music, flowers and children. At her death, her husband said: "For twenty-seven years, my entire married life, I was always greeted with a happy smile." She entered the White House a matron of commanding person and beautiful countenance. She was five feet six inches in height, with a complexion extremely fair and pure, blue, smiling eyes, and a wealth of light-brown curling hair. A personal friend of Mrs. Filmore, writing from Buffalo, says:

"When Mr. Filmore entered the White House, he found it entirely destitute of books. Mrs. Filmore was in the habit of spending her leisure moments in reading, I might almost say, in studying. She was accustomed to be surrounded with books of reference, maps, and all the other requirements of a well furnished library, and she found it difficult to content herself in a house devoid of such attractions. To meet this want, Mr. Filmore asked of Congress, and received an appropriation, and se lected a library, devoting to that purpose a large and pleasant room in the second story of the White House. Here Mrs. Filmore surrounded herself with her little home comforts; here her daughter had her own piano, harp, and guitar, and here Mrs. Filmore received the informal visits of the friends she loved, and, for her, the real pleasure and enjoyments of the White House were in this room.

Mrs. Filmore was proud of her husband's success in life, and desirous that no reasonable expectation of the public should be disappointed. She never absented herself from the public receptions, dinners, or levées, when it was possible to be present; but her delicate health frequently rendered them very painful. She sometimes kept her bed all day, to favor that weak ankle, that she might be able to endure the fatigue of the two hours she would be obliged to stand for the Friday evening levées.

A DAUGHTER OF THE WHITE HOUSE.

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Mrs. Filmore was destined never to see again her old home in Buffalo, with mortal eyes. She contracted a cold on the day of Mr. Pierce's inauguration, which resulted in pneumonia, of which she died, at Willard's Hotel, Washington, 1853. What she is in the What she is in the memory of her husband, may be judged by the fact that he has carefully preserved every line that she ever wrote him, and has been heard to say that he could never destroy even the little notes that she sent him on business, to his office.

She

The child of this truly wedded pair, Mary Abigail Filmore, was the rarest and most exquisite President's daughter that ever shed sunshine in the White House. survived her mother but a year, dying of cholera, at the age of twenty-two, yet her memory is a benison to all young American women, especially to those surrounded by the allurements of society and high station. She was not only the mistress of many accomplishments, but possessed a thoroughly practical education. She was taught at home, at Mrs. Sedgwick's school, in Lenox, Massachusetts, and was graduated from the State Normal School of New York, as a teacher, and taught in the higher departments of one of the public schools in Buffalo. She was a French, German, and Spanish scholar; was a proficient in music; and an amateur sculptor. She was the rarest type of woman, in whom was blended, in perfect proportion, masculine judgment and feminine tenderness. In her were combined intellectual force, vivacity of temperament, genuine sensibility, and deep tenderness of heart. She saw clearly through the forms and shows of life, her views of its duties were grave and serious; yet, in her intercourse with others, she overflowed with bright wit, humor and kindliness. Her character was revealed in her

face, for her soul shone through it. Words cannot tell what such a nature and such an intelligence would be, presiding over the social life of the Nation's House. She used her opportunities, as the President's daughter, to minister to others. She clung to all her old friends, without any regard to their position in life; her time and talents were devoted to their happiness. She was constantly thinking of some little surprise, some gift, some journey, some pleasure, by which she could contribute to the happiness of others. After the death of her mother, she went to the desolate home of her father and brother, and, emulating the example of that mother, relieved her father of all household care; her domestic and social qualities equalled her intellectual power. She gathered all her early friends about her; she consecrated herself to the happiness of her father and brother; she filled her home with sunshine. With scarcely an hour's warning, the final summons came. "Blessing she was, God made her so," and in her passed away one of the rarest of young American women.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE WHITE HOUSE DURING THE WAR.

Under a Cloud-"A Woman Among a Thousand "—Revival of By-gone Days-Another Lady of the White House-A "Golden Blonde -Instinct Alike with Power and Grace-A Fun-Loving RompHarriet with her Wheelbarrow of Wood-A Deed of KindnessThe Wheel Turns Round-An Impression Made on Queen Victoria -In Paris and on the Continent-An American Lady at OxfordGay Doings at the Capital-Rival Claims for a Lady's Hand-Reigning at the White House-Doing Double Duty-Visit of the Prince of Wales-Marriage of Harriet Lane-As Wife and Mother-Mrs. Abraham Lincoln-Standing Alone—A Time of Trouble and Perplexity-Conciliatory Counsels Needful-Rumors of War-the Life of the Nation Threatened-Whispers of Treason-Awaiting the Event-Peculiar Position of Mary Lincoln-A Life-long Ambition Fulfilled-The Nation Called to Arms Contagious Enthusiasm-What the President's Wife Did-Nothing to do but "Shop "-Sensational Stories Afloat-Stirring Times at the Capital-What Came from the River-The Dying and the Dead-Churches and Houses Turned into Hospitals--Arrival of Troops--“ Mrs. Lincoln Shopped "--The Lonely Man at the White House--Letters of Rebuke-An Example of Selfishness-Petty Economies-The Back Door of the White House-An Injured Individual-Death of Willie Lincoln-Injustice which Mrs. Lincoln Suffered--The Rabble in the White House -Valuables Carried Away--Big Boxes and Much Goods-Going WestMrs. Lincoln Disconsolate--False and Cruel Accusations--Considerable Personal Property--Missing Treasures--Mrs. Lincoln as a WomanTears and Mimicry-The Faults of a President's Wife.

MRS.

RS. FRANKLIN PIERCE entered the White House under the shadow of ill-health and sore bereavement, having seen her last surviving child killed before her eyes on a railroad train, after the election of her husband to the Presidency of the United States.

Mrs. Pierce was remarkable for fragility of constitution, exquisite sensitiveness of organism, and deep spirituality of nature. She instinctively shrank from observation, and nothing could be more painful to her in average life than the public gaze. She found her joy in the quiet sphere of domestic life, and herein, through her wise counsels, pure tastes, and devoted life, she exerted a powerful influence. One who knew her writes:

"Mrs. Pierce's life, as far as she could make it so, was one of retirement. She rarely participated in gay amusements, and never enjoyed what is called fashionable society. Her natural endowments were of a high order. She inherited a judgment singularly clear, and a taste almost unerring. The cast of her beauty was so dream-like; her temper was so little mingled with the common characteristics of woman; it had so little of caprice, so little of vanity, so utter an absence of all jealousy and all anger; it was so made up of tenderness and devotion, and yet so imaginative and fairy-like in its fondness, that it was difficult to bear only the sentiments of earth for one who had so little of life's clay."

It was but natural that such a being should be the lifelong object of a husband's adoring devotion. Nor is it strange that the husband of such a wife, reflecting in his outer life the urbanity, gentleness, and courtesy which marked his home intercourse, in addition to his own personal gifts, should have been, what Franklin Pierce was declared to be, the most popular man, personally, who ever was President of the United States. Notwithstanding her ill health, her shrinking temperament, and personal bereavement, Mrs. Pierce forced herself to meet the public demands of her exalted station, and punctually presided at receptions and state dinners, at any cost to