“The routine of life at the White House which came under my observation, did not vary materially from week to week. The social habits of both Mr. and Mrs. Fillmore were simple and in accordance with those of well-bred people everywhere. Without ostentation or arrogance, they maintained the honor of the high position they were called to occupy, with quiet dignity and ease.
“I was not in Washington the winter Mrs. Fillmore died, and therefore know nothing, except from others, of her illness and death, but I know that she died lamented by all who knew her well, and leaving behind her many pleasant memories.
“Her death was a terrible blow to her family, and to none more than to her daughter, a young lady whose beautiful life and sad death, following so soon upon her return to her own home, made such an indelible impression upon her friends, and for whom all her native city so justly mourned.
“The reverence her son had for her memory proves her to have been a devoted mother, and how tenderly Mr. Fillmore cherished that memory is shown in the sacredness with which he treasures every memento of her. I have heard him say that he has carefully preserved every line she ever wrote him, and that he could never destroy even the little notes she sent him on business to his office.
“Such affectionate regards from the living speak volumes for the dead.”
Lines on the death of Mrs. Millard Fillmore, by Miss Matilda Stuart, on the occasion of her burial at Forest Lawn, April 2d, 1853.
Give room, give room, a friend is here,
She comes to tarry with us now—
And though no greeting on her lips,
No light of gladness on her brow,