became a consistent communicant. At every stage of her
existence she was pervaded by a deep religious sentiment, and the Bible
was her constant companion. For her neighborly and charitable nature she
was proverbial. Although every one who knew her as a young unmarried
lady, and nearly all of her contemporaries in more advanced years, are
now dead, still her reputation in these respects abides among the
living, and is particularly referred to and commented upon in every
communication we received concerning her, as well as in all of her
obituaries that we have read. And one of the most beautiful traits in
her lovely and almost faultless character, in the midst of all her
mildness, meekness, gentleness and amiability, was the perfect
self-respect which constantly attended her, beating in unison with her
true woman’s soul, suffering no encroachment upon true propriety and
decorum in her presence, and sustaining her dignity as a Virginia
matron, which never, under any circumstances whatever, deserted her.
Mrs. Robert Tyler, the wife of her oldest son, thus wrote concerning
her, at her own home, in the bosom of her own family, in the old city of
Williamsburg, Virginia, under the first impressions she received after
she was married in Pennsylvania, to her sisters at the North:
“WILLIAMSBURG, VIRGINIA, _October, 1839_.
* * * “The bridal festivities so profusely extended to us in Charles
City, that most hospitable of counties, ended last week. My honeymoon
has waned, and I have at last settled down at home. If I can ever learn
to think any place a home where my own dear father and sisters are not,
I certainly can do so here, for a new father and mother have opened
their arms and their hearts to me; new and lovely sisters cluster around
me; and I am welcomed and approved of by any number of uncles, aunts and
cousins. The introduction to all of them was an awful ordeal to go
through, you may be sure, but it is happily over, and I have now settled
myself down absolutely as one of the family. I know you want me to tell
you of each separate member, and of the house, and all my surroundings.
“You know how entirely charming Mr. Tyler’s father is, for you saw him
at my wedding in Bristol, but you cannot imagine the tenderness and
kindness with which he received me, his ‘new daughter,’ as he called me.
Mr. Tyler’s mother is very much as I imagined her from his description.
She must have been very beautiful in her youth, for she is still
beautiful now in her declining years and wretched health. Her skin is as
smooth and soft as a baby’s; she has sweet, loving black eyes, and her
features are delicately moulded; besides this her feet and hands are
perfect; and she is gentle and graceful in her movements, with a most
peculiar air of native refinement about everything she says and does.
She is the most entirely unselfish person you can imagine. I do not
believe she ever thinks of herself. Her whole thought and affections are
wrapped up in her husband and children; and I thank God I am numbered
with those dear children, and can partake with them in the blessing of
her love. May He give me grace to be ever a kind and loving daughter to
her.
* * * * *
“The house is very large and very airy and pleasant, fronting on a large
lawn and surrounded by a most beautiful garden. The parlor is
comfortably furnished, and has that homelike and occupied look which is
so nice. The prettiest thing in it, to my taste, though very
old-fashioned, is the paper upon the walls, which depicts in half
life-size pictures the adventures of Telemachus on Calypso’s enchanted
isle. Telemachus is very handsome, Calypso and her nymphs as graceful as
possible; and old Mentor as disagreeable and stern as all Mentors
usually are. I find something new in the paper every day, and love to
study it. The dining-room is opposite the parlor, across a broad
passage, kept too bright and shiny almost to step upon, and is also a
very spacious room, with a great deal of old family silver adorning the
sideboard, and some good pictures upon the walls. There are two other
rooms behind the parlor and the dining-room, one of which is used as a
sitting and reading-room, for it is a large double house, flanked by
offices in the yard in which the library is kept, and one of which is
used for law and business purposes by Mr. Tyler’s father and himself.
“The room in the main dwelling furthest removed and most retired is ‘the
chamber,’ as the bedroom of the mistress of the house is always called
in Virginia. This last, to say nothing of others, or of the kitchen,
storerooms and pantries, is a most quiet and comfortable retreat, with
an air of repose and sanctity about it; at least I feel it so, and often
seek refuge here from the company, and beaux, and laughing and talking
of the other parts of the house; for here mother, with a smile of
welcome on her sweet, calm face, is always found seated on her large
arm-chair with a small stand by her side, which holds her Bible and her
prayer book—the only books she ever reads now—with her knitting usually
in her hands, always ready to sympathize with me in any little
homesickness which may disturb me, and to ask me questions about all you
dear ones in Bristol, because she knows I want to talk about you.
Notwithstanding her very delicate health, mother attends to and
regulates all the household affairs, and all so quietly that you can’t
tell when she does it. All the clothes for the children, and for the
servants, are cut out under her immediate eye, and all the sewing is
personally superintended by her. All the cake, jellies, custards, and we
indulge largely in them, emanate from her, yet you see no confusion,
hear no bustle, but only meet the agreeable result. * * * * All Mr.
Tyler’s sisters are lovely and sweet. Sister Mary—Mrs. Jones, who is the
oldest of all—I have already introduced you to in my letter from Charles
City, where she resides, at ‘Woodburn,’ one of the plantations or
‘farms’ as they are called here, of her husband, and where she so
happily entertained us recently. Next comes Letitia, Mrs. Semple,
married last February. She is very handsome and full of life and
spirits. She has a place called ‘Cedar Hill,’ some distance from
Williamsburg, in New Kent county, but is now here on a visit. Then comes
Elizabeth, a very great belle here, though she is not yet seventeen. She
is remarkably sweet and pretty, with beautiful eyes and complexion, and
her hair curled down her neck. John, who is next to Mr. Tyler in age,
and who was at my wedding, and therefore needs no description, is not
here now, but he and his wife will spend next winter with his father, as
he still attends the law department and higher scientific courses of
‘William and Mary’ college, as it is termed in accordance with the
original charter of King William and Queen Mary, although it is now and
has been for many years a university.
“I have not seen her yet, but hear that she is very beautiful. The two
younger children, Alice and Tazewell, make up the family. * * * The
children, with all the rest of the family, seem very, very fond of me,
but you must not suppose that all this affection and kindness makes me
vain. It is very comforting and sweet, but I know they all love me from
no merit of my own, but from the devotion the whole family feel for Mr.
