Things I remember

Chapter I

My ancestors: The overcrowded Mayflower: The Townshends: Henry Townshend protects the Quakers: He is imprisoned: Life in the New World: My father: Henry Hull Martin: His early struggles: A devoted son: The story of a shawl: Courtship and marriage: A leading question: Brains versus dollars: My birth: Early impressions: My grandmother: Mrs. Townshend: The end of the passage: An enchanted room: The romance of history: A honeymoon trip: My grandmother's voyage up the Hudson: A romantic episode: The great chain: Rip Van Winkle land: Home at last: My grandmother's recollections of Old New York : A cultured circle : Terpsichore not Tango: How society amused itself : Roderick Mcintosh : "A hundred pipers an' a', an' a' " : My grandmother Martin : A Puritan of Puritans: Her methods: I resent her interference : My own territory : Nemesis at the window : A whipping Pp. 25-47

CONTENTS

Chapter II

My father: His theories: "Lead us not into temptation": My mother, her gentle influence: Pre-natal conditions: Her sympathy: "Just a mother with a mother's heart": Living books: My accident: A long convalescence: My hero: Uncle Frederick and the butler's son: An expedition to California: The Argonauts: El Dorado: Misfortune dogs my uncle's footsteps: The Old Man of the Sea: The Nugget: A dreamer of dreams: New York: I visit the Battery: "They that go down to the sea in ships": I go to Union College: Life in Albany: The old Schuyler Mansion: Family mirth-makers: A funeral at Middletown: A recipe to stop nose-bleeding: A chapter of accidents: My uncle's anger: From bad to worse: After the funeral: My uncle's ultimatum: Franklin Townsend : His violin : The poodle that knew the time: The responsibilities of wealth: A man of means: Mr. Townsend and the heiress: How General Howard James drilled his servants: A troop of Amazons: The simple life: A "good atmosphere": My first play: Death of my mother: "It is deep happiness to die, yet live in love's dear memory" Pp. 48-69

CONTENTS

Chapter III

My brother's marriage: Miss Cornelia Sherman: I look out of the window: A pretty picture: Changes: From hotel to convent: Sharon Springs: I meet Ward McAllister: A serenade: I visit New York: Old landmarks: Mrs. Ronalds: Her famous costume ball: Music: The illuminated harp: The triumph of electricity: "Age cannot wither nor custom stale her infinite variety": Life in Albany : Lord Palmerston and the beggar : I am elected President of the Young Men's Association: A reception: No admittance for my father: My first speech: Mrs. Moulton sings at Albany: A favourite at the Tuileries: Charlotte Cushman: I recall her first triumph: The dead President's progress Pp. 70-90

Chapter IV

Newport in the days of my youth: The present town of palaces: Mrs. Paran Stevens: A great social leader: Her sister Miss Fanny Reed: Sung into society: A Patti of the salons: A concert during the war: Mrs. Stevens and Mr. Travers: "Cold tea, hot Apollinaris, and bad music": The Griswold Grays: An ideal cottage: Two dinners:

CONTENTS

Beauty and brains: The fountain: Why the ceiling fell down: Peter Marie: A gentleman of the old school: His poetical tendencies: Invitations in verse: Newport's vanished charm: Belle Vue Avenue of to-day: Motors and millionaires: Artificiality ever present: A trip to Europe: My dreams are realized: The old Russia: Fourteen days at sea : We arrive in London : The State entry of the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh: A snowy reception: I see Queen Victoria: Her strength of character: On the balcony of Buckingham Palace: Prince Eddy and Prince George: Alone in London: Another imposing sight: The funeral of Napoleon HI: All is vanity: The Prince Imperial: A gallant figure: A procession of Imperialists : Shattered hopes : One whom death has forgotten: The Empress Eugenie: Vive I'Empereur : We return to London : I write an account of our experiences: The lost art of letter writing: The cable saves a sheet of note-paper Pp. 91-109

Chapter V

Paris : Memories of Malmaison : Two bad Queens : La Grande Duchesse : Fair Sinners : A clergyman's daughter: My compatriots: Mrs. Moore: Mrs. Ayers defies Time: A salon at seventy: The

Baronne de la Selliere: Emma Eames: I meet Sargent: Bonnet and Carolus Duran: Rodin: His personality: The tragic eyes of Madame X: I hear her story: A callous mother: Society is shocked: Miss Reed: "The finder of stars": Sybil Saunderson: She sings to Massenet: Her success: She introduces Mary Garden to Miss Reed: A woman of temperament: Madame Melba: The meaning of work: Melba memories: A cake-walk at Palm Beach : Alone in New York : Ministers and their wives: The right people: How Mrs. Henry White separated the sheep from the goats : Mrs. Whitelaw Reid : General Porter : The McCormicks : Mr. Goodrich and Loie Fuller

Chapter VI

Victor Hugo's funeral : Under the Arc de Triomphe : Severe simplicity: A poet's progress: The heart of the people: I recall another funeral: The King of Hanover: "The divinity which doth hedge a king" : Paris as a spectacular background : My apartment: My hobby: A man of peace: I give a party in the Bois : Cleo de Merode : Flaming June: A long wait: Cleo appears: Why she was late: The ordeal by sunlight: Was she afraid of freckles?: The Gallic temperament: Mrs. Potter Palmer: A champion of women: The business capacity of the American woman: "Do it yourself": The Duchesse de Chaulne : "Dook or no dook" : Mrs. Campbell's common-sense: Vanished faces: "One must have courage": Rome and the Popes: Pius IX questions me about America: "Au Revoir": My audience with Leo XIII: A dignified Pope: "Are you of my faith?" : I explain that I am anxious to receive the blessing of a good man: I see Pius X: His extreme simplicity: I am presented at the Quirinal: Queen Margherita: Her charm: "The Pearl of Savoy": Social Life in Rome: I meet Madame Ristori: Talks over the tea-cups: Ristori tells me about her meeting with Queen Isabella of Spain: "Anything you like to ask is granted" : "The life of a poor man" : Isabella keeps her promise: F. Marion Crawford: "A Cigarette Maker's Romance" Pp. 135-152

Chapter VII

Looking backward: London in the seventies: The growth of hotel life : Clubland : The border line : The repose of society : Modern woman : Successful sinners: Vows sometimes made to be broken: The season: Then and now: The day of the automobile: Church versus car: The three arbiters of fashion: The Mahlon Sands': Mrs. Sands' friendship with the late King: A cold dinner: At Waddesdon Manor: A house-warming: Interesting visitors: I talk to the Prince of Wales: His visit to America: The Souvenir Cigar: H.R.H. is amused: His dislike of American men: His criticism of adverse criticism: The late King's ideas of dignity: Where fools rush in: The aspirant's downfall: The Rothschilds: How they purchased pictures: Miss Alice Rothschild: Tears have their uses: I meet Mr. Gladstone: His opinion of the masses: Their ultimate power: New ideas: How Mr. Gladstone defied time: The cobwebs of the Old Country: The power of the Press: Houses and their occupants: What the supersensitive experience: Death of Mahlon Sands: His talents: A witty answer: His accident: "Better death than life without thee": A last interview with Mrs. Sands: Her sudden end: "Ills have no weight and tears no bitterness"

Chapter VIII

Cowes: Pleasant Recollections: I meet the late King : The value of royal anecdotes : A reviewer's disapproval : Viscount de Stern : Alexander Yorke :

A wonderful mimic: He imitates Queen Victoria: A summons at the window: "I'm a done man": The Prince's command: "What will the Queen say?": Alec plays hymns: I meet Sir Oscar Clayton: A distinguished physician: His weakness for titles: "I've met seven Duchesses": It is worry that kills: Want of money often the root of Ijodily evil: Cheques instead of prescriptions: The Prince comes to supper: The missing singers: H.R.H. consoles Stern: "A Feast of Lanterns": An English peerage for £70,000: Lord Wandsworth : An election story : Mrs, Mackay at Cowes : Her marvellous jewels: Dancing the "Boston": Lady Henry Lennox: What constitutes enjoyment?: Cowes recalls Cannes: The Earthquake: The late King at Cannes: Mrs. Campbell of Craigie: "Lend me your valet": He pours the coffee over the cloth: H.R.H. 's kindness: Adele Grant and Lord Cairns: Monte Carlo: Gambling resorts in the sixties: The four friends: Garcia: His system: The Prince and the gambler: Disreputable company: Where did the Duchesses come in?: The clergyman and his daughters: Playing by proxy: Twice lucky: Why "twenty-three" was wrong Pp. 168-186

Chapter IX

My first meet: Neville Holt: Lady Clarendon: A visit to Berkeley Castle: Where King Edward H was murdered: Old-fashioned formality at Berkeley Castle: Harry Sands does not put in an appearance at breakfast: I explain the reason: House or hotel: A peeress of the old regime: Morning and evening prayers at Lady Galway's: Careless domesticity: The woman who didn't know her own house: The late Lady Holland: I take tea with her: A family spectre: Lowther Lodge: Singleton: A tragic visit: Sudden death of Lord Swansea : A night of terror : I see Coombe Abbey for the first time: Tranby Croft: Mrs. Arthur Wilson's kindness: Her superstition: The opal necklace: Jewels and their wearers: Mrs. Bradley Martin acquires some of the French Crown Jewels: Marie Antoinette's necklace: "A band of blood" : The story of the missing pendant : The butler's secret: A thief in the night: The pearl snatcher: Andrew Carnegie vetoes the wearing of jewels: A relic of barbarism: Simplicity versus Sapphires : The late Duchess of Devonshire : Her love of money: A great social leader: An Ascot story: James R. Keene and the Duchess: A ladies' luncheon: The best for a debutante: "Beauty, wealth or brains?": The women's verdiet: I visit Cawdor Castle: "Not angles, but angels": From Cawdor to Culloden: Moy Hall: Relics of Prince Charlie: King George V praises the shooting: Charlcote: The woods: The stately homes of England : Sacred trusts : The death-duties which never leave us: I must not moralize: Mrs. Stuyvesant Fish prevents me from sermonizing

Chapter X

The advent of the American woman in English society: How the Invasion came about: Miss Jerome becomes Lady Randolph Churchill: The Stevens-Paget alliance: The American heiress in fiction: An impossible character: The Girl from the Golden West: Then and now: The education of an heiress: A strenuous life: The Invasion viewed with alarm by Society: A new influence: The American's progress: The heiress realizes her own value: The open-handed daughters of Liberty: The uses of advertisement: A good investment: Lady Paget: The belle of Newport: An ambitious mother: A season in London: The late King as a matchmaker: Mr. Paget proposes: He is refused: He proposes a second time: Minnie Stevens becomes Mrs. Paget: A leading hostess: Lady Paget's personality : Her pluck : Seven operatioiis ! : A society woman's wish : Helen Beckwith : Her marriage with the Hon. Dudley Leigh: "Once a friend, always a friend": Lady Naylor- Leyland: Her beauty: Goethe's Margaret: How American women adapt themselves to new conditions: Are they ever home-sick?: Mrs. George Keppel recognizes American influence : The stronghold of dukedom: Lesser lights: The youngest American brides: Consuelo Duchess of Manchester : A penniless girl : Her poverty : She entertains the late King at dinner: Where the dishes came from: Mrs. Ronalds: The story of the necklace: Madame Waddington : She mixes with the crowd : A happy answer: The late Lady Curzon: Her role at Newport: A great lady Pp. 207-224

Chapter XI

William Gillett: The Bachelors' Club: The Clearing House System: Merit is passed over: Mr. Gillett's radium parties: Charles Dalison: A beau of the seventies: The end of a worldly life: The Whitelaw Reids: A hospitable ambassador: Mr. Choate: His wit: "Just start cackling, madam": The late Bradley Martin and his connection with Balmacaan: My brother rents Lakefield: The ghost there: Bradley takes over Balmacaan from Henry Allsop: A beautiful home: The shores of Loch Ness : Our love for Scotland : The joy of life: Another ghost: The spectral coach: Lord Lovat's funeral: Unlimited whisky: A two-mile walk: Lady Burton and the late King: "One thing needful": Edward VII decorates Lord Brougham's butler: Our theatrical and literary neighbours: Sir Henry Irving: The Terrys: Mrs. Lewis lets her cottage to Barrie: Sir James and the donkey: His love of children: His retiring disposition: Memories of Bradley: The best of brothers: Speaking in public: I go down to the East End : An audience at Whitechapel Pp. 225-240

Chapter XII

The lure of travel: Its value as an education: A six months' tour or six years at college?: My first glimpse of Spain: Tarifa: A Moorish hill town: The old fortress: A Spartan father: By moonlight to Begar: Cleanly Cadiz: Madrid: The usual sight-seeing: June in Norway: Homely incidents: Cold water is thrown on Howard's efforts to explain: Towels at last are forthcoming: The land of untrodden ways: Trippers in Switzerland: A walking tour in the Tyrol: A peaceful spot: "Surely we must be very near

Heaven?": "You must climb higher": I am mistaken for an Archduke: Wasted ammunition: We journey to the Holy Land: Illness at Beyrout: The last Emperor of Brazil comes to see me: The sight which gave me life: "The Stars and Stripes": Round the world with Harry Sands: San Francisco: The Duke of Atholl: Japan: I see Fusiyama : The magic of the East : We go upcountry: Then and now: Silent souvenirs: The fragrance of vanished summers: The Sultan of Singapore: The cholera epidemic in Ceylon: A railway accident near Benares: Bombay: Sudden death of Lady Ferguson: We leave for Malta: In quarantine at Suez: From Malta to Syracuse: A storm : Naples : Back to Paris : The end of the journey Pp. 241-255

Chapter XIII

The late Ward McAllister: "The Four Hundred": Restful Society: The old families: The Queens of Sheba: The Belmonts: Their house in Fifth Avenue: The two Mrs. Astors: Mrs. Pierre Lorillard: Her husband: Tuxedo Park: Mrs. Van Rensselaer Cruger: A great-niece of Washington Irving: "Sleepy Hollow": A royal exile: Years afterwards: A fete champetre: A

French fancy-dress ball in 1828: The old noblesse: Mr. Montant and his ancestors: A gentleman of France: Furniture from the old Chateau: A costume ball: Malibran as a guest: The old Bowling Green Theatre: Jenny Lind: My friendship with Madame Nordica: A success of perseverance: Talents and temperament : The kindest of women : The late General Grant: His judgment: "Gentlemen, we cross the Potomac to-night": Grant and Lee: A contrast: "Take back your sword": Robert Lee's request: A generous adversary: The son who stood upon his dignity: "To dine and sleep at Windsor" : The little table : What Queen Victoria said: Out-Heroding Herod: Old Mr. Germaine: His hobby: A taste for saving money: Three deaths: The callousness of Society: Ward McAllister's funeral : Five out of a hundred ! : The last music: Life's little ironies: Malicious Fate: "Man and his littleness perish, erased like an error and cancelled" Pp. 256-270

Chapter XIV

Henry M. Flagler: The maker of Florida: His early struggles: His forceful character: Henry B. Plant: An unsuccessful rival: An interesting Sunday: Three great men: My mission in the Bowery: The stokers' strike: On board the Kaiser Wilhelm II: I receive a note: What it contained: The Bowery boys as stokers: Women who help humanity: Mrs. William Sloane and her sisters: Mrs. Stuyvesant Fish and her opinion of me as a speaker: The famous costume ball: Mrs. Bradley Martin's wish to give an impetus to trade: A storm of comment: The ball is denounced from the pulpit : Threatening letters : We are burlesqued on the stage: What Theodore Roosevelt said: A dream of loveliness: Versailles and New York: Wonderful jewels: Family heirlooms: A touch of barbarism: The altar of the Golden Calfc The road to disillusion: My brother decides to live in London: Lady Craven: Lord Uffington and his grandmothers: The disadvantages of the Embassy system: My tour with Mr. E. Clarence Jones: Apathetic citizens: Archbishop Ireland: A hostile reception at Atlanta: A Baptist deputation: Prehistoric cars: A cloud of petrol: "Is this a joy ride?": A dance at Louisville: The old Gait House: Southern belles: A curious custom: Was our tour successful?: My crusade against the idle rich: Selfish Society: "A traitor to my class": My appreciation of the American Press: The lighter side of life: The love of luxury: Unhappy marriages : The ideal union : The evils of Platonic friendship; Looking backward: Partings in our family : The graves of a household : The memory of the beloved dead: My wish Pp. 271-292

