The principal of the school was the daughter of John Forbes, who for thirty years was the librarian of the New York Society Library. He was a native of Aberdeen in Scotland, and was brought to this country in extreme youth by a widowed mother of marked determination and piety, with the intention of launching him successfully in life. He early displayed a fondness for books, and must have shown an uncommon maturity of mind and much executive ability, as he was only nineteen when he was appointed to the position just named. It is an interesting fact that he accepted the librarianship in 1798 with a salary of two hundred and fifty dollars a year in addition to the fines and two and a half per cent. upon all moneys collected, besides the use or rental of the lower front room of the library building. After many years of labor his salary was raised to five hundred dollars. Upon his death in October, 1824, the trustees, out of respect to his memory, voted to attend his funeral in a body and ordered the library closed for the remaining four days of the week. He married Miss Martha Skidmore, daughter of Lemuel Skidmore, a prominent iron and steel merchant of New York, and I have no doubt that Maria Forbes, their daughter and my early teacher, inherited her scholarly tastes from her father, of whom Dr. John W. Francis in his "Old New York" justly speaks as a "learned man."
Miss Forbes was a pronounced disciplinarian, and administered one form of punishment which left a lasting impression upon my memory. For certain trivial offenses a child was placed in a darkened room and clothed in a tow apron. One day I was subjected to this punishment for many hours, an incident which naturally I have never yet been able to forget. On the occasion referred to Miss Forbes was obliged to leave the schoolroom for a few minutes and, unfortunately for my happiness, appointed my young brother James to act as monitor during her absence. His first experience in the exercise of a little authority evidently turned his head, for upon the return of our teacher I was reported for misbehavior. The charge against me was that I had smiled. It is too long ago to remember whether or not it was a smile of derision, but upon mature reflection I think it must have been. I knew, however, in my childish heart that I had committed no serious offense and, as can readily be imagined, my indignation was boundless. It was the first act of injustice I had ever experienced. Feeling that the punishment was undeserved, and smarting under it, with abundance of leisure upon my hands, I bit the tough tow apron into many pieces. When Miss Forbes after a few hours, which seemed to me an eternity, came to relieve me from my irksome position and noticed the condition of the apron, she regaled me with a homily upon the evils of bad temper, and gave as practical illustrations the lives of some of our most noted criminals, all of whom had expiated their crimes upon the gallows.
In recalling these early school days it seems to me that the rudiments of education received far more attention then than now. Spelling was regarded as of chief importance and due consideration was given to grammar. There were no "frills" then, such as physical culture, manual training and the like, and vacation lasted but thirty days, usually during the month of August. Some of my earliest friendships were formed at Miss Forbes's school, many of which I have retained through a long life. Among my companions and classmates were the Tillotsons, Lynches, Astors, Kembles, Hamiltons, Duers, and Livingstons.
But in spite of the severe discipline of Miss Forbes's school, her pupils occasionally engaged in current gossip. It was in her schoolroom I first made the discovery that this earth boasted of such valuable adjuncts to the human family as title-bearing gentlemen, and in this particular case it was a live Count that was brought to my notice. Count Louis Fitzgerald Tasistro had recently arrived in New York, and his engagement to Adelaide Lynch, a daughter of Judge James Lynch, of an old New York family, was soon announced. On the voyage to America he had made the acquaintance of a son of Lord Henry Gage of England, whose principal object in visiting this country was to make the acquaintance of his kinsman, Mr. Gouverneur Kemble. Through his instrumentality Tasistro was introduced into New York's most exclusive set, and soon became the lion of the hour. We girls discussed the engagement and subsequent marriage of the distinguished foreigner (sub rosa, of course), and to our childish vision pictured a wonderful career for this New York girl. The marriage, however, soon terminated unfortunately, and to the day of his death Tasistro's origin remained a mystery. He was an intellectual man of fine presence and skilled in a number of foreign languages. He claimed he was a graduate of Dublin College. Many years later, after I had become more familiar with title-bearing foreigners, Tasistro again crossed my path in Washington, where he was acting as a translator in the State Department; but after a few years, owing to an affection of the eyes, he was obliged to give up this position, and his condition was one of destitution. Through the instrumentality of my husband he obtained an annuity from his son, whom, by the way, he never knew; and for some years, in a spirit of gratitude, taught my children French. His last literary effort was the translation of the first two volumes of the Comte de Paris's "History of the Civil War in America." His devotion to my husband was pathetic, and I have frequently heard the Count say during the last years of his life that he never met him without some good fortune immediately following.
After Mr. Gouverneur's death I received the following letter from Tasistro, which is so beautiful in diction that I take pleasure in inserting it:
Washington, April 26, 1880.
My dear Mrs. Gouverneur,
Had I obeyed implicitly the impulses of my heart, or been less deeply affected by the great loss which will ever render the 5th of April a day of sad & bitter memories to me, I should perhaps have been more expeditious in rendering to you the poor tribute of my condolence for the terrible bereavement which it has pleased the Supreme Ruler of all things to afflict you with.
My own particular grief in thus losing the best & most valued friend I ever had on earth, receives additional poignancy from the fact that, although duly impressed with an abiding sense of the imperishable obligation, conferred upon me by my lamented friend, I have been debarred, by my own physical infirmities, from proffering those services which it would have afforded me so much consolation to perform.
I should be loath, however, to start on my own journey for that shadowy land whose dim outlines are becoming daily more & more visible to my mental eye, without leaving some kind of record attesting to the depth of my appreciation of all the noble attributes which clustered around your husband's character—of my intense & lasting gratitude for his generous exertions in my behalf, & my profound sympathy for you personally in this hour of sorrow & affliction.