first home of her married life, taking no part in the social world
whose magnet she had been for so many seasons. But she was not
forgotten; and when she again, after four years of seclusion, resumed
her place in its midst, her reappearance brought up innumerable
memories of her earlier days, of her conquest of the "Little Giant,"
and of her queenly part in his political campaigns.
She was the guest of honor at a dinner given in the early winter of
1865, just as the war drew to its close, by Miss Harris, whose name
lives in history in a very different connection: she was sitting
beside Lincoln in his box at the theatre on the night he was shot.
Among the guests bidden to meet Mrs. Douglas was Captain, afterwards
General, Robert Williams, one of the handsomest and most gallant
officers of the army, and a member of a well-established family of
Culpeper County, Virginia. Mrs. Douglas was already known to him
by fame, and suspecting her to be possessed of all the caprices of
a spoiled beauty, he had no desire whatever to meet her, though he
accepted Miss Harris's invitation for the sake of the pleasure he would
otherwise derive from her hospitality. After he had been presented
to Mrs. Douglas, however, whatever enjoyment he had anticipated from
meeting others there passed from his mind. Combined with a gentle
dignity, there was about her all the sweet simplicity of a young girl,
and nothing that ever so remotely suggested any consciousness of a
fame that was as wide as her country. He followed her with all the
earnestness with which he had meant to avoid her, and in January, 1866,
she again became a bride.
The chronicle of the most magnificent ball ever given, not only in
Washington, but probably in the country, and which occurred shortly
after her marriage to General Williams, hands her name and that of
Kate Chase Sprague down to fame as the two most beautiful women who
participated in the brilliant event. It was given by the French
minister, Count de Moutholon, by order of his Emperor, in honor of the
officers of the French fleet then anchored at Annapolis.
She gradually, however, abdicated her social queenship for a crown she
wore with no less grace, that of a most noble motherhood.
Wedded to an army man, her life led her from post to post, and the
greater part of her days from that time was spent in the West.
The little life of the only child of her first marriage covered but a
few months. The six children of her second marriage, however, are all
living and grown to manhood and womanhood, two of her sons being in the
military service of their country.
The last few years of her life were passed in Washington, where her
husband held the office of Adjutant-General until his retirement from
the service. There her eldest daughter was married, in January, 1899,
to Lieutenant John Bryson Patton, and there also, on the 26th of the
same month, her own life terminated. Time had touched her lightly, as
if he would not rob her of a loveliness that had been as much a charm
to women as to men. Asked once the secret of her youthful appearance,
she blushed like a girl and confessed that she was happy, and that
therein must lie the solution.
It is difficult to analyze the qualities of that power of fascination
which some women have exercised over the world. They are as varied as
the individuality of the women to whom they have been intrusted. In
Adèle Cutts, however, they seem to have emanated from a singular beauty
of soul, a species of primal innocence that proclaimed itself at once
to the sense of every beholder and preserved her alike from any touch
of vanity or worldliness.
To those who knew her she seemed little changed as the years rolled
on, because to her classic beauty of form was added an indestructible
quality which was a beauty of the spirit.
EMILIE SCHAUMBURG
(MRS. HUGHES-HALLETT)
Every Philadelphia girl who has hoped to be a belle during this last
quarter of the century, and even many who have been without social
aspirations, have been brought up on traditions of Emilie Schaumburg.
Yet so eminent was the place she held in the old city whose standard of
belleship had been fixed far back in the colonial days of America, that
no one has ever succeeded her.
Accustomed through long generations to women of wit, beauty, and
a certain unapproachable taste in matters of personal adornment,
Philadelphia has developed a critical instinct which is not easily
satisfied.
"The ladies of Philadelphia," wrote Miss Rebecca Franks over a century
ago, "have more cleverness in the turn of an eye than those of New York
have in their whole composition. With what ease have I seen a Chew, a
Penn, an Oswald, or an Allen, and a thousand others, entertain a large
circle of both sexes; the conversation, without the aid of cards,
never flagging nor seeming in the least strained or stupid. Here, in
New York, you enter the room with a formal set courtesy, and, after
the how-dos, things are finished; all is dead calm till the cards
are introduced, when you see pleasure dancing in the eyes of all the
matrons, and they seem to gain new life."