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Frederick Townsend Martin Frontispiece \^

FACING PAGE

My Grandmother — Hannah Townsend .... 34

My Father— Henry Hull Martin 50 "^

My Brother— Bradley Martin 70 >^

A House Party at Balmacaan 198 ^''^

Mr. William Gillett with Mrs. Bradley Martin and

Count Kergorley 226 ^

Group: Mr. Frederick Townsend Martin, Lord Leigh, Mr. Bradley Martin, The Hon. Charles Harris 236 (/

Group: Mr. Hugh Warrender, The Countess of Craven, Mr. Franklin Otis, Mr. Frank Murietta. The Hon. Charles Harris, and Mr. Townsend Martin 246 ^^

Chapter I

My ancestors: The overcrowded Mayflower: The Townshends: Henry Townshend protects the Quakers: He is imprisoned: Life in the New World: My father: Henry Hull Martin: His early struggles: A devoted son: The story of a shawl: Courtship and marriage: A leading question: Brains versus dollars: My birth: Early impressions: My grandmother: Mrs. Townshend: The end of the passage: An enchanted room: The romance of history: A honeymoon trip: My grandmother's voyage up the Hudson: A romantic episode: The great chain: Rip Van Winkle land: Home at last: My grandmother's recollections of Old New York : A cultured circle : Terpsichore not Tango: How society amused itself : Roderick Mcintosh : "A hundred pipers an* a', an' a' ": My grandmother Martin: A Puritan of Puritans: Her methods: I resent her interference : My own territory : Nemesis at the window : A whipping

My ancestors did not sail to America in that

overcrowded vessel The Mayflower, for it was not until the year 1665, when London was swept by the plague, that three brothers, John, Henry and Richard Townshend left England to seek their fortunes in the New World. Their father had provided them with sufficient means to make their way in the young country, and they were undaunted at the prospect of being weeks at sea in an old sailing ship driven hither and thither at the mercy of the winds and waters.

The Townshends left behind them their beautiful home of Raynham, an estate which had been the property of their progenitors since the Conquest, when William of Normandy gave it to De Haville, one of his captains.

The family served their sovereigns well, and Roger Townshend was knighted during the stirring times of the Armada. Horatio Townshend rendered such services to Charles H that he was raised to the Peerage in 1661 under the title of Baron Townshend of Lynn Regis, and his dignities were further increased In 1682 when he was made a Viscount.

A voyage across the Atlantic does not appear strange to us now-a-days when science has done so much to save time and trouble, but the Townshends must have been heartily tired of their slow, monotonous passage long before they reached America. The brothers first settled at Oyster Bay, then an important rendezvous for the British fleet, but later they dispersed. Henry went up the Hudson river and settled in Cornwall, Richard made for Pennsylvania, and John remained at Oyster Bay, where the house that he built still stands.

Henry Townshend seems to have been a man of strong religious convictions, and he was greatly distressed at the persecution of the Quakers by the bigoted Puritans of those days. His sympathy with the oppressed sect showed itself in a practical manner, for he allowed the Quakers to hold their meetings at his house, an act of tolerance which greatly incensed Peter Stuyvesant, the Burgomaster of the town. He decided to make an example of Henry Townshend, so he promptly had him arrested and imprisoned in the Fort at New Amsterdam, where he spent months of solitary confinement, cheered only by the daily visits of his little daughter, who was allowed to bring him his food.

