The quiet of her life here was interrupted by gay visits to Philadelphia, New York, Pittsburgh, Washington, and Virginia. Wherever she went, she left hosts of friends, and never came home without bringing with her scores of masculine hearts. Indeed, their former owners often followed them and the young lady, in hopes of obtaining her hand in exchange. She remained, however, “fancy free,” until her heart was touched by the love-tale of Mr. Johnston, whom she met at Bedford Springs, during the annual visit made there by herself and Mr. Buchanan.
WHEATLAND—THE HOME OF PRESIDENT BUCHANAN.
Mr. Johnston was a young gentleman of Baltimore, fresh from college honors, manly, frank, and kind—full of enthusiasm, and as demonstrative as youth and Southern blood make an earnest man when deeply in love.
Geranium leaves exchanged in those golden days of youth—withered surely in the lapse of time, and, one would fancy, long since cast aside—are worn by Miss Lane and her husband in memory of a dawning affection of which neither could have foreseen the end.
Miss Lane’s brothers lived in Lancaster. One of them married there. Her sister Mary, who had been married to Mr. George W. Baker, also resided in Lancaster, and was much with Harriet until her removal to California. It was during her absence, in 1852, that Mr. Buchanan went as Minister to England, taking Miss Harriet Lane with him.
No more illustrious man than James Buchanan had ever been sent to represent his country at the court of the greatest empire of the world. His fame as a statesman had preceded him. To the public men and educated classes of England his name was familiar, for he had been one of the most conspicuous figures in the United States for the third of the century. No citizen of this country had ever held so many great stations as he. His life had been crowded with the gravest public employments. Apart from his reputation as a statesman, he had won the highest encomiums at the bar. For ten consecutive years he had sat in the lower house of Congress. As Minister to Russia, he had negotiated our first commercial treaty with that empire. In the Senate of the United States he had stood for years in the foremost rank of those mighty men whose statesmanship and eloquence made that body, thirty years ago, the most dignified assembly on earth. When he resigned his seat as a Senator, it was to become Secretary of State, and during that period, when he held that position, he refused a seat on the Supreme Bench of the United States, urged upon him by Mr. Tyler, and afterward by Mr. Polk. His name had, for half his lifetime, been associated with the Presidency. When he went to England, it was at the earnest solicitation of Mr. Pierce, who was unwilling to trust the settlement of the great questions then at issue between the two countries, to any hands less able than his, and it was well believed by many friends that, his work abroad completed, he would return to take possession of the Executive Chair.
In the blaze of this reputation, and led by the protecting hand of one so illustrious, did Harriet Lane make her entrance into English society.
And now she became publicly identified with Mr. Buchanan. At dinners and upon all occasions, she ranked, not as niece, or even daughter, but as his wife. There was, at first, some question on this point, but the Queen, upon whom the blooming beauty had made a deep impression, soon decided that, and our heroine was thenceforward one of the foremost ladies in the diplomatic corps at St. James.
Her first appearance at a Drawing-room was a memorable occasion, not only to the young republican girl herself and her uncle, but to all who witnessed her graceful and dignified bearing at the time. Notwithstanding her youthful appearance, it could scarcely be credited that she, who managed her train so beautifully, appeared so unconscious of the attention she attracted, and diffused her smiles in such sweet and courtly manner, had never before been in the presence of royalty.