It is but just to state that this fair critic of New York's social
status belonged to Philadelphia, where, though her wit was rather of a
satirical turn, she was noted as a lady possessed of "every human and
divine advantage." She was the youngest of the three daughters of David
Franks, one of whom became the wife of Oliver de Lancey, another of
Andrew Hamilton, of "Woodlands," one of the famous suburban estates of
the city, while Rebecca, "high in toryism and eccentricity," after an
unusually brilliant belleship, bestowed her hand on Lieutenant-General
Sir Henry Johnston, and went to live in England.
Of the Chews referred to in her letter from New York, so sparkling was
the conversation which Harriet could maintain, that Washington, when he
was sitting for his portrait to Stuart, liked to have her in the room
that his face might wear its most agreeable expression, such as her wit
always induced. She married the son of Charles Carroll of Carrollton,
the young Charles Carroll who was at one time suspected of having a
tender interest in Nellie Custis, Washington's step-granddaughter.
Her sister Margaret, who was one of the beauties who made the great
feast of the Mischianza so famous, also married a son of Maryland,
Colonel John Eager Howard, a patriot and a hero. Passing through her
room one evening he heard her relating to her children the pathetic
story of Major André, who had been her knight in the tournament of the
Mischianza.
"Don't believe a word of it, children," he interrupted, as their young
hearts swelled with pity at her graphic and romantic recital; "he was
an infernal spy."
Ann Willing, who married William Bingham in her seventeenth year, was
another woman who helped to establish the standard of female beauty
and excellence in Philadelphia. "She is coming quite into fashion
here," John Adams's daughter wrote of her from London, "and is very
much admired. The hair-dresser who dresses us on court days inquired of
mamma whether she knew the lady so much talked of here from America,
Mrs. Bingham. He had heard of her from a lady who had seen her at Lord
Duncan's."
London society, and especially that of the court circle, was not
very favorably disposed towards Americans in the year 1786, and the
subsequent graciousness of their reception they doubtless owed largely
to the impression created by the beauty and character of such a woman
as Mrs. Bingham, who was one of the first to seek a presentation at
the court of George III. after our separation from the mother-country.
Her striking beauty of face and form, her easy deportment, that had
all the pride and grace of high breeding, the intelligence of her
countenance, and the entire affability of her attitude disarmed every
feeling of unfriendliness and converted every one, said Mrs. Adams,
into admiration.
The unfortunate Margaret Shippen, as gifted as she was beautiful,
deprived by her husband's treason before she was twenty years old of
the shelter of her home and the protection of her family, the Executive
Council of Pennsylvania bidding her to leave the State and not return
till the close of the war, and Sarah, the daughter of Benjamin Franklin
and wife of Richard Bache, and the embodiment of Republican principles,
which caused her to insist that there was "no rank in America but rank
mutton," are two noted examples of that diversity which gave flavor to
the social life of a city that has tempted the pens of both native and
foreign critics.
Philadelphia was one of the first of the Northern cities to admit
women to the pit of its theatres, and visitors from quiet Boston and
commercial New York at one time condemned its social tone as fast,
because its young men gave wine-suppers, and because it danced to the
music of a full colored orchestra, known as Johnson's Band, while other
cities were performing their more or less graceful gyrations to the
tunes furnished by one or two musicians.
The Quaker town had made a brilliant social record before many of
the cities of America had so much as laid one stone upon another. By
comparison it is old. It has its elements of newness, like all bodies
that grow and progress, but they are not readily assimilated by that
little coterie that long ago laid the foundation of its establishment
in the southeastern section of the city. It is from the predominance
of this conservative social principle in Philadelphia that people
unfamiliar with its life have derived the erroneous impression that its
general progress and development have been correspondingly deliberate.