Tyler, who is idolized by his parents, and profoundly loved and
respected by his brothers and sisters.”[17]
Footnote 17:
The ancient Tylers of Virginia, of whom but few are left in the State,
were from a younger branch of the Tylers of Shropshire, in Wales,
bordering on England. John and Henry, brothers, came to Virginia in
the beginning of the settlement, and finally took up their abode in
the “Middle Plantations” between Jamestown and Yorktown, in 1636.
President Tyler was the fifth John from the first of the name. The
older line in Shropshire, now divided, still maintain their status
there, represented by the present Sir Charles, son of the late Sir
William. The Tylers of the North have never been able to trace any
connection or common origin with those of Virginia, either in their
correspondence with the first Governor Tyler, or with President Tyler;
but of recent years many have poured into Eastern Virginia, and some
have now purchased estates that formerly belonged to the ancient
Virginia family. History in the future will doubtless, under these
circumstances, become confused on the subject.
Mrs. Letitia Semple, in a letter addressed to her brother, and which he
kindly placed at my disposal, thus writes:
* * * * * * “It is a sad truth, but I know of no one now alive who
remembers my mother in her youth. As late as 1861, there were several
who had known her from infancy, but now they are all gone. We have not
an uncle, or an aunt, of all our once numerous family, left on earth.
The early portion of her life must be gleaned from the little incidents
we, her children, may remember to have been recited concerning her, by
those now dead. Apart from ourselves, there are those who may recall
something of her married life, but these have been scattered by the
events of the war far and wide asunder. Her character was so
unobtrusive, and her personal deportment was so little influenced by a
desire to shine before the public eye, that those alone best knew her
who were intimately associated with the family as near relatives, or as
private friends. Our older and two younger sisters are dead; our elder
brother, and one younger, the one driven by the relentless fates to
Alabama, and the other to California, and you, the sport of a similar
fatality, together with myself, may recollect many little things sacred
to filial devotion. The beautiful affection ever manifested toward her
by every member of the family—by her uncles and her aunts, by her
sisters and her brothers, her nephews and her nieces, and by her
cousins, male and female—by all without exception—we know of, and can
speak to the fact. It was with each one of them the unadulterated
affection of the heart for piety, purity and goodness. There was nothing
else to attract it, for their mere worldly circumstances were, in every
direction, fully equal to her own, and in many instances superior in
affluence to those she enjoyed. Nothing could have exceeded the
devotional regard of her sister Anna, the owner of the paternal estate
of Cedar Grove, and who in addition to her own inheritance, had derived
a large fortune by marriage and the early death of her husband, Mr.
Savage. And I have often heard aunt Elizabeth Douglas, her oldest
sister, speak of her obedient disposition and truthfulness as a child,
and of her almost surpassing beauty, grace, elegance, and refinement in
riper years. We ourselves know how exemplary a wife and mother she was.
One of the earliest memories I have of her is, that she taught me my
letters out of the family Bible. Over and often can I recall her with a
book in her lap, reading and reflecting, while her fingers were knitting
or stitching for some of us; or while watching over us until a late hour
of the night, in the absence of our father upon his public duties.
“You know that these days of our childhood were days of struggle with
our father, under heavy security obligations, and she had but one idea
apart from conjugal piety and affection, and that was to save him from
every care and every expense in her power.
“His pecuniary independence was preserved, and much of his success was
secured, through her economy, her diligence, her providence, and her
admirable self-sacrificing demeanor. I have frequently heard our father
say that he rarely failed to consult her judgment in the midst of
difficulties and troubles, and that she invariably led him to the best
conclusion, and that he had never known her to speak unkindly of any
one. She was permitted to see him fill the highest office in the gift of
his country, but before he was suffered to enter into his rest from
political life, she had gone to that rest remaining for the people of
God. She died, as you know, on the 10th September, 1842, in the
Executive Mansion at Washington, where her third daughter, our sister
Elizabeth Waller, had been shortly before married, and where two of her
grandchildren now living,—the oldest daughter of our brother Robert,
named Letitia, and the youngest son of our sister Mary, named
Robert—were born.
“You remember her fondness for flowers. Her favorite flower was the
monthly damask rose, and that brought in to her on the morning of the
day of her death, was found clasped in her hand when the spirit was
fled. From the time that she had been first stricken by paralysis, her
health had been frail, but none of us anticipated an immediate, or even
an early renewal of the attack, and far less a sudden dissolution of her
system; and I had closed my last visit to her only a few days before,
and had gone to ‘Cedar Grove’ to inform Aunt Anne of the condition in
which I had left her, as if the sad Fates had carried me there to be
ready to receive her remains, returning to the place of their birth to
repose, in their separation from her husband, by the side of those of
her father and her mother, as when first quickened into life; but our
sister, Elizabeth Waller, and our Aunt Elizabeth Douglas, were with her,
and witnessed her last breath, and they told me this particularly sweet
circumstance of her favorite rose still clinging to her hand in death.”
These letters, taken with the obituaries subjoined, and the lines of Mr.
Sargent, together with other communications descriptive of the daily
social routine in the “White House” at this epoch, which remain to be
submitted and cannot fail to interest, leave but little necessary to
fill out and perfect the portraiture of one of the loveliest characters
in history.
Upon the accession of her husband to the Presidential office in the
beginning of April, 1841, Mrs. Tyler proceeded with him to the Executive
Mansion of the nation, at Washington, but with many sighs and tears at
parting with her own home, and without the thought of personal triumphs
in the world of fashion and display. She resigned herself to the change
simply to be with her loved ones, and to receive the tender care and
attention of those in whom she literally “lived and had her being.” Her
health had become greatly impaired from a severe attack of illness
during the year 1839, and her condition remained as has been described
by her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Robert Tyler, then to have been in the
month of October. Nevertheless, in all the private apartments of the
President’s mansion, the same modes of life were maintained as those to
which she had ever been accustomed. Her sisters and brothers and other
relatives, as well as her children, still hovered around her, as they
had always done, with increased and increasing affection as they
discovered her frame becoming somewhat more feeble. She passed her time
chiefly in their society, receiving but few visitors and returning no
visits. Her health, indeed, required that she should delegate to some
one of her married daughters the semi-official duties of her position.
