A spirit as loyal and comforting to us pervaded the circle of old-time associates in Washington, and permeated the newer ones who had gathered about me in my adversity. Mrs. Parker, the brilliant hostess of the Buchanan days, who now so hospitably had thrown open her home to me, proved an unsparing and faithful friend. Her hospitality to me and to the legion of other friends who flocked to offer their sympathy and services to me was unstinted, and the several members of her family vied with each other in extending their kindnesses and protection to me.
Among the friends who reappeared in Washington about this time, my diary notes the calls upon me early in ’6 of fair Constance Cary and her fiancé, Burton Harrison,[[71]] long since released from the imprisonment which, for a time, he shared with Mr. Davis; of my kinswoman, Mrs. Polk, of North Carolina, and of Madame Le Vert, the brilliant Octavia Walton, who, almost three decades before, had led all other fascinating beauties in the capital. Accompanied by her daughters, Mme. Le Vert had returned to the North to intercede for the pardons of General Beauregard and others of her kin and friends. Her comings and goings were heralded everywhere. She was the distinguished member of the Southern coterie in New York, whence frequent trips were made to the capital, and it was commonly remarked that the charm of her personality had suffered no diminution with the increase of years.
Our beloved General Lee, who had been summoned to Washington to appear before the Reconstruction Committee, was the lion of the day. I saw him several times, surrounded by hosts of admirers, the ladies begging for mementoes, buttons—anything, in fact, he might be persuaded to give up, while he, modest and benevolent, yielded helplessly to their demands. It was during these months that I became acquainted with the lovely Mme. de Podestad, General Lee’s kinswoman, who was both witty and beautiful. For a number of years, as the wife of one of the Spanish Minister’s suite, she was a conspicuous member of Washington society. Going thence to Spain, she became lady-in-waiting to the Queen. Madame de Podestad was a devoted admirer of her heroic kinsman, and I saw much of her in those memorable days of ’6.
MRS. A. S. PARKER
of Washington, D. C.
It was a time of intense political excitement. The strife over the Civil Rights bill was the absorbing topic everywhere. The “returning good sense of the people,” upon which the President so long had appeared to depend, was less apparent than he had hoped, and to many astute minds the air seemed to vibrate with premonitions of the Government’s overthrow. Cabinet changes were so earnestly desired that a discussion of that body became part of every conversation. Mr. Johnson’s absorption in the progress of the Civil Rights bill was so great, that, upon my return from a visit to my husband, early in April, realising the inadvisability and the inconsiderateness of pressing my demands at that moment, I yielded to the urgings of my friends and entered upon a short season of diversion. I remember to have visited, in company with Senator Bright and Mr. Voorhees, the studio of Vinnie Reames, whose vogue in Washington was then at its height; and I indulged in a pleasure trip to Baltimore, where a great fair was in progress which had been arranged by the patriotic ladies of that city. Contributions had poured in, and half the capital was in attendance.
“Mrs. Johnson sent a superb basket of flowers,” reads the account I sent home, “which was raffled for sixty dollars! A portrait of the President was bought and sent to her. Also General Johnston’s and General Lee’s were bought and sent to their wives. Mr. Corcoran won the portrait of ‘Stonewall’ Jackson. Admiral Semmes was present one day, and he and I promenaded the rooms together. Though not the ‘Pirate’s Bride,’ I was proud of his company. A robe de chambre for Mr. Davis and a superb pillow for Mr. Clay are in my possession. Will take them soon! Ross Wynans,” I added, in describing the more generous donations sent to the energetic ladies, “has sent one hundred thousand dollars, and an English gentleman twenty-five thousand!”
Admiral Semmes was the most recent of the State prisoners to be released, and his appearance at the fair was the signal for a lively enthusiasm. By this time Mr. Stephens, our late Vice-President, was a free man, and thrice had called upon me in Washington to offer sympathetic suggestions concerning the case of my husband, so inexplicably detained. Our dear friend, ex-Secretary of the Navy Mallory, had been given his liberty early in March.
“Deeply anxious about your good husband,” Mr. Mallory wrote, early in April, “I have deferred writing to you from day to day since my release, confident that I would soon be able to congratulate you upon his release. Persuaded that he will never be called upon seriously to respond to the charge upon which he was incarcerated, and unable to perceive any reason or motive for discriminating between him and others, myself included, who laboured in the Confederate cause, I am at a loss to conceive why this confinement continues. Of course, I fully appreciate the character of the struggle between the two great departments of the Government, and the embarrassments which it throws in the President’s path; and hence I attribute to this cause all which affects Mr. Clay, and which I cannot otherwise account for. But the restoration of civil law throughout the country opens a way which his friends may very properly take ... and I have been prepared to learn it has been entered upon!”
A resort to the habeas corpus proceedings thus suggested by Mr. Mallory had already been discussed by Judge Black as a step to be taken when all other efforts had proved unsuccessful. By the fourteenth of March, Mr. Johnson’s courage to act in behalf of Mr. Clay had risen to the point of procuring for him the liberty of the Fort without guard, from sunrise to sunset, which order I had carried at once to General Miles.