To hold such a position as Emilie Schaumburg held in Philadelphia
implies the possession of such personal qualities and such gifts as
would be an open door to the most exclusive society of the world.
She was well born, coming of ancestry distinguished both in their
native land and in that of their adoption. Her grandfather, Colonel
Bartholomew Schaumburg, belonged to one of the oldest families in
Germany. He was a godson and ward of the Landgrave Frederick William,
with whom he was closely connected. When still quite a youth, the
Landgrave made him an aide-de-camp to Count Donop, who commanded the
Hessian subsidies furnished by Germany to England to aid her in the war
with the American colonies.
Schaumburg was sent with despatches to Donop, who, however, had been
killed before the arrival of his young aide-de-camp. Learning for the
first time of the righteousness of the American cause, he gallantly
offered his services to the commander-in-chief of the American forces.
He fought valiantly all through the war, and at its close accepted a
commission in the standing army organized by the new government. At
the Cotton Centennial held at New Orleans in 1884, his commissions
signed by Washington were exhibited and were objects of much interest.
He took part in many of the early Indian wars, and was appointed
quartermaster-general in the war of 1812.
[Illustration: Emilie Schaumburg
(Mrs. Hughes-Hallett)
From portrait by Waugh]
His home was at New Orleans. His eldest daughter, at the time of
General Lafayette's visit to that city, was one of the twelve young
girls selected on account of their beauty from its most distinguished
families to crown America's friend. She lived to an advanced age,
surviving her eleven companions of that memorable occasion and
retaining much of her beauty till the close of her life.
The site of the city of Cincinnati was indirectly chosen by Colonel
Schaumburg when he selected the spot where it later sprung up for
the establishment of a fort, which he called, in honor of his first
American friend, Fort Washington.
He was an accomplished artillerist, and under his direction was
cast the first cannon made in the United States. While stationed in
Carlisle, Pennsylvania, upon military duty, he met the lady whom he
afterwards married, and who had not long previously arrived in America,
whither she had come with her parents to trace a recent acquisition of
land.
She was a lineal descendant of the principal Indian chief, Secaneh,
of the Lenape tribe, who signed the treaty of 1683 with William Penn,
selling him the large tract of land on which Philadelphia is built.
The Princess Susahena, the daughter of Secaneh, had been married to
Thomas Holme McFarlane, a nephew of Thomas Holme, who was the first
Surveyor-General of Pennsylvania. Three years after their marriage they
sailed for Dublin, but ocean voyages in those days were trials to the
stoutest constitutions, and the poor princess died before reaching the
other side.
Her child, a daughter, lived, and it was the great-granddaughter of
this child who became the wife of Colonel Schaumburg, so that Emilie
Schaumburg is the seventh generation in lineal descent from the
aboriginal princess, and attained her remarkable social queenship on
the native heath of her royal ancestors.
Mrs. Henry D. Gilpin, who had known Colonel Schaumburg's family
intimately and had spent much time with them in their Southern
home, frequently spoke of the great beauty of Emilie Schaumburg's
grandmother, and of the resemblance Emilie bore to her. She had the
fresh Irish complexion and violet eyes, together with suggestions of
the Indian type of her ancestry in the tall, lithe figure, delicately
aquiline features, and black hair, which almost swept the ground.
They were a strikingly handsome couple, for Colonel Schaumburg was as
magnificent in appearance as he was conspicuous in courage. He was
several inches over six feet in height, and clung all his life to
powdered hair and lace ruffles, those outward signs of the aristocrat;
yet he adopted republican principles, dropped his title, and besought
his children to be satisfied with the record he should leave them of
services rendered his adopted country.
He had declined the overtures made him by his family in Germany, from
whom he had become estranged owing to the course he had pursued in
espousing the American cause. He had no desire to return and resume his
career there.
When his granddaughter, however, visited Germany she was received
with marked consideration by the Princess of Schaumburg-Lippe, who was
reigning at the time.
True to his principles, Colonel Schaumburg opposed the formation of
the Society of the Cincinnati, refusing to become a member of it, and
arguing that it had for its object the inauguration of an aristocracy,
and was in direct opposition to the very principles for which they had
fought.
His son followed in his footsteps in selecting a military career. He
was graduated from the National Military Academy in 1833, and entered
the cavalry. He was a gallant officer, generous and impetuous, and as
magnificent in physique as his father.
He lost his commission through a technicality which the War Department
turned to his disadvantage, and fought all his life for reinstatement,
being upheld by President Jackson and a majority of the United States
Senate.
He had imbibed his father's ideas, and would never use the "von" in his
name because his father had dropped it. When his daughter wished to
resume it, however, he gave his consent and approval.
Major Schaumburg married a daughter of Stephen Page, originally of Page
County, Virginia, and later of Eden Park, a beautiful country-seat,
near Philadelphia, where his children were born. Miss Page, who became
Mrs. Schaumburg, was a woman of much beauty and many accomplishments,
which she transmitted to her daughter.
Emilie von Schaumburg grew up in the home of her uncle, Colonel James
Page, with whom her name is ever identified. Though he was a man of
social and political prominence, his greatest distinction, in the eyes
of his fellow-citizens, arose from his relationship to her.
When this new fame dawned upon him, he had been for nearly fifty years
a well-known and popular figure in the life of the city. His military
record had been made in his youth during the war of 1812. He had
been Postmaster and Collector of the Port of Philadelphia, a leader
in Councils, County Treasurer in an era when politics had gone hand
in hand with principle and patriotism. He was a Jacksonian Democrat,
and had come to be looked upon as the grand old man of his party, who
by birth and breeding could adorn a ball at Madam Rush's or make an
after-dinner speech with as ready a grace as he could march at the head
of the State Fencibles.
In no capacity, however, did he attract that peculiar interest that
pursued him whenever he appeared in public with his niece. On winter
afternoons, at a time when that season was rather longer in the Middle
States than it is at the close of the century, and when the waters of
the rivers used to remain fast frozen for many days they frequently
appeared among the skaters, of whom, in his youth, Colonel Page had
been one of the celebrities. He found new enthusiasm in the graceful
sport, however, from the admiration he read in all faces whenever he
went upon the ice with his niece.
They formed a picture that many paused to look upon, while others, who
knew nothing of the intricacies of the accomplishment, gathered on
the river-bank solely for the pleasure of watching them as they took
those wonderfully long, sweeping curves of the "outer edge," the lithe
figure of the girl seeming to float like a bird on the wing, while the
splendid poise of the handsome, vigorous old man was as erect, as easy,
and as firm as in his youth. He always held that the highest art in
skating was in perfecting, to an almost incredible degree, the delicate
balance of the body on the outer edge of the skate, and so broadening
and lengthening the curves, which are ever, according to Hogarth, the
lines of beauty. The result justified the theory, and he found an apt
pupil in his niece, whose skating, like her dancing, was the very
poetry of motion.
The beauty of some women admits of a diversity of opinion. Emilie
von Schaumburg's did not. It was absolute, and the effect was
instantaneous. A head of classic mould, with its rich adornment of
lustrous black hair, proudly poised upon a throat and shoulders
of perfect form; an oval face, lighted with a fine vivacity and
captivating smile; great hazel eyes with dark brows and sweeping
lashes; delicate, regular features, and a complexion which no art could
imitate in its transparent fairness and brilliancy; a figure, tall and
svelt, all undulating lines and willowy grace; a regal carriage, and,
above all, an air of high-bred elegance and distinction; such, in her
early girlhood, was Emilie von Schaumburg, whom the Prince of Wales
declared the most beautiful woman he had seen in America.
It was on that famous night when the visit of His Royal Highness to
the Academy of Music brought thither one of the most distinguished
audiences ever assembled in Philadelphia. She was dressed with girlish
simplicity in white, her only ornament being a small chain of golden
sequins, which bound the rich masses of her hair and defined her
shapely head, yet such was the subtle power of her presence, that
from the moment she entered that crowded assembly, with its tier upon
tier of brilliantly arrayed women, she became the focus of all eyes,
dividing the attention of the Prince of Wales and the audience with
Patti, who was pouring out her soul in matchless melody upon the stage.