For the greater part of the time, her own married daughters, Mrs.
Jones[18] and Mrs. Semple, were compelled by their domestic duties, in
the line of the private affairs and personal interests of their
husbands, to remain at their respective residences in Virginia, but
frequently coming to Washington, for brief periods, it is true, through
solicitude for her health and to bestow their affection upon her; and as
regards her two remaining daughters, Elizabeth, afterwards Mrs. Waller,
was just grown up to womanhood, and was not yet married; and Alice,
afterward Mrs. Henry M. Denison,[19] was still but a child. However it
fortunately so happened that her oldest son and his wife had not
permanently located themselves in life since their recent marriage, and
it was considered best they should continue in the family. Sometimes, on
the temporary visits of Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Semple, all her married
daughters would appear together in the Reception-rooms; but under the
circumstances, the constant task of representing her mother, in respect
to the honors of the establishment, was delegated, with the consent of
the President, to Mrs. Robert Tyler,[20] a lady of admirable culture and
address, to whom she was, as well as the rest of the family, devotedly
attached as to her own daughter. One of the few occasions on which she
assented to appear personally in the public Reception-rooms, before a
large and distinguished assemblage of men and women associated with the
world of fashion and that of politics and diplomacy, was that of the
marriage of her daughter Elizabeth, and is thus portrayed by Mrs. Robert
Tyler shortly afterward, in a letter addressed to her relatives near
Philadelphia:
Footnote 18:
Mary, the first child and oldest daughter of Mrs. Letitia Tyler, in
her features bore a marked but refined and delicate likeness to her
father, and strikingly blended in her character the admirable
attributes of both father and mother. She was a lady of the most
exalted worth and lovely mould. She married, at an early age, Mr.
Henry Lightfoot Jones, of Charles City county, Virginia, and died
after her mother, leaving an infant daughter that soon followed her
spirit, and three sons, two of whom only survive, Henry and Robert,
who fought in the ranks in Lee’s army, both being mentioned in orders,
and the latter of whom, born in the “White House,” was promoted for a
feat of daring gallantry and three wounds received at Gettysburg, to a
first-lieutenancy.
Footnote 19:
Alice, fourth and last daughter of Mrs. Letitia Tyler, resembled her
mother in features more than any other child. She married, years after
her mother’s death, the Rev. Henry M. Denison, of Wyoming,
Pennsylvania, a clergyman of marked ability, eloquence, and
conscientiousness, of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and Rector, at
the time, of old Bruton Parish Church, at Williamsburg, Virginia. She
died while he was assistant to the Bishop of Kentucky, at Louisville,
and he died while Rector at Charleston, South Carolina, a victim to
his high sense of duty to his congregation during the prevalence of
the yellow fever in that city before the war. They left an infant
daughter named Elizabeth, who has been reared and educated by her
aunt, Mrs. Letitia Tyler Semple.
Footnote 20:
Mrs. Robert Tyler, wife of the second child and oldest son of Mrs.
Letitia Tyler, is the daughter of Thomas Abthorpe Cooper, the
distinguished tragedian, an English gentleman, ward and nephew of
Goodwin, the political economist, pupil of Holcroft, and friend and
relative of Shelley, the poet. Her mother was the daughter of Major
Fairlee, of New York, an officer of the Revolutionary war of
Independence, and of the Governor Yates and Vanness family. Her eldest
daughter, named after her grandmother, Letitia Christian, was born in
the White House.
“WASHINGTON, _February, 1842_.
* * * “Lizzie[21] has had quite a grand wedding, although the intention
was that it should be quiet and private. This, under the circumstances,
though, was found impossible. The guests consisted of Mrs. Madison, the
members of the cabinet, with their wives and daughters, the foreign
ministers near the government, and some few personal friends, outside of
the family and their relatives.
Footnote 21:
Elizabeth, third daughter of Mrs. Letitia Tyler, was married to Mr.
William Waller, of Williamsburg, Virginia, in the East Room of the
President’s Mansion, at Washington, on the thirty-first day of
January, 1842, in the nineteenth year of her age. In character she
greatly resembled her mother, and showed much of her early beauty and
grace. Her oldest son, named William, resigned from the West Point
military school and married during the recent war between the States
the youngest sister of the wife of President Davis, in the Executive
Mansion of the Confederate States, at Richmond. And her second son,
John, though a mere lad, was killed during the war, “fighting for his
mother’s grave,” to use his own words. Another son, Robert, and a
daughter, Mary, had been born to her before she died. Her children,
through their great-grandfather, the first Secretary of the American
Colonial Congress, and their great-grandmother, his wife, the sister
of the Earl of Traquaire, and whose grandson is the present titular
Earl, bear in their veins, probably, the nearest living blood to that
of Queen Mary Stuart, of Scotland, whose name her daughter bears.
“Lizzie looked surpassingly lovely in her wedding dress and long blonde
lace-veil; her face literally covered with blushes and dimples. She
behaved remarkably well, too; any quantity of compliments were paid to
her. I heard one of her bridesmaids express to Mr. Webster her surprise
at Lizzie consenting to give up her belle-ship, with all the delights of
Washington society, and the advantages of her position, and retire to a
quiet Virginia home. ‘Ah,’ said he,
‘Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
And love is heaven, and heaven is love.’
* * * * *
“Our dear mother was down-stairs on this occasion for the first time, in
so large a circle, since she has been in Washington. She gained by
comparison with all the fine ladies around her. I felt proud of her, in
her perfectly faultless, yet unostentatious dress, her face shaded by
the soft fine lace of her cap, receiving in her sweet, gentle,
self-possessed manner, all the important people who were led up and
presented to her. She was far more attractive to me in her appearance
and bearing than any other lady in the room, and I believe such was the
general impression. Somebody says, ‘the highest order of manner is that
which combines dignity with simplicity;’ and this just describes
mother’s manner, the charm of which, after all, proceeds from her entire
forgetfulness of self, and the wish to make those around her happy.”
