DEA

(To Henry Brevoort)

CITY OF WASHINGTON, Jan. 13, 1811

EAR BREVOORT: I have been constantly intending to write to you; but you know the hurry and confusion of the life I at present lead, and the distraction of thought which it occasions, and which is totally hostile to letter writing. The letter, however, which you have been so good as to write me, demands a return of one kind or another; and so I answer it, partly through a sense of duty, and partly in hopes of inducing you to write another.

My journey to Baltimore was terrible and sublime - as full of adventurous matter and direful peril as one of Walter Scott's pantomimic, melo-dramatic, romantic tales. I was three days on the road, and slept one night in a log-house. Yet somehow or another, I lived through it all; and lived merrily into the bargain, for which I thank a large stock of good humor, which I put up before my departure from New York, as travelling stores to last me throughout my expedition. In a word, I left home, determined to be pleased with every thing, or if not pleased, to be amused, if I may be allowed the distinction, and I have hitherto kept to my determination.

The ride from Baltimore to Washington was still worse than the former one; but I had two or three odd geniuses for fellow-passengers, and made out to amuse myself very well. I arrived at the Inn about dusk; and, understanding that Mrs. Madison was to have her levee or drawingroom that very evening, I swore by all my gods I would be there. But how? was the question. I had got away down into Georgetown, and the persons to whom my letters of introduction were directed, lived all upon Capitol

A Sanguinary Barber

Hill, about three miles off, while the President's house was exactly half way. Here was a non-plus enough to startle any man of less enterprising spirit; but I had sworn to be there, and I determined to keep my oath, and like Caleb Quotem, to "have a place at the Review." So I mounted with a stout heart to my room; resolved to put on my pease blossoms and silk stockings; gird up my loins; sally forth on my expedition; and like a vagabond knight errant, trust to Providence for success and whole bones. Just as I descended from my attic chamber, full of this valorous spirit, I was met by my landlord, with whom, and the head waiter, by-the-bye, I had held a private cabinet counsel on the subject. Bully Rook informed me that there was a party of gentlemen just going from the house, one of whom, Mr. Fontaine Maury of New York, had offered his services to introduce me to "the Sublime Porte." I cut one of my best opera flourishes; skipped into the dressing-room, popped my head into the hands of a sanguinary Jacobinical barber, who carried havoc and desolation into the lower regions of my face; mowed down all the beard on one of my cheeks, and laid the other in blood like a conquered province; and thus, like a second Banquo, with "twenty mortal murthers on my head,” in a few minutes I emerged from dirt and darkness into the blazing splendor of Mrs. Madison's drawing-room. Here I was most graciously received; found a crowded collection of great and little men, of ugly old women and beautiful young ones, and in ten minutes was hand and glove with half the people in the assemblage. Mrs. Madison is a fine, portly, buxom dame, who has a smile and a pleasant word for everybody. Her sisters, Mrs. Cutts and Mrs. Washington, are like the two merry wives of Windsor; but as to Jemmy Madison- -ah! poor Jemmy!— he is but a withered little apple-John. . . .

is here, and "my brother George" into the bargain. is endeavoring to obtain a deposit in the Mechanic's Bank, in case the U. S. Bank does not obtain a charter. He is as deep as usual; shakes his head, and winks through his spectacles at every body he meets. He swore to me the other day, that he had not told anybody what his opinion was, whether the bank ought to have a charter or not; nobody in Washington knew what his - nobody - he defied any one to anybody - damn the one-no, sir - and, if he had added nobody cares, would have been exactly in the right. "damn that fellow-knows

not one

opinion was
say what it was
- nobody knows"

I believe honest

66

Then there's his brother

eight or nine languages - yes, sir-nine languages Arabic, Spanish, Greek, Ital—and there's his wife nowshe and Mrs. Madison are always together. Mrs. Madison has taken a great fancy to her little daughter; only think, sir, that child is only six years old, and talks the Italian like a book, by God - little devil learned it all from an Italian servant - damned clever fellow-lived with my brother says he would not part with him for all Tripoli," &c., &c., &c.

ten years

It is now almost one o'clock at night. I must to bed. Remember me to all the lads and lasses, Gertrude, Miss Wilkes, and the bonny lasses in Greenwich street, whose fair hands I kiss.

I am, my dear fellow, yours ever,

144

W. I.

Bouilli is Indispensable

Mrs. Samuel Harrison Smith gives "a small, genteel dinner" for Miss Martineau

(To Mrs. Kirkpatrick)

WASHINGTON, Febr. 4th, 1835

AN

ND now for Miss Martineau, since you desire to hear a little more about her, particularly of the day she passed here. But I really must give you a previous scene which amused me extremely and will not be without some diversion for you. The day previous to our little dinner party, I sent for Henry Orr, whom I had always employed when I had company and who is the most experienced and fashionable waiter in the city. He is almost white, his manners gentle, serious and respectful, to an uncommon degree and his whole appearance quite gentlemanly. "Henry," said I, when he came, "I am going to have a small dinner party, but though small, I wish it to be peculiarly nice, everything of the best and most fashionable. I wish you to attend, and as it is many years since I have dined in company, you must tell me what dishes will be best. "Bouilli," I suppose, "is not out of fashion?" "No, indeed, Ma'am! A Bouilli at the foot of the table is indispensable, no dinner without it." "And at the head?" "After the soup, Ma'am, fish, boiled fish, and after the Fish canvas-backs, the Bouilli to be removed, and Pheasants." "Stop, stop Henry," cried I, "not so many removes if you please!" "Why, ma'am, you said your company was to be a dozen, and I am only telling you what is absolutely necessary. Yesterday at Mr. Woodbury's there was only 18 in company and there were 30 dishes of meat." "But Henry I am not a Secretary's lady. I want a small, genteel dinner." "Indeed, ma'am, that is all I am telling you, for side dishes you will have a very

66

66

small ham, a small Turkey, on each side of them Partridges, mutton chops, or sweet breads, a macaroni pie, an oyster pie."-"That will do, that will do, Henry. Now for vegetables." "Well, ma'am, stew'd celery, spinage, salsify, cauliflower." "Indeed, Henry, you must substitute potatoes, beets, &c." "Why, ma'am, they will not be genteel, but to be sure if you say so, it must be so. Mrs. Forsyth the other day would have a plum-pudding, she will keep to old fashions." "What, Henry, plum-pudding out of fashion?" “La, yes, Ma'am, all kinds of puddings and pies." "Why, what then must I have at the head and foot of the table ?" "Forms of ice-cream at the head, and a pyramid of anything, grapes, oranges, or anything handsome at the foot." "And the other dishes ?" "Jellies, custards, blanc-mange, cakes, sweet-meats, and sugar-plums." "No nuts, raisons, figs, &c., &c.?" "Oh, no, no, ma'am, they are quite vulgar." "Well, well, Henry. My desert is, I find, all right, and your dinner I suppose with the exception of one or two things. You may order me the pies, partridges, and pheasants from the French cook, and Priscilla can do the rest." "Indeed, ma'am, you had best "- "No more, Henry, "interrupted I. "I am not Mrs. Woodbury." . . . But I carried my point in only having 8 dishes of meat, tho' I could not convince Henry, it was more genteel than a grander dinner. He came the next day, and leaving him and the girls as his assistants (for Anna absolutely locked me out of the dining room) I sat quietly in the front parlour, as if no company was expected. Mrs. Randolph, Mrs. Coolidge (Ellen Randolph that was), James Bayard and B[ayard] K[irkpatrick] were the only additional guests to Miss M[artineau] and Miss Jeffrey her companion. About 3, B. K. came. I only was in the parlour, the girls were dressing,

presently Ann came down and told me Miss M and Miss