One night, a few years ago, during a performance of Madame Bernhardt,
in Philadelphia, a woman occupying one of the boxes, and carrying
herself with that fine spirit that had been the glory of a previous
generation, was recognized as Emilie Schaumburg, for so she still is,
and forever will be known, among the people of her own city and country.
The discovery flew from mouth to mouth, and many who had never before
seen her, as well as those who looked upon her for the first time after
many years, and recalled that memorable night at the Academy of Music,
bent upon her a gaze of unmistakable admiration.
Her education was principally directed by Hon. Henry Gilpin, who was
the Attorney-General of Van Buren's administration, and a most finished
scholar.
To the many advantages she enjoyed in having access to his library she
subsequently added a thorough knowledge of several modern languages,
for her intellectual endowments were in no degree inferior to her
physical gifts. Though she had a fine artistic sense and an almost
incredible facility in the acquirement of knowledge, she yet early
recognized the necessity of serious study and intelligent application.
In this recognition and the ability to comply with its requirements,
perhaps, more than in any other thing, lies the vast difference between
the mere butterfly of society and the woman who leaves the impress of
her individuality upon the life in which she moves.
Emilie Schaumburg never attempted a thing for which she had no special
talent, but, having once undertaken a study, she pursued it with
enthusiasm, following its every detail to the limit of her capacity.
To an admirer, who once exclaimed, "Is there anything in the world
you cannot do, and do brilliantly?" she replied, "Yes: I was a dismal
failure at both sewing and arithmetic."
Her voice, in speaking as in singing, lent itself to every delicate
inflection. She would delight, when still a very young child, to
imitate. Each new song she caught with an unerring ear, the florid
passages, roulades, and trills flowing as easily and naturally from
the childish throat as from that of a bird. This marvellously flexible
quality of voice she has never lost. In speaking of her musical
education, she once said to a friend,--
"I have had to study phrasing and style and expression, with sostenuto,
crescendo, diminuendo, and various other artistic effects, but the
drudgery of exercises was spared me, thanks to my fairy godmother."
She has always retained her habits of study, and even during her first
brilliant season in Paris she found time to take lessons from Madame
La Grange and also from the celebrated teacher Delle Sédié. Later,
however, at Nice, she studied more consecutively with Maestro Gelli,
who recognized the unusual order of her talents and wrote several
beautiful _morceaux_ expressly for her.
Her beauty and accomplishments were the open sesame to the exclusive
circles of the villa society at Nice, and among the many distinguished
people whom she delighted with her rare gifts was the late lamented
Duke of Albany. Like most of the royal family of England, he was an
accomplished critic and an ardent lover of music. He was enthusiastic
in his praise of Miss von Schaumburg's singing, and when she again met
him, a year or two later, at a court-ball at Buckingham Palace, his
greeting proved that he had not forgotten the impression it had made
upon him. His first words were, "And how is the beautiful voice?"
Before she left Philadelphia her histrionic talents had perhaps made
her more widely known than any other of her many accomplishments.
During the war for the Union, when the stage was the means of raising
many dollars for the benefit of the wounded and suffering soldiers, she
was foremost among the bright and spirited society women who devoted
their talents to the cause.
Her dramatic success was due neither to her beauty nor to her personal
charm, though her expressive features, her voice, and her perfect
grace and ease were undoubtedly powerful adjuncts. Her triumphs were
legitimate, and were the result of careful study, artistic finish, and
unusual histrionic ability. That she possessed, in an extraordinary
degree, the power of getting out of herself and into her parts was
evidenced by the tribute contained in the criticism of some friends who
went to see her in "Masks and Faces." They had gone, they said, solely
to see Miss Schaumburg, whom, however, they soon forgot, their interest
becoming absorbed in the brilliant, fascinating, impulsive Peg.