me, one of the most admirable hostesses of the "White House — her conversation was charming. It was the fashion to be poor in Washington in those days, and I remember the witty Henry A. Wise, who had just then published his clever book, Los Gringos, when he became engaged to the brilliant Miss Charlotte Everett, saying to his fellow-officers: "Don't be afraid. She is so unlucky as to have some money, but she is a good fellow for all that." What a witty man he was, and how much we enjoyed the suppers at the Mays', of which he was a factor!
Then there were quiet literary parties at Mrs. Frank Taylor's, where we met a very remarkable man, Mr. George Wood, who wrote Peter Schlemihl; or, The Man without a Shadow. Mr. Wood used to take us to see Mr. King's pictures, and he introduced us to charming, quiet people, who were the citizens of Washington, mostly Southern by descent, and those ladies would sit in plain black silks and dark gloves to receive their guests. It was a splendid distinction then, as now, to be asked to the White House to dine, and it was one we looked forward to once a winter; but dinners were too long and heavy, and the drinking of healths, now so happily abolished, was a nuisance, at least we young ladies thought so.
Mr. Seward was in the Senate, a youngish man, very witty and very delightful. His great fame was ahead of him, but we of New York, the Whigs, were very proud of him. His head resembled that of Julius Cæsar on the coins.
On New-Year's Day we went first to the White House and then to call on the cabinet, and sometimes to Arlington to call on Mr. Custis. That was a great chapter out of history to see for the first time his historical pictures, and to be asked by his lovely and amiable wife
