creditors, occupy the scene of his past glories until his affairs were wound up. Certainly the highest in the land gave example of the strictest economy, one wavering lamp just enabled us to trace the outline of the handsome Greek portico, while awaiting the tardy answer to the bell. At last peered through the door a dirty Irishman, who, having satisfied himself as to our identity, reluctantly half opened the door to let us through, and then preceded us along some dim passages to the presence-chamber. During this rather lengthy walk I had leisure to admire the Republican simplicity of his attire, which was not only dingy and greasy, but boasted of sundry rents and patches.
This functionary, who united in his ragged person the offices of chamberlain and usher of the white rod, having retired, we amused ourselves by criticising the tawdry furniture and decorations, and studying the by no means prepossessing features of the great Washington, founder of the Immortal Republic.
At length in shambled A tall, uncouth figure, arrayed much in the fashion of Dominie Sampson, in ill-made morning clothes, and with huge feet encased in muddy boots; to my surprise, all around me were doing obeisance to President Buchanan. With head on one side, he advanced, shook hands with ungainly courtesy, and begged us to be seated. His venerable grey locks, hanging in waving masses on his shoulders, and his high, bossy forehead, lent him an air of pseudo-benevolence which his sly mouth belied. The audience soon ended, his extreme caution and reserve freezing all efforts at conversation.
The same awkwardness with which he had made his entrance, marked his exit as he shuffled off the scene.
The winter time is the season of gaiety at Washington, and well the Americans economise every moment. They wisely prefer seeing their friends, to being merely acquainted with the outside of their doors, as so frequently happens in London. Instead, therefore, of packs of cards being exchanged—most fruitless folly—each lady proclaims to her acquaintances which day of the week she will receive from twelve till four, and in that way has the pleasure, not only of really meeting her friends weekly, but also has the option of six days to herself unmolested by visitors.
To give an idea of the working of this system—Monday, all the government ministers’ wives receive; Tuesday, all the senators’ wives; Wednesday, the houses of the diplomates are thrown open; Thursday, the judges’ wives entertain; and so on, from one week’s end to another, all the winter.
In this way those who wish can pay eight or ten visits a day in proportion to the time they wish to kill.
Let me briefly describe a morning reception in the height of the season:
At the door stands the lady of the house, resplendent in the last ultra French fashions, ready with a compliment for every new comer, who must return the same, both capital and interest, and besides assuring her she looks “quite lovely,” must titillate her vanity by insinuating how superior her reception is to the eight or ten he has already visited.
Gratified pride and vanity increased the good lady’s complacency, and being profusely bespattered with compliments, and satiated with flattery, she swims about the room like a peacock on a sunny day, with all its plumes spread for admiration. The visitor having discharged his volley of pretty nothings, then rushes boldly into the busy talking throng, which gives the salon the appearance of an auction-room, as the talkers seldom sit down. Such a buzz as there is, such significant little groups, canvassing with the utmost volubility and vehemence the current topics of the day, the last duel murder, row in the House of the Representatives, or savage onslaught in the Senate.
The young ladies generally cluster round the inevitable refreshment-table, and, while distributing broiled oysters, chocolate, cakes, and wine, keep at least six or eight “beaux” each in full talk. Sometimes, in the largest houses—such as that of the late Senator Douglas, the well-known “little giant,”—the shutters would be shut, the gas lighted, the musicians summoned, and a dance got up, which would last with unflagging energy till six in the evening, when the exhausted dancers found a ball-supper prepared to revive them. To see the pretty girls whirling about, some with bonnets and cloaks on, reminded one too much of Cham’s Illustrations of the “Jardin des Fleurs.” Certainly the à-plomb and conversational powers of the American girl makes her more amusing in society than her English cotemporary. There is, in fact, no “missyism” among them, no striving to attract attention by assumed eccentricity or affectation of fastness. They have the utmost latitude conceded to them: a young “gurle” may talk with one or a score of her admirers all the evening without remark, select from among them the most congenial spirit to escort her to balls and to drive her in his “buggy” of an afternoon along Twelfth Avenue. She generally inscribes the name of the favoured one on her cards, as a hint that he is to be included in her invitations. The card itself is a curiosity, the conventional “Miss” being discarded and Molly Magee or Cynthia Graham simply inscribed on it. But of what use are cards, you will say, as they are never left? I forgot to say that on going to a reception you leave your cards with the “waiter” as you go in, and on the departure of the guests the lady counts them with as much eagerness and delight as a Red Indian counts his scalps.
To return to the young ladies, whose breaches of conventionalities would drive the old dowagers of Mayfair and Belgravia mad, I cannot see as much to condemn in this system of perfect liberty as English people generally do. Girls seem thus to acquire a principle of self-reliance and self-respect, and a greater knowledge of the world and their own position, than they do in England. Men meet them on an equal footing, without dreading a scheming mamma in ambush. Cupid has fair play in the United States, and Hymen does not, as is too often the case in England, light his torch for a heartless contract. The young men prove their good title to the confidence reposed in them, and a father would without scruple send his daughter from New York to New