* * * * *
Major Tyler, who was for more than three years “Major Domo” of the
establishment, and to the last private secretary, says, regarding the
modes and inmates of the President’s house during this time:
“My mother’s health was entirely too delicate to permit her to charge
herself with the semi-official social requirements of the mansion, and
my married sisters being unavoidably absent for the most of the time,
the task devolved upon Mrs. Robert Tyler to represent my mother on
stated occasions. She continued in the rôle of honors, as they are
termed, until after my mother’s death, and my brother made his
arrangements to practise law in Philadelphia, by which time it also
happened that Mr. Semple’s affairs became differently accommodated, and
he proceeded to sea as a Purser in the United States Navy, when my
sister Letitia[22] became at liberty to take up her abode in Washington.
Accordingly, both the President and myself now addressed to her letters,
inviting her to assume the position and duties of hostess of the White
House, which she consented to do, and so acted until May, 1844.
Footnote 22:
Letitia, the second and only surviving daughter and fourth child of
Mrs. Letitia Tyler, married in early life the nephew and adopted son
of Judge Semple, of Williamsburg, Virginia, who reared and educated
him to manhood, his own father, a brother of the Judge, as well as his
mother, dying in his infancy, leaving him by will a handsome fortune.
The Semples are of the family of the Earls Dundonald, of Scotland, and
of the same branch with that of the celebrated Blair, appointed by
King James the first commissioner of Virginia, and who was afterward
President of William and Mary College.
“During my mother’s life, and up to this date, always contemning
pretension and worldly vanity, we lived in the ‘White House’ as we lived
at home, save that we were obliged to have rather more company, less
select as to true worth than was altogether agreeable. In the course of
the ‘fashionable season,’ and while the sessions of the Congress lasted,
we gave two dinner parties each week, very much after the plain,
substantial Virginia manner and style, to the first of which, usually
confined to gentlemen from different parts of the country visiting
Washington, and who had shown respectful attention to the President and
family, twenty guests were always invited; and to the second, usually
embracing both ladies and gentlemen from among the dignitaries of the
different departments of the Federal and State governments, and the
diplomatic corps of foreign governments, forty persons were invited,
making in either case quite a full table.
“Our drawing-rooms, as at home, were open every evening informally until
10 o’clock—never later—when the family rose and retired, and doors were
closed. Before my mother’s death, we gave occasionally during the winter
months, by special invitations, in the general reception-rooms, a
private ball, attended with dancing, but terminating at 11 o’clock. In
addition to these private entertainments and strictly social converse,
we introduced at this period—for the first time it had been done—music
on the grounds of the south front of the Mansion, on the Saturday
evenings of each week during the mild weather of the spring, summer, and
fall, for the recreation of the public at large; and to a similar end a
public levee was held once a month, in addition to the general
receptions on the first day of January and the Fourth of July, of each
year.
“Nothing whatever preceded by cards of invitation was permitted to be
considered in any other light than as a private affair of the
Presidential family, with which the world outside and the public press
had nothing whatever to do, just precisely as if we had been in our own
house in Williamsburg. Even in respect to the public receptions
mentioned, the _Madisonian_ was never suffered to indulge in a
description either of the persons or characters present, in an
individualizing manner, after modern usages, and no encouragement was
given to any one so to do. I send you a specimen of the only sort of
notice, even in the latter case, that was regarded as at all admissible
while my mother lived. Anything more particular would have shocked her
delicate sense of propriety, and been absolutely offensive to the
President.
“_From the Madisonian, Washington, Monday, March 17th, 1842._
“THE LAST LEVEE OF THE SEASON.
“The levee held by the President on Tuesday evening last was a brilliant
affair, and gave satisfactory evidence of the esteem in which that high
functionary is held in social circles.
“Among the visitors of peculiar note were the distinguished authors of
the ‘Sketch-Book,’ and of the ‘Pickwick Papers,’ in addition to whom
almost all the Ministers of Foreign Powers to our Government were in
attendance in full court dress.
“The rooms were filled to overflowing with the talent and beauty of the
metropolis, whilst Senators and Members of Congress, without distinction
of party, served to give interest and to add animation to the scene. It
seems to us that these levees, as at present conducted, are peculiarly
adapted to the genius of our Republican institutions, inasmuch as all
who please may attend without infringement of etiquette. We almost
regret their termination for the season, but look forward with pleasure
to the period when they will be renewed.”
“I may say that this notice, as restrained as it is, bears internal
evidence showing that it would not have been made but for the necessity
of informing the public in some indirect manner of the termination of
the public receptions for a season. I find none other. In another
column, and in quite a different connection, the _Madisonian_ says: ‘The
Richmond _Whig_ admits, and we heartily concur in the sentiment, that
Mr. Tyler, in his appointment of Washington Irving, the author of the
‘Sketch-Book,’ as minister to Spain, has paid a just tribute to the most
distinguished ornament of American letters.’ Scarcely any notice appears
of the marriage of my sister Elizabeth in the preceding January, that
being regarded as a purely family matter.”
No perceptible change in Mrs. Tyler’s condition of health occurred until
Friday, the 9th day of September, 1842. On the morning of that day, her
family physician detected a change unhappily for the worse, and a
threatened renewal of paralysis. He instantly called in consultation
others of the faculty, and everything devised by the skill of the
profession to ward off the fatal stroke was promptly applied. But all in
vain. On the evening of the next day, Saturday, September the 10th, at
eight o’clock, the hour came for her to be joined to her fathers. A
pious communicant of the Church of Christ, innocent in soul as a little
child, crowned with the virtues which had marked her useful and
unselfish life, fearing and loving God, reverencing her husband, adoring
and adored by her children—she passed into the heavenly kingdom
palpitating with the immortal joys of a spirit released from every
earthly pain and sorrow. On Sunday, the Executive Mansion stood arrayed
in mourning, and the tolling of the bells of the city announced the sad
visitation to those among the living. Every honor that the sincerest
respect and the purest love and the sense of a bitter bereavement could
suggest, was paid to her remains. A committee of the citizens of
Washington conveyed her body, after it had laid in state in the East
Room for several days, to the family burial-ground at the old paternal
residence in New Kent county, and there, in the midst of a sorrowing
assemblage of relatives and friends and neighbors who had known her from
birth, the parting tears of her husband and her children, gushing up
from the fountain of their hearts, were shed upon her coffin ere it was
deposited in the earth, where reposed already the dust of her parents
and of others she had loved, and who fondly loved her.
