A hundred thousand dollars was considered a highly respectable fortune in New York between sixty and seventy years ago. Seven per cent, was the usual rate of interest, the cost of living was low, and life was, of course, much simpler in every way. I recall a prominent young man about this period, Henry Carroll Marx, commonly called "Dandy Marx," who was said to be the happy possessor of the amount I have named. He was devoted to horses and from his home on Broadway he could frequently be seen driving tandem on the cobblestone streets. I do not remember his entering the social arena; possibly he avoided it in order to escape the wiles of designing mothers, whom one occasionally encountered even in those ancient days. His faultless attire, which in elegance surpassed all his rivals, won for him the nickname of "Dandy." He also rendered himself conspicuous as the first gentleman in New York to wear the long, straight, and pointed waxed mustache. His two maiden sisters were inseparable companions and nearly every day could be seen walking on Broadway. Miss Lydia Kane, one of the wits of my day and of whom I have already spoken, facetiously called them "number 11"—two straight marks!
In 1845 Burton's Theater was an unfailing source of delight to the pleasure-loving public. William E. Burton was an Englishman of rare cultivation, and was the greatest comedian New York had ever known. Although so gifted, his expression of countenance was one of extreme gravity. His presentation of Aminadab Sleek in the "Serious Family" has, in my opinion, never been surpassed. He frequently acted in minor comedies, but the "Serious Family" was his greatest rôle. Niblo's Garden on Broadway, near Houston Street, was a source of great delight in those days to all Gothamites. It was in this theater that the Ravel family had its remarkable athletic performances. When I recall their graceful, youthful physiques, I am reminded of Hamlet's philosophical musings in the graveyard: "Where be your gibes now, your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar?" P. T. Barnum was a conspicuous figure about this time. His museum was on Broadway, at the corner of Ann Street, and not far from the City Hall. He was considered a prince of humbugs and perhaps gloried in his reputation as such. I distinctly remember the excitement which he created over a mummified old colored woman who, he asserted, had been a nurse of Washington, and to whom he gave the name of Joice Heth. She was undoubtedly a very aged negress, but she still retained full powers of articulation and was well coached to reply in an intelligent manner to the numerous inquiries respecting her pretended charge. It is needless to add that she was only one of Barnum's numerous fakes.
Philip Kearny, a handsome gentleman of a former school, who lived at the corner of Broadway and Leonard Street, was a lavish entertainer. He was a widower when I knew him, but his daughter, the wife of Major Alexander S. Macomb, U.S.A., the son and aide of Major General Alexander Macomb, Commander-in-Chief of the Army, lived with him. Major Macomb was conspicuous for his attractive personality and imposing presence and was said to bear a striking resemblance to Prince Albert, the father of Edward VII. His wife was one of the three heirs of John Watts, who owned a princely estate. The other two were her brother, the gallant General Philip Kearny, and her cousin, General John Watts de Peyster, a son of that most accomplished gentleman, Frederick de Peyster, of whom I have already spoken. Mrs. Macomb was a generous and attractive woman who dispensed with a liberal hand the wealth she had inherited. Her pretty cousins, Mary and Nancy Kearny, whom I knew quite well, daughters of her father's brothers, were her constant guests. Another frequent visitor of this household was Mrs. "Phil" Kearny, as she was invariably called, whose maiden name was Diana Moore Bullitt, a famous Kentucky belle, well-known for her grace and intellectual attractions. Her sister Eloise, usually called "Lou" Bullitt by her intimate friends, married Baron Frederick de Kantzow of Sweden, a courtly foreigner who had commercial relations with the merchant princes of New York. Tradition states that the Baroness de Kantzow, though not possessed of Mrs. Kearny's beauty, was a more successful slayer of hearts than her sister, and it is said that she had adorers by the score. A third Bullitt sister, Mary, married General Henry Atkinson and after his death Major Adam Duncan Steuart, both of the United States Army, the latter of whom was stationed for many years at Fort Leavenworth.
Mrs. Macomb's health failed at an early period of life and to restore it she sought a foreign clime; but, alas, her many friends were never gladdened again by her kindly welcome, as she died abroad. In my young womanhood I frequently attended parties at the Kearny house where dancing and other social pleasures enlivened the scene. In this connection it seems proper to refer at greater length to John Watts and his interesting trio of daughters. I have already spoken of his son Robert, who died unmarried at an early age. His two older daughters, Susanna, wife of Philip Kearny, and Mary Justina, wife of Frederick de Peyster, did not long survive their marriages; but a third daughter, Elizabeth, the wife of Henry Laight, who never had children, lived many years with her father and managed the affairs of his household. An amusing story was told me many years ago regarding Mrs. Laight which is well worthy of mention. As a young girl she was deeply in love with the young man who eventually became her husband, but her father was so devoted to her and so very dependent upon her that he violently opposed her marrying anyone. Accordingly, a secret marriage was planned by the young people to take place in Trinity Church. As the youthful pair was standing in front of the altar, surrounded by a few sympathetic friends, the rector reached the words, "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" when, to the astonishment of the assembled group, a gruff, loud voice in the rear of the church shouted "I do." Old John Watts had opposed his daughter's marriage with all his might, but when he learned by chance that she was to be married clandestinely, he graciously accepted the inevitable and without the knowledge of anyone hurried to the church and, entering it by a side door, duly performed his part as just related. This anecdote was told me by Arent Schuyler de Peyster, a distant cousin of General John Watts de Peyster. Many years later, when I repeated it to Mrs. Diana Bullitt Kearny, she remarked in her characteristic manner: "He was mean enough not to even allow her the satisfaction of a runaway marriage." This estimate of his character, however, does not seem to agree with that given by others. The Laights were prominent in New York society. One of them, Edward Laight, whom I knew as a society beau, was remarkably handsome. He was a good deal of a flirt and transferred his affections with remarkable facility from one young woman to another. His sister married a Greek, Mr. Eugene Dutilh, a gentleman of culture and refinement, who owned a beautiful place at Garrison's-on-the-Hudson which he sold about 1861 to Hamilton Fish.
Philip Kearny and his family lived next door to Peter A. Jay, and I frequently met the young people of his household at Mrs. Macomb's parties. Gouverneur Morris, a son of the distinguished statesman, and Edward Kearny were habitués of this establishment, as were also Ridley and Essex Watts, both of whom I knew well. General "Phil" Kearny from his youthful days was an enthusiastic soldier, but he was not a graduate of West Point, having been appointed to the regular army from civil life by President Van Buren in 1837. He served throughout the Mexican War, where he had the misfortune to lose an arm at the battle of Churubusco, and was killed during the Civil War in 1862 at the battle of Chantilly.
Speaking of General Macomb, I am reminded of a social on dit of many years ago. Mrs. August Belmont (Caroline Slidell Perry) lived in a fine house on Fifth Avenue and frequently gave large receptions. His sister, Sarah Perry, subsequently Mrs. R. S. Rodgers, was an early friend of mine. The elegant Major Alexander S. Macomb, who was his father's namesake and aide, on entering Mrs. Belmont's drawing-room was unfortunate enough to brush against a handsome vase and completely shatter it. It was generally conceded that his hostess was conscious of the disaster, but "was mistress of herself though China fall" and appeared entirely unconscious of the mishap. Some months later at the house of Lady Cunard (Mary McEvers), a similar accident happened. The unfortunate guest, however, in this case was immediately approached by his hostess, who with much elegant grace begged him not to be disturbed as the damage was trifling. Immediately society began an animated discussion, when even the judicial powers of Solomon might have found it embarrassing to decide which of the two women should be accorded the greater degree of savoir faire.
