I received your favor of the 14th ultimo in due time, and thank you for the information it contained, all of which was interesting to me.

In regard to your coming to London with Colonel Lawrence and his lady, should he be married in February next, I have this to say: Your passage at that season of the year would, unless by a happy accident, be stormy and disagreeable, though not dangerous. I have scarcely yet recovered from the effects of the voyage, and should you be as bad a sailor as myself, and have a rough passage, it might give your constitution a shock. The month of April would be a much more agreeable period to cross the Atlantic; and you would still arrive here in time for the most fashionable and longer part of the fashionable season.

It is my duty to inform you that a general conviction prevails here, on the part of Lord Palmerston, the secretary of the interior, and the distinguished physicians, as well as among the intelligent people, that the cholera will be very bad in London and other parts of England during the latter part of the next summer and throughout the autumn. They are now making extensive preparations, and adopting extensive sanitary measures to render the mortality as small as possible. The London journals contain articles on the subject almost every day. Their reason for this conviction is,—that we have just had about as many cases of cholera during the past autumn, as there were during the autumn in a former year, preceding the season when it raged so extensively and violently. Now this question will be for your own consideration. I think it my duty to state the facts, and it will be for you to decide whether you will postpone your visit until the end of the next autumn for this reason, or at least until we shall see whether the gloomy anticipations here are likely to be realized.

I still anticipate difficulty about my costume; but should this occur, it will probably continue throughout my mission. It is, therefore, no valid reason why you should postpone your visit. In that event you must be prepared to share my fate. So far as regards the consequences to myself, I do not care a button for them; but it would mortify me very much to see you treated differently from other ladies in your situation.

If this costume affair should not prove an impediment, I feel that I shall get along very smoothly here. The fashionable world, with the exception of the high officials, are all out of London, and will remain absent until the last of February or beginning of March. I have recently been a good deal in the society of those who are now here, and they all seem disposed to treat me very kindly, especially the ladies. Their hours annoy me very much. My invitations to dinner among them are all for a quarter before eight, which means about half-past that hour. There is no such thing as social visiting here of an evening. This is all done between two and six in the afternoon, if such visits may be called social. I asked Lady Palmerston what was meant by the word “early” placed upon her card of invitation for an evening reception, and she informed me it was about ten o’clock. The habits, and customs, and business of the world here render these hours necessary. But how ridiculous it is in our country, where no such necessity exists, to violate the laws of nature in regard to hours, merely to follow the fashions of this country.

Should you be at Mr. Ward’s, I would thank you to present my kind love to Miss Ellen. I hope you will not forget the interests of Eskridge in that quarter. You inform me that Sallie Grier and Jennie Pleasanton were about to be married. I desire to be remembered with special kindness to Mrs. Jenkins. I can never forget “the auld lang syne” with her and her family. Give my love also to Kate Reynolds. Remember me to Miss Hetty, or as you would say, Miss Hettie, for whom I shall ever entertain a warm regard. I send this letter open to Eskridge, so that he may read it and send it to your direction.

From your affectionate uncle,

James Buchanan.

As the court was not in London at the time when this letter was written, the portentous question of Mr. Buchanan’s costume was not likely to be brought to an immediate solution. But early in February, (1854), Parliament was to be opened by the queen in person. Mr. Buchanan did not attend the ceremony; and thereupon there was an outcry in the London press. The following extract from a despatch to Mr. Marcy gives a full account of the whole matter, up to the date:

You will perceive by the London journals, the Times, the Morning Post, the News, the Morning Herald, the Spectator, the Examiner, Lloyd’s, &c., &c., copies of which I send you, that my absence from the House of Lords, at the opening of Parliament, has produced quite a sensation. Indeed, I have found difficulty in preventing this incident from becoming a subject of inquiry and remark in the House of Commons. All this is peculiarly disagreeable to me, and has arisen entirely from an indiscreet and rather offensive remark of the London Times, in the account which that journal published of the proceedings at the opening of Parliament. But for this, the whole matter would probably have passed away quietly, as I had desired.