Thus lived and died Mrs. Letitia Tyler, wife of the last of the Virginia
Presidents of the United States, a model of the exalted civilization of
the “ancient commonwealth and dominion,” a representative of her sex
worthy of their grateful memory, and an honor to the human family.
XIV.
JULIA GARDINER TYLER.
President John Tyler was married to Miss Julia Gardiner the 26th day of
June, 1844, at the Church of the Ascension, New York city. Immediately
after the wedding, the bridal party returned to the White House, where
they held a grand reception in lieu of the usual wedding festivities. It
was the first, and up to the present time, the only instance of the
marriage of a President, and the affair created great excitement and
interest throughout the United States, heightened doubtless by the
recollection of the tragic death of the father of the bride, a few
months previous.
Miss Gardiner was the daughter of a wealthy gentleman residing on
Gardiner’s Island, and the eldest of three children. Her education,
continued at home until her sixteenth year, was completed at the Chegary
Institute, in New York city. Immediately after the termination of her
school life, she accompanied her father to Europe. Returning from abroad
after an extended tour, she visited, during the sitting of Congress, the
National Capital, and there for the first time met the distinguished man
to whom she was afterward married.
It was while on a visit to Washington in the winter of 1844, that Mr.
Gardiner and his young daughter were invited by Captain Stockton to
accompany a large party of the President’s friends to Alexandria, and on
the return trip, when just opposite to the fort, all the gentlemen were
invited on deck to witness the firing of the “peacemaker.” Many of the
party, who were all partaking of a collation, responded to the
invitation; among the number the father of Miss Gardiner. The explosion
startled the President, who with the ladies had remained below, and in a
moment the piercing cries of the wounded filled the hearts of the
passengers with terror. Death had made fearful havoc, and the living
waited in breathless anxiety for the announcement of the names of the
victims.
The bodies were conveyed to the White House, where the funeral services
were preached, and the last sad rites performed.
The following summer Miss Gardiner was married, and from that time until
the close of her husband’s administration, a period of eight months, she
did the honors of the Executive Mansion, performing her agreeable task
with credit to herself and pleasure to her friends.
After President Tyler’s retirement from public life, he removed to his
home in Virginia, where he continued to reside until his death, which
occurred in Richmond, the 17th of January, 1862.
Of late years Mrs. Tyler has suffered pecuniary losses, and in the
winter of 1879 she petitioned and received from Congress a pension. She
has resided for the past few years in Washington City, and at present
(1881) is living in Georgetown. A devoted Catholic, she finds it
pleasant to be a resident of that retired and peaceful place, near to
Washington, and yet not in it.
XV.
SARAH CHILDRESS POLK.
Sarah Childress, the daughter of Captain Joel and Elizabeth Childress,
was born near Murfreesboro, in Rutherford county, Tennessee, the 4th day
of September, 1803. In that beautiful portion of the South, almost a
wilderness then, passed the younger years of her life, and there is
little to record of it save its contentment and tranquil happiness. Her
father, a farmer in easy circumstances, and considered rich for those
days, allowed his children every benefit to be derived from his
fortunate circumstances, and she was early placed at school. The
Moravian Institute at Salem, North Carolina, was chosen by Mr. Childress
as the most suitable place for his little daughter, and she was placed
in that strict and most thorough establishment. There she attained
discipline and culture, and her school days with their varying shadows
and sunshine passed quietly away. There was nothing to mar the influence
of those happy school days, and each as it came, did its appointed duty
in moulding her character. The April life fleeted by, clouds and
sunshine, little griefs and joys, the studious hour, the frank
companionship of girlhood, the animating walk, hand in hand with young
friends and with nature, soon rolled away, and Sarah Childress returned
home. Surrounded in her father’s house by all the comforts possible to
obtain in that State in those days, and possessing a hopeful temperament
and sunny heart, adorned with all the accomplishments that the attention
of parents and teachers could bestow, she was a bright ornament in her
home, and a pleasure to her friends and society.
[Illustration:
MRS. JAMES K. POLK.
]
At the early age of nineteen she was married to James Knox Polk, in
Murfreesboro. The wedding was a festival of rejoicing, at which many
friends of the bride and groom assisted, and was characterized by the
abundance and merriment customary at that day.
Mr. Polk had recently entered public life, and was then a member of the
Legislature of Tennessee. In the following year he was elected to
Congress from the district, at that time composed of the counties of
Giles, Maury, Lincoln, and Bedford. During fourteen sessions he
continued the representative of that district. After having served on
the most important committees in the House, he was, in 1836, elected
Speaker of the House of Representatives, a position for which his
studious and industrious habits, together with his constantly increasing
popularity, peculiarly fitted him.
Mrs. Polk did not fail to accompany her husband to Washington every
winter except in a single instance. She occupied there a conspicuous
place in society, and by her polite manners and sound judgment made her
companionship pleasant and inspiriting, not only to Mr. Polk, but to the
friends by whom he was surrounded. Mrs. Polk was a highly cultivated
without being a literary woman. Being interested in all that related to
her husband, she took pains to inform herself fully in political
affairs, and read all the news and discussions of the day relating to
the well-being of the country, subjects which to most ladies of that day
proved wearisome and hard to understand. Living in the atmosphere of
politicians and surrounded by public men, she however avoided the
maelstrom upon which ladies are often stranded, and never discussed a
subject in relation to which her sex were expected to be entirely
ignorant. Women were then as now, supposed to be too weak to understand
the mighty problem of Government, and they evidenced their acquiescence
in such a supposition by remaining entirely unacquainted with the
politics of the country. Not so Mrs. Polk, who however was no
politician, for her visitors were not aware of the depth of her
understanding, nor were they offended by the recurrence to a subject
deemed out of her sphere. There was an intuitive feeling in her heart of
what was due to her delicacy, and she was wise enough to be consistent
and appropriate in all her actions. Yet her mind was strengthened by
careful reading and intimate intercourse with many of the finest minds
in the country.
