I had the pleasure of being present at this wedding, which, in spite of a warm day in June and the many absentees from the city, was one of exceptional brilliancy. The Army and Navy were well represented, the officers of both branches of the service appearing in full-dress uniform. The hour appointed for the ceremony was high noon, but an amusing contretemps blocked the way. An incorrigible mantua-maker, faithless to all promises and regardless of every sense of propriety, failed to send home the bridal dress at the appointed time. This state of affairs proved decidedly embarrassing, but the guests were informed of the cause of the delay and patiently awaited developments. Behind the scenes, however, quite a different spectacle was presented, while amid much bustle and excitement a second wedding gown was being hurriedly prepared. After an hour's delay, however, the belated garment arrived, when the bride-elect was quickly dressed and walked into the large drawing-room in all of her bridal finery, leaning, as was then the custom, upon the arm of the groom. Archbishop Hughes conducted the wedding service, and seized upon the auspicious occasion to make an address of some length. Previous to the ceremony, my intimate friend, the young bride's older sister, Cornelia Scott, who a few years previous had become while in Rome a convert to Catholicism, asked me with much earnestness of manner to do my best to entertain the Archbishop, as she thought, in her kind way, that he might be somewhat out of his element when surrounded by such a large and fashionable assemblage. This was, indeed, a pleasing task, as it enabled me to renew my earlier acquaintance with this gifted prelate. The only member of the groom's family present at this ceremony was his handsome brother, Alexander S. McTavish, who came from Baltimore for the occasion. Strange to say, in view of the many presents usually displayed upon such occasions nowadays, I do not remember, although I was a family guest, seeing or hearing of a single bridal gift, but some of the wedding guests I recall very distinctly. Among them were Mr. and Mrs. Charles King, the former of whom was President of Columbia College and an intimate friend of General Scott's; Mr. and Mrs. Robert Ray, whose daughter Cornelia married Major Schuyler Hamilton, aide-de-camp to General Scott during the Mexican war; Prof. Clement C. Moore and his daughter Theresa; Mr. and Mrs. Edward Mayo of Elizabeth, N.J., the former of whom was Mrs. Scott's brother; Mrs. Robert Henry Cabell, a sister of Mrs. Scott's from Richmond; Major Thomas Williams, an aide to General Scott, who was killed during the Civil War; and Major Henry L. Scott, aide and son-in-law of General Scott.

The same evening, after the wedding guests had departed and quiet again reigned supreme in the household, I went to Mrs. Scott's room to sit with her, as she seemed sad and lonely, and at the same time to talk over with her, womanlike, the events of the day. In our quiet conversation I remember referring to Archbishop Hughes's address to the groom, and asked her if she had observed that he had dwelt upon the bride "being taken from an affectionate father," while the remaining members of the family were entirely ignored. Mrs. Scott immediately bristled up and with much warmth of feeling said that she had noticed the omission and believed that the action of the Archbishop was premeditated. Just here was an undercurrent which as an intimate friend of the family I fully understood. After Virginia Scott's death at the Georgetown Convent Mrs. Scott was most outspoken in her denunciation of the Roman Catholic Church, which she felt had robbed her of her daughter.

Some years after his marriage Charles Carroll McTavish applied to the Legislature of Maryland for permission to drop his surname and to assume that of his great-grandfather, Charles Carroll. As this request was strenuously opposed by other descendants of the Signer, who regarded it as inexpedient to increase the number of Charles Carrolls, the petition of Mr. McTavish was not granted. Mary Wellesley McTavish, his sister, I remember as a sprightly young woman of fine appearance. She made her début in London society as the guest of her aunt, Mary McTavish, wife of the Marquis of Wellesley. After a brief courtship she married Henry George Howard, a son of the Earl of Carlisle, and accompanied him to the Netherlands, where he was the accredited British Minister. Mrs. George Bancroft, wife of the historian, who accompanied her husband when he was our Minister to England, gave me an interesting sketch of Mrs. Howard's varied life. Death finally claimed her in Paris and her body was brought back to this country and buried in Maryland, the home of her youth. Her mother, who brought the remains across the ocean, soon after her bereavement, established "The House of the Good Shepherd" in Baltimore.

Three daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Carroll McTavish grew into womanhood. The elder sisters, Mary and Emily, both of whom were well known for their beauty and vivacity, entered upon cloistered lives. Just as the two sisters were about taking this step, they made a request, which caused much comment, to the effect that they should be assigned to different convents. I understand that Mrs. McTavish, their mother, is still living in Rome with the unmarried daughter. During Mrs. Scott's residence in Paris she was invited to witness the ceremony of "taking the veil" at a prominent convent, and writing to her family at home she remarked: "How strange that human beings, knowing the fickleness of their natures, should bind themselves for life to one limited space and unvarying mode of existence."

Hoboken, or, as it was sometimes called, Paulus Hook, was a great resort in my earlier life for residents of the great metropolis. We children, accompanied by my father or some other grown person, delighted to roam in that locality over what was most appropriately termed the "Elysian Fields." Professional landscape-gardening had not then been thought of, but nature's achievements often surpass the embellishments of man. Our cup of happiness was full to the brim when we were taken to this entrancing spot overlooking the Hudson River, with its innumerable sloops, steamboats and tugs adding so much to the picturesqueness of the scene. As we strolled along, we regaled ourselves every now and then with a refreshing glass of mead, a concoction of honey and cold water, purchased from a passing vender; and when cakes or candy were added to the refreshing drink life seemed very couleur de rose to our childish dreams. Then again we made occasional trips up the river, but the steamboats and other excursion craft of that day were of course mere pigmies compared with those of the present time. The cabin always had a large dining table, on either side of which was a line of berths. Guests were called to dinner at one o'clock by the vigorous ringing of a large bell in the hands of a colored waiter dressed in a white apron and jacket. I have often thought how surprised and pleased this old-time servant, universally seen in every well-to-do household in those days, would be if he could return to earth and hear himself addressed as "butler."

It was upon one of these trips up the Hudson that the widow of General Alexander Hamilton and her daughter, Mrs. Hamilton Holly, were taking their mid-day repast, at one end of the long table, when they were informed that Aaron Burr was partaking of the same meal not far from them. Their indignation was boundless, and immediately there were two vacant chairs. Mrs. Holly was a woman of strong intellect, and a friendship which I formed with her is one of the most cherished memories of my life. She devoted her widowhood to the care of her aged mother. We often engaged in confidential conversations, when she would discuss the tragedies which so clouded her life. I especially remember her dwelling upon the sad history of her sister, Angelica Hamilton, who, she told me, was in the bloom of health and surrounded by everything that goes towards making life happy when her eldest brother, Philip Hamilton, was killed in a duel. He had but recently been graduated from Columbia College and lost his life in 1801 on the same spot where, about three years later, his father was killed by Aaron Burr. This dreadful event affected her so deeply that her mind became unbalanced, and she was finally placed in an asylum, where she died at a very advanced age. Mrs. Hamilton lived in Washington, D.C., in one of the De Menou buildings on H Street, between Thirteenth and Fourteenth Streets, and Mrs. Holly resided in the same city until her death.

Tragedy seemed to pursue the Hamilton family with unrelenting perseverance until the third generation. In 1858 the legislature of Virginia, desiring that every native President should repose upon Virginia soil, made an appropriation for removing the remains of James Monroe from New York to Richmond. He died on the 4th of July, 1831, while temporarily residing in New York with his daughter, Mrs. Samuel L. Gouverneur, and his body was placed in the Gouverneur vault in the Marble Cemetery on Second Street, east of Second Avenue, where it remained for nearly thirty years. The disinterment of the remains of this distinguished statesman was conducted with much pomp and ceremony and the body placed on board of the steamer Jamestown and conveyed to Richmond, accompanied all the way by the 7th Regiment of New York which acted as a guard of honor. The orator of the occasion was John Cochrane, a distinguished member of the New York bar; while Henry A. Wise, then Governor of Virginia, delivered an appropriate address at the grave in Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. My husband, Samuel L. Gouverneur, junior, Monroe's grandson, accompanied the remains as the representative of the family. After the ceremonies in Richmond were completed, but before the 7th Regiment had embarked upon its homeward voyage, one of its members, Laurens Hamilton, a grandson of Alexander Hamilton and a son of John C. Hamilton, was drowned near Richmond. All the proceedings connected with the removal of Mr. Monroe's remains, both in New York and in Richmond, were published some years later by Udolpho Wolfe, a neighbor and admirer of the late President. A copy of the book was presented to each member of the 7th Regiment and one of them was also given by the compiler to my husband. A few years later this same New York regiment invaded Virginia, but under greatly different circumstances. A terrible civil war was raging, and the Old Dominion for a time was its principal battle ground.

I recall an amusing anecdote which Mr. Gouverneur told me upon his return from this visit to Richmond. While the great concourse of people was still assembled at Monroe's grave in Hollywood Cemetery, Governor Henry A. Wise, always proud of his State, remarked: "Now we must have all the native Presidents of Virginia buried within this inclosure." Immediately a vigorous hand was placed on his shoulder by a New York alderman who had accompanied the funeral cortège, who exclaimed in characteristic Bowery vernacular: "Go ahead, Governor, you'll fotch 'em."

The only mode of travel on the Hudson River in my early days was by boat. One of my recollections is seeing Captain Vanderbilt in command of a steamboat. I have heard older members of my family say that he designated himself "Captain Wanderbilt," and that his faithful wife's endearing mode of accosting him was "Corneil." At any rate, it is well-known that he began life by operating a rowboat ferry between Staten Island and New York. In later years a sailboat was substituted over this same route. The Hudson River Railroad was originally built under the direction of a number of prominent men in the State who were anything but skilled in such enterprises. In the beginning of its career, while high officials bestowed fat offices upon friends and relatives, its finances were in a chaotic condition. It was during this state of affairs that Commodore Vanderbilt, with a master mind, grasped the situation and reorganized the whole system, thereby greatly increasing his own fortune, and placing the railroad upon a sound financial basis. After such a remarkable career "blindness to the future" seems unkindly given, as doubtless it would have been a source of great satisfaction to this Vanderbilt progenitor could he have known before passing onward that his hard-earned wealth would eventually enrich his descendants, even the representatives of nobility.

I have before me an invitation to a New York Assembly, dated the 29th of January, 1841, addressed to my father and mother, which has followed my wanderings through seventy years. All of the managers, a list of whom I give, were representative citizens as well as prominent society men of the day: