XVIII.
MARY ABIGAIL FILLMORE.
The only daughter of President Fillmore was, during her father’s administration, in consequence of her mother’s ill-health, the Lady of the White House, and as such deserves more mention than the limits of this sketch will allow. She was remarkable for her mental and intensely affectional nature, and discovered during her brief life only those traits which served to render her a source of interest and admiration. As a child, she was precocious; latterly in life, her physical health was so entirely good that it overcame every tendency to brain ascendency.
She was well fitted, by education and a long residence in Washington, to adorn the high station she was destined to fill, and acquitted herself there, as in every other position, with great dignity and self-possession.
Her talents were varied, nor was she a dull scholar at anything she attempted. With the French, German, and Spanish languages, she was thoroughly conversant; so thorough, indeed, was her mastery of the former that a French professor declared her accent equal to that of his own countrymen.
Her taste for sculpture was fostered by association with a loved schoolmate, the since renowned Harriet Hosmer.
Had her life been spared, she would have become famous through the exercise of some one of the many talents given her, but in less than a year after her mothers death she, too, passed away. Her father and brother were left alone for a few days, that she might go and see her aged grandparents. From this journey she did not return. A message in the night-time roused her parent from his slumber to hasten to her, and though no time was lost, it was too late. She was nearing the golden gates of the spirit-land, when those two of a once happy band reached her bedside.
So full of life and health had she been but a few short days before, and so entirely unconscious of any illness of body, that she anticipated a visit of great pleasure; after her death, a memorandum of house-work to be performed while she was absent, was found in her basket, she expecting to be gone but a few days.
The obituary notices are so complete that I am constrained to quote them in lieu of my own imperfect material, believing they discover a more thorough acquaintance with the subject than I can gather through other sources.
“The character of Miss Mary Abigail Fillmore, daughter of ex-President Fillmore, whose sudden death was announced yesterday, deserves a more extended notice. Though young—being but twenty-two years of age on the 27th day of March last—she was widely known.
“Being a native of the city of Buffalo, most of her life had been spent here, where she had a numerous circle of sincere and devoted friends. From her early childhood she evinced great talent and industry, combined with judgment and discretion, and softened by a cheerful and affectionate disposition, which made her with all a safe and welcome companion.
“As an only and much beloved daughter, her parents were resolved to give her an excellent, practical education. As they were unwilling to spare her from the little family circle, she received much of her primary education at our excellent public schools, and the higher branches, with the modern languages, music, drawing, and painting, were taught her by private tutors. That she might learn, away from home, something of the world without imbibing its vices, and be taught self-reliance under judicious restraints, she was sent for a single year to the celebrated select family school of Mrs. Sedgwick, in Lenox, Massachusetts. She left that school, feeling the necessity of an education not merely of grace and ornament, but which should, in case of a reverse of fortune, place her beyond that degrading and painful feeling of dependence which so often renders the life of a female in this country one of wretchedness and misery. She therefore expressed a desire to attend the State Normal School and qualify herself to be a teacher. This she could not do without assuming an obligation to teach. To this requirement she readily submitted and entered the school.
“Graduating at the end of six months with the highest honors, she was then employed as a teacher in the higher department of one of the public schools of Buffalo for three months, where she exhibited an aptitude and capacity for teaching that gave entire satisfaction. But the death of General Taylor and the consequent elevation of her father to the Presidency, compelled his family to relinquish their residence here and remove to Washington. This introduced her into a new sphere of action, but she moved in it with the same apparent ease and grace that she would have done had she been bred in the midst of the society of the Federal city. At the close of her father’s official term, she was destined to suffer a heart-rending bereavement in the death of her excellent and devoted mother. She returned with her father and brother to their desolate home in this city, and by her entire devotion to the duties thus suddenly devolved upon her, she relieved her father from all household cares, and exhibited those high domestic and social qualities which gave a grace and charm, as well as system and regularity, to the home over which she presided. She again called around her the friends of her childhood and early youth, for no change of fortune had in the least impaired her early attachments—attachments which she continued to cherish with unabated ardor and devotion. The home of her bereaved father had once more become cheerful and happy, for her whole mind and heart were given to promote his happiness and that of her only brother, and they repaid her devotion with the kindest and most grateful affection.
“She had some weeks since promised a visit to her grandfather, at Aurora, about seventeen miles from this city. She went from here in the afternoon of Tuesday last in good spirits and apparent good health, and she reached Aurora in the evening. She appeared well and cheerful on her arrival, and after conversing with her grandparents she retired to rest about nine o’clock.
“She was soon after attacked with what proved to be the cholera; but unwilling to disturb the family, she called no one until after 12, when a physician was immediately sent for, but alas! too late. A messenger was dispatched for her father and brother, but they only arrived to see her breathe her last, unconscious of their presence. She died about 11 o’clock on Wednesday morning. The effects of this crushing shock upon her fond and devoted father and her affectionate brother may perhaps be imagined, but cannot be described.
“Her remains were immediately removed to Buffalo and interred yesterday in the Forest Lawn Cemetery by the side of her mother. She was followed to her last resting-place by a numerous concourse of sorrowing friends.
“In the absence of the Rev. Dr. Hosmer, her pastor, the Rev. Dr. Shelton officiated in the funeral services.”
“We yesterday announced in the usual terms the death of Mary A. Fillmore. The sad event seems to demand some expression of our esteem for her character, and of our grief at the heavy loss. We would not, indeed, obtrude our consolations upon those hearts, broken by so sudden a calamity, whose sorrows human sympathy can only pity in reverent silence, nor do we expect either to soothe or express the feelings of that intimate circle of friends which her many attractions had drawn around her. But the contemplation of her virtues is a relief to friendship, and we shall perform a most useful duty, if, by a slight sketch of her character, sincerely and simply drawn, others shall be inspired to the pursuit of similar excellence. Miss Fillmore’s character was written upon her face. It was not beautiful, yet it was so full of vivacity of intellect, of cordiality, and of goodness, that it attracted more than any beauty, and as it rises before us now its expression only suggests the simple thought,
In that character were mingled, in just proportion, almost masculine judgment and the most feminine tenderness. Its leading feature was excellent common sense, united with great vivacity of temperament, genuine sensibility, and real intellectual force. With a keen sense of the ridiculous, overflowing with wit and humor, all her views of life were nevertheless grave and serious, and she saw clearly beneath its forms and shows in what consists its real happiness, and devoted herself to the performance of its duties, with all the energies of a powerful will, and the fidelity of the strictest conscientiousness. This fidelity to her own sense of duty had led her most carefully to cultivate all of her talents; and it is no exaggeration to say that she was among the most accomplished young women we have ever seen among us.
“She was, for her years, uncommonly familiar with English literature; spoke the French language with ease and elegance, was well versed in Italian, and had lately made great progress in her German studies. She had much taste in drawing, but had mostly abandoned that accomplishment for music; because, as she said, the latter gave greater pleasure to her friends, and she was a skilful performer both upon the piano and the harp. Shortly before her death, she had begun to pay some attention to sculpture, and had got her materials together for self-instruction in this highest branch of art. It affords an instructive lesson upon the use of time to know, that she had perfected herself in all these studies and accomplishments since her father’s accession to the Presidency, and in the leisure moments of a life almost devoted to society. In Washington, the etiquette of the place and her mother’s feeble health combined to devolve upon her, almost unaided, the entire performance of the social duties incident to her father’s station. She was but a young girl fresh from school; but all admired the self-possession, the tact, and the kindness with which she filled the position allotted to her; and how, young and retired as she was, society in her presence became something more genuine and hearty, as if ashamed of its false mockeries in the light of her sagacious mind and honest heart.
“She was eminently social, and latterly her conversational powers were of the first order. She had read much; her advantages had been great, and she had reaped their entire fruit. She was a keen but kind observer of character, had been familiar with men and women of very various ranks and descriptions, and she would paint to the life the very interesting events which she had witnessed, and the character of the many distinguished persons with whom her fortune had made her acquainted. Full of information and of spirits, more anxious always to listen than to talk, yet never at a loss, even with the dullest, for something pleasant and entertaining to say, with a countenance beaming with honesty and intellect, and with a sweet cordiality of manners which invited at once confidence, affection, and respect. No wonder that wherever she went she became the centre of a circle of friends who loved her most tenderly, and at the same time looked up to her as one of a stronger mind and heart, as a guide and confidante.
“She was a genuine tender-hearted woman. Observant of all the forms of elegant life, yet with the most utter contempt for its mere fashions; kind and attentive to all, yet without one point of sympathy with merely worldly people, she loved her friends with all the affection of a strong and ardent nature. She never saw or read of a kind or noble deed that her eyes did not fill with tears.
“She clung to her old friends without regard to their position in life, and her time and talents seemed devoted to their happiness; she was thinking constantly of some little surprise, some gift, some journey, some pleasure, by which she could contribute to the enjoyment of others. ‘Blessing she was, God made her so;’ and with her death, with many of her friends is dried up forever the richest fountain of their happiness.
“She was reserved in the expression of her religious views. As is natural with youthful and independent minds, she had little comparative respect for creeds and forms, perhaps less than she would have manifested in maturer years, but her intimate friends knew that she was always governed by a sense of religious duty, that her relations to her Creator and her Saviour were the subject of her constant thought, and that she trusted for her future happiness to the kind mercies of a benevolent Father, to the conscientious improvement of all her talents, to a life devoted to deeds of kindness, and to a heart as pure and unspotted as a child’s. At home—ah! that house, all ‘emptied of delight,’ over which she presided with so much dignity and kindness, that forsaken parlor where all the happiness that social life can give was wont to be so freely and hospitably enjoyed; the weeping servants—those bleeding and broken hearts—let these tell what she was at home!
“But she is gone! and young though she was, she has accomplished much. She has done much to lay the foundation in our midst of a mode of social life more kind, genuine, and cultivated than most of what is called society; and she has left behind her the example of her life, which, though most private and retired, will always be a blessing to her friends, and through them, we trust, to a wider circle for many coming years.
“Farewell!