Mr. Polk’s residence was at Columbia, Tennessee, where the intervals
between the sessions of Congress were spent among his relatives. In the
year 1834, Mrs. Polk joined the Presbyterian Church of that place. Since
that time her character has been entirely a Christian one. Faithful and
devout, consistent in her conduct to every rule and requirement of her
sect, she has exemplified in her life the punctual observance of a vow
to serve her God through the acknowledged tenets of the Presbyterian
faith.
On the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Polk from Washington, in 1839, Mrs.
Polk received the graceful compliment of a copy of verses addressed to
her by the eminent jurist, Hon. Joseph D. Story.
In the same year Mr. Polk was made the Governor of Tennessee, and
removed his residence to Nashville, in order to fulfil the duties of his
new position. Mrs. Polk, always amiable and animated by the truest
fidelity to her husband’s interests, exerted a wide influence in the new
circle into which her life had been cast. By the winning gentleness
which ever accompanied her fine social qualities, she attracted even
those members of the Legislature who were among the opponents of Mr.
Polk. And this is saying a great deal when it is remembered that the
political campaign of 1840 was the most fierce and exciting one in the
history of the country. It is known as the “hard cider and log-cabin
campaign.” Political rancor and animosity prevailed to an unprecedented
degree. But the lady-like affability, and high and exalted virtues of
Mrs. Polk, won universal admiration from friend and foe alike. She lived
above the warring elements that surrounded her. The calm and charming
bearing of the Governor’s wife was a source of constant praise.
From the sister States of Tennessee and Kentucky came the opposing
Presidential candidates in 1844. Henry Clay, the idol of the Whig party,
and the most popular public man in the Commonwealth, against the
champion of Democracy, James K. Polk.
The election was keenly contested, and the result most damaging to the
Whig party. March 4, 1845, Mr. Polk was inaugurated. The day was very
disagreeable, rain and mud rendering much of a display out of the
question. He was accompanied from the Capitol to the White House by the
retiring President, who there took a kindly leave, wishing him
prosperity and happiness in his new and exalted position. Mrs. Polk
immediately assumed the agreeable duties of the lady of the White House,
and having no children to occupy her time, she devoted herself entirely
to the pleasures of her new station. She held weekly receptions, and it
was customary for her to receive her company sitting. The extreme
formality required now was not practised then. The crowds that attend
the few levees held by the President’s family render everything like
sociability out of the question. Farther and farther from the old
landmarks we are drifting. In Mrs. Washington’s day the company were
seated, and herself and the President passed among the company. Later in
the history of the Chief Magistrates, President Adams dispensed cake and
wine to the guests, and General Jackson cheese. As the throng grew more
numerous, Mrs. Polk did away with refreshments, and now policemen are
stationed in the Mansion during receptions to keep the crowds from
crushing the President and family, who are compelled to stand and shake
hands the entire evening. Verily we are a progressive people.
The reputation which Mrs. Polk had acquired was nobly sustained, even
when subjected, as one might say, to the gaze of the whole world. Every
circumstance, whether of embarrassment, perplexity or trial, added to
the undiminished lustre of her name. She maintained the dignity of the
President’s Mansion, which, in this country of republican freedom and
simplicity, was often in danger of being lowered. Her parents were of
the old school, high-toned in manners and principles, and she had
imbibed from them what may be called the aristocracy of virtue; an idea
that, whatever the mass of society might consider themselves at liberty
to do, it was indispensably due to her station to preserve inviolate the
strict laws of decorum and of the purest principles. Hence it will not
be surprising that during her occupancy of the White House the practice
which had formerly obtained, of dancing there, was discontinued; a
practice which was evidently out of all harmony with the place, and more
suitable anywhere else.
The return of Mrs. Polk to Washington was anticipated by her friends
with the liveliest gratification. She was considered, by those who knew
her, remarkably fitted to fill and adorn the high seat to which she was
bidden. The following extracts will show the feeling which was rife. The
_Tennessee Democrat_ said:
“We have recently noticed in our exchange papers, of both political
parties, the most respectful and flattering compliments paid to the
amiable and accomplished lady who is shortly to take charge of the White
House. We cannot refrain from copying the following complimentary
tribute to Mrs. Polk, which is taken from the _Southern_ (Miss.)
_Reformer_, and we are sure that in this community, where Mrs. Polk is
best known, the compliment will be duly appreciated.”—
“‘This lady is one of the most sensible, refined and accomplished of her
sex, and will adorn the White House at Washington, over which she is
destined to preside, with distinguished honor to her country. All who
have mingled in her society know well how to appreciate the gracefulness
of her disposition. We have seen few women that have developed more of
the genuine republican characteristics of the American lady. She has had
her admirers not only in the highest, but in the humblest walks of life.
The poor know her for her benevolence; the rich for the plainness of her
equipage; the church for her consistency; the unfortunate for her
charities; and society itself for the veneration and respect which her
virtues have everywhere awarded her. We feel proud that the southwest
can boast of such a noble offspring.’”
“WASHINGTON CITY, _February 24, 1845_.
“MY DEAR SIR:—The advent of our President-elect has concentrated
everything to and about him. The prudence that he observed before he
reached here in reference to the formation of his Cabinet still exists.
He keeps his own counsels, and no tie of personal or political
friendship, as far as we can learn, has been enabled to get from him a
glimpse of the future. It is generally believed here that Mr. Polk will
be influenced by no ultra party considerations; that he will look to the
great interests of the country as a whole, and study, with the
incentives of a statesman and a patriot, so to administer the
government. Should he prescribe to himself this policy, those who know
him best know that he has firmness of purpose commensurate to its
fulfilment.
“Whatever the diversities of opinion that divide politicians, and
whatever the asperities of feeling engendered by the conflicts to which
they lead, they seem, by common consent, to be surrendered upon the
altar that is reared in every chivalrous heart, to the meed most justly
due to elegance and excellence of female character, in the person of the
lady of the President-elect.