After his release Henry returned to Oyster Bay, where he lived unmolested to a good old age. He seems to have been a man of lovable personality, who had the courage of his convictions, and whose high purpose bore out the old family motto, "Fidelity earned these honours for our race."

The Townshends apparently never regretted their severance from the Old Country; they prospered in the New World, handsome sons and fair daughters were born to them, and the pressing anxieties of life seem to have passed them by.

My grandmother, Hannah Townshend, was born in 1785, and married her second cousin Isaiah Townshend. They settled in Albany, the capital of the state of New York, and their daughter Anne was destined later to become the wife of my father, Henry Hull Martin.

It is difficult to realize adequately the difference between the families of Townshend and Martin. The Townshends represented the good type of the aristocratic settlers in America, who had preserved the culture and refinement of the Court of St. James's, whilst the Martins embodied the splendid spirit of those early pioneers who endured untold hardships with a dogged determination to "win through."

Henry Hull Martin was born at Avon Genesia in 1809. His father died when a comparatively young man, leaving just enough money to educate his son, and support his widow and three daughters, who found it somewhat of a struggle to live, but as soon as Henry Martin graduated at Union College he gave the little money he had to his mother and started out to support himself.

His life at college was one of absolute selfdenial ; his chief aim was to avoid embarrassing his mother in any way, and I am sure that he must have suffered many things in silence. He was a very tall man, and his clothes had always to be made for him, so when his overcoat was worn out, and a new one meant a call on the slender home finances, Henry would wrap himself up in a shawl and unconcernedly brave the elements and the storm of chaff which invariably assailed him when he went to his classes.

"Well, Martin," remarked the President of Union College one day when he came face to face in the street with the thin shawl enveloped figure. "Surely you don't realize what is wrapped up in your mantle."

I never think of this story without marvelling at my father's moral courage, and I think few collegians now-a-days would follow his example, as it seems to be the usual thing for young men to emulate women's love of dress, and to incur endless tailors' bills with a total disregard of when and how they are to be paid.

After leaving Union College, Henry Martin became private secretary to Troup, who w^as Governor of the State of New York, and whilst residing at Albany he met Anne Townsend, with whom he fell in love at first sight. Without more ado, the young man went at once to Isaiah Townsend and demanded his daughter in marriage.

The Magnate of Albany listened to the presumptuous suitor in silent amazement, but at last he found words. "Young man," he asked coldly, "how do you propose to support my daughter?"

"With the brains which God has given me," answered the lover; and, when he saw the look of incredulous disdain on the face of Isaiah Townsend, he added warmly, "Yes, sir, with my brains I'll undertake to support your daughter and to make her happy."

I do not know whether old Mr. Townsend was more impressed by Henry Martin's audacity, or by his personality, but in the end he gave his consent to the marriage, and my parents lived close to the Townsend house in Albany, where my father started as a lawyer and where he continued to practise until 1854, when he became a banker.

I was my parents' sixth child, and I was born on December 6, 1849. It was a marvel that I came into the world alive, as for some weeks before my arrival my mother had been dangerously ill with inflammatory rheumatism, and a fatal termination was regarded as inevitable. The anxiety of the family was terrible, and their fears increased hourly on the wintry night when I was born. But even the longest period of anxiety must come to an end, and at last my father entered the sitting-room, pale but happy, and announced, "Anne is safe, and she has another son."

My happiest recollections centre round my childhood. We were a most united family; our early affection has endured the test of time, and when my sister Anna (who became Mrs. Rochester) was dying, her last words, which are too sacred to repeat, made me realize the meaning of those bonds. Alice, my senior by two years, was my inseparable companion and the sweetest tomboy imaginable; little Harriett played with us for six years, and then Death called her away. My brothers were dear boys ; there was Henry and Bradley, whose loss is still so fresh that I hardly dare to realize it, and Howard, who was later to accompany me on my travels abroad.

