The reaction that followed the inauguration in Washington was, as usual, intense. The season was more than usually warm, and the Congress fled from the Capital. Mrs. Taylor was never visible in the reception-room; she received her visitors in her private apartments, and escaped all observation from choice. Once established in her new home, she selected such rooms as suited her ideas of housekeeping, and, as far as was possible, resumed the routine that characterized her life at Baton Rouge. As was her merit, she attended personally to so much of it as affected the personal comforts of the General, and it was not long before the “opposition” found fault with her simple habits, and attempted, but without effect, to lessen the public esteem felt for General Taylor, by indulging in offensive personalities.

General Taylor was, from principle and choice, an abstemious man. On the sixth of July, the dullness of Washington was enlivened by the presence of Father Mathew, the Apostle of Temperance. To know him, General Taylor invited him to the White House. The press discussed this honorable notice of the great philanthropist, and spoke of “Miss Betty” as presiding at the reception with unusual grace and affability.

The winter following opened officially and fashionably with the commencement of Congress. There was then in the Senate, Clay, Webster, Calhoun, Benton, Cass, and lesser but still shining lights. Mr. Fillmore presided over the body with dignity, and such an array of talent and statesmanship divided the public mind with the claims of the White House.

Few official receptions were given. The excitement attending the admission of California—the fiery eloquence of Mr. Clay—the attack of Mr. Calhoun or Mr. Benton, and the growls of disappointed office-seekers, divided the current that might have otherwise flowed on to the Executive Mansion, and it is apparent that this created no regrets in the minds of the ladies of the President’s House. It was soon understood that set, formal, and official dinners were not coveted, and they were not encouraged. But social and unceremonious visits prevailed beyond any precedent, and Miss Betty was always ready to dispense the honors of her exalted position, with a grace and frankness that was constantly securing for her a wide circle of admiring friends. Thus the first winter of General Taylor’s term passed away.

To those who were familiar with the actual life of the White House, it was apparent that a change had gradually taken place in the feelings of the female inmates. Mrs. Taylor had gradually abandoned much of her personal superintendence of domestic matters, and Miss Betty had assumed the manner of one who began to appreciate the importance of her social elevation. The embarrassments that General Taylor suffered from the betrayal of “false friends” had the double effect, to make the members of his family more devoted to each other, and at the same time created a resolve to more ostentatiously perform the duties of their high social position. A revolution, political and social, had been resolved upon without the parties interested being aware of the change. This new era was inaugurated by the ladies of the President’s House having a reception on the 4th of March, 1850, in honor of the inauguration. The affair was of singular brilliancy. It was remarked at the time that the ladies never appeared to better advantage; the rustling of costly dresses and the display of diamonds were paramount, while the gentlemen, for the time being, eschewing the license of Republican institutions, accepted the laws of good society, and appeared in dress coats and white kid gloves. General Taylor surprised his friends by the courtliness and dignity of his manner. Some of his soldiers who saw him in his battles said there was mischief in his eye. He was evidently attempting a new rôle, and doing it with success.

Miss Betty, as hostess, was entirely at her ease, and made the ladies by her affability feel at home in the National Mansion. For the first time, at the public receptions, she led off in conversation, and her remarks were full of quiet humor and good sense. The following day, the papers expressed their admiration in different ways. “Miss Betty” was complimented with the remark that, in manner and grace at a public reception, Victoria could not surpass her. General Taylor, it was said, “had at last determined to open the campaign for the second term, and those about him, who were intriguing for the succession for others than for himself, would have to stand aside.” These suspicions were justified by constantly repeated rumors that Cabinet changes would be made that would entirely change the character of the general Administration. Mr. Webster began now to visit the White House, and was treated with marked consideration by its female inmates. The influence of the ladies of the White House began to be felt in political circles, and what had been for the preceding year a negative, now became a positive power. Gentlemen who had distinguished themselves for the early advocacy of General Taylor’s election, but who had received no recognition, were now welcomed to the White House. It was evident that a radical change had come over its inmates. General Taylor seemed at last to begin to understand his duties, and knowing them, he commenced their performance with the same zeal and determination that marked his military career. Four months of spring and summer passed away. The seventy-fourth anniversary of our national Fourth of July was approaching. It was decided that the event should be celebrated by the laying of the corner-stone of the Washington Monument. General Taylor accepted the invitation to be present without hesitation, and surprised his friends at the pleasure he evinced at the opportunity.

The day was unusually warm and oppressive for Washington City. The procession out to the banks of the Potomac moved slowly, and General Taylor suffered with the intense heat. Upon taking his seat upon the stand, he remarked that he had never before experienced such unpleasant sensations from the sun, much as he had borne its unshielded rays in the swamps of Florida and Mexico. General Foote was the official orator, and Washington Parke Custis took part in the proceedings. It was noticed that General Foote addressed to General Taylor many of his most pointed remarks in praise of Washington. The papers of the day said that “when the orator quoted from a letter of Hamilton to Washington, protesting against his refusing to serve a second term, President Taylor, who sat on the left of the orator, roused from his listless attitude, as if desirous of catching every word.” “Perhaps,” added a reporter, “General Taylor was thinking what would be his conduct in a similar emergency.”

From the celebration the President returned to the White House, and to relieve himself from the terrible thirst the heat had occasioned, in accordance with his primitive tastes, he partook freely of cold water and fruit. In less than an hour he was seized with symptoms of a fearful sickness. The announcement that the President was prostrated by indisposition, struck the people of Washington with prophetic terror, for the news went from house to house, as if presaging the fatal result. General Taylor, after the first paroxysms were over, seemed to anticipate that he would never recover. He yielded to the solicitations of his physicians, and the efforts of his afflicted family to assist him. On the evening of the third day of his sufferings, he said:

“I should not be surprised if this were to terminate in death. I did not expect to encounter what has beset me since my elevation to the Presidency. God knows, I have endeavored to fulfil what I considered to be an honest duty; but I have been mistaken, my motives have been misconstrued, and my feelings grossly betrayed.”

Mrs. Taylor, who heard these remarks, for the first time admitted to herself the possibility of her husband’s death. She then recalled, in the bitterness of her soul, the remark she made when it was announced to her that possibly General Taylor would be President: