I have your bright, cheerful letter of Jan. 31st, dear sister, and rejoice in your good spirits. I have not been quite well for a few weeks, suffering from cold—the weather has been so dreadful—so that I have gone out but little; indeed, there seems to be a gloom over everything in the gay line this year. Archbishop Hughes dined with us on his way to the United States. He spoke of remembering me in Washington at uncle’s, where he never saw me, and of course it was you. We have given one large dinner this year, and I am sorry it is time for them to commence. Our old butler, Cates, was ill at the time, and on last Tuesday the honest old creature died. We all felt it very much, as he was a capital servant, and so faithful—my right-hand man. We dined two and twenty on the 10th, English and Americans, and it passed off very well. Wednesday was “fast-day,” and universally unpopular. They said, “we fast for the gross mismanagement by the ministers of our affairs in the Crimea,” and all such things. There is great satisfaction at the czar’s death, and not the same respect paid by the court here that there was in France. Mr. Appleton, our new Secretary, has arrived, and will be presented to her Majesty on Monday. On Thursday, the 29th, will be the first drawing-room. I shall not go. It will not be a full one, as it comes before Easter, and it is rumored that the Emperor and Empress of the French are coming in April. Unless required to present Americans, I shall not go to more than two this year. It is so expensive—one cannot wear the same dress twice. There are usually four during the season.
I have given up all idea of returning home before June, and most likely not until uncle does in October; but I highly approve of your plan to pay us a visit upon our return. As to my going to California, you know how I should like it for your sake, but uncle would never hear of my taking such a journey.[journey.] It is different with you; you return to see every one......
April 20th, 1855.
I have yours of February 28th, and am delighted to hear you are so snug and comfortable. Uncle positively talks of my return in June, and he has really been so good and kind that if he thinks it best, I must not oppose it. He is not going to charge me with any money I have drawn, makes me a present of my visit here, and has gratified me in every thing. He gives up his house on the 7th of July, and will go to some place in the country, near London. If he kept it until October, he would have to pay for several months more, and it will economize a little to give it up—every thing is so enormous here. I hope you have better luck about getting to church, as I think you have been living very like a heathen. Much obliged for the postage stamps. There are some alterations in the postage law lately; every thing must be prepaid.
The emperor and empress arrived here on Monday last, and went immediately to Windsor. All London is mad with excitement and enthusiasm, and wherever they move throngs of people follow them. Yesterday they came to Buckingham Palace, and went into the city to be present at a magnificent entertainment at Guildhall. There never was such a crowd seen. In the afternoon at five they received the diplomatic corps at the French Embassy, and I had a long talk with her Majesty, who was most gracious and affable. She is very striking, elegant and graceful. She wore a green silk, flounced to the waist with seven or eight white lace flounces, white lace mantle, and white crape bonnet and feathers. We go to the palace to-night to an evening party, and there I shall even have a better opportunity of seeing them. I was disappointed in the emperor’s appearance—he is very short. Last night they accompanied the queen, in state, to the opera, and there was a grand illumination all over the city. I drove out to see it, but there was such a crush of carriages, men, women and children, that I was glad to get home. They were asking from fifty to one hundred guineas for boxes at the opera, and from ten to forty for single stalls. To-morrow the imperial guests depart, and London will again return to its sober senses. There does not seem to be much gaiety in prospect, but really this visit seems to be the only thing thought of. The Masons are not coming to pay me a visit. Betty has gone to Nice with her father, for his health. It is said the queen will go to Paris at the opening of the exposition in May. Ellen Ward’s marriage is postponed until the fifth of June, by her father’s request. Mr. T. writes he has taken a state-room on the Baltic, which was to sail on the 18th. He has talked of this visit so long that I would not be surprised to hear it ended in nothing. Lu has every thing planned and fixed and destined to take place just as she wishes, even that I am to be married in my travelling dress and very quietly. I was at the Crystal Palace on Tuesday, which is truly the most fairy-like and exquisitely beautiful thing that could be made. The royal party go there to-day. The building far exceeds in magnificence the one erecting now in Paris. Mr. —— has lost his favorite sister, and is in great distress, so I have not seen him for a time. I have made another conquest, who comes in the true American style, every day. He is rich and keeps a yacht, which costs him £2000 a year. Beaux are pleasant, but dreadfully troublesome......
May 3d, 1855.
I have yours, dear sister, of March 16th, and really your account of the failures and rascals among your Californians is quite frightful......
London is looking up in the way of gaiety, though the war is still a sad weight upon many hearts. Yesterday (Wednesday) I attended the second drawing-room of the season. You remember I was not quite well at the first, and did not go. It was a very full and brilliant one. I wore a pink silk petticoat, over-skirts of pink tulle, puffed, and trimmed with wreaths of apple blossoms; train of pink silk, trimmed with blonde and apple blossoms, and so was the body. Head-dress, apple blossoms, lace lappits and feathers.[[20]] There will be one more in celebration of the birth-day on the 19th. Her Majesty was very gracious to me yesterday, as was also the prince. On Wednesday next there is to be a state ball at Buckingham Palace, which we shall of course attend. On Monday Mrs. Shapter and I ran down to Brighton on the sea-side, and returned on Tuesday night. We enjoyed it very much, and I am sure the change was beneficial to both. I had two splendid rides upon horseback along the water. Mrs. Shapter goes away for a week on Saturday, and I shall miss her dreadfully. You have doubtless heard of the attempt to assassinate the Emperor Napoleon since his return from London. The diplomatic corps are invited to be present at the singing of the Te Deum in the chapel of the French Embassy on Sunday next, in celebration of the emperor’s escape......
I have seen ——, and he ordered his gardener to send me from the country all the roses he had in bloom, for the drawing-room. Preceding the box came a sweet little note, which I of course answered in a tender way. Mr. ——, the man of the yacht, is getting quite desperate, as he is ordered to join his regiment for a month. He is constantly sending me flowers, and after his visit to-day, despatched a magnificent bouquet. He is a very nice fellow, and I really am sorry...... Uncle of course knows and sees every one who comes to the house, and places such confidence in me that he gives himself no uneasiness. I have as many beautiful flowers now, as my drawing-room can well hold. I wish I could see you, dear Maye, and hope you can come home for a nice long visit when we return. June is still talked of for my return. I do not know how it will be. My best love to Mr. B.
Friday, July 13th, 1855.