t h J' ■! I , BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF THE BAILEY- MYERS - MASON FAMILIES 1776 to 1905 KEY TO A Cabinet of Heirlooms IN THE NATIONAL MUSEUM WASHINGTON PRIVATELY PRINTED 1908 COPYRIGHT, 1908 BY MRS. JULIAN- JAMES 6^ ^c\\fb^ ,1 tP] m'^ Ci-ovr;i,-ni I "try CONTENTS Foreword 7 Sketch of the Life of Major M. Myers, 1776-1870 9 Sketch of the Life of Charlotte Bailey, VV;fe of Major Myers 17 Record of Children and Grandchildren of Charlotte Bailey and Major Myers 22 Sketch of the Life of Theodorus Bailey Myers, 1821-1899 . . 23 (_'aialina Juliana Mason, Afterward Mrs. Theodorus Bailey Myers, 1824-1905 37 Sketch of the Life of Theodorus Bailey Myers Mason, Lieutenant Commander United States Navy, 1849-1899 . . 59 Early Recollections of Cassie Mason Myers Julian-James . 75 Julian-James, 1844-1870 107 Rear-Admiral Theoiiokis 1!aii.i;v 124 Cataloc.ue to the Cabinet of Heirlooms at the National Museum, Washington 129 The Myers-Mason Collection 131 Major M. Myers i33 Theodorus Bailey Myers i33 Mks. Theodorus Bailey Myers 134 Lieutenant-Commander Theodorus Bailev Myers Mason . . 136 Cassie Mason Myers Julian-James 137 Julian James 138 Sidney Mason i39 Mrs. Sidney Mason, ist 140 Alfonso Sidnev Mason 140 Don Jose Dorado and His Wife 141 Mrs. Sidney Mason. 2d 141 Theodorus Bailey, United States Senator 142 Theodorus Bailey, Rear-Admiral, United States Navy ... 142 INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS Cabinet in the National Museum at Washington — Myers-Mason Collection Frontispiece The Ford, Rock Creek Park. WASHiNciTON 7 Major Myers 8 Major Myers 16 Myers Monument, Vale Cemetery, Schenectady, New York . 16 Home at Kinderhook, New York . 16 Charlotte Bailey' — Mrs. Myers 16 Judge William Bailey 18 Bailey Home, Plattsburgh, New York 20 Colonel Theodorus Bailey Myers 22 Library of Theodorus Bailey Myers, 4 West Thirty-fourth Street, New York 28 Elm Spring, Westchester County, New York 30 Mr. Myer's Bedroom, 4 West Thirty-iui kth Street, New York 32 Catalina Juliana Mason — Mrs. Theouurus Bailey Myers . . 36 Theodorus Bailey Myers 40 Mrs. Sidney Mason 44 Living Room, 4 West Thirty-fourth Street, New York ... 46 Drawing-room, 4 West Thirtv-foi rth Street, New York ... 48 Sitting-room of Mrs. Julian-James, 4 West Thirty-fourth Street, New York 4S Drawing Room, 1602 Twentieth Street, Washington .... 50 Mrs. Theodorus Myers and Her Little Dog "Yoko" 52 Hall, 1602 Twentieth Street, Washington 52 Mrs. Myers' Bed Room, 4 West Thirty-fourth Street, New York 54 Tea Room, 1602 Twentieth Street, Washington 58 1602 AND 1606 Twentieth Strket, Washington 58 Theodorus Bailey Myers Mason, Lieutenant Commander, United States Navy 58 Mrs. Theodorus Bailey Myers Mason 68 The Anchorage, Saugeriiks-on-Hudson. Summer Home of Lieutenant-Commander and Mrs. .Mason 72 Bookplate of the Collection of Theodorus Bailey Myers in THE New York Public Library, Astor, Lennox and Tilden Foundations 74 Mrs. Myers — Mrs. Julian - James — Mrs. Theodorus Bailey Myers Mason 74 Mrs. Julian-James 74 Theodore and Cassie 76 Julian James 106 Mrs. Julian-James 108 Mr. and Mrs. Julian-James. Crai^side. Cold Spring-on-Hudson 112 Sidney Mason 112 John Mason 112 Marequita Benito Doradd — Mrs. Sidney Mason 114 Sidney Alfonso Mason 114 Don Jose Dorado 116 Catherine Gartz Robe — Mrs. Sidney Mason ti6 Home of Sidney Mason, 130 Fifth Avenue, New York .... iiS The Slekihing Party — Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Mason, Mr. and Mrs. Theqdurus Bailey Myers and Theodore 120 Theodorus Bailey 122 Rear-Admiral Theodorus Bailey 124 Facsimile of Letter from Henry Yates Satterlee, First Bishop OF Washington, to Mrs. Julian-James 128 ■'The Cathedral Close — Peace Cross and Sundial" — Cathedral OF St. Peter and St. Paui 128 T|URING many delightful drives together in ^"^ Rock Creek Park, Washington, when my cousin Kate (Mrs. Robert Trail Spence Lowell) was visiting me, we had such keen enjoyment in putting into permanent form the pleasant incidents contained in the following sketches. We are indebted for valuable assistance to our Aunt, Mrs. Thomas Reed Jackson, and her daughter Frances; to my sister-in-law, Edmonia Phelps Mason McClurg, to Mr. and Mrs. Bernard Mimmack and their daughter Katharine, to the late John Mason, to Helen Mason and to all other Cousins, to whom this book is affectionately dedicated. Cassie Mason Myers Julian-James VILLA PAX 1602 Twentieth Street Northwest WASHINGTON 1908. THESE SKETCHES, DESCRIBING THE OWNERS OF THE HEIR- LOOMS IN THE CABINET, WERE WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF THE LATE PAUL BECK WITH CURATOR OF THE NATIONAL MUSEUM, WASHINGTON, 1). C. WHOSE EFFORTS WERE INSTRU- MENTAL IN ORGANIZING THE MUSEUM'S VALUABLE COLLECTION M SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF MAJOR M. MYERS 1776-1870 AJOR M. MYERS was born at Newport, Rhode Island, on May 1st, 1776, two months before the Declaration of Independence. His father was a man of fine education, speaking and writing most of the living languages. He was a friend of the Rev. Dr. Ezra Styles, afterward President of Yale College. In 1777 he died, leaving a widow and several children. Thus early left fatherless, the subject of this sketch soon showed evidence of possessing marked character and ability. In early manhood his life was passed in successful business pursuits in New York and Rich- mond, Virginia, where he formed friendships with the distinguished men of his day— Aaron Burr, De Witt Clinton, Alexander Hamilton, Brockholst Livingston, General Morgan Lewis and others. He witnessed a memorable event in our history on April 30, 1789, when, a boy of thirteen, he stood in the dense crowd before the old City Hall on Wall Street, New York. In the words of one of his letters he says: "I recollect seeing Chancellor Livingston administer the oath of office to General Washington on a Bible which is still in a state of good preservation and in the possession of St. John's Masonic Lodge, No. 1, New York, where it is held as a relic of times past." Mr. Myers was an eloquent and magnetic speaker, and in both early and mature life he was often called upon to address public meetings. But his tastes inclined him to a military life, for which his force of character, strong will and charm- ing personality well fitted him. The West Point Military Academy was not then in existence, but at the suggestion of his friend. Governor D. D. Tompkins, Mr. Myers studied military tactics with Colonel de la Croix, a French officer who had served under Napoleon. Mr. Myers had also six years practical experience in serving in the New York Militia. In the regiment of Colonel Van Buren he attained the rank of Senior Captain and of Acting Major. It is said that he drilled his men so thoroughly that, much to his annoyance, they were continually taken from him and placed in other companies and raw recruits substituted. In 1812 the storm of war was gathering and Mr. Myers accepted a Captain's commission in the regular army and was assigned to the 13th Regiment of United States Infantry, commanded by Colonel Peter P. Schuyler. In one of his letters to his son Major Myers writes, "I buckled on my sword to lO advance to my station at Charlotte, on Lake Champlain, to begin duty as one of the defenders of my country." This sword may now be seen in the National Museum, Washington, D. C, and on its broad leather belt are traces of blood from a wound which nearly cost him his life. In after years, this sword always hung over his bed, and his daughter, Kate, who lived with him until his death, relates how one night a false alarm of burglars aroused the old gentleman, who appeared at his door, his sword over his shoulder, his red silk night cap on his head, his dark eyes blazing— a formidable figure. In the Museum is also a mahogany, brass -bound writing desk, carried throughout the war, the gift of his wife's uncle, Theodorus Bailey, who was United States Senator in 1803, and Postmaster of New York for twenty-five years. A detailed account of the stirring personal experiences which followed are contained in a series of letters written in his declining years at his son's request. They are preserved in pamphlet form under the title of "Reminiscences, 1812-1814, by Major M. Myers, 13th Infantry, United States Army," and are to be found in the Congressional Library, Washington, D. C; the Boston Public Library, and in the New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundation. In the latter they are contained in the valuable collection of Americana made by Major II Myers' son, Colonel Theodoras Bailey Myers, of New York, and presented to the New York Public Library by Colonel Myers' widow, daughter and daughter-in- law, in memory of him and of his son, Theodorus Bailey Myers Mason, Lieutenant Commander, United States Navy. At the successful engagement with the British at Crysler's Field, on the Niagara Frontier, Major Myers was so severely wounded that his life was despaired of. Thirty splinters were removed from his shoulder, and he was carried to Plattsburgh on a horse led by his faithful servant, William Williams, who had been searching for his master among the dead. He was taken to the house of Dr. Mann, where he remained for four months, and where he met a charming young girl. Miss Charlotte Bailey, who soon after became his wife. She was a daughter of Judge William Bailey, of Plattsburgh, and sister of Theodorus Bailey, afterward Rear Admiral in the United States Navy, and distinguished in the Civil War. At the close of the War of 1812 the Army was reduced to a Peace Establishment, and all those who had been wounded or disabled were honorably discharged, "reversing," as says one of Major Myers' letters, "common sense and common justice," for those who had been wounded or disabled "should have been retained to form skeleton regiments which could at any time be filled with recruits." 