“All approach her with the tribute that is due to her exalted station,
and all leave her with the pleasing impression that the refinement and
blandishments of her manners, the gentleness of her disposition, and
unostentatious bearing, fit her eminently for the place and part she is
to occupy for the next four years. At home and abroad, the influence of
her character will do honor to our country. These are the impressions of
your friend.”
“Not long since, in the _Nashville Union_, appeared a communication in
which the writer very justly applauds the lady of the President of the
United States in consequence of her dignified and exemplary deportment
since her occupancy of the Presidential Mansion. Among other remarks,
the following occur: ‘She is a consistent member of the Presbyterian
Church, and therefore has abolished dancing and other light amusements
in her house.’ Assuredly nothing more effectually commends the religion
of the Bible than the holy and consistent conduct of those who profess
to be governed by its precepts.
“A professor of religion, doubtless Mrs. Polk deeply realized the
responsibility of her position. Exposed to the temptations of
fashionable life in their most alluring forms, it required no trivial
amount of gracious influence to enable her to abjure the maxims and
customs of an ungodly world. The friends of religion anxiously looked
forward in regard to the course she might think proper to adopt in that
respect, and thanks to Providence and her own pious heart, their hopes
and expectations have not been disappointed. By her consistent and
exemplary conduct she has secured the gratitude and respect of the
friends of religion of every name, yea, of all whose good opinion is
most worth enjoying; while, in the meantime, the friends and advocates
of the rejected pastimes, _nolens volens_, will even on that account
feel constrained to accord to her the homage of their augmented respect.
“The example of Mrs. Polk can hardly fail of exerting, in various
respects, a salutary influence. Especially does it rebuke the conduct of
those ladies who, professing godliness, nevertheless dishonor its
profession by their eager participation in the follies and amusements of
the world. However politicians may differ in regard to the merits of Mr.
Polk’s administration, there can be no difference as respects that of
his lady, in her department of the Presidential Mansion. All will agree
that by the exclusion of the frivolities spoken of, and her excellent
deportment in other respects, she has conferred additional dignity upon
the executive department of our government, and may well be considered a
model worthy of imitation by the ladies who may hereafter occupy the
elevated position from which she is about to retire. This excellent
lady, ere long, it is presumed, will return to the society of kindred
and friends, among whom, it is sincerely hoped, she may long live to
receive and confer happiness upon all around, and as hitherto, continue
to be an ornament to the religion and church her example has so signally
honored.”
In her elevated and conspicuous situation, the stateliness of Mrs.
Polk’s bearing was strikingly becoming and appropriate. With this an
English lady was impressed, who averred that not one of the three queens
whom she had seen could compare with the truly feminine yet
distinguished and regal presence of Mrs. Polk. She says: “Mrs. Polk is a
very handsome woman. Her hair is very black, and her dark eye and
complexion remind one of the Spanish donnas. She is well read, has much
talent for conversation, and is highly popular. Her excellent taste in
dress preserves the subdued though elegant costume which characterizes
the lady.”
The same feeling of admiration seemed to inspire the graceful writer,
Mrs. Ann S. Stephens, in the following tribute:
“Lady, had I the wealth of earth
To offer freely at thy shrine,
Bright gold and buds of dewy birth,
Or gems from out the teeming mine,
A thousand things most beautiful,
All sparkling, precious, rich and rare,
These hands would render up to thee,
Thou noble lady, good and fair!
“For as I write, sweet thoughts arise
Of times when all thy kindness lent
A thousand hues of Paradise
To the fleet moments as they went;
Then all thy thoughts were winged with light,
And every smile was calm and sweet,
And thy low tones and gentle words
Made the warm heart’s blood thrill and beat.
“There, standing in our nation’s home,
My memory ever pictures thee
As some bright dame of ancient Rome,
Modest, yet all a queen should be;
I love to keep thee in my mind,
Thus mated with the pure of old,
When love, with lofty deeds combined,
Made women great and warriors bold.
“When first I saw thee standing there,
And felt the pressure of thy hand,
I scarcely thought if thou wert fair,
Or of the highest in the land;
I knew thee gentle, pure as great,
All that was lovely, meek and good;
And so I half forgot thy state
In love of thy bright womanhood.
“And many a sweet sensation came,
That lingers in my bosom yet,
Like that celestial, holy flame
That vestals tremble to forget.
And on the earth or in the sky,
There’s not a thought more true and free,
Than that which beats within my heart,
In pleasant memory of thee.
“Lady, I gladly would have brought
Some gem that on thy heart may live,
But this poor wreath of woven thought
Is all the wealth I have to give.
All wet with heart-dew, flush with love,
I lay the garland at thy feet,
Praying the angel-forms above,
To weave thee one more pure and sweet.”
The receptions of the President were always largely attended, and were
made agreeable to everybody by the spirit of liveliness as well as of
courtesy that prevailed. A visitor says: “Last evening I had an
opportunity of seeing the members of the royal family, together with
some choice specimens of the Democracy, in the ‘circle-room’ of the
White House. It was reception night, and the latch-string, in the shape
of a handsome negro, was ‘outside the door.’ On entering, I found the
room full. Mr. Polk is so affable as to prevent one from feeling any awe
that he is in direct communication with the concentrated majesty of the
whole United States and Territories.
“The wife of the President was seated on the sofa, engaged with half a
dozen ladies in lively conversation. Ill and clumsy as I am at
millinery, yet for the sake of my fair readers, I will try to describe
her toilet. A maroon colored velvet dress, with short sleeves and high
in the neck, trimmed with very deep lace, and a handsome pink head-dress
was all that struck the eye of the general observer. Mr. Willis would,
no doubt, have noticed many other little accompaniments, interesting to
ladies, but I never could indulge in any such familiarity. Who would
think of plucking at an angel’s wing in order to give an analysis of its
fibre? Mrs. Polk is a handsome, intelligent and sensible woman, better
looking and better dressed than any of her numerous lady visitors
present on the occasion.
“Among the guests of distinction were the Hon. Cave Johnson,
Postmaster-General, who bears a strong resemblance about the head to Mr.
