The first time I ever saw Washington Irving, with whom I enjoyed an extended friendship, was when he was a guest of Gouverneur Kemble. The intimate social relations existing between these two friends began in early life, and lasted throughout their careers, having been fostered by a frequent interchange of visits. In his earlier life Mr. Kemble inherited from his relative, Nicholas Gouverneur, a fine old estate near Newark, New Jersey, which bore the name of "Mount Pleasant." Washington Irving, however, rechristened the place "Cockloft Hall," and in a vein of mirth dubbed the bachelor-proprietor "The Patroon." Irving described this retreat in his "Salmagundi," and the characters there depicted which have been thought by many to be fanciful creations were in reality Gouverneur Kemble and his many friends. His place was subsequently sold, but the intimacy between the two men continued, and it has always seemed to me that there was much pathos connected with their friendship. Both of them were bachelors and owned homes of more than passing historic interest on the Hudson. Irving called Kemble's residence at Cold Spring "Bachelor's Elysium," while to his own he applied the name of "Wolfert's Roost." In the spring of 1856 in writing to Kemble he said: "I am happy to learn that your lawn is green. I hope it will long continue so, and yourself likewise. I shall come up one of these days and have a roll on it with you"; and Kemble, upon another occasion, in urging Irving to visit him added as an inducement, "come and we will have a game of leap-frog." Referring to their last meeting Irving said of Kemble: "That is my friend of early life—always unchanged, always like a brother, one of the noblest beings that ever was created. His heart is pure gold." That was in the summer of 1859, and in the following November Irving died, at the ripe old age of seventy-six. Constant in life, let us hope that in death they are not separated, and that in the Silent Land
No morrow's mischief knocks them up.
Let the cynic who spurns the consoling influences of friendship ponder upon the life-intimacy of these two old men who, throughout the cares and turmoils of a long and engrossing existence, illustrated so beautifully the charm of such a benign relationship.
Irving impressed me as having a genial but at the same time a retiring nature. He was of about the average height and, although quite advanced in years when I knew him, his hair had not changed color. His manner was exceeding gentle and, strange to say, with such a remarkable vocabulary at his command, in society he was exceedingly quiet. In his early life Irving was engaged to be married to one of his own ethereal kind, but she passed onward, and among his friends the subject was never broached as it seemed too sacred to dwell upon. Her name was Matilda Hoffman and she was a daughter of the celebrated jurist of New York, Judge Josiah Ogden Hoffman. She died in 1809 in her eighteenth year.
My last meeting with Irving is vividly impressed upon my memory as the occasion was quite memorable. I was passing the winter in Washington as the guest of my elder sister, Mrs. Eames, who a few years before had married Charles Eames, Esq., of the Washington Bar. Irving, who was then seventy-two years old, was making a brief visit to the Capital and called to see me. This was in 1855, when William M. Thackeray was on his second visit to this country and delivering his celebrated lectures upon "The Four Georges." I had scarcely welcomed Mr. Irving into my sister's drawing-room when Thackeray was announced, and I introduced the two famous but totally dissimilar men to each other. Thackeray was a man of powerful build and a very direct manner, but to my mind was not an individual to be overpowered by sentiment. I can not remember after the flight of so many years the nature of the conversation between Irving and Thackeray apart from the mutual interchange that ordinarily passes between strangers when casually presented.
Later I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Thackeray quite a number of times during his sojourn in Washington where he was much lionized in society. One evening we were all gathered around the family tea table when he chanced to call and join us in that cup which is said to cheer. He entered into conversation with much enthusiasm, especially when he referred to his children. He seemed to have a special admiration for a young daughter of his, and related many pleasing anecdotes of her juvenile aptitude. I think he referred to Anne Isabella Thackeray (Lady Richie), who gave to the public a biographical edition of her father's famous works. I remember we drifted into a conversation upon a recently published novel, but the title of the book and its author I do not recall. At any rate, he was discussing its heroine, who, under some extraordinary stress of circumstances, was forced to walk many miles in her stocking-feet to obtain succor, and the whole story was thrilling in the extreme; whereupon the author of "Vanity Fair" exclaimed, "She was shoeicidal." Although he was an Englishman, he was not averse to a pun—even a poor one! I remember asking Mr. Thackeray whether during his visit to New York he had met Mrs. De Witt Clinton. His response was characteristic: "Yes, and she is a gay old girl!"
James K. Paulding, the distinguished author who married the sister of Gouverneur and William Kemble and lived at Hyde Park, farther up the Hudson, frequently formed one of the pleasant coterie that gathered around "Uncle Gouv's" board. "The Sage of Lindenwald," as ex-President Martin Van Buren was frequently called by both friend and foe, also repeatedly came from his home in Kinderhook to dine with Mr. Kemble, and these memories call to mind a dinner I attended at "Uncle Gouv's" when Mr. Van Buren was the principal guest. Although it was many years after his retirement from the presidential office, the impression he made upon me was that of a quiet, deliberate old gentleman, who continued to be well versed in the affairs of state.
A short distance from Cold Spring is Garrison's, where many wealthy New Yorkers have their country seats. Putnam County, in which both Garrison's and Cold Spring are located, was once a portion of Philipse Manor. The house in the "Upper Manor," as this tract of land was called, was The Grange, but over forty years ago it was burned to the ground. It was originally built by Captain Frederick Philips about 1800, and was the scene of much festivity. The Philipses were tories during the Revolution, and it is said that this property would doubtless have been confiscated by the government but for the fact that Mary Philips, who was Captain Frederick Philips' only child, was a minor at the close of the war in 1783. Mary Philips, whose descendants have spelled the name with a final e, married Samuel Gouverneur, and their eldest son, Frederick Philipse Gouverneur, dropped the name Gouverneur as a surname and assumed that of Philipse in order to inherit a large landed estate of which The Grange was a conspicuous part.
When I first visited Garrison's the Philipse family was living at The Grange in great elegance. Frederick Philipse was then a bachelor and his maiden sister, Mary Marston Gouverneur, presided over his establishment. Another sister, Margaret Philipse Gouverneur, married William Moore, a son of the beloved physician, Dr. William Moore of New York, a nephew of President Benjamin Moore of Columbia College and a first cousin of Clement C. Moore who wrote the oft quoted verses, "'Twas the Night before Christmas," which have delighted the hearts of American children for so many decades.
Frederick Philipse subsequently married Catharine Wadsworth Post, a member of a prominent family of New York. It was while Mr. and Mrs. Philipse were visiting her relatives that The Grange was destroyed by fire. Miss Mary Marston Gouverneur had ordered the chimneys cleaned, in the manner then prevalent, by making a fire in the chimney place on the first floor, in order to burn out the débris. The flames fortunately broke out on the top story, thus enabling members of the family to save many valuable heirlooms in the lower apartments. Among the paintings rescued and now in the possession of Frederick Philipse's daughters, the Misses Catharine Wadsworth Philipse and Margaret Gouverneur Philipse of New York, was the portrait of the pretty Mary Philipse, Washington's first love. Tradition states she refused his offer of marriage to become the bride of Roger Morris, an officer in the British Army. It is generally believed that she was the heroine of Cooper's "Spy;" but she had then laid aside the belleship of early youth and had become the intellectual matron of after years. Some of the other portraits rescued were those of Adolphus Philipse, second son of the first Lord of the Manor; Philip Philipse, and his wife, Margaret Marston, whose second husband was the Rev. John Ogilvie, for many years assistant minister of Trinity Church of New York; Margaret Philipse, younger sister of Mary, who married Roger Morris; Captain Frederick Philips, by Gilbert Stuart; Mrs. Samuel Gouverneur; Nathaniel Marston and his wife, Mary Crooke; and Mrs. Abraham Gouverneur who was the daughter of Jacob Leisler, at one time the Acting Governor of the Province of New York.