In 1844, accompanied by my father, I attended the wedding of Estelle Livingston, daughter of John Swift Livingston, to John Watts de Peyster. At the time of this marriage, Mr. de Peyster was considered the finest parti in the city; while, apart from his great wealth, he was so unusually talented that it was generally believed a brilliant future awaited him. It was a home wedding, and the drawing-room was well filled with the large family connection and other invited guests. At this time Mr. Livingston was a widower, but his sister Maria, Mrs. John C. Stevens of Hoboken, did the honors of the occasion for her brother. The young bride presented a charming appearance in all her finery, and at the bountiful collation following the ceremony champagne flowed freely. This, however, was no unusual thing, as that beverage was generally seen at every entertainment in those good old days. Mrs. John C. Stevens lived at one time in Barclay Street, and I have heard numerous stories concerning her eccentricities. In 1849 she gave a fancy-dress ball but, as she had failed to revise her visiting list in many years, persons who had long been dead were among her invited guests. She was especially peculiar in her mode of dress, which was not always adapted to her social position. It is therefore not at all surprising that unfortunate mistakes were occasionally made in regard to her identity. Another of her eccentricities consisted in the fact that she positively refused, when shopping, to recognize even her most intimate friends, as she said it was simply impossible for her to combine business with pleasure. In spite of her peculiarities, however, she possessed unusual social charm. Her husband was prominent in society and business circles. He was founder of the New York Yacht Club as well as its first president, and commanded the America in the memorable race in England in 1851, which won the celebrated cup that Sir Thomas Lipton and other English yachtsmen have failed to restore to their native land. Mary Livingston, the younger daughter of John Swift Livingston, was a petite beauty. She married a distant relative, a son of Maturin Livingston. I am told that her brother, Johnston Livingston, is still living in New York at a very advanced age.
Joseph Kemmerer's band was an indispensable adjunct to all social gatherings in the days of which I am speaking. The number of instruments used was always in proportion to the size of the entertainment. The inspiring airs of Strauss and Labitzky, then in vogue, were popular with the younger set. These airs bring back pleasant memories, as I have frequently danced to them. The waltz in my day was a fine art and its votaries were numerous. I recall the fact that Edward James of Albany, a witty young gentleman with whom I occasionally danced, was such a devotee to the waltz that, not possessing sufficient will power to resist its charms and having a delicate constitution, he nearly danced himself into another world. Two attractive young brothers, Thomas H. and Daniel Messinger, who were general beaux in society, played their parts most successfully in the social world by their graceful dancing, and no ball was considered complete without their presence. These brothers were associated in the umbrella industry, and Miss Lydia Kane, some of whose witty remarks I have already quoted, dubbed them the "reigning beaux!" Daniel Messinger eventually married Miss Elizabeth Coles Neilson, a daughter of Anthony Bleecker Neilson, and became a Lieutenant Colonel in the Union Army during the Civil War.
The British Consul General in New York from 1817 to 1843 was James Buchanan. He was Irish by birth, and many young British subjects visiting the United States made his home their headquarters. He had several daughters and, as the whole family was social in its tastes, I often enjoyed meeting these sturdy representatives of John Bull at his house. Those I knew best came from "the land of brown heath and shaggy wood," as in our family we were naturally partial to Scotchmen and, as a rule, regarded them as desirable acquaintances. Many of these were graduates of Glasgow University and young men of unusual culture and refinement. I especially remember Mr. McCorquodale, a nephew of Dr. Thomas Chalmers, the distinguished Presbyterian Divine of Scotland. He met his future wife in New York in the person of a wealthy and attractive widow. Her maiden name I do not recall, although I am acquainted with certain facts concerning her lineage. She was the granddaughter of Madame de Genlis.
I doubt whether any of these young Scotchmen whom I met remained permanently in this country, as they always seemed too loyal to the "Land o' Cakes" to entirely expatriate themselves. Another young Scotchman, Mr. Dundas, whom I knew quite well through the Buchanans, embarked for his native land on board the steamer President. This ship sailed in the spring of 1841 and never reached her destination. What became of her was never known and her fate remains to this day one of the mysteries of the sea. In the fall of 1860 the U.S. man-of-war Levant, on her voyage from the Hawaiian Islands to Panama, disappeared in the same mysterious manner in the Pacific Ocean; and, as was the case with the President, no human being aboard of her was ever heard of again. There were many conjectures in regard to the fate of this ship, but the true story of her doom has never been revealed. I remember two of the officers who perished with her. One of them was Lieutenant Edward C. Stout, who had married a daughter of Commodore John H. Aulick, U.S.N., and whose daughters, the Misses Julia and Minnie Stout, are well remembered in Washington social circles; and the other was Purser Andrew J. Watson, who was a member of one of the old residential families of the District of Columbia.