As I Remember
We heartily shared in the rejoicings of the North when General Lee
surrendered. In our country home we had lived in an actual condition of
camp life so long that at its conclusion I remarked to my husband in a
jocular vein that I was prepared for a life with the Comanches! We
restored our damaged fences, dug up our silver which had been buried
many months under a tree in the garden, and Mr. Gouverneur began to turn
his attention to agriculture. Our farm was among the finest in Frederick
County, which is usually regarded as one of the garden spots of the
country. Our social relations had been entirely suspended, as the
distractions attending the war had kept us so actively employed; but
that was now a past episode and we began making pleasant acquaintances
from Frederick and the surrounding country. Among our first visitors
were Judge and Mrs. William P. Maulsby; Richard M. Potts and his
brother, George Potts; Mr. and Mrs. Charles E. Trail; the Rev. Dr. and
Mrs. George Diehl and their daughter Marie, who in subsequent years
endeared herself to the residents of Frederick; Mrs. John McPherson and
her daughter, Mrs. Worthington Ross; Dr. and Mrs. Fairfax Schley; Judge
and Mrs. John Ritchie; Mr. and Mrs. Jacob M. Kunkel; and the Rev.
Marmaduke Dillon-Lee, an Englishman who had served in the British Army
and at this time was the rector of All Saints Episcopal Church in
Frederick. He had been selected for this pulpit on account of his
neutral political views and we found in him a congenial acquaintance. He
remained in Frederick, however, for only a short period after the war
and was succeeded by the deservedly beloved Rev. Dr. Osborne Ingle, who,
after a pastorate of nearly half a century, recently passed to his
reward. I can not pass this Godly man by without an encomium to his
memory. He came to Frederick as a very young man and throughout his long
rectorship he was truly a leader of his flock and, like the "Good
Shepherd of Old," the sheep knew him and loved him.
It did not take long for Mr. Gouverneur and me to discover that neither
of us was adapted to a country life under the conditions prevailing at
the close of the War--so very different from those existing in that
locality at a later period. He knew nothing of practical farming and I
knew nothing of practical cooking. Although I was never entirely without
domestic service, as I always had with me the Chinese maid whom I had
brought from the East, we were not fitted, at the best, for such a life.
The result was that after one winter's experience we made _Po-ne-sang_
only our summer home. During the trials and tribulations of that distant
winter I often recalled a remark which Lord Chesterfield is said to have
made to several persons whom he disliked: "I wish you were married and
settled in the country." It has even been asserted that, in his
absentmindedness and excitement incident to encountering an infuriated
cow, he addressed the beast with the same words. This was a favorite
anecdote of General Scott, and it appealed to me then as well as now, as
I regard country life a forlorn fate for all women excepting possibly
those who are endowed with large wealth with which to gratify every
passing whim.
The primitive life we led at _Po-ne-sang_ was full of annoyances and
discouragements. For example, we had no running water in our house and
were supposed to supply ourselves from a cistern in the yard which had
contracted the bad habit of running dry and for inconvenient periods
remaining so. We were therefore compelled to carry all our water from a
neighbor's spring at least a quarter of a mile away. We tried to remedy
this defect by boring an artesian well, but all our attempts were
unsuccessful. Country life was distasteful to cooks as they preferred to
live in a city where they could make and mingle with friends, and I soon
learned that if I wanted to keep a servant I must hire one who had a
baby, and that is just what I did. Although country life was distasteful
to her, too, she took her dose of medicine because she could not help
herself as no one else would employ her. Often these babies were a
source of great care to me, as their mothers would neglect
them--sometimes from ignorance but more frequently from sheer
indifference. I remember one cook whose baby, owing to the lack of
proper attention, was actually in danger of starving to death. She kept
it in a wooden box under a tree in the garden, and I was obliged at
stated intervals to see that the child was fed.
During our summers at _Po-ne-sang_ our servants made both hard and soft
soap in a large kettle which swung from an iron tripod in the yard. They
also made apple and peach butter, a German marmalade that was highly
regarded in that section of the country. The apples or peaches were
allowed to cook slowly all day in a kettle suspended from the tripod and
were stirred by wooden paddles, whose handles were long enough to enable
them to be worked at a convenient distance from the fire. In making this
marmalade, cider was regarded as an important ingredient and the sugar
was seldom added until the last. Mr. Gouverneur experimented somewhat in
wine making. His success was almost phenomenal and we enjoyed the fruits
of his labor for many years. He used Catawba grapes entirely, which were
brought to our door in wagon-loads by the country folk who surrounded
us.
The Maryland mountaineers, as I knew them, were very similar in life and
character to those in North Carolina, of whom more or less has been
written the last few years. They had peculiar customs as well as quaint
modes of action and expression, and invented names for things and
conditions to suit themselves. I remember, for example, that when
persons showed signs of physical illness and the exact nature of their
maladies was uncertain they were said to have "the gobacks." Frederick
County was settled by the early Germans and many of their expressions
are still in vogue. A peach dried whole with the seed retained is
called a _hutzel_, and dried apples are _snitz_. In this connection I am
reminded of a German family named House, which resided in Frederick and
consisted of four maiden sisters. Their means were limited and they eked
out their living by stamping from original designs and taking in plain
sewing. Their front door was always locked and bolted, and to reach the
inmates it was necessary to pass through a gate leading into a long
alley and thence through a scrupulously clean kitchen and up the steep
and narrow back stairs to a small rear room, where sat these four
spinsters. The first one who met you said, "Good-morning," and the
others repeated the salutation in turn until the last one was reached,
who simply said, "Morning." This laughable procedure was followed in
their subsequent conversation, for one of them had only to lead off with
a remark and the others repeated the close of it. It is said that
Crissie, the youngest of the quartette, once had a beau with whom she
sat each night for many years in their prim parlor and that, when he
finally jilted her, one of her sisters was heard to remark, _apropos_ of
the broken engagement: "Just think of all them candles wasted!"
The second winter of our Maryland life was spent at a hotel in Frederick
where we formed a lasting friendship with our fellow boarders, Judge and
Mrs. John A. Lynch. With my historical as well as social tastes, I found
the McPherson household a source of great pleasure and intellectual
profit to me. I knew Mrs. "Fanny" McPherson, as she was invariably
called, only as an elderly woman who retained all the graces and charms
of youth. To listen to her tales of bygone days was a pleasure upon
which I even yet delight to dwell. She lived to a very great age
surrounded by her children, her grandchildren and her
great-grandchildren, and went to her grave beloved by all. She was the
granddaughter of Thomas Johnson, the first Governor of Maryland. I
remember reading on one occasion a letter which she took great pride in
showing me, written to her grandfather by Washington, offering him the
position of Secretary of State in his cabinet. This flattering offer he
declined, but to him is said to belong the honor of having nominated
Washington as Commander in Chief of the Army.
Mrs. McPherson was nearly related to Mrs. John Quincy Adams, who was
Louisa Catharine Johnson of this same Maryland family, and, as she was
an occasional visitor at the White House during her relative's residence
there, she mingled with many prominent people. I recall a weird story
she once told me in connection with a daughter of Smith Thompson,
Secretary of the Navy under President Monroe. It seems she married the
Viscount Paul Alfred de Bresson, the third Secretary of the French
Embassy in Washington, and subsequently many elaborate entertainments
were given in her honor in Washington. She returned with her husband to
Europe and several months later her family received the announcement of
her death. As they had only recently received a letter from her, when
apparently she was in the best of health and spirits, they felt somewhat
skeptical and wrote at once for more definite information. A few weeks
later a package reached them containing her heart preserved in alcohol.
Mrs. McPherson's older daughter, Mrs. Worthington Ross, lived with her
mother and ministered with loving hands to her wants in her old age,
while the remainder of her life was devoted to unselfish labor in her
Master's vineyard. Her memory, as well as that of her only child, Fanny
McPherson Ross, who passed onward and upward before her, is still
revered in Frederick.
Mr. Gouverneur and I also formed a pleasant acquaintance with Rev. Dr.
John McElroy, whose remarkable career in the Catholic Church is well
worthy of notice. Coming to this country as a mere lad, he engaged in
mercantile pursuits in Georgetown, D.C., and when about sixteen years
of age became a lay Jesuit and in 1817 entered the priesthood. After
ministering to Trinity church in Georgetown for several years, he was
transferred, at the request of Chief Justice Roger B. Taney, to
Frederick, where he built St. John's church, a college, an academy, an
orphan asylum, and the first free school in the city. After remaining
there for twenty-three years and establishing a reputation for devotion
to his church and rare executive ability that made him one of the most
useful Jesuits in the country, he was sent back to his old church in
Georgetown and the following year went to the Mexican War as Chaplain in
the regiment commanded by Caleb Cushing. During our occasional
conversations it seemed to afford him more than usual pleasure to
discuss with me the ability of his distinguished military chief. After
the war he was sent to Boston, where he became pastor of St. Mary's
church, and built the Boston College and the Church of the Immaculate
Conception. At the age of ninety, he became blind and retired to the
scene of his early labors in Frederick, where, as the oldest Jesuit in
the world, he died in the fall of 1877. I remember meeting him one day
on the street when he proudly announced that it was his birthday and
that he was sixty-nine years of age. I knew him to be much older, and my
words of astonishment evidently revived his senses for, realizing that
he had reversed his figures, he corrected himself by adding, "I mean
ninety-six." At that time he was quite active, considering his extreme
age, and to the close of his life was much respected and beloved by the
residents of Frederick, irrespective of creed. I attended his funeral
and he was laid to rest in the burying ground of the old Novitiate which
he founded. It was then that I saw for the first time the grave of Chief
Justice Roger B. Taney. The two-story brick house in Frederick in which