The most impressive figure of those early days was my grandmother Townsend. She was a woman of extraordinary personality, and she reigned as a queen over society in Albany, where her circle consisted of people who were distinguished for their wit and breeding. Grandmother ruled without effort. She fascinated me even as a tiny child, until I became her willing and adoring slave, and the great house in Washington Avenue, where she lived, was to me a palace of enchantment. A subtle sympathy drew us together, and I believe she was quite innocently proud of being able to attract me, and to see how eagerly I left my play when I was allowed to spend an hour with her.

My most vivid recollection of my grandmother is when I used to creep down the passage which led to the library. I can see her yet, sitting in her great high-backed chair by the window with the light falling on her sweet face with its delicate features and wonderful eyes, which always seemed to speak. Mrs. Townsend was not one of the modern grandmothers ; her fine lace cap was not to her an admission of age of which shewas ashamed ; indeed I thought her stiff, pretty curls looked enchanting under it, and her silk gown, with its lace collar and cuffs, was always dignified and becoming. Negligees were unknown in her day, and I doubt if she would have given a tea-gown a moment's consideration.

I pushed the door open very quietly. "Do I disturb you, grandmother," I would ask, and I was always reassured by her charming smile and the delightful "Come in, Frederick." Then I advanced to the seat by the window to

My grandmother — Hannah Townsend be kissed and welcomed, and afterwards, seated by her side, I would beg her to tell me a story. It was very peaceful in that quiet library, with its old-fashioned furniture, which Mrs. Townsend had inherited from her mother, and which had come all the way from England — as did even the bricks with which the house was built, for in those days bricks were not made in America. It was the atmosphere of refinement which appealed to me. I loved the romance which seemed to cling to my grandmother, and she, impressionable, a dreamer of beautiful thoughts, insensibly coloured my mind with her imaginings. I owe to her any taste I have for the beautiful, my appreciation of the charm of bygone days, and my power to conjure up scenes of the past, and to people them with those who played their parts in history or romance. Thus the dead, the great, the beautiful, the gifted and the unfortunate are to me living people, and this extraordinary power of visualizing dates back to those happy hours in Washington Avenue.

The story which seemed to give my grandmother the greatest pleasure to relate was the account of her honeymoon trip up the Hudson river to Albany.

After the wedding the bride and bridegroom with the relatives and guests went down to the Battery in all the splendour of a golden afternoon. It was early summer, a slight breeze ruffled the waters of the Hudson, and the sloop which had been chartered for the journey rocked gently at the quay. It must have been a picturesque sight, this wedding party in Old New York. I can imagine the bevyof pretty girls in their high-waisted clinging muslin gowns, the young bride in her long white satin cloak and plumed hat, the men in their blue or drab coats with brass buttons, and every one deciding that this voyage up the Hudson was vastly original and diverting.

There were only some servants and the crew on board, for the household possessions had been previously dispatched, and whilst the bride's luggage was being stowed away she bade farewell to her friends, and clung tearfully to her mother, for in those times "sensibility" was in fashion and hearts were a little less blase than they are to-day. Then Mrs. Townsend made her way down the worn, grey steps (I think her thin satin slippers must have been sadly stained with the ooze as she went on board, followed by her husband). The sloop cast off, the sails filled, and the boat drew away, amidst waving farewells and many wafted kisses from the bride, until it disappeared in a golden haze, symbolical, as perhaps some romantic soul may have declared, of a golden future for the newly married pair. Then began the memorable voyage, and how often have I journeyed in imagination with my grandmother up the beautiful Hudson river, where, I think, the scenery outrivals the Rhine. Day by day the boat glided along on its voyage of 150 miles. The magnificent panorama of the Palisades gave place to the calm Tappan-Zee, and the wondering young people admired the Highlands and the Narrows, where dark, deep gorges lie beneath lofty hills. Sometimes my grandparents landed and took horses to some place of interest. Then came a long day of exploring the thickly wooded country, and in the silent forests they would sometimes chance on the remains of an Indian camp fire; at dusk they rode through the scented night air back to the waiting sloop, and continued their voyage.