Greeley, of the _Tribune_; Mr. Vinton, of Ohio, Commodore De Kay, Mr.
Rockwell, of Connecticut, and a Wall Street financier, who can draw a
larger draft on London than any other man in the country. There were two
or three pairs of epaulettes; a couple of pretty deaf and dumb girls,
who only talked with their fingers; and scores of others who talked with
their eyes, while a whole regiment of the ‘raw material’ of the
Democracy in frock coats, stood as straight as grenadiers around the
outer circle of the room, gazing in silent astonishment at the President
and the chandeliers.”
On one of the reception nights a distinguished gentleman from South
Carolina remarked in a loud tone of voice to Mrs. Polk, “Madam, there is
a woe pronounced against you in the Bible.” Every one ceased conversing
for a moment, when Mrs. Polk inquired what he meant. “Well, the Bible
says, ‘Woe unto you when all men shall speak well of you.’” A general
laugh followed, and the remark was considered very appropriate.
During President Polk’s administration, the war with Mexico was
inaugurated by a difficulty about the boundary line of Texas. The
country is acquainted with the brilliant successes of the American
troops in Mexico, and of General Scott’s glorious successes, whereby he
reached and revelled in the halls of the Montezumas. The war ended in
1848, the year before Mr. Polk’s retirement. President Polk’s easy,
courteous manners, went far toward allaying the opposition which is ever
apparent in times of national trouble, and the affable manners of Mrs.
Polk rendered his efforts the more successful. With the exception of the
summer of 1847, spent in Tennessee, Mrs. Polk remained uninterruptedly
at the White House; the visits of members of her family cheering the
otherwise monotonous routine of her life there.
A gentleman who called at the White House one evening in the fall of
1846, writes in the following terms of his visit: “We were met by Mr.
Walker, the Private Secretary, with much politeness, the President being
absent, and were received by Mrs. Polk in the kindest, and at the same
time most graceful, manner. It may be said with truth, she is a lady of
commanding dignity at all times; and her conversation, generally of the
most agreeable character, is always happily directed. In my judgment, at
no period in our history have we seen the hospitalities and ceremonies
of the White House more handsomely dispensed, or displayed with greater
republican simplicity than at the present time. If my observation be
correct, no invidious or improper distinction seems to be made in the
circle of visitors. There is no imposing movement or extra formality
exhibited when a Secretary or some other high officer of Government
presents himself. The quiet and unheralded citizen receives a polite and
cordial salutation, as well as the haughty millionnaire, or some proud
minister of state. And this is precisely as it should be, a just and
beautiful commentary, alike upon our noble institutions, and the
charming social qualities of the President and his family.
“I was struck not only with the easy and fascinating manners of Mrs.
Polk, but equally with her patriotic sentiments and feelings. A gallant
Lieutenant just from the bloody but glorious conflict at Monterey, was
there also; and as Mrs. Polk gracefully carried back his thoughts to the
distant field of his early fame, he caught the inspiration at once, and
dwelt briefly for her entertainment upon some of the thrilling incidents
of those scenes. In the course of this animated conversation to which I
was a favored listener, the modest young officer remarked, in a playful
manner, that something which I do not now recollect was rather too
democratic; to which Mrs. Polk replied, that ‘whatever sustained the
honor, and advanced the interests of the country, whether regarded as
democratic or not, she admired and applauded.’ The sentiment was a truly
noble one.”
A correspondent of the New York _Journal of Commerce_ has also given to
the public a sketch of a visit to the Presidential Mansion, which is
interesting. “These the musings were soon interrupted by the entrance of
Mrs. Polk who, with an easy smile and a graceful simplicity of manner,
bid me welcome as an American citizen, and partaker of a common faith.
She bears her honors meekly, and surely it is no mean elevation to be
the wife of an American President; an elevation to which many fond and
ambitious aspirations are doubtless secretly cherished in the bosoms of
high-minded American women, but which only one, now and then, can enjoy.
And this one, probably, was among the last to expect it, till the news
came to disturb the quietude of her happy domestic life in Tennessee.
“Mrs. Polk may be considered a felicitous specimen of the intelligent,
refined American lady, who, without artificial airs, without any
assumption of stateliness of manners, without any ambitious ornaments of
dress, exchanges the courtesies of social life, and demeans herself in
public, with a sincerity somewhat rare in the current circles of
fashion.
“I cannot but think that the basis of her style of character is laid in
a true and unaffected piety. She is regular in her attendance on divine
worship and on the communion of the Lord’s supper. In our conversation,
she expressed her great delight, among similar things, in having
recently witnessed and welcomed the admission of three or four
interesting youths to the communion of the Presbyterian Church, of which
she is a member. Unlike some of her predecessors, Mrs. Polk has no taste
for the gay amusements of the lovers of pleasure.”
In the early fall of 1847, the illness of Mrs. Polk threw a cloud of
sorrow and apprehension over many hearts; but it was only a cloud, and
the recovery of this beloved and honored lady was hailed with delight
and thanksgiving. Some one writing to the Baltimore _Sun_ says: “This
fall we have a peculiar sorrow, in the dangerous illness of the honored
lady of President Polk. She came among us almost a stranger, respected
on account of her station, but unknown to most of us; she is now the
pride of society, as well as the object of our tender affection. The
social circles of Washington gratefully acknowledge the happiness she
has diffused through them; the needy and suffering bless God for such a
friend. All admire her character, all revere her virtues, and all with
one consent join in supplicating the Father of mercies to spare her
long, very long to her distinguished husband and the friends to whom she
is so dear.”
A few days before the close of his administration, a splendid dinner
party was given by the President to General Taylor. At the levee, the
same evening, a great concourse of persons—acquaintances, admirers, and
friends—assembled to pay their last respects and take their last adieu
of the President and his wife.
On Sunday afternoon, in the first Presbyterian Church, Mrs. Polk
participated for the last time in the solemn services of the communion.
The Rev. Mr. Ballentyne addressed the distinguished lady in a most
appropriate manner; and on the conclusion of the ceremonies, the pastor
and a large number of the communicants approached and bade her an
affectionate farewell.
The following morceau appears in the Washington _Union_: