The wife of Judge Dent is also lending a helping hand in the ceremonies. She is a Southern woman by birth, and the mistress of all those charms for which the daughters of sunny climes are noted. She is clad in lemon-colored silk, and her person makes a delightful place for the eye to rest upon after long and severe wanderings.
Last, but not least, the brilliant wife of General Horace Porter makes up the group. She is a dazzling little woman, with pearly teeth, all her own. She may be an American, but she looks like a French woman. Her costume is made up of pink and blue, the two colors shaded with an artist’s brush. She is talking to some friend about the “baby left at home,” which proves that Horace Porter is consoled in his difficult position by a very sweet wife and a thoughtful mother.
The guests have begun to assemble, not only in scores, but hundreds. Conspicuous in the throng, towering like a palm in an oasis, might have been seen the majestic form of Sir John Rose, of Canadian fame. His fine old English face seemed alive with festive animal spirits, sound health, and the good results of a long temperate life. He might have been thinking of the solution of the fishery difficulties, but his eyes did not betray the least fishy appearance as they rested upon the fair faces and fine forms of our countrywomen. He remained only a short time, but was spirited away by some member of one of the foreign legations. About the time of the appearance of Sir John Rose the President and Cabinet, with the exception of General Belknap, descended from some unknown region and enlivened the brilliancy of the afternoon. General Grant appeared in a plain working suit, and his manner from the first betrayed business. Whilst he seemed willing to take every fairy by the hand, he was very careful at the same moment to look in an opposite direction. It might be possible that this was a mere political dodge to gain time to be prepared for woman suffrage; at any rate, no delicate creature could have left the Executive presence feeling that she had been particularly favored, and the most perfect gossip present pronounced his manner noncommittal, as usual. In close proximity to the Chief Magistrate might have been noticed the slender scion of a famous stock, in the shape of the quaint form of Secretary Boutwell, of Massachusetts. There seemed to be nothing dangerous in the appearance of the distinguished financier except the immense size of his feet. However, to set the mind of the country aright in regard to the foundation of the national finances, it is here declared, upon highest authority, that Secretary Boutwell’s extremities are precisely like other men’s, but the huge boots have been purposely built to frighten away female applicants for office, and bold impertinent Congressmen. Secretary Boutwell has a fine face, a gracious presence, and can be ornamental at times, as well as useful.
Far away in the offing might have been seen a jolly “iron-clad” who is well known in Washington society as the gallant Secretary of the Navy. No telescope was necessary to see him cruising about, with his main-sail handsomely squared, and his jib-boom set in the right direction. All at once he changes his course and bears down upon a modest little craft that seems entirely unaware of danger. Ugh! it is all over! No lives lost! They have bespoken each other on the wild waters of conversation, and each hurries forward to a different port.
One of the most distinguished women who paid her respects to Mrs. Grant, and honored the large assembly, was Mrs. Jessie Benton Fremont, the better part of the great “Pathfinder,” of Pacific Railroad fame. General Fremont may have found a great many wonders in his terrific exploration, but the best thing he ever did find is “Jessie,” and if he is ever crowned with immortal bays, it will be because in their youth they ran away. Although Mrs. Fremont is below the average height of her countrywomen, she has a royal presence and a queenly face. Neither paint, powder, nor any other artifice of the age conceals or enhances the mischief time has wrought with her features, and her head is crowned with an abundance of snowy hair, but her countenance is lighted up by a pair of brilliant eyes, and the dimples that enchanted the “Pathfinder” still remain.
How shall we manage to get space in The Press to describe the wives of Congress? Every adjective and adverb in the dictionary might be used and the work not then be accomplished. One most noticeable fact in relation to the receptions of the winter is the wearing of last year’s costumes. Very few new dresses are seen, and black silk was worn by nine-tenths of the ladies who went to Mrs. Grant’s reception. A very few trains were seen, but walking-dresses were the rule and long dresses the exception. A great many hats were worn, but the most elegant toilettes were finished by bonnets. Mrs. Hunter, wife of the Major-General, wore a black silk dress and a white satin bonnet; and Mrs. Cresswell, wife of the Postmaster General, wore the usual habiliments of the season. It will be noticed that the taste of American women is becoming more chaste and refined. Visiting suits are sombre; rich high colors are reserved for the evening. But more of this anon.
Olivia.