Mrs. Patterson is the first instance of the wife of a Senator and a daughter of the President presiding over the Executive Mansion. President Jefferson’s second daughter, Mrs. Eppes, held a similar position, but she never presided over the Mansion, and was but once a visitor at the President’s house during her short life, after her father’s election. The threefold responsibilities were accepted and endured with a calm reliance, on the energies of a mind ever ready for the occasion, and the world has already rendered the verdict of “many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.”
Simple but elegant in her apparel, never descending to a disregard of place, yet not carried away by the follies of fashion, Mrs. Patterson pleased the eye, and gratified the pride of all who felt an interest in her success. Golden opinions of her taste were won by the rich simplicity of her toilet on every public occasion, and the beauty of her dress in part consisted in the artless, unassuming manner of the wearer.
In the combined elements which go to form the marked character of Mrs. Patterson, she was not unlike Mrs. John Adams, and her will-power, guided by superior common sense, recalls to mind the life of that brave woman of the Revolution; but the current of circumstances into which she has been thrown, has been almost too strong to allow her perfect freedom of action. In her life there has never come a time when she might choose between diverging pathways; but if she could not alter the stern fiats of fate, she had the power of dignifying little insignificant things, and, by her manner of meeting them, making the pleasantest side appear. In an eminent degree she inherits that most marked trait of her father’s character, patient endurance, and knows “how sublime a thing it is, to suffer and be strong.” Treading unmurmuringly the appointed way of life, she depends upon her judgment to guide her bark, recognizing the fact that when nature fills the sails the vessel goes smoothly on; and when judgment is the pilot the insurance need not be high.
In the higher walks of literary pursuits she will never shine, nor yet as a conspicuous person in any department of life. She has essentially a Southerner’s love of home; and the duties devolving upon her as a mother, daughter, and wife, fill the meed of her ambition. True to principle, she will perform the duties of her station, be it high or low, and the amount of courage hidden away in the recesses of her nature would lead her in emergencies to dare—if need be—to die.
Simple to a fault in her desires, she has learned to gather happiness from within, and to rely upon the cold charity of the world for nothing. She would not pine for luxuries which others deem necessities, but even rather scorns the value many set upon them. Reared as she was in childhood by parents remarkable for ceaseless industry, she imbibed the lessons taught her by example, and is energetic to restlessness, and vigilant in working while the day lasts.
During the impeachment trial of her father, Mrs. Patterson was asked what she thought of it, and how it would terminate. “I have so much to do,” she replied, “that I have no time to discuss the subject, and I suppose my private opinion is not worth much; I do not know how it will end, but all we can do is to wait.” And she did wait, bending every energy to entertain as became her position, and wearing always a patient, suffering look. Through the long weeks of the trial, she listened to every request, saw every caller, and served every petitioner (and only those who have filled this position know how arduous is this duty), hiding from all eyes the anxious weight of care oppressing her. If she was indisposed after the acquittal, it surprised no one who had seen her struggling to keep up before.
There are no triumphs or displays to record of her life, no travels in foreign lands, nor novel sights of strange places. She has not stood in the Orient and watched the great stars swim down hot southern skies, nor heard from the distant palm groves the orioles and nightingales. The even tenor of her way has been spent far from the palaces of luxury or the frivolities of fashion. She has not trodden the gilded halls of ephemeral wealth, nor basked in the sunlight of uninterrupted prosperity, but from the emanations of her father’s genius she has gathered the forces which strengthen her own mind, and the rounds she has mounted in the ladder of progressive development have been won by earnest thought and the gradual experiences of a still young life.
She more than any other of her name and race, appreciated the giant efforts of her father, and upon her he devoted most attention. The companion in childhood of the village tailor, she became in womanhood the counsellor and friend of the successful statesman.
Louis Napoleon, in his Life of Julius Cæsar, says: “How little able are common men to judge of the motives which govern great souls.” The history of Mrs. Patterson’s stay in the Executive Mansion suggests the thought how unappreciated she was by those who fawned around her in her hour of triumph. Possessing native intellect to a high degree, she knows her latent powers, and her head thinks and her soul feels the difference between her sound principles and practical sense, and the flippant, vain women who consider her unfashionable. With such a class she could have no sympathy; and it is foreign to her nature to dissemble. Circumventing all attempts at advice and assistance, she taught many who insisted upon helping her, that a sensible woman is never at a loss for words or manners, and to such Presidents’ houses are as simple residences, requiring only the refinement of the lady and the ability of a resolute, determined person. Genial and social to familiar friends, she was generally distant and reserved toward promiscuous visitors; while, at the same time, she had a high sense of the justice due the masses from the family of the first official in the nation. This feeling of duty toward others actuated her course in keeping the White House ready always to be seen by the crowds who daily throng it. Parlors and conservatories were kept open as much as consistent, though many times very annoying to the inmates, and rendering the privacy of their own apartments rather a matter of chance than of certainty. It was not unfrequent that idle curiosity-seekers ventured through the closed doors which separated the private from the public wing of the building, and intruded upon the forbearing occupants; yet such occurrences were never made the occasion of trouble—a polite request and pleasant acceptance of the proffered apology sufficed, and not unfrequently added the offenders of etiquette to her list of new-made friends.
It was the custom of Mrs. Patterson to rise early; and after a simple toilet, to skim the milk and attend to the dairy before breakfast. In the hall connecting the conservatory to the main building, her clean pails might be seen ranged in regular order. When, on Saturday afternoons, the greenhouses were thrown open to the public, these evidences of her housekeeping propensities were removed. Fond of the delicacies of the table, she valued home-made articles, and the delicious food found always upon her table gave evidence of her personal oversight and thoughtfulness.