12 After a few years devoted to successful com- mercial pursuits, Major Myers was elected a member of the New York State assembly in 1828, to which he was five times re-elected. While a member of the New York Legislature Mr. Myers won the lasting gratitude of the Quakers of his State ; for through his efforts was secured to them the right to decline all military service, which had hitherto been compulsory for all citizens regard- less of their religious convictions. A diagram of the House of Representatives, 1832, shows Mr. Myers' seat in the front row first at the left of the middle aisle, directly in front of the Speaker of the House, and his name is entered as Chairman of the "Committee on Militia and the Public Defense." He bought Judge Vanderpoel's fine country place at Kinderhook, about twenty miles south of Albany, and removed with his family to that village, which was also the home of Martin Van Buren. Mr. Myers was elected President of the village, and in that capacity it was his pleasant duty to receive and address Martin Van Buren on his return at the end of his term as President of the United States. Mr. Myers was a very eminent and enthusiastic Freemason, and even in his latter years he came regularly to New York to attend the annual meetings of the Grand Lodge of the Free and Accepted Masons of the State of New York. 13 He was initiated as a Master Mason in Phoenix Lodge, May, 1795, and he was one of the Charter members of Washington Lodge, No. 2L It is in recognition of this fact that his grandson, William Myers Hoes, of New York, has been elected an honorary member of Washington Lodge, • No. 2L Mr. Hoes is a brother of Pierre Van Buren Hoes, the author of many charming biographical sketches. The following interesting information is contained in a letter dated July 29, 1907, written by one of Major Myers' sons-in-law, also an eminent Mason, Edgar M. Jenkins, of Schenectady, New York, who married his daughter, Frances. He says: "In 1849 there was a split in the Grand Lodge of the State of New York, a few lodges seceding and forming another Grand Lodge, of which your grandfather was Grand Master in 1852 3-4-5 and 6. In 1858 the breach was healed and by the terms of reunion the Grand officers of the seceding Grand Lodge were entitled to hold their rank and titles — so that he was Past Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of the State of New York." After the death of his wife, in 1848, Major Myers removed with his family to Schenectady, New York, of which city he was soon after elected Mayor. His daughter, Kate, remained with him until his death, in 1870, in the ninety-fifth year of his age. Major Myers was universally respected and admired by those who came in contact with him during his 14 long life, covering nearly all of the first century of our Republic. Strangers were at once impressed by the dignity and charm of his old-time manners and conversation ; and those who knew him well, and with whom he was associated in business, testified to his absolute integrity, his unflinching courage in the face of difficulties, from which his long life was not exempt, and to his kindness of heart. A story of distress never failed to awaken his sympathy. His son, Sydney, when a fun-loving boy, dressed himself in his sister's clothes, with bonnet and veil, and came to his father with a tale of woe. As tears were moistening the old gentleman's eyes, and his hand was moving toward his pocket, he suddenly exclaimed, "You rascal!" and marched with dignity out of the room. Major Myers enjoyed society both at home and at Richfield Springs, to which resort he went with his daughters in summer. One of them recalls the fact that often in a roomful of people, other talk gradually ceased, every one choosing to listen to her father, whose low cultivated voice, fine eyes and expressive features added charm to his interesting conversation. The following words were written by him in 1854, in his seventy-ninth year: "I have had my full shai'e of misfortunes and prosperity, sorrows and joys, but have never suffered misfortune to dampen 15 my energies, nor prosperity to elate me unreasonably ; but have always submitted to all changes as the will of kind Providence operating for my good, here and hereafter, as I consider a general run of prosperity, unalloyed by misfortune, tends to lessen our depend- ence on the protection of Divine Providence, and leading us to believe that all results from our own wisdom, calculation and exertions, which I consider erroneous, believing that all results from the Great Architect, the universal Parent and Protector of all Mankind." A Grand Old Man, whose inspiring example should not perish with the lives of the few who now remember him. Early in life he adopted as his motto, "Do right and fear not." Major Myers is buried in the beautiful family plot in Vale Cemetery, Schenectady, New York, and his tomb bears the names of his wife and ten children. The monument was designed by his son-in-law, Thomas Reed Jackson, an eminent architect of New York, husband of his daughter, Charlotte. There exist two portraits of Major Myers. A miniature painted on ivory, by Tisdale, in 1799. Age, 22 years. Portrait painted in oil, by Jarvis, January, 1810. Captain of Infantry, Acting Major, United States Army. Age, 33 years. i6 ■^.-r .-^v -Tir"'"TX <)l' i'iii:si:>Ti:i> iiv II IS W'l MOW tlirtalinrt ufrs Ills i>ArAi'<:irri:ii-ix-i.A\v ("Idnumiii ("itulorHidpsllhisiiu TO TIIK ASTOU.I.KXOX AXIITII.llKX ror.NKATIOXS '■^i IN MKMOHV OK "^^P^ ?olti*iiiiiiriio IWnU'i; ll^yrrs ^^^ .\xii HIS SOX «^ iyh lUiAur us I Jiuhni ilhirrs llhisiin LIB l-TK XAXT< OMMAXItK U i:XITEl> STATKS NAVY ^>^ J^ s f? s^ EARLY RECOLLECTIONS OF CASSIE MASON MYERS JULIAN-JAMES ONE of the first things that I remember, as a child of about four years, was sitting for my portrait painted on ivory by Carline, a deaf and dumb miniature painter of note in New York during the fifties. Watching his brush as he dipped it into the glass of water, and seeing the picture grow I won- dered if he brought me out of that glass on his brush— like a gold fish out of an aquarium, and if so, how could I be in the glass as well as seated in my chair ? For many years my dear mother wore this little portrait in a brooch. Later on I had a charming surprise, though it was somewhat marred by my own naughtiness. A doll's house had been prepared for me, furnished through- out by my mother's skillful and loving hands. Its crowning glory was a chandelier with tiny wax candles, and until these were lighted my brother Theodore and I were not to be allowed to play with it. Impatient with this delay, more on his account than my own, I delivered a tirade, which I am told was half in French and half in English. I soon found myself 75 with my high chair turned to the wall, where I remained for a time for my sins, my small ankle-ties beating an angry tattoo on the little footshelf. But, I believe, my little tempers, though violent, were quickly over. At Christmas time my mother and "Mamma Mason" trimmed two Christmas trees— one for us, and one for some little orphan children, and throughout her long life my dear mother delighted to celebrate the season in ways that made many hearts happy, both within and outside her family circle. Under our tree, fairy grottoes, or miniature farms, were set out, a whole magic world of delight to us. I now mastered two accomplishments, that of plac- ing in their proper order colored wooden blocks on which were painted the letters of the alphabet, and I learned by heart the nursery classic of the "Three Bears." In those days, to "learn one's letters" was the very first step on the path of knowledge ; and the hated multiplication table up to twelve times twelve soon followed. When visitors came, I was sometimes summoned from play to exhibit these accomplishments, when little overalls buttoning up in the back would be quickly stripped off and I would appear in dresses embroidered with exquisite skill by my mother, whose beautiful hands I scarcely remember to have seen idle. I now made one of my first appearances in society at a children's fancy ball given by our neigh- bor, Mrs. Payne. I was dressed in the complete 76 costume of a French Marquise, with powder and patches, while my brother, Theodore, two and a half years older, appeared as a Scottish Chief. Lost in the crowd of older children I was lifted and placed upon the piano beside a little boy dressed as a Marquis, no taller than myself. When urged to walk in to supper side by side, we took our places in the procession of children moving slowly toward the dining room to the accom- paniment of the march from Verdi's Lucia, music so associated in those days with childish festivities that it still calls up visions to my mind of ices and fancy cakes. I found great fault with my little partner because, as I explained to my mother, he "did not know how to c'ook his arm." Years later, in Paris, he and I met on Mr. Frederick Munroe's coach, when I was chaperoning a party of friends to Versailles. I was attracted by the voice of Mr. Gerald Hoyt, who sat behind me, and as we passed one of the hotels on the Champs Elysees, and he was informed that it belonged to the daughter of Mrs. Payne, he remarked that that name was associated with one of his earliest recollections— his first ball — when he was so small that he had been lifted to view the scene from the top of the piano. I then recognized the little Marquis, and when, greatly to his surprise, I laughingly asked him if he had improved in his manner of offering his arm, there 77 was general amusement at our respective versions of the incident. At this time, Broadway was paved with cobblestones over which thundered the Broadway omnibuses drawn by horses. The buildings lining this thoroughfare were usually from two to five stories in height, while those of six stories looked loftily down on most of their neighbors. The steeple of Old Trinity, at the head of Wall Street, now quite submerged by "sky scrapei's" towered to a dizzy height and was the first object to be seen from the deck of incoming steamers. The most facinating shop on all Broadway, as many people who where then children would agree, was Philipotteau's on the southwest corner of Nineteenth Street, a modest wooden house, with slanting roof and dormer windows, presided over by a genial old Frenchman and his wife. The door was reached by two little wooden steps leading to a platform on which at Christmas time stood Santa Glaus with a Christmas tree in his arms. In the windows, with small square panes and solid wooden shutters, were displayed the simple toys that then delighted childish eyes. Among them were no wonderful models of mechanism run by steam or electricity, but I am sure we had as much pleasure in these toys, for their slight resemblance to what they were supposed to represent gave such free play to the imagination. There were small wooden horses, with a few wisps of hair for tails and bodies painted in surpris- 78 ing colors— a polka dot pattern, usually red, being most popular; donkeys with panniers and wobbling heads, rigid white china dolls with staring eyes, flat painted curls and boots to match— all very black and shining. Noah's Arks were my delight and were the only toys with which we were allowed to play on Sun- days. The roof lifted up, and we extracted the little wooden men and women, trees, animals and birds all of uniform height and arranged them in procession in quaint illustration of the Story of the Flood. Mr. and Mrs. Noah could not be distinguished from their sons and daughters, or from each other,— for they were much like firecrackers in shape, with flat splinters of wood glued to their sides for arms, and round, thick wooden hats shading their featureless little pink faces. Story books had bright covers and pictures done m crude primary colors,— and all children knew by heart the Mother Goose Rhymes, Jack the Giant- Killer, Puss in Boots, Red Riding-Hood, the Three Bears, and other facinating and implicitly credited tales. Round glass jars, with metal covers, were filled with sticks of pink and white peppermint candy, and jujube paste was rolled and cut ofi: with shears, by measure. There were then no Brooklyn Bridges, no sub- ways, no Statue of Liberty, and the city of New 79 York was confined to Manhattan Island, below Central Park, which was then being planned and laid out. Small ferry boats carried passengers to Brooklyn and to far-off Staten Island, on which were situated many lovely summer homes. If a theater party from those distant shores delayed its supper at Delmonico's until too late for the midnight boat a tug had to be chartered — not always an easy matter — or, failing this, the alternative remained of staying in New York in evening dress until the day boats began to run. In about 1856 there lived and flourished in New York a dancing master named Charrieo. He was to be seen in the morning, wearing full evening dress, talking with animation and gesticulating with his bow— his violin under his arm. I have a distinct recollection of being presented at an early age to this rather formidable personage, in his dancing hall, a long room, with many windows, probably on the corner of Eleventh Street and Broadway. It was reached by an entrance on the side street, up long stairs of an uncompromising steepness, that seemed to little feet as unending as Jacob's ladder. At the top was a cloak room lined with square boxes to hold the little overcoats, leggings, mittens and broad brimmed plumed hats of the little dancers. A square, four- legged piano, of tinny tone, formed the orchestra, when accompanied by the violin of the professor. He placed our hands on a 80 bar extending the length of the room, and to the slow notes of the octave little feet were raised higher and higher, then slowly lowered to the floor. This was done over and over, until the pupils could keep their balance and do without support, when a polka was allowed, and the little boys presented themselves as partners. Quadrilles followed, including the long popular "Lanciers," and the afternoon ended with the Virginia Reel. Other hours were devoted to calisthenics, taught by the excellent Miss Plum. The girls wore bright scarlet Garibaldi waists, named in honor of the great Italian patriot, buttoned down the front and at the wrists with small round gilt buttons. With these were worn full striped skirts, with a band at the hem to match the waist. My blouse was copied from that of a doll brought from Paris in the time of Napoleon III and his beautiful Empress Eugenie, which, with its trousseau, was the exact replica of one at the Paris Exposition presented to the little Prince Imperial. In later years, at Lenox, I was once asked if I remembered Miss Plum and the chalk lines she marked on the floor for our feet, and how the boys used to try to jump into those that would place them beside their favorite partners. Still other afternoons were passed at the Riding Academy of Mrs. Dickel, a martial and imposing person, wearing a Kossuth hat and long feathers. 8i The orders she called out in a masculine voice, and with military abruptness, were promptly obeyed by her class of children, for the ponies were well trained to go through the drills, whether according to or against the wills of their young riders. But the maneuvers were always admired, and thought to show extraordi- nary skill by the fond parents who looked on. My brother and I, who had early been taught to ride by our grandfather, Sidney Mason, were absolutely at home on horse-back, and when music was introduced and we were sometimes placed at the head of the line, our little hearts beat with pleasure. The sewing lesson, a love for whicli had not been inherited, filled distressful hours — made bearable only by listening at the same time to stories read aloud by the governess. Our home on the corner of Eighteenth Street and Fifth Avenue was almost a detached villa, for I can recall but one house between it and the top of Murray Hill at about Fortieth Street. Opposite to our house was an open field in which was pastured a cow, but later, a pretty Gothic Church and the house of August Belmont were built there to be in their turn replaced by the many storied business building of Arnold & Constable. One of the houses associated with childish delights was that of Mr. and Mrs. Bruce on Broadway opposite to Astor Place then about the center of social activities. The grown daughters. Miss Catherine and Miss 82 Matilda delighted in giving pleasure to the children of their friends, and as their house was on the line of march for all processions of soldiers or the Fire Brigade which were of frequent occurrence, my brother and I were often invited to view them from Mrs. Bruce's windows. Chairs with cushions were carefully placed for us to kneel on, with our little bare knees, and smaller cushions made to fit the window sills were for our chins to rest on, as, with noses pressed against the glass, we joyfully awaited the music of the band. First, always came the policemen, wearing long dark blue double-breasted coats, with gilt buttons, flat military caps upon their heads, and wooden night sticks dangling from their leather belts. These were followed by a line stretching from curb to curb of sappers and miners shouldering hatchets and wearing leather aprons and tall fur caps, and then, finest of all, the band, headed by such a Drum Major as no child could forget, his long baton finished with a shining ball flung high in the air and caught and twirled with a skill known only to him. And oh, the joy of seeing the City Troops, the Seventh Regiment of militia and the Zouaves in their Turkish costume of scarlet and blue and gold. The old Hand Brigade of the Fire Department was made up of companies of men who always at the sound of the fire bells left no matter what entertainment to join their comrades, bringing with 83 them water buckets made of leather, with rope handles, on which were painted in bright colors the initials of the owners. These men wore a costume including black trousers, red shirts, and helmets of glazed black leather with brims extending far behind over the shoulders, and in front a metal shield bearing the number of the fire company. In these parades the favored beaux were often seen carrying bouquets of the round stiff variety of the day, surrounded by a flounce of paper lace and tied with floating ribbons. Companies vied with one another in the floral decora- tions of their engines which were dragged over the cobble-stone by many men tugging at the long ropes, the burnished metal glistening in the sun. But of all the procession the charming vivandiere appealed to us most in her military costume consisting of a bright, braided jacket, short ample skirts, coming to her neat shoe tops, a scarlet cap on her head, and her little keg slung across her shoulder, under her arm. These girls were often the orphan daughters of former comrades, educated at the expense of the company at the best schools and carefully watched over. Under the Metropolitan Hotel on Lower Broadway was the first theater of which I remember to have heard, Niblo's Garden. Here we saw, the Ravels, a family of remarkable acrobats in a play called "Jocko, the Educated Ape" who delighted us with his antics, and here we first made the acquaintance of Pierrot and Columbine. 84 We were taken also to the Astor Place Opera House to hear Mario and Grisi "so that we might say in after years that we had heard them." A few drives were finished in the new Central Park which was now first opened to the public, and month by month new beauties appeared, bridges, the mall with its rows of newly set out trees, rustic summer houses, groups of statuary presented by public spirited citizens, the beautiful lake on which a Venetian gondola was floating, and the fine stone terrace reached by a broad staircase at the foot of which played the great bronze fountain of Bethesda, representing ' ' the Angel troubling the pool." The road surrounding the reser- voir became a favorite race track for my grandfather and me when his Kentucky thoroughbred and my pony went round it, as I then believed, at full speed. Houses were being rapidly built on Fifth Avenue, and it became the fashionable street for residences which lined either side. From Washington Square to Central Park not a place of business appeared for many years. One can truthfully say that no where in the world existed so long a street composed of residences of such a character. I remember being taken in the carriage to study my lessons, a means of keeping me in the open air, while my mother and Mrs. Mason returned their visits stopping at almost every house between Wash- ington and Madison Squares. The house of Mrs. John C. Green on the north side of Washington Square was a typical one of red brick with high white stone steps 85 and white trimmings. From Mrs. Green's Staten Island home we often received a small trunk filled with flowers and accompanied by loving messages, and it was a delight to watch the unpacking of the trays filled with all choice flowers. I wondered why my grandfather's conservatory opening out of the dining- room did not offer the same varieties, but he explained to me that only hardy plants such as azalias and camelias could bear the temperature of the house, for the drawing-room also opened into it. Kindergardens had not yet been introduced, but when it was thought time for me to go to school I was sent as a day scholar to Miss Gibson's Select School for Young Ladies, an establishment kept by three sisters of absolutely differing types. At our wooden desks, with lifting covers and small ink wells, we sat on wooden chairs, dos a dos, while down the aisles once a week walked the writing master, correcting our copy books with a large pencil, in the end of which appeared a jewel as big as the Kohinoor. As he leaned over the desks opposite to our own we thought it an unfailing joke to wipe our pens on the long coat tails temptingly within reach, for like the dancing master he always appeared in full evening dress. Lessons in those days were studied as irksome tasks and were not imparted in a way to give pleasure as in modern days. So, when the youngest Miss Gibson rang the bell 86 for recess it was always a welcome sound. Lunch backets were opened and special friends formed groups and exchanged goodies, for any other girl's lunch seemed always to taste so much better than our own. I can remember being sent out by the older girls to a near by cake shop— Dean's, to buy the sponge cake for which he is still, I believe, famous. This I thought an exciting adventure for I was never supposed to go into the street unaccompanied. Our summei's were happily passed at my father's country home, Elm Spring, close to what is now Van Cortlandt Park. In the summer of 1908, the dear old stone house was still standing, unchanged in appearance, as I drove past it with my Aunt Charlotte and my Cousin Frances, when paying them a visit at their home in Yonkers. A new era seemed to begin when I reached the age of about fifteen, for at that time the nucleus of the danc- ing class afterwards known as the F. C. D. C— Family Circle Dancing Class, was formed by a few ladies who wished to bring together the young people who would later meet in society. The first dance was given at the house of Mrs. Adrian Iselin, and I remember that I went to it rather reluctantly, little knowing how the first strains of the "Blue Danube," the attraction of having partners, and of being engaged for dances several weeks in advance would charm me and throw childish pleasures in the shade. On aniving, my shyness was not disminished by 87 finding that the other girls wore their hair turned up in older fashion, while mine was in two long braids which my brother called pig-tails. But such trifles were soon forgotten, for I was asked by my host to be his partner for the German, and after replying some- what ungraciously that I supposed I should have to— we laugh about it still— I entered fully into the spirit of the evening and enjoyed it to my heart's content. The following are a few of the members of the class whose names I recall, and it is perhaps natural that I remember those of my partners better than those of the other girls. There were Miss Iselin, afterward Mrs. DeLancey Kane, the Misses Hamersley, and their brother Hooker, Miss Beekman and her brothers, Florence Field, afterwards Mrs. John E. Parsons, Margaret Livingston, the Schemerhorns, the Richmonds, Johnston de Peyster, Robert Livingston, John Griswold, Frank Rollins, William Waldorf Astor, Gerald Hoyt, George Morgan, James J. Van Alen, and many others. My brother Theodore was not of the number, for he had already entered the Naval Academy. As the winter went on, and flowers and bon- bonnieres began to appear, it was evident to my family that I was thinking more of such things than of my studies, and when Mrs. Mason's health required her to visit a warmer climate, I accompanied her and my mother to the West Indies. In these days the islands were in their glory, 88 for the troubles with Spain had not become acute. Old Spanish customs prevailed, and life for the upper classes was one of luxury and easy-going enjoy- ment. We visited first the Island of Porto Rico, my mother's birthplace, which had changed but little since she left it, a little girl, to come to the United States with her parents and little brother, Alphonso, to be placed at school. We now visited the homes of Mr. George Lattimer, a business associate of my grandfather, Sidney Mason. At his house in San Juan, and on his plantation, San Isidro, he did all in his power to make the visit of the three American ladies agreeable, having, in anticipation of our coming, even sent to England for a pony carriage, which was put at our disposal. I well remember our arrival at Porto Rico, when, very early one beautiful morning, we cast anchor before the walls of San Juan. Small boats surrounded the steamer and swarms of dark figures, gesticulating and smiling, oifered their services to row us ashore. Under the care of Mr. Lattimer, who had come out to the ship to meet us, we soon arrived at the stone steps leading from the water to the wharf. It was Sunday, and such a din of jangling bells as were ringing for mass from all the churches I have never since heard equalled. After a short drive we reached a large house almost overhanging the city wall. 89 It was built in Spanish fashion round a patio in which were bright flowers and a fountain. Against the wall in cages hung parrots with gay plumage whose cries mingled with the clamor of the bells. The long drawing room windows opened upon a gallery extending the length of the house, overlooking the bay. Below the wall, near the water stood my grandfather's old counting house of Mason & Thompson and across the water lay his plantation of Santa Catalina. This house, now known, I am told, as the Pink Palace was formerly the home of my grandfather and here my dear mother was born. As she looked about at well remembered objects many quaint memories revived, for here, down these very steps leading to the street, she used to go to school followed by her own little slave girl carrying her work bag. She sat beside the teacher on a small yellow chair and what was taught to one was taught to the other. In the cabinet at the National Museum may be seen beautiful drawn work made by the skillful fingers of the little slave, as well as samples worked by her young mistress. A miniature painted at this time shows a little bright eyed girl wearing a white dress and red shoes, holding out a rose which she seems to be ofi'ering to those who look at her. On Sundays, after mass, Catalina and her brother were often taken to pass the day at the palace of the Governor of the Island, a Spanish General related to their mother. On longer journeys, to the plantations, 90 the children were carried in panniers hanging on either side of a donkey or a pony. On the morning after our arrival we were greeted by one of the shocks of earthquake so common in those Islands. But it was so soon over that we were scarcely disturbed by the swaying of our beds under their long mosquito netting, and we did not see the people who rushed into the streets and fell on their knees in prayer. My mother's aunt, the Marquesa de la Esperanza gave a ball in our honor, at which she insisted on my being allowed to appear, though she regretted my youthful appearance, for I was to dance in the opening quadrille with a visiting foreigner of distinction, the eldest son of the Prince of Monaco. The house was an ideal one for a ball, and was considered the finest in San Juan. The rooms were of imposing size and height, the floors of marble, and outside the ball room was a loggia, between whose pillars and arches one looked out upon the sea. I have lately heard that the building is now used as a warehouse, and the only trace of former glories is seen in some fine wrought iron work over one of the doors, into which is introduced the coat of arms, surmounted by the coronet, of the original owners. We now went to Mr. Lattimer's plantation San Isidro where we greatly enjoyed the early morning rides, sometimes rising before dawn. The side-saddle 91 provided for me by our kind host was trimmed with red velvet and gold lace, and suggested the circus. — an example of native art that did not entirely please my taste; nor did I admire the arrangement of the furniture. To Mr. Lattimer's amusement and with his entire approval I rearranged everything according to our fashion in New York. But I afterwards learned that in so doing I had set at naught estab- lished West Indian custom. The house at San Isidro was placed on a com- manding point, over-looking miles of sugar plantations, the smoke of the refineries rising in the distance. It was approached by many steps and terraces covered with flowers. The morning glories, though perhaps not larger than those to which we are accustomed were far more beautiful, and the sensitive plant and the beef- eater were new and curious. We liked to flip our riding whips in the air to see the leaves of the former curl up, and the latter would close its flowers over bits of meat that were fed to it. But I disliked the pretty little lizards and often resigned to them inviting benches. The house, like a bungalow, had no upper story, simply an air space between ceiling and roof. One night I thought I heard mysterious footsteps over head. On learning in the morning that a large snake kept as a rat catcher inhabited the space, the complete enjoyment of my visit was henceforth marred. The heat of the day 92 on the plantation was passed indoors in shaded rooms, and refreshing drinks were served, made from the oranges, lemons and limes that grew in profusion round the house, bearing blossoms at the same time. A delicious salad was made from the heart of the palm tree, but to serve this dish, a tree had always to be sacrificed. In the evening, the slaves were often summoned from the Punta to dance for us on the terrace. They carried curious musical instruments shaped out of gourds. Grooves cut in them were scraped with bits of metal marking the time set by the bomba, a large drum. The women wore simple cotton dresses and bright colored turbans. The men wore little cloth- ing, and looked like bronze statues, reminding me of the natives that I saw at Honolulu on my journey round the world in 1906. The children wore little trunks made of coffee sacking and large pointed straw hats. All seemed strong and healthy and devoted to their master, who appeared kind to them, treating them to olives and cocoanut milk which seemed to delight them. The dances, as I remember them, seemed to be movements of the arms and body rather than the feet. I now said good bye to Porto Rico and sailed for Cuba with my mother, Mrs. Mason, and our faith- ful Sarah, who followed our footsteps for many years in many lands. After a few days on the steamer, we found ourselves on the wonderful blue waters of 93 the Carribean Sea, in the harbor of Santiago, under the walls of the Moro Castle so famous in the sum- mer of 1898 in our war with Spain. Every ship, on entering the harbor was challenged by a Spanish guard in uniform, who shouted his ques- tions through a long horn, that reminded me of the trumpets formerly carried by the New York firemen. This was repeated by other guards at every turning of the passage until the quaint city of Santiago lay before us against its background of blue sky and palm trees. We were greeted at the landing by our host, Don Jose Bueno y Blanco, a member of the Spanish Cortes. Quickly driven in two volantes to his house, we met his wife and daughters who were henceforth to be my life long friends. Silvanita married a nephew of Pope Pius IX, became Countess Pecci and went to Rome, where we often renewed our acquaintance in after years. The Bueno house stood on the corner of the street, opposite to the Cathedral, and. at the side was a large and beautiful garden. The wall around it was surmounted by an iron railing, and steps on the garden side led to the top, where we three girls— Silvanita, Letitia and myself— had infinite amusement in watching the people going in and out of the Cathedral. The long windows of the Cuban houses, through which much courting was done, were not glazed, but furnished with iron bars, inside of which were 94 wooden shutters, and curtains— but these were rarely drawn. The Cuban volantes were a charming novelty to me, with their two wheels, silver lamps and wide seat holding three persons, drawn by two hand- some yellow mules with many silver trappings. One mule was harnessed in the long shafts and led by the calesero seated on the other mule running by its side. The calesero was a pictureque figure wearing spurs and long boots coming well above the knee over the white breeches, a braided .jacket with many buttons, and a wide brimmed pointed hat. There was no more attractive sight at sunset than that presented by the drive thronged with volantes, their tops thrown back, showing to advan- tage the three ladies who usually rode in them wearing flowing ruffled skirts, high combs, lace man- tillas fastened with a single rose, their dark eyes and brilliantly colored fans in eloquent motion. The state volantes were always placed in the entrance hall by the doorway which was flush with the street and built with an alcove for the purpose. Early in the morning delicious coffee was served in our rooms, an egg being dropped into the cup and beaten with a curiously fashioned stick. At noon, the family and their guests met at an elaborate breakfast at which friends often joined them inform- ally. Desserts, in the form of delicious little cakes and tarts were served from house to house by col- ored women, gaily dressed, bearing trays upon their 95 heads, covered with long, fringed, drawn -work nap- kins, and crying as they entered "iQuien quiere cosas dulces?" The hour of the siesta, between breakfast and the drive, was passed indoors or in the patio. The children at their lessons, the ladies in light attire gathering together with sewing or embroidery, for Spanish ladies are excellent needlewomen and make much of their own lingerie. On returning from the drive a supper or high tea was served after which visitors were received. The hostess usually sat between the windows on a cane sofa mounted in mahogany, while the guests sat in rocking chairs facing one another in two lines down the room. The lighting came usually from candelabra of massive silver furnished with thick wax candles protected by tall crystal shades, often three feet in height. These were placed on mahogany tables against the walls. The floors in the best houses, and often the walls, were of marble so fashioned that the hose could be played upon them. At about nine o'clock some one would ask the hostess if she were not going to the musica, when all would rise and stroll over to the public square. Servants would have gone before to place rugs and chairs, and there seemed to exist a sort of unwritten law by which people found themselves in certain recog- nized places night after night. A delightful hour was 96 now passed in the open air listening to the music of the band, walking about, admiring the flowers and visiting other groups of friends. Dances were often given at the gentlemen's club or at private houses— people having ballrooms receiv- ing on certain nights. One of the entertainments arranged for us was an excursion to visit a number of sugar plantations belonging to friends of our host and hostess. Soon after sunrise one morning a party of about twenty ladies and gentlemen left Santiago mounted on horses, while a few, my mother among the number, preferred to drive in volantes. Arriving at the plantation long before noon we found every thing in readiness for us, and at the breakfast hour the merry party met, rested and refreshed. Chatting, dancing, and listening to music until the cool of the afternoon, then we would visit the plantation to see the sugar making. In the evening we had more music and dancing, tableaux -vi van ts, recitations and a very charming diversion called a melopea— the reciting of verses accompanied by music. This we once introduced with success at a musicale that we gave in New York for which Korbiel arranged the music of "Trovatore" to accompany Owen Meredith's poem "Aux Italiens. " When we first arrived in Santiago we found the Spanish fleet at anchor, commanded by Admiral Mendez Nunez on his flagship, the historic "Almanca. " 97 The officers, who had received many courtesies, had given a number of dehghtful dances on ship- board and now, tlie arrival of the three American ladies furnished a welcome excuse for giving another ball, this time in their honor. Possessing no long dresses at this time, a friend of my mother, who had visited us in "the States," sent me a white tarletan ball dress, made by her own fair hands and those of the needlewomen of her household. A light blue sash was worn across one shoulder in the manner of a decoration, and a wreath of small pink roses placed on one side of my head completed my toilet on the, to me, important occasion of appearing in my first long dress. It was a brilliant moonlight night when we found ourselves at the quay, where gaily decorated and cushioned boats were waiting to take us out to the flagship. Up a companionway, covered with bunting we mounted to the quarterdeck, which had been transformed into a scene of fairy-like beauty. A fountain threw water high into the air which fell back into a basin in which were sporting won- derful colored fish taken from the bay. Tropical birds were suspended in cages, and everywhere were palms, flowers and plants of every sort. In a two storied bower were stationed the ship's band and that of the Club, playing alternately. Between these bowers in colored lights, appeared the name "Cassie," and great was the pleasure of the 98 "Pollita Americana," as my Cuban friends called me, when taken on the arm of the Admiral to inspect this pretty compliment. My attention was also called to the music of a contra dansa then being played which had been composed and named "The Cassie " in my honor. It is an adaptation of the melody of Dixie, and my friends tell me it is still played in Cuba. Waltzes and polkas, in which I was continually lifted off my feet, followed one another in a mad whirl, while the Spanish Officers continued to present themselves as partners whose names I recognized years afterwards in our Spanish War at the end of the century. The Cuban climate proved of so much benefit to my grandmother, Mrs. Mason, that she returned for six weeks the following winter, taking me with hei\ This time, Cuba did not seem to me so foreign, for I had almost unconsciously learned to speak Spanish in the companionship of Silvanita and Letitia Bueno, whose daily lessons with French and Spanish professors I had shared. The older people spoke French or English fluently, for almost without excep- tion, they had been educated abroad. On our way to Santiago, the steamer touched at Manzanilla, where my fate unexpectedly awaited me in the person of Mr. Julian James who sat quietly fishing on the dock. On recognizing us, he at once boarded the ship, and I was struck with his 99 immaculate and attractive appearance, notwithstand- ing his very old coat and a Panama hat. He decided at a moment's notice to take our steamer, and after we reached Santiago, he joined, as often as he dared, the little party which he was always sure of finding in the old Bueno garden, or on the daily rides accompanied by the German governess. As he confided to me after our marriage, Julian always stationed his man where he could inform him as to the direction followed by the party on horseback and it sometimes took some maneuvering to be able to meet them coming at a decorous pace from an opposite direction. After six enchanted weeks, whose significance I scarcely realized, we sailed for home, a voyage of eleven days. Reaching the steamer on the morn- ing of our departure we found ourselves half buried in flowers and fruits, sent by our kind Spanish friends, who added birds in cages and even the horse I had been accustomed to ride, for which a stall on the ship had been built. But this last gift was returned with gracious thanks. The voyage was a rough one and many of the birds died, for we encountered a terrible gale; our state-rooms were flooded, and into them floated cages and parrots — but fortunately not the horse, which had been wisely returned. After putting in at Delaware Breakwater for coal and repairs, we arrived in New York in time to take lOO the train for West Point, in order to be present at the graduating exercises of the classes of 1868. The Army and the Navy received their diplomas together that year, and the two corps drawn up in dress parade, having just finished their competative drills, made a brilliant scene ; but the experiment was never repeated. My dress for these festivities was of white mus- lin over blue silk, my brother's class colors. The sailor hat was decorated with an anchor — his gift— and a pea jacket gave the final unmistakably naval stamp to the toilet I found prepared for me, at my brother's suggestion, by my darling mother. Now came my introduction to the beauties of West Point — not neglecting "flirtation walk." Warned by older heads against the danger of contracting the button fever, I translated the word into French and accepted it literally— at first. My card for the ball had been made out by my brother, the names of midshipmen and cadets alternating, and [these young men were chosen with such care that they remained by life- long friends as well as my brother's. Well do I remember the button favor figure, when with buttons dangling from my dress in all directions I looked up and saw my friend Mr. James who had driven over from his father's country place at Cold Spring across the river. At that moment ended all fear of what I now understood to be the button fever, for I was much piqued that Mr. James did not ask me to lOI dance— a wise stroke of diplomacy on his part, how- ever. From this evening dated his warm friendship with my brother whose admiration for Mr. James did that young man's suit no harm. On our return to New York I often rode in the park with my grandfather, when Mr. James began to join us after his Cuban fashion, often appear- ing from the opposite direction driving tandem or riding his spirited horse, Cragside. Later, we went to Saratoga and my grandfather's horses wei-e sent up the river by boat as far as Hudson when they were driven and ridden by way of Mechanicsville and Ballston Spa. At Saratoga the favorite drive was to the Lake, with a visit to Moon's for cornucopias of spotless white paper lilled with the wafer- like fried potatoes known as Saratoga chips, which were enjoyed and eaten from the paper, a glass of lemonade and two straws being served with them. Mr. James, as he afterward confessed, had taken rooms at the foot of the hill on which stood the Clarendon Hotel, where we were stopping, since the United States Hotel had been burned and not yet rebuilt. Tribes of genuine Indians, wearing a modified native dress, were a feature of many resorts in those days, and a walk to their camp, near Saratoga, was one of our amusements. Here could be bought colored baskets in all shapes and sizes, miniature canoes of birch bark, moccasins skillfully embroidered with I02 porcupine quills and beads dyed in the richest blues, greens, scarlets, yellows and purples. Small birch bark boxes containing a moist maple sugar, so dear to children, as were the plush pin cushions and boxes decorated with shells and bits of looking-glass— all of a barbaric ugliness not without charm. There were real Indian bows and arrows with which we often shot at targets, and we all took lessons in fan and basket making. A great attraction at Saratoga was the circular railway on which two little cars were worked by hand, and many were the exciting races enjoyed on it. The dances at the summer hotels, called hops, were given in the large airy, unadorned ball rooms at one end of which were platforms for the musicians. Chairs three rows deep were placed round the walls for those who wished to look on. The first two weeks in September were usually passed at West Point, when old Cousin's hotel was filled with a coterie of friends from New York who engaged their rooms in advance from year to year. I still remember with delight the wonderful moon- light nights on the broad verandas overlooking the river and yachts lying at anchor. On board these pleasure craft delightful fetes were constantly given, though there was little sailing, for the windings of the river and the variable winds, would have made the hour of return uncertain. Many of these yachts belonged to the New York Yacht Club, of which my father was an early member. 103 Before the doors of the hotel every afternoon appeared a line of well mounted private carriages, ready to take their owners to "the Point." Among them were T carts and buggies for the bachelors, an occasional heavy family barouche, basket phaetons and dog carts. At this season of the year the foliage became brilliant with the famous autumnal tints seen to perfection in the trees that lined both banks of the river. On the fifteenth of September tents were furled, figuratively speaking, and there was a general exodus to New York, where schools were ready to open. In the evenings. Mr. George Bend had usually led the cotillions that were nightly danced by New York's younger set, and now came the last one of the season, at which, to my delight, I was for once allowed to dance, and my partner was Mr. James. The next morning I returned to Mrs. Blie's, whose school was attended by some sixteen young girls, among whom were the Misses Forbes, Schemerhorn, Gandy, Stone, Kane, Spencer, Griswold of Troy, and others, including my life-long friend, Mrs. Hyde. We girls formed also a singing class taught by George William Warren, the organist and composer, for so many years connected with St. Thomas Church at Fifth Avenue and 53rd Street. There were real American Beauties among these girls. One morning there was a flutter in this dove- 104 cote when Cassie arrived for school, in Mr. James' dog cart, their engagement having just been an- nounced. The marriage tooli place the following Spring. lO.S JULIAN JAMES 1844-1870 JULIAN, son of Julia and Frederick P. James, was born in New York on August 7th, 1844, in the summer cottage of his parents, just beyond 100th Street, overlooking the Hudson, on what is now known as the Riverside Drive, New York. His short life was filled with all the beauty and happiness with which fond parents and ample means could endow it, and he showed himself worthy of their care and affection. His friends bear witness to his high ideals, scholarly mind, wide reading, and love for all manly sports ; to his courage in positions of danger and trust, and to his popularity with his class in Columbia College, that of 1865, of which he was Vice-President. He was a graduate of the School of Mines. He was Second Lieutenant in the Fifth New York State Volunteers, and was on the Roll of Honor of the Seventh Regiment, with which he went to the Civil War. He was aide-de-camp to Brigadier General G. K. Warren, in which service he carried despatches through the lines, holding the papers in his teeth, and having a horse shot under him. His gallantry was praised in letters to his father by General Sherman and other 107 distinguished officers. He was invalided to Washington from General Warren's staff, and when able to return to his home, "Cragside," at Cold Spring, opposite to West Point, he took up his studies and was gradu- ated with his class, thus in two years accomplishing the work of four. After recovering from typhoid fever, through which illness he was tenderly nursed by his mother, he sailed, accompanied by a doctor, for the West Indies. Here he met Miss Cassie Mason Myers, who, with her grandmother, Mrs. Sidney Mason, was visiting Spanish friends in Cuba. On the 17th of June, 1869, at her grandfather's home, on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 18th Street, New York City, they were married by the Rev. Dr. Samuel Cooke, rector of St. Bartholomew's Church, then on the corner of La Fayette Place and Great Jones Street. The bridegroom's steam yacht, "Fire-fly," lay ready to take them up the Hudson to his father's estate, opposite to West Point, where, under the shadow of old "Crow's Nest," they passed a delight- ful summer. They were met at the station by Mr. James' man, Sam Smith, who, until his death in Washington, forty years later, most faithfully served Mrs. Julian -James and her parents. In the home in Washington Sam always delighted to serve the former friends of his young master, John Hay and Bishop Satterlee. io8 At the home of Mr. James' parents, 400 Fifth Avenue, on the eve of his departure with his bride for the West Indies, he succumbed to an illness contracted during his service in the Civil War. He was placed in the James' family vault, at Cold Spring, where a chapel was later erected to his memory and that of his brother, Frederick. The following resolutions were adopted at a special meeting of members of his class in 1870 : WliPrPaS. the hand of Death has removed from us our friend and classmate, Julian James, Scanlbril, That as fellow-countrymen, we mourn the loss of one who, as a soldier, gallantly devoted his best energies to the suppression of rebellion, in the arduous and self-sacrificing performance of which patriotic duty were sown the seeds of disease which caused his death. ScaolliriJ, That as warm friends and classmates, we grieve for one whose noble and generous character won the love, admiration and esteem of all who knew him, and in whom honor, virtue and manhood united to mark and grace a Christian gentleman. ScsolbPil. That, recognizing in his loss the hand of God, we tender his sorrowing family our deep and earnest sympathy. Lenox Smith William Gillman Low John Moore Heffernan Henry Rutgers Beekman Committee 109 On Fifth Avenue, one day when I was walking home from school, I saw passing me a dog-cart with a fair, handsome man and a very pretty young girl, my cousin Cassie and her future husband. Shortly after, one Sunday, they stopped at our home on their way from church. I remember how sweetly she looked, the rose in her hat just above the left ear, how brightly he talked, and how supremely happy they seemed, so well suited, one so dark, the other so fair. From time to time I saw them, and then came the wedding. How eagerly we anticipated it, how beautiful it seemed to us, my sister and me. Often I have stood beneath the memorial window in St. Bartholomew's Church, New York, and looked at his name, and thought of him whose life was so brief, whose memory has been so enduring. On the wall of the home in Washington hangs a painting which I admire more than almost any of my cousin's possessions — the portraits of a young girl and her lover. So I think of them together, though one I knew so slightly, the other has been an inspiration and a guide through life — and I know that some day I shall see them again together as they look out at me now from the pictui'e on the wall. Frances Alice Jackson. July 26th, 1907. Ill SIDNEY MASON 1799-1871 QIDNEY MASON, son of John Mason, was born ^ October 22, 1799. He was a direct descendant of Captain Hugh Mason, who came to this country from Ipswich, England, in 1634, and settled in Watertown, now a part of Cambridge, Massachusetts, out of Boston. The old Mason house is still standing inside the grounds of Harvard College, and the tombstones marking the graves of Hugh Mason and of others of the family are the oldest in the Watertown burying ground. . Hugh Mason's son Joseph, born in 1646, had a son Joseph, born in 1688 ; his son Josiah, born 1734, had a son John, born 1769, who was the father of Sidney Mason and his two brothers, Alphonso and John. Major John Mason, the father of Sidney Mason, the subject of this sketch, was prominently identified with the municipal affairs of Gloucester, Massachusetts. He had a strong will and striking traits of charac- ter which were inherited by his son Sidney. The latter at the age of twelve years, said to his father that he wished to be confirmed, and that he then thought it time he went to Boston in search of employment by '13 which he might be able to support himself. The boy's mother had died when he was a child and his father had married again. Obtaining his parent's consent, Sidney set forth on the stage coach, running between Gloucester and Boston, the driver of which took him to the office of one of the most prominent merchants in that city, and when asked what he would like to do, he replied that he would take any position they would give him. He was forthwith directed to polish the brasses, which he did with such good will that he remained in the employ of this firm for several years, promoted from time to time, and attaining an important clerk- ship, after which he went as super-cargo to the West Indies where he at last settled at San Juan, Porto Rico, in 1820. He was appointed United States Consul at San Juan during the administration of President Jackson, and continued in this service until 1835 when he returned to this country. A copy of the President's commis- sion to him as Consul at San Juan is now on file at the State Department in Washington. While residing in Porto Rico he married Marequita Benito Dorado, the daughter of Senor Don Jose Dorado and Senora Doria Catalina Dorado, who came from old Spain. Mrs. Mason was considered remarkable for her beauty, grace of manner, and charming, lovable dis- position. 114 In 1835 Mr. Mason returned to America, bringing with him his wife and his two children, whom he wished to place at school. He fitted out one of his sailing vessels for this purpose and furnished it with all possible comforts. The voyage passed safely, but the harsh New England climate proved too severe for Mrs. Mason— a delicate tropical flower transplanted. She survived it but a short time, dying at Gloucester, Massachusetts, where she is buried. A monument to her memory bears her name and that of her little son, Alphonso Sidney, who died at the age of twelve years when at school in New York. After the death of his young wife, Mr. Mason gave up all business interests and placing his little daughter Catalina in the Convent of Mount Benedict, Charlestown, Massachusetts, and his son Alphonso Sidney, at Peugnet's then famous school for boys in New York, set forth on an extended tour of Europe. In London he caused to be built for his use a traveling carriage which could be transported over the mountain passes on the backs of mules ; for traveling was then less easy, though much more picturesque than now. Several years were passed in restlessly going from place to place through Germany, France, Switzer- land, Spain and Italy, until the sad news of the death of his only son brought him to America once more. He arrived to learn of a second loss, that of his brother Alphonso, who had hastened to New York on news of his nephew's illness and in returning to 115 Boston went down on the ill-fated steamer, "Lexing- ton." Upon Mr. Mason's return to the United States, he took up his residence in New York, and removing his daughter from Miss Willard's famous school in Troy, he placed her at the Misses McClen- nachan's, not far from his home, which he now established at Number 3 College Place. The house was filled with old furniture and beautiful pictures brought from Europe, also portraits painted by Anelli of his wife, with a rose in her hair which accentuated her Spanish beauty to perfec- tion; another, of his charming little dark eyed boy whom he had lost ; one of the father of his wife in court dress and decorations, and he also possessed a rare library. These treasures made his home one of the most attractive at that time in the city. He was exceedingly fond of horses, and a fine whip, as well as an accomplished rider. He was to be seen daily on horse-back, and later became one of the well known figures on the bridle-paths in Central Park, in whose laying out by Olmsted he was much interested. Mr. Mason's second wife was Miss Catherine Gartz Robb, of Warrenton, Virginia, a schoolmate of his daughter, and a beautiful and accomplished girl. Shortly after the marriage of his daughter Catalina to Mr. Theodorus Bailey Myers, of New York, Mr. Mason purchased and removed to the house No. 132 Fifth Avenue, next the northwest ii6 corner of 18th Street, which was then becoming a most desirable part of the city. The house, which was built of white marble, became in later years a landmark, when the adjoining property on the corner of 18th Street was added and the house enlarged by the building of a library, billiard-room and conserva- tory. Mrs. Mason, who was devoted to music, had a sweet voice, and the house was for many years a center for lovers of music. She formed a singing class taught by Albitez comprising the amateur talent of the day, and Mr. Mason was one of the first to have a box at the Opera, then situated at Astor Place. His home was always one of hospitality where his friends, as well as foreigners of distinction who brought letters of introduction, were entertained. He was one of the oldest members of the Union Club, then at the northwest corner of Fifth Avenue and 21st Street, but he made but one visit to it in the course of a year. This occasion was New Year's Day on which he walked through the rooms, wishing his many friends "A Happy New Year," paid his yearly dues, and walked out, not to appear again for another twelve month. He would then remark that he had done his duty to clubdom, and that he pre- ferred to have his evening game of billiards at home. The appointments of his house were considered quite perfect. At that time the household included a chef, Maillard, a brother of the famous confectioner 117 of that name, whose estabhshment still flourishes under the Fifth Avenue Hotel, on Broadway and Madison Square, between 23rd and 24th Streets. There were also a French maid, a butler, Georges Lecalatel, and his wife, who remained in Mr. Mason's service for thirty years, a laundress, coachman and footman. The house stood back from Fifth Avenue, with a garden in front enclosed with a high railing finished by spear heads, inside of which were a hedge and trees, giving it the appearance of a villa. While the interior was filled with works of art, and beautiful furniture, some of which was made of mahogany from Porto Rico, and grown on his plantation— Santa Catalina, San Juan, and fashioned from designs selected during his visits to Europe. At the rear of the house was built a model stable where were kept his well known cream colored horses, Fanny and Kate, his Arabian saddle horse. Count, which he brought from the West Indies, his daughter's saddle horse, Duke, and a white pony, Billy, which his brother, John Mason, of Philadelphia, had imported from Porto Rico and which served as a saddle pony to the grandchildren. In his daily rides, first with his daughter, and later with his grandchildren, Cassie Mason Myers and Theodorus Bailey Myers Mason, he was often joined by his friend George Bancroft, the historian, or by Mr. Olmsted. Mr. Mason was much interested in the development ii8 of the Metropolitan Museum for so many years housed in a brown stone building on West 14th Street. He was devoted to his home, his wife, daughter and grand- children, as well as to his son-in-law, Theodoras Bailey Myers. He passed several summers in a cottage in the grounds of the United States Hotel at Saratoga, and at Sharon Springs, thus giving up the summer home on Staten Island. Mr. Mason was for many years President of the Sixth Avenue Railway— the first street railway inaugu- rated in New York. Its cars were at first drawn by mules, then by horses, and much later by electricity. On retiring from this position, Mr. Mason was suc- ceeded by his son-in-law, Theodorus Bailey Myers. For seventeen years Mr. Mason was a Director in the National Fire Insurance Company, as well as in the Manhattan and Home Companies, a Director of the Leather Manufacturers Bank and a prominent member on the Boards of many public institutions. Although possessed of a strong character, and somewhat stern manner,— he rarely smiled,— Mr. Mason inspired the warm attachment of many friends, and having won a reputation for remarkably good judg- ment, his advice was often sought. The intrinsic kindness of his nature was shown in his love for children and animals, and in the confidence he always inspired. He was able to control the most restless horses, and many who were children then, still remember with pleasure the rides 119 he gave them in his sleigh when driving his four bay horses decked with the solid silver bells having an unusually musical sound, which had been presented to him by a Spanish friend. The sleigh was usually full to overflowing for he always found "room for one more." His granddaughter, Mrs. Julian-Jamef, recalls a never-to-be-forgotten incident of her childhood which illustrates one of her grandfather's most striking traits,— his business integrity. It was his strict rule to allow nothing to be worn in his family until paid for. In those days, it was the custom to wear new spring clothes for the first time on Easter Sunday, and the small Cassie had a beautiful hat selected with loving care by her mother and her "Mamma Mason" at Genning's, the fashion- able milliner's far down on Broadway. Late on Saturday afternoon the hat arrived, and the little girl carried it with expectant pride to be admired by her grandfather. To her dismay, he at once inquired for the bill, and when a search for it in the box proved fruitless, his face became grave, and the following dialogue ensued: "Missy, — do you intend to wear that hat to church to-morrow ? ' ' "Why, yes, papa Mason." "And how will you feel when Mr. Genning looks at you as you sit in the pew and says to himself, ' The hat that that young lady is wearing belongs to me.' " I20 ^ I # -^ The child pondered for a moment, and then, conquering her bitter disappointment she replied with an air of resolution which mightily pleased her grand- father, "I do not care to wear Mr. Genning's hat — I will wear my old one." On Monday morning the little girl was invited by her grandfather to accompany him, with her nurse, Adeline, on his way down town. Children delighted to ride in the lumbering Fifth Avenue omnibus, drawn by horses over the jolting cobble stone pave- ment, and little Cassie enjoyed the treat till they drew up at Genning's store, under the old Metropolitan Hotel. On entering, Mr. Mason observed a delighted expression on his granddaughter's face as she gazed at a little imported pink silk parasol displayed in the window. He went to the desk, and making it well understood that in future all bills were to be sent with the purchases, he asked to see the pink parasol, and having its price added to the bill for the hat, he paid for both and handed the parasol to the child, who remembers her delight to this day, as well as the wholesome lesson thus taught. The return home in another rumbling omnibus was a still more blissful progress. In those days omnibuses were decorated in the fashion of the time with small oil paintings over the windows and on the panel of the swinging door, which the driver controlled by a strap attached to his foot. These pictures, probably inspired by the decora- tion of court carriages and sedan chairs in olden days, were often painted by artists of merit, as pot-boilers, in the beginning of their careers. They filled the spaces now occupied by advertisements — a doubtful improvement on the little landscapes with their blue skies, purple mountains, placid lakes and inevitable boats with white sails faithfully reflected, and the white and scarlet and black daubs of paint which represented the inhabitants of these rustic scenes. On the 8th of May, 1871, at his home, 130 Fifth Avenue, New York, Sidney Mason's useful, varied, and successful life of seventy-two years came to an end. The funeral services were conducted by the Rev. Dr. Cook, of St. Bartholomew's Church, of which Mr. Mason and his family had long been parishioners. He was carried to Greenwood, where he lies in the Mason mausoleum on Dale Water Lake, Greenwood Cemetery, New York. Helen Mason 122 GENERAL THEODORUS BAILEY /GENERAL THEODORUS BAILEY, son of Lieu- ^^-* tenant Colonel John Bailey and his wife, Altie Van Wyck, was born in Peekskill, New York, on October 12, 1758. Theodoras was a family name, it having been borne by members of the Van Wyck family since the marriage of the Reverend Johannis Theodoras Polhemus and Anna, daughter of Cornelius Van Wyck, in 1654. Dr. Polhemus was the first minister of the Dutch Reformed Church on Long Island. At the age of twenty the young Theodorus was Adjutant of the fourth Regiment Dutchess County Militia, his commission being dated May 28, 1778, and he was again commissioned on promotion to the First Regiment, October 10, 1779. Soon after the war ended he was elected a Representative and served in the 3d, 4th, 6th and 7th sessions of the Federal Congress, 1793-'97; 1799-1803. In 1800- '01, he is said to have been carried to the House of Representatives, being ill, to cast the deciding vote of the New York delegation which prevented the election of Aaron Burr and sub- sequently brought about that of Jefferson. 123 \ In 1803 he was elected United States Senator — but after a year's service at Washington he resigned to accept the office of Postmaster of New York City, in which position he remained until his death September 6, 1828. A writer in the Commercial Advertiser, who evidently knew the Postmaster, speaks of him as "having no enemies and many friends." He married three times. First, Elizabeth Hoffman, who had four children ; second, Rebecca Tallmadge, who had three ; and third, Martha McWhorter, who had but one child. Of these eight children, one died on the coast of Africa, one in the Feejee Islands, while a third was lost, with his wife, on the ill-fated "Lyonaise." Three children left descendants: Captain James Bailey, United States Army, who married Miss Hoster ; Ann Eliza, who married Arthur Bronson ; and Catharine Rebecca, who became Mrs. William Cecil Woolsey. Katharine Mimmack 124 REAR-ADMIRAL THEODORUS BAILEY REAR-ADMIRAL THEODORUS BAILEY was the son of Judge William Bailey and Phoebe Piatt, his wife, and was born in Chateaugay, New York, on April 12, 1805. He was named for his uncle. General Theodorus Bailey. He received his early education at the Plattsburg Academy. The excitement caused by McDonough's great victory over the British fleet at Plattsburg, in 1813, turned his mind to the naval service as a future career. In 1818 he became a midshipman and saw his first service off the coast of Africa, later visiting every quarter of the globe. In seven years, between 1828 and 1835, he went around the world twice. In the interval between these voyages he married his cousin, Sarah Ann Piatt, on June the 23d, 1830, His first independent command was that of the "Lexington," at the beginning of the Mexican War. Among the officers he conveyed to the scene of action, by the long route around Cape Horn, were Tecumseh Sherman, Edward Ord and Henry W. Halleck, who later in life distinguished themselves as Civil War generals. On this voyage his nephew, Algernon Sidney Myers, accompanied Captain Bailey, as his secretary. 125 From 1853 to 1855 Captain Bailey commanded the U. S. S. "Saint Mary's", in the Pacific, being con- stantly in diplomatic negotiation with the South American countries and the Islands of the Pacific. The best known incident of Admiral Bailey's career is connected with the taking of New Orleans, under Farragut, during the Civil War. He was second in command, but came near being left behind owing to an illness which the doctors reported would render it dangerous for him to exert himself. He refused to abide by their decision, however, and as his flagship, the "Colox'ado", drew too much water for the Missis- sippi at that place he accepted Captain Harrison's offer of the "Cayuga". On the night of April 24th, 1862, the little gunboat, practically unsupported, steamed off far ahead of the heavier and more awkward vessels, made its way up the river, escaping fire rafts, batteries and a flotilla of gunboats, being struck forty-two times. The other ships followed later, and on the 25th the fleet anchored in front of New Orleans. Captain Bailey and his Lieutenant, George H. Perkins, were landed from a small boat to demand the surrender of the city. Amid a murderous crowd, with pistols, knives and guns shaken in their faces, they walked calmly to the City Hall, feeling that each breath was in all probability their last, and interviewed Mayor Monroe and General Lovell. For his distinguised bravery on this occasion he was given command of the Eastern Gulf Blockading 126 Squadron, where he proved exceptionally efficient, and interested himself in matters on shore as well as on sea. It happened that the church at Key West was Episcopal and had a loyal rector but secessionist vestrymen, who voted themselves in year by year. The Admiral hearing of this, assembled his offi- cers (it being a free church, giving all who attended the right to vote) and marched them to the annual meet- ing the first Monday