Part 22

And now we come to the Earl de Gray, the spokesman of the commission. An editorial in _The Press_ has already given the titles which the centuries had constructed for this bit of earthy matter when it should come along. The Earl has inherited four titles, two from his father and two from his uncle, with large estates attached to each. The reader is requested to study Dr. Mackenzie’s article for all useful information, with the exception that the Earl was not described as Knight of the Garter. It may be owing to Dr. Mackenzie’s extreme delicacy in the matter, which is certainly most creditable to his refined and sensitive sex; but when a member of the joint high commission and a man who is said to belong to one of the first families of England appears at the White House, at a dinner given in his honor, with a garter tied around his left leg in plain sight of the ladies present, without any effort on his part to conceal the same, in spite of Dr. Mackenzie’s diffidence, this matter should be carefully unwound. Earl de Gray wore to the President’s dinner breeches that came to his knees, and these were met by black silk stockings that, whilst they concealed, did not hide his finely shaped lower extremities that leave off where his feet begin. The stocking on his right leg kept its place apparently without exterior fastenings; but the left was confined by a striped garter in black and white, held together by a chaste and modest buckle. It is true one of the lady guests was heard to inquire of another if she supposed that his lordship had lost its mate, and when she was told that the noble Earl had received this from the hand of his gracious sovereign, because an English woman had dropped hers in the dance, and that he wore it in deference to this sublime act, tears filled the eyes of the inquirer and she could only talk of the Earl’s great tenderness the remainder of the evening. The Earl de Grey married his cousin, who is a late lady of the bed chamber to the Princess of Wales. His only living child, Lord Goderich, is a young man, 19 years of age, and he accompanies the commission to this country. There is nothing in the personal appearance of Earl de Grey to indicate that the root of the family has pierced the mould below the times of Henry the First. He is a small man, with a head so large that he is inclined to look top heavy, with features that would attract little or no attention if they belonged to a Congressman. If he possesses ancestral pride, he must have left it in bonnie England, for he is distinguished above his associates for republican simplicity of manners. Socially speaking, no words are equal to the situation, and according to the description of our late countryman, Earl de Grey must possess the elegant and dignified ways of Washington Irving. The English nobleman was formerly a member of Parliament, was afterwards appointed Under Secretary of War, in June, 1859, and Secretary of State for War, in 1863, and subsequently for India, and retired in 1866, where he has rested until he was resurrected to do duty with the joint commission.

The Right Hon. Sir Stafford Northcote, Henry of Hayne, County Devon, Privy Councillor, Knight of the Bath, Doctor of Civil Law, Member of Parliament from North Devon, Secretary of State for India, late president of the board of trade, is the eighth baronet of that name, and succeeded to his title the 17th of March, 1851. The book says, “the great antiquity and high respectability of this family are clearly proved, by an ancient and copious pedigree, preserved in the College of Arms, accompanied by a great number of family deeds, fines, wills, etc., to several of which are affixed their seals or arms, which pedigree is continued down to the visitation of 1620, in the reign of King James the First.” It will readily be seen that it is a great blessing to any humble mortal to be born an English nobleman. Earth, sky, and water interest themselves in his favor. Offices of emolument and power hang ripe on the tree, awaiting the time when he shall be old enough to shake gently the branches. Sir Stafford has titles enough to take one’s breath away, but this fact is gleaned from various sources of information. There is no danger for some time of the baronetcy becoming extinct, as Sir Stafford has seven sons. Sir Stafford represents the Tory element of England, and is devotedly attached to the Crown. He is a fine type of the pure Saxon, and with the exception of Sir Edward Thornton the handsomest man of the number, if his size could be increased; but it is noticeable in this commission that the older the family from which the man sprung the smaller the size, which proves that even dust will wear out.

Lord Tenterden, as near as can be ascertained, comes from a new family, his father being the first nobleman of the line. The name of Tenterden does not figure much in books of knight errantry, consequently the reader’s attention is directed elsewhere in order to study this important subject. My lord secretary to Her Majesty’s high commission is rather a fine looking man, with large eyes, and a beard which conceals the entire lower part of his face. He may have a mouth somewhere concealed in the jungle of his mustache, but there is no evidence, so far as we have seen, of any such aperture. He is said to have a thorough understanding of English yachts, and it is thought in Washington that he is on excellent terms with His Majesty the Prince of Wales. It is his duty to record the doings of the high commission, but as he brought along a man to do the work, his place may be considered quite as ornamental as useful. But when he comes to dinner parties the right man is found for the right place. With what open arms his dear American cousins have received him! How they have crammed him with shad and canvas-back! Alas! alas! he must feel like a fat turkey at Thanksgiving time.

Sir Edward Thornton is well known in this country as the English minister resident, and no man connected with the foreign legations is more respected and beloved by our people. He came here an untitled man, having served for many years in various diplomatic positions in different parts of the world. At the time Prince Arthur was in this country he came more immediately under the eye of his sovereign, and she was so pleased with the treatment of her son, and remembering at the same time her great obligations to him as a subject, that she knighted him, and now we have in the place of plain Mr. Thornton, “Sir Edward;” and well he becomes the title, not that he is any different from plain Mr. Thornton, for Nature made him a nobleman in the beginning, but the Queen, with her poor eyes, could not see it until a royal sprig was a guest under his hospitable roof. After all, the Queen only loaned him a title. It is buried when Sir Edward becomes ashes. His boy will be plain Mr. Thornton, and all the better for that. Minister Thornton, like the late Sir Frederick Bruce, has a most distinguished personal presence, owing to his majestic height and graceful manners. Then he retains that exquisite purity of complexion for which the English belles are celebrated, and our American climate, so conducive to parchment and wrinkles, labors upon his handsome face in vain.

Sir John A. MacDonald is another of Her Majesty’s commissioners whose title dies with the man. Sir John’s father was a merchant in Kingston, Canada, who came to America when this son was only 6 years of age. When only 15 years old the latter left school and began the study of law. When 21 years old he was admitted to the bar; soon after he turned his attention to politics, and in 1844 was elected member for Kingston in the second parliament of United Canada. When two years and a half in Parliament he was appointed a member of the cabinet. During the time of our civil war there was agitation in regard to the dismemberment of Canada. Sir John was one of the strongest advocates for the union of the provinces. He was also a leading participant in the secularization of the church property, which dissolved the connection of church and state in Canada, and in the adjustment of the troublesome seigniorial rights. In one of his addresses he said: “The fraternal conflict now unhappily raging in the United States shows us the superiority of our institutions, and of the principle on which they are based. Long may that principle--the monarchical principle--prevail in this land. Let there be no ‘looking to Washington,’ as was threatened by a leading member of the opposition last session; but let the cry with the moderate party be: ‘Canada united as one province and under one sovereign.’”

Sir John has received his title for his devotion to the interests of the Crown, as exemplified in the various delicate duties assigned to him. In person he is above the medium height, with a regular cast of features; and he has that frank, ingenuous manner not usually conceded to such polished men of the world. Sir John is the only member of the English part of the commission who brings his wife. He tarries in the shadow of the aristocratic Arlington, but the remainder of the commission are quartered at the superb Philip mansion on K street, opposite Franklin Square, where, with a large retinue of servants, dogs and horses, the fire of an English home is kept burning. This house is one of the largest and finest private residences in Washington. The extensive drawing room has a waxed floor, relieved in sundry places by exquisitely finished velvet rugs. Pictures of English landscapes look down from the lofty walls. “I didn’t know they had such comfortable houses in this country,” said one of the royal blood. “It must have been made expressly for our use,” chimed another. It is simply an elegant American home, planned by an English-born American citizen, who, out of deference to his late countrymen, resolved that they should carry away from his adopted country something sweet and savory in the shape of pleasant recollections.

OLIVIA.

A DISSERTATION ON DRESS.

PROPER PROCEDURE FOR MEMBERS OF THE SELECT CIRCLE OF SOCIETY.

WASHINGTON, _March 18, 1871_.

In a social way the doors of the White House have closed for the season. The beginning of Lent has heretofore marked the abrupt decline of the star of Fashion, but this year the days of folly have been lengthened, in consequence of the necessity of extending hospitalities to the British part of the joint high commission. Recent receptions may be compared to autumnal flowers trying to bloom after the coming of frost. The carpets at the Executive Mansion begin to show the result of the wear and tear of a winter’s campaign, and a dingy pall seems to wrap all the other surroundings. Mrs. Grant looks weary and worn, and, though her manner is kind and engaging as ever, it is plain to see that she will be glad when this universal handshaking is over. One becomes thoroughly exhausted in vain attempt to feel satisfied with the foam and froth of Washington’s fashionable dissipations. The same envy, heart burnings and petty jealousies exist here as in monarchical courts. There may be a small quantity of genuine comfort in a modern dinner party at the capital, and yet there is room for grave doubts. Suppose you are invited to a dinner at the White House; you must remember that every rule and regulation is prescribed. When you receive your invitation you know exactly what chair you will occupy at the table. Soon after your arrival you will receive a card which will inform you which “lady” you are ordered to take to dinner. This woman sits by your side. You are obliged to be civil whether you are inclined to be or not. You are expected to say solid, substantial things after the soup. You are expected to avoid everything weak and watery after the fish. Sly and delicate humor must be sandwiched between every course. Suppose this woman, though good enough in her way, is exactly the one you would flee from if the wind was fair, and the coast clear? There are women in Washington of rare conversational powers; queenly in manners, and kind of heart; but they are scarce, and the number can be counted without using any number beyond the digits.

There is to be a fashionable crush or reception at the Cabinet minister’s home. In order to keep it within the bounds of mathematics cards of invitation have been issued. Is it possible that a Cabinet minister means to pack his house so densely? Every available inch of standing room is occupied. The stairs resemble seats in an amphitheatre, with its tier of heads, one rising above another. The lights in the showy chandeliers burn with that dim blue flame sometimes noticed in mines down deep in the earth. There is a faint, deathly odor of undying perfumes. The music sounds as though it were afar off in the heavy atmosphere. If the mansion were a prison, and the inmates therein wretches of high and low degree, could the imagination picture a more horrible situation? But let it be remembered that this medley is made up of silk, satin, lace and jewels, snowy shoulders and distinguished men. Everybody is polite and refined; wit sparkles, women laugh, and if one must be pressed to atoms, no more charming death could be devised. Did the Cabinet dame invite all these people to her hospitable mansion? Nay! Never! She scattered abroad a suitable number of invitations. Some of the people who received these cards took the liberty to ask a friend, or perhaps more; and thus it will readily be seen that if many of the invited guests take such liberties the company is doubled, and sometimes quadrupled by the license usurped by what is called “fashionable society in Washington.” The writer has known of an instance where a member of Congress and his wife received cards for a Cabinet reception. They attended, accompanied by nine guests by their own invitation. The time will come when such entertainments must be done away with. None but men of immense wealth can accept such positions unless they have the fearlessness to emulate the simple life of George S. Boutwell. And yet how can an honorable, high-minded man accept legions of civilities and never have anything to offer in return?

The social fabric of Washington is reared upon the foundation prepared for it by George and Martha Washington. It was good and excellent for those days, when the wise and prudent Martha, and the wives of the Cabinet ministers, could return the visits of their friends in a single day. More than three-quarters of a century have gone, and society after that style is ready for the sickle. Last winter the wives of the Cabinet ministers met in solemn council and decided that visits would not be returned for the reason that the sun and moon could not be made to stand still, and the days were not long enough for the hundreds of demands made upon them. The most beautiful, gifted, and accomplished woman in Washington shortened her days in order to meet the insane, exorbitant demands made upon her by the tyrant Fashion. Mrs. Belknap once said to the writer: “It would not matter so much if I omit visiting a Senator’s wife, but it would pain me exceedingly if any person thought they were neglected on account of their obscurity. If I get well, this matter must be explained, and I know the people will understand it.”

Heretofore the ladies who move in what is called Washington society, with the exception of Mrs. Grant, have been expected to return their calls. For the first time in social history, the Cabinet dames, who are a law unto themselves, have decided otherwise. In a little time the wives of the Senators will enact the same law, for they are already beginning to feel their chains, and some of the boldest assert that life is too solemn and earnest to be wasted in a giddy whirlpool of dissipation.

Among the accomplished women no longer seen upon the topmost wave of society may be mentioned Mrs. General Williams, better known as Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas, and the elegant wife of Senator Sprague. Both have known what it is to reign as “Queen of Beauty and Fashion,” and both have retired before the noon of life to the substantial comforts and enduring peace to be found only in the smooth waters of domestic life.

The most perfect entertainments of the winter have been given at the handsome mansion of Senator Chandler. A card reception at a Senator’s residence partakes more of the nature of a private party, consequently painfully crowded rooms are avoided. For this reason the finest toilettes of the winter are brought out, because they can be worn without danger of serious damage. The costliest dresses of the winter have been sported by Mrs. John Morrissey and Mrs. Fernando Wood. Mrs. Morrissey wore a black thread-lace dress, over heavy white moire, with solitaire diamonds only for ornament, at the Corcoran ball. Mrs. Morrissey has never been seen in general society in Washington. A party given by the Chinese embassy, and Mr. Corcoran’s entertainment planned to complete the Washington monument, as well as to make the beau-monde merry and glad, are the only social places known to the writer where the Hon. John Morrissey and his pretty, unobtrusive wife have been seen.

The rarest dress noticed this winter has been worn by Mrs. Fernando Wood. Take up your finest collar, my lady reader--“old point,” by the way. Now imagine a whole dress, with any quantity of ferns and palms running over it--waist, sleeves, skirt, all complete--with pink silk underneath. Could anything more exquisite in the shape of a dress be conceived? Stop a moment. Let us see! It certainly bears inspection. Let us move away and examine it as one would a picture. We are writing for a newspaper, and the truth must be told. It looks at this distance as if Mrs. Wood had rolled herself up regardless of expense in one of her own parlor window-curtains.

It is true that silk is worth its weight in silver the world over. We might as well talk of cheap silver as cheap silk. When we buy a heavy dress for a small sum of money we are paying for dye-stuff, and the dye-stuff we buy very soon destroys the silk. But costly as the article is with which we love to decorate ourselves, it is within the reach of every industrious single woman in the country. It is worn as every-day apparel by the fashionable women of Washington. When a dress becomes too well known, or has lost its freshness, it is taken for every-day wear. This is a great mistake for more than one reason. By making silk so common it detracts from its elegance and beauty. The only difference between a woman in full dress and when she is not--in the first instance she wears a clean garment, and in the latter, one that has seen the vicissitudes of life. Oh! blessed are the charms of the laundry. Better all cotton than all silk.

Because silk is so common, fashion has decided that the superior excellence or elegance of a woman’s wardrobe must consist in her rare and costly laces. But against this extravagant innovation good taste has set her face. A moderate amount of lace adds additional charms to a handsome dress, but when we come to make the entire garment of the material the effect is lost. Queen Augusta, of Germany, who ranks next to Eugenie in matters pertaining to the toilet, prefers tulle dresses to wear over her silks and satins. Sometimes these are ornamented with field grasses, at least this was the case in her younger years. In latter days her tulle garments are trimmed with pearls. The most exquisite taste delights in simplicity. The more barbarous a nation the more it revels in gorgeous and costly ornament; but when every American woman lays her earrings aside forever the tranquillity and peace of the Republic is assured.

OLIVIA.

MEETING OF OCCIDENT AND ORIENT.

RECEPTION OF THE IMPERIAL EMBASSY OF JAPAN BY PRESIDENT GRANT.

WASHINGTON, _March 4, 1872_.

Another interesting ceremony has taken place which marks an epoch in the civilization of the world. To-day the Occident and the Orient has an official greeting. The fluttering petticoats of the East have bowed before the scant, ungraceful pantaloons of the West, and history records the performance. The event was stately and solemn, and nothing occurred to mar or disturb the feelings of those present, except the cold and disdainful way in which the press was treated. These scions of republican royalty were kept outside, whilst such crumbs of information fell to our lot as the powers that be chose to bestow.

Before the magic hour of 12, for the royal time of day was chosen, ten of the Japanese highest in power, accompanied by Mr. Mori, the Japanese minister, descended from their carriages and in single file marched slowly into the Executive Mansion. Previously everything had been prepared for their reception. The broad halls and the great vestibule had been reduced to excruciating neatness. The air was laden with the odor of tropical exotics. Above the central part of the great ottoman, in the Blue Room, arose a pyramid of flowers composed of Japanese lilies, birds of paradise, and the long, dreamy, pendant leaves of the Eastern fern. Daylight, which was not considered quite good enough for such an occasion, had been carefully excluded, like the press, but, like this mighty engine, it managed to struggle in, or at least enough of it for all practical purposes.

Whilst all these things were in preparation Secretary Fish came rushing in and seized an unfortunate servant, who had accidentally put the right flower-pot in the wrong place. This was quickly adjusted and the Secretary left the place. Then Mrs. Secretary Fish, swathed in pearl-colored silk, trimmed with the costliest lace, sailed through the rooms. A lackey followed her with fear and trembling. As near as could be ascertained in the distance, the hair on his head stood upon end. All at once dulcet sounds were heard, “Take it away.” The servant stood terror-bound until the lady said: “Too much mignonette. We cannot be too careful. Perfume is a good thing in the right place. The danger is, everything is becoming too common.” The flower-basket was removed, and the rooms were pronounced all ready for the ceremony.

First of all Secretary Robeson sailed in, and following in his wake were the heads of the Navy Department, in their brilliant regimentals. As these were not the men who distinguished themselves in the late war, the people have no care to hear about them. But their shining shoulder-straps and other finery helped to make the occasion brilliant, the same as a shoal of dolphins at sea on a hot summer’s day. Secretary Robeson looked as handsome and happy as could be expected.

Then came Minister Boutwell, in white choker and pale pearl-colored kids, closely followed by that interesting old greenback known as General Spinner. Then Spinner was brought up by the heads of the Treasury Department, and they stretched out until it seemed as if it was intended they should represent the “crack of doom.”

Then came the handsome Saxon Secretary of War, with his officers, followed by Cresswell and the Post Office, and Attorney-General Williams and his “heads.” The heads of the Attorney-General’s office are men who have blossomed, fruited and now ought to be gathered and put in the cellar for future use. Delano, of the Interior, was there with his force, the most dignified magnate present.

Spilled around promiscuously were Judge Holt, Cameron, Casserly, with nose at an angle of forty-five degrees; Banks, with a new shade to his hair, called “Paris in Ashes;” Professor Henry, with any amount of electricity in his pockets; Speaker Blaine and Colfax--dear Colfax! who came out and said he felt sorry for the press; he knew how it was himself before greatness was thrust upon him.