The inauguration of General Grant as President of the United States placed his wife in the exalted social position of Mistress of the White House. Mrs. Grant’s first reception on the 4th of March, 1869, marked the passing away of just fourscore years since Mrs. Washington so gracefully dispensed the ceremonious hospitality of the Executive Mansion.

Her husband being the youngest man who has occupied the Presidential office, he consequently carried with him into the White House the novelty of a family of youthful children, and a wife who was still possessed of the ambition to shine in society, and who enjoyed the blandishments and excitements of high social position.

The prestige of General Grant’s military reputation added increased lustre to his new position, and, consequently, could but render any triumph of political life the more signal, since his experiences had been of a widely different character. Upon Mrs. Grant, therefore, devolved the pleasure of performing a twofold part, in the discharge of which the people of this country from the beginning have desired her entire success. Unobtrusively and quietly she entered upon her duties as hostess of the White House, and devoted her attention as in the past to her husband’s interests. She entertained personal friends and relatives in large numbers, and not one of her old acquaintances was neglected or overlooked by her in those her days of unbounded prosperity and happiness. Very kindly the press of the nation referred to her, and always, upon every occasion, she so conducted herself as to dignify the name she bears, and to gratify her countrywomen. As wife and mother she is greatly admired, and in both these relations she is a credit to the sex and an honor to the nation she has represented so well. The moral atmosphere of the Presidential Mansion was a matter of congratulation to the American people, and they do not forget that the personal influence of Mrs. Grant had much to do with impressing this characteristic of her husband’s administration upon the world at large. She is essentially a good woman, and as daughter, sister, wife, and mother, she has been all that could be desired, and has in an eminent degree fulfilled the promise of her early years, and the predictions then made for her by her friends.

Mrs. Grant is a Missourian by birth, and her early years were spent on her father’s farm, Whitehaven (now the property of her husband), near St. Louis. Her father, Judge Dent, was a man of position and importance, and his son was, at the time now referred to, a cadet at West Point. Through her brother Miss Dent made the acquaintance of his classmate, and in the course of events very naturally this young couple, mutually pleased with each other, plighted their troth. The match was not particularly pleasing to the parents of Miss Julia, and it was with no little satisfaction that they saw the young officer ordered to frontier duty with the army under General Taylor. Once out of sight they hoped that their daughter’s feelings would undergo a change, and that she eventually would make a more brilliant match. But events occurred which endeared him to the family, and when, to crown all, young Grant saved the life of Lieutenant Dent in Mexico, the objections of the family gave way and they unconditionally surrendered. The constancy of the young people was rewarded after an engagement of five years, when, on the 22d of August, 1848, they were married. The wedding took place at Judge Dent’s residence in St. Louis, and a merry one it was to all concerned. After the festivities the young bride accompanied her husband to Sackett’s Harbor, on Lake Ontario, and after a stay there of six months, removed with him to Detroit, where he was stationed for more than two years. They kept house in a little vine-covered cottage near the barracks, and lived in the most unpretentious style. During their residence in Detroit, Mrs. Grant made a visit to her parents in St. Louis, and during her stay their first son, now Lieut.-Colonel Fred. D. Grant, was born. Two years later, and while the father was on the Pacific coast, Ulysses, the second son, was born at the residence of his paternal grandfather, in Bethel, Ohio. The other children born of this union are Nellie, the only daughter, and Jesse; the former in August, 1855; the latter in 1858. Both of these were born at their grandfather Dent’s country home, near St. Louis, the birth-place of their mother.

After Captain Grant’s resignation, in 1854, he returned to Missouri, poor and disheartened, and with no prospects before him. His father-in-law, to assist him, gave his wife a farm of sixty acres, and here for several years he fought poverty with his plough and axe—poor weapons, indeed, for one born to wield the sword, and educated in a military school. Of course he failed, and leaving “Hardscrabble,” the title which he had himself given to the scene of such hard and unrequited labors, he entered the real estate office of a cousin of his wife’s in St. Louis. He began his career as agent without a hope of success, and but for his family would doubtless have thrown up the position in despair. Nothing sustained him in all these years of bitter adversity and uncongenial surroundings but the hopefulness of his wife and the unaffected and unchanging faith she had in him. It nerved him to renewed effort, and animated him with fresh zeal each time that he faltered in his rough pathway. Her affection was appreciated by him in return, and his tenderness and fidelity was such that to them poverty was less terrible to bear than it was to their friends to witness. But there were four little mouths to feed, and the father felt that yet greater effort must be made for them. His wife did all the work of their home, and yet with the most frugal care he could not meet his expenses.

In the spring of 1860 he paid a visit to his father at Covington, Kentucky, to take counsel with him concerning his future, and to plan some new way to struggle for bread. His father owned a valuable business at Galena, where two younger brothers were making money, and into this establishment went the unfortunate ex-captain on a salary of six hundred dollars a year. Moving his little family to Galena, he commenced work in the tannery which has since been made famous by his association with it. Poverty went with him to his new home, and what had been “hardscrabble” on the little farm, and in St. Louis, was hardscrabble still; he could not meet expenses. Twice his salary was increased, yet he could not afford to keep any help, and his wife was maid of all work, and nurse and teacher of her children as well.

The business did not grow more congenial to the husband, though he tried his best to do his duty in it, and worked many times as hard as would have been necessary had he loved his task. Possibly, one reason of his unpleasant position was due to the fact that his brother, who was thirteen years his junior, was his employer, and as the success of the business was due to the enterprise of this brother and another still younger, the place he held, and which he could not satisfactorily fill, grew daily more disagreeable and unpleasant.

The twelfth of April, 1860, the day of the fall of Fort Sumter, and the death-knell of slavery, was the turning point in the life of Captain Grant, as it was to many thousands of others, both North and South. But to no one man in the nation has it proven of such personal significance as to him.

He was soon appointed captain of a volunteer company raised in Galena; afterwards was made colonel, and later, through Gov. Washburne’s influence, he received the appointment of brigadier-general. From this time he rapidly rose to distinction and recognition. Mrs. Grant and the children were at her father’s or visiting his father’s family at Covington, during these first years of the rebellion; she caring for her husband’s honor and studying his interest in every possible way.

While General Grant was in command at Cairo, just after the battle of Belmont, and while his promotion to a major-generalship was being discussed, a relation of his said to her: “Ulysses may get along as brigadier, but he had better be satisfied with that and not seek to rise higher.”

“There is no danger of his reaching a position above his capacity,” she replied, indignantly. “He is equal to a much higher one than this, and will certainly win it if he lives.” And this was the recognition she always gave him, and to this fearless advocate of his worth he was indebted for much of the material help he had received from both his and her family. In this time of success—though as well of anxiety—she repeatedly defended him, and more than once brought smiles to the faces of her friends by saying: “Mr. Grant has great natural ability, he would fill any public position well if he once had a chance.”

After the capture of Fort Donelson, while yet the country was ringing with praises of her husband’s exploits, she visited him at that point, and later she paid him a visit at Jackson, Mississippi. Just after the surrender of Vicksburg she was in St. Louis, where she was serenaded by a great concourse of people, and in response to their repeated demand she appeared on the balcony of the hotel, leaning on the arm of General Strong. The moment she came in view the people greeted her with vociferous cheers. She was beginning to be made aware of the exalted place her husband had won in the admiration of the people, and for the first time she was sharing with him the dignity of the place to which he had risen.

Several weeks were spent with her husband at Vicksburg, and then, when his head-quarters were established at Nashville, she removed her children there, and remained in that city until after his appointment as lieutenant-general, making during the time a visit to St. Louis.

The implicit confidence Mrs. Grant reposed in her husband has long ago been rewarded, and there is now no one to question his ability as a military officer. But there was a time when her faith in him was in marked contrast to the opinions entertained by his and her relatives. They had seen him fail at farming and in the leather business, and a man, in their opinion, who could not make money in either of these pursuits, was not likely to reach success in anything.

But his wife was loyal to him, and, when asked by a party of ladies her opinion concerning her husband’s new responsibilities and prospects, just before the battle of the Wilderness, she replied:

“Mr. Grant has succeeded thus far, wherever the Government has placed him, and he will do the best he can.”

“Do you think he will capture Richmond?”

“Yes, before he gets through: Mr. Grant always was a very obstinate man.”

With the return of peace General Grant settled in Washington City, where his head-quarters as commander-in-chief of the army were established. His family were, for the first time in many years, again with him, and they greatly appreciated the three years of comparative rest they enjoyed. But they were destined to play a still higher part in the national life. General Grant, the idol of the people after Lincoln, and the most successful general of the age, was elected President of the United States.

Mrs. Grant parted reluctantly with her own home and prepared to take up her abode in the White House, but it was not before the fall of the year that she settled down to the routine life there, and prepared to perform the duties expected of her.

The first three years passed away pleasantly and without any very great éclat. The President’s household was accounted an eminently happy one, and there was always in the house some one or more of his own or his wife’s kindred. But the children were at school, and there was less of gayety than when, later, Miss Nellie made her début into society, and the young cadet son had returned from West Point, and was his sister’s escort and companion.

The family travelled a great deal more perhaps than that of any other of the Presidents. Every summer they spent at the sea-shore, and now Long Branch is their permanent home in the warm season. The children travelled abroad during their father’s administration, the daughter receiving the most distinguished attentions while in England and elsewhere; and when at home their young friends gathered about them, eager to enjoy the pleasure of their company and the hospitalities of their splendid home.

But the event that drew the American people to the President and his household, as nothing else could have done, was the marriage of his only daughter. Mrs. Grant and Nellie became, from the moment her engagement was announced, the most interesting persons in the nation. What will the mother do for her child that shall be befitting the occasion? was the question the young and old of the sex asked of each other all over America. And grave old men, who had long ago forgotten the excitements of their own wedding days, caught the prevailing infection and became interested in the sole daughter of the house, soon to be an inmate of it no longer. Mothers’ hearts ached with Mrs. Grant’s over the thoughts of the long separation, for Nellie was to marry an Englishman and live in England; and when at last the time drew near for the nuptials, the entire nation became interested spectators of an event which they could not but feel was the most pleasing, and yet the most sad act of all the grand drama of the double administration.

Nellie Grant’s was the seventh wedding which had taken place in the White House. President Monroe’s daughter, Marie, and President Tyler’s daughter, Lizzie, among others, had passed out from it as brides, and now, more than thirty years later, this youngest of the Presidents saw his only daughter wedded in the famous East Room, on Thursday, May 21st, 1874. The wedding took place under circumstances of peculiar brilliancy. Mr. Algernon Sartoris, the groom, was, at the time of his marriage, twenty-three years of age, and Nellie was nineteen. He had been educated in England and Germany, and was a son of Mr. Edward Sartoris, of Hampshire, England, and his wife, Adelaide Kemble, daughter of Charles, and sister of Fannie Kemble.

Nellie Grant had led an exceptionally happy life, and for ten years previous to her marriage had been the recipient of the most distinguished attentions. Her father’s position, and his rapidly increasing wealth, had enabled him to gratify every wish of his daughter, and as if to reward the fidelity of his wife in years past, he surrounded her children with every earthly blessing. It seemed only strange that one so situated, and withal so young, should consent to marry and retire to private life. But the love affair, begun on the Russia, was destined to terminate auspiciously, and eighteen months afterwards the young couple were united. The wedding was the finest ever known in Washington, and was the theme of newspaper comment both in this country and Europe. All that affection, wealth and high social position could devise were combined to make it an event that should fittingly express the love and pride of the parents in their only daughter.

Not more than two hundred guests were present, but they represented the officials of the government and their families; the army, navy and marine corps and their families; the diplomatic corps and personal friends. The floral decorations of the house were superb, those of the East Room being the richest. The bridal party was accompanied by the President and Mrs. Grant, and the brothers of the bride, to New York, from which port the young couple sailed for England.

The summer was passed by the President and Mrs. Grant at Long Branch, and in the autumn the social life of the White House was resumed. Colonel Fred. Grant introduced his bride (Miss Honore) during the season, and the winter passed off pleasantly, though the daughter of the House was missed sadly.

The eight years’ social administration of Mrs. Grant was characterized by great elegance and dignity. All official and social observances were conducted on a scale of magnificence, and the mansion itself was richly furnished—costly plate and decorations were supplied, and the entertainments were on a more elaborate scale than had marked previous administrations. Among the social events of an official character that occurred were receptions and state dinners in honor of the Duke of Edinburgh, of England, the Grand Duke Alexis, of Russia, the King of Kalakaua, and the first Chinese Ambassador. The official entertainments were frequent, and the social career of Mrs. Grant as Lady of the White House closed with one of the most brilliant receptions ever given in it. After leaving the White House, ex-President and Mrs. Grant became the guests of Secretary and Mrs. Fish, and during their stay in Washington were the recipients of continued social attentions.

It had been the long-expressed desire of General Grant to visit Europe, and soon after the close of his administration he began the preparations for an extended journey. Returning from a visit to Galena, he arrived in Philadelphia a week previous to the day appointed for the departure of the steamer, and with Mrs. Grant became the guests of George Washington Childs, Esq. The most flattering attentions were bestowed upon them. Military parades, public receptions, and private entertainments followed each other in quick succession. The vessel selected by General Grant on which to make the voyage was the “Indiana,” one of the only American line of steamships crossing the Atlantic ocean. On the morning of the departure Mr. Childs entertained at breakfast a number of guests, including the late Secretary of State, Hon. Hamilton Fish, General Sherman, Governor Hartranft, and others, and afterwards the party, augmented by the presence of a large number of prominent gentlemen, proceeded down the Delaware. Mrs. Grant, accompanied by the youngest son, Jesse, who made the tour with them, Mr. and Mrs. Childs, Mrs. Sharp—Mrs. Grant’s sister—and many other ladies and gentlemen were taken down the river to the “Indiana” on the revenue cutter “Hamilton.” Arriving at New Castle after a sail of thirty-five miles, the voyagers bade adieu to their friends and boarded the steamer. The scenes which accompanied the ex-President and his family from the moment of leaving the hospitable mansion of Mr. Childs to the farewells at the vessel were such as never before had been witnessed in this country. Thousands of people lined the wharves and the air resounded with their cheers. The shipping was gayly decorated, and the flags of all nations floated in the breeze. Steam-whistles blew their shrill notes, and salutes were thundered forth from the larger vessels as the ex-President and his friends passed down the river to their vessel. The party sailed on the 17th of May, 1877, and from the moment of landing on English soil they were welcomed with generous hospitality by all the nations they visited. Over the continent of Europe, through Egypt, the Holy Land, and back through Italy, Spain, Ireland and India, to China and Japan they travelled, and were everywhere the objects of distinguished hospitalities. The return voyage to San Francisco was completed in September, 1879, and the reception at San Francisco was of such magnitude and enthusiasm as to greatly surprise the ex-President. The people, without respect to race or party, joined in the hearty welcome home. The festivities varied each day, and every city in the Union sent invitations to the ex-President to extend his travels to all parts of his own country. One of the pleasantest incidents connected with their stay in San Francisco was the visit of a delegation of the Chinese of that city to General Grant, and the presentation to him of an address and a scroll of worked silk. General Grant, in acknowledging the great kindness and hospitality shown him by the people and authorities of China, expressed the hope that the country, by breaking down the seclusion in which she had been shrouded for ages, would continue to draw nearer to her the trade and sympathy of the civilized world. The head of the delegation then presented to Mrs. Grant a small ivory casket, saying that she had done much to break down the spirit of domestic exclusiveness that reigns in China, and that the Chinese in San Francisco desired to thank her for it.

This circumstance recalls an exceptional honor paid Mrs. Grant while in China, an honor the like of which no other woman has ever shared. And though she received distinguished attentions in all her travels, she remembers this as one of the most marked and most pleasant incidents of her journeyings over the world. The occasion was a dinner given by the wife of the Viceroy of China. In view of the fact of the exclusiveness of the Chinese as a race, and the position of woman in that country, it is one of the events of the age. Mr. John Russell Young, the historian of the travellers, gives an entertaining description of it,^[23] from which is taken the following excerpt:

“It was a radical thing for the Viceroy to throw open the doors of his house and bring the foreign barbarian to his hearth-stone. This dinner was arranged for our last night in Tientsin, and in honor of Mrs. Grant. The principal European ladies in the colony were invited. Some of these ladies have lived in Tientsin for years and had never seen the wife of the Viceroy—had never seen him except through the blinds of the window of his chair. The announcement that the Viceroy had really invited Mrs. Grant to meet his wife, and European ladies to be in the company, was even a more extraordinary event than the presence of General Grant or the arrival of the band. Society rang with a discussion of the question which, since Mother Eve introduced it to the attention of her husband, has been the absorbing theme of civilization—what shall we wear? I have heard many expositions on this theme, but in Tientsin it was new and important. Should the ladies go in simple Spartan style: in muslin and dimity, severely plain and colorless, trusting alone to their graces and charms, and thus show their Chinese sister the beauty that exists in beauty unadorned; or should they go in all their glory, with gems and silks and satins and the latest development of French genius in the arrangement of their hair? It was really an important question, and not without a bearing, some of us thought, on the future domestic peace of the Viceroy. The arguments on either side were conducted with ability, and I lament my inability to do them justice, and hand them over to the consideration of American ladies at home. The discussion passed beyond me and entered into the sphere of metaphysics, and became a moral, spiritual—almost a theological theme, and was decided finally in favor of the resources of civilization. The ladies went in all the glory of French fashion and taste.

“No gentlemen were invited to the Viceroy’s dinner, and the Viceroy himself did not entertain his guests. It was arranged that the ladies should go in chairs. Of ladies there were in all, Mrs. Grant, Mrs. Detring, Mrs. Denny, Mrs. Dillon, Mrs. Forrest, Mrs. Dorian, and Miss Denny. It was a distance of two miles to the Yamen, and the streets were filled with a curious multitude watching the procession of chairs, and having their own thoughts, we can well fancy, at this spectacle of the vice-regal home invaded by the wives of foreign barbarians. It was quite dark when the ladies reached the Yamen. They alighted in a courtyard illuminated with lanterns, and crowded with officials in their quaint costumes. The band of the ‘Richmond’ had been sent ahead by Captain Johnson, and as our ladies arrived they were welcomed with the familiar notes of home music. The Viceroy also had a band, and the musical effect of the two styles of music—the Chinese running largely to gongs, and the American with trumpet and drum—was unique, and added to the strangeness of the ceremony.

“As Mrs. Grant, who was in the first chair, descended, she was met by the wife of the Viceroy, who took her hand and escorted her into the house. The other ladies were shown in by one of the missionary ladies, who came to act as interpreter. They passed through a sort of hall into a small library. The walls of this library were cut up into pigeon-holes, filled with Chinese books made of soft, tough paper. The Viceroy’s wife took her seat at the head of the table, and as each lady entered she was introduced by the interpreter. The hostess arose and shook hands with each in cordial European fashion, with perfect grace, and as though it had been her custom all her life to use this form of salutation. There were two other ladies of the vice-regal family present, the daughter of the Viceroy, a maiden of sixteen, and his daughter-in-law, a lady of twenty-three. They sat at the opposite end of the table from the hostess, looking on with curious interest at the company of foreign ladies, the first they had ever seen. Still they restrained their curiosity, showing no wonder, no surprise, and received their European friends with as much ease as if they had been accustomed to a London drawing-room. The daughter-in-law of the Viceroy was dressed in subdued colors, much the same as the hostess, but the maiden was brilliantly costumed in a bright pink satin jacket, and green satin trousers, the whole embroidered with gold thread, and silk of a variety of colors. At every movement she tinkled with her abundant ornaments of pearl and jade, which hung in long pendants from her ears, wrists, fingers, and the cord of her fan. She wore two long gold finger-nail shields on the third and fourth fingers of her left hand, a curious ornament made necessary by the custom of high-bred persons in China of allowing the finger-nails to grow. Both of the young ladies wore their hair ornamented in the same manner as the wife of the Viceroy.

“The company sat in the library about ten minutes. During this time they were served with strong pale tea, without sugar or milk, in tiny porcelain cups. Then, at a gesture from the hostess, the ladies arose and walked into another room, a larger one, the hostess conducting Mrs. Grant. Crowds of servants swarmed about, and other crowds of curious persons looked in at the windows and doors at the unusual spectacle. The dining-room was furnished in European fashion, with divans and chairs. A chandelier of four gas jets hung over the centre of the table, and was an object of curiosity to all, as Tientsin has not yet attained to the blessing of gas. The dinner table was set in European style, with silver and French china, and decorated with a profusion of flowers. The ladies took seats according to the rank of their husbands, Mrs. Grant sitting on the right and Mrs. Denny on the left of the hostess. Each of the ladies had her own servant who waited on her. The dinner was a blending of Chinese and European cookery. First came a European course. Then came a Chinese course, served in silver cups with small silver ladles and ivory chopsticks. Smaller silver cups in saucers sat at each plate, filled with the warm Chinese wine which you find at every dinner. The ladies tasted their Chinese food with fortitude, and made heroic efforts to utilize the chopsticks. The Chinese ladies partook only of their own food. The hostess kept up a conversation with all the ladies. First she asked each one her age, which in China is the polite thing to do. I have no information as to the responses elicited by this inquiry, the sources of my knowledge failing at this point. Then questions were asked as to the number of children in the families of the married ladies, and the age of each child. The younger Chinese ladies of the party sat at the other end of the table, and having no interpreter made themselves understood by signs—by graceful little gestures of the hand, nods, questioning eyes. It is wonderful how much talk can be done by pantomime, and the Chinese ladies with their quick intelligence soon found themselves in earnest conversation with their European friends. During the dinner there was a Chinese Punch and Judy show, and the noise of this entertainment, with the chatter of the servants, and the curious gazing crowd who never left the doors and windows, made an unceasing din. China has democratic customs and privileges which are never invaded. Whenever General Grant and party dined as the guest of a Chinaman, in Canton, or Shanghai, or Tientsin, it was always in presence of a multitude. If the people were to have the doors closed upon them, even the doors of the Viceroy, it would make trouble. And now, of all days in the calendar of China, this day when female barbarians are welcomed to a nobleman’s house, it is important that all the world should stand by and see the wonder.

“The hostess, with a gesture and smile of welcome, drank from her cup of warm wine a toast to her friends. The ladies sipped their wine in response. This astonished the hostess, who had been told that it was the custom of barbarian ladies to drink their glasses dry. But it was explained that while some ambitious gentlemen in foreign society ventured upon such experiments, the ladies never did. The hostess wondered at this, and seemed to think that somehow it would be more like what she had heard if the ladies drank more champagne, if they drained their glasses and turned them upside down. Then the jewels were passed from hand to hand to be examined by the Chinese ladies. This study of jewelry, of diamond and emerald, of ruby and turquoise, occupied most of the time that remained to the dinner. Once or twice the tall form of the Viceroy could be observed looking over the heads of the crowd to see how his wife and foreign friends were enjoying themselves. When observed his Excellency withdrew. Although not appearing during the dinner, nor at the reception before, the Viceroy was now and then seen moving about among the curious gazers, evidently anxious about his feast, anxious that nothing should be wanting in honor of his guests.

“After the dinner the party went into another room. Here was a piano which had been brought from the foreign settlement. This was a new delight to the hostess, who had never seen a piano, and she expressed her pleasure and surprise. One of the pieces was a waltz, a merry German waltz, and two of the ladies went through the measures, giving variety to the dance by balancing separately with one arm akimbo, the other holding up the skirt, then twirling away to different parts of the room and coming together again. This revelation of barbarian customs created great astonishment, and when the dance stopped there was a chorus of approbation from the Chinese, as if they had discovered a new pleasure in the world, the hostess nodding and smiling with more energy of manner than she had shown during the evening. This performance was witnessed by the Viceroy, who perhaps had his own thoughts as a far-seeing statesman as to what China would become if German music ever found its way into Chinese households, and mothers and maidens gave way to the temptations of the waltz. There were snatches of singing, one of the ladies who had an expressive voice warbling some roundelay from the Tyrol. This created another sensation, and was so new, and strange, and overwhelming that the Chinese maiden in the dazzling pink jacket lost her Oriental composure, and gave a faint start and laughed, and fearing she had committed some breach of propriety, suddenly recovered herself and coyly looked about to see if she had in any way given offence to her barbarian guests. The hostess, however, sat by the side of Mrs. Grant during the whole performance, and looked on as calmly at these strange phenomena of an unknown civilization as if she had known the waltz and heard Tyrolean ditties all her days. The hostess, with high-bred courtesy, always arose when her guests did, and never sat down until they were seated. The feet of the Chinese ladies were extremely small—scarcely more than two or three inches long—and when they walked it was with difficulty, and only by the aid of the waiting-women who walked behind. A Chinese lady of rank does nothing without the aid of servants. If she wishes to take a handkerchief out of her pocket a servant performs the office. But during the whole evening, at every phase of the reception and the entertainment, the hostess showed a self-possession and courtesy that might have been learned in the drawing-rooms of Saint Germain. She took pains to show attention to every one. When the time came to leave she went with Mrs. Grant to her chair. When the others left she took her leave of them at the door, and they parted with good wishes and polite little speeches of thanks and welcome.”

Mrs. Grant has the distinction of having travelled more than any other lady who has graced the White House, and of having received at the hands of foreigners more attention than has fallen to the lot of any other American lady. In her tour she was the guest of the heads of the government in all countries, and participated in hospitalities of crown heads and the representative nobility. Her life from the period when her husband became the victorious general of the army, has been one of high social rank, and the years as they have passed have brought her many blessings. She has known public honors and domestic happiness, and is a most fortunate woman. She has sought her chief pleasure in life in the family circle, and her reward has been found in their happiness. The White House under Mrs. Grant’s social administration was a delightful home, and was ever the abode of many relatives and friends who shared in the many pleasures it afforded. An atmosphere of pleasant social life was felt by all visitors at the Executive Mansion, and though Mrs. Grant was not particularly fond of society, her stay in the White House is remembered as a period of great gayety in Washington. She was identified with the events of the administration in all semi-official ways, and was as popular in society as any of the women who had preceded her. A wife and mother, she was occupied with the duties pertaining to domestic relations, and divided her time between her public and private obligations. In this respect of having twofold duties to perform she was like all the wives of the Presidents, and with one exception the White House has known no lady differently situated. Harriet Lane was untrammelled with domestic cares when she presided there, and was moreover a great belle. Society claimed more from her than it ever did of any other lady, and the circumstances attending her life there made it the most marked in many respects that has yet been chronicled. Mrs. Grant’s deep interest in the success of her husband, and her commendable desire to have her countrywomen satisfied with her administration as hostess, were motives sufficiently impelling to incite her to every exertion necessary to the accomplishment of her purpose, and she has the satisfaction of knowing that her career was approved. In her domesticity, which is her leading characteristic, and with her strong sense and practical ideas, she had ample armor of protection against mistakes, and she lived eight years in the White House as serenely as she would have done in Galena. It is to her credit that her sons, grown to manhood, pay her marked attentions, and that she is to them the ideal mother. To be approved by one’s friends is comfort, but to be adored by one’s children is to be crowned with the most imperishable of earthly diadems. When Mrs. Grant appeared in sight of the people of San Francisco, she was leaning on the arm of one of her boys, who had gone out to meet her, and it was a pleasing sight to those who saw the tender devotion of the son to his long absent mother. General Grant was in the hands of the committees who were to show him honor, but his wife was accepting homage far more satisfying. Her mother’s heart was far more touched by the welcome she received than any other that could be given her. It is this womanly quality which has influenced her to be a less conspicuous figure than her position lent her opportunity for being. She has not cared to be recognized apart from her husband, but to be identified with him, and while this trait is an admirable one, it has none the less conspired to limit rather than enlarge the acquaintance of the public with her. But she is a woman approved by her sex, and her record is one that her sister-women will always admire. She has enjoyed great honors, and abused none of her gifts, and her name will ever be associated in terms of praise with that of the country’s second military President, and the most successful general of his day. Her life is yet in its summer, and the laurels bestowed upon her are bright and undimmed, and for a long time yet she will be in the enjoyment of them. Whatever future awaits her she will meet it with dignity and appreciative consideration of the exceptionally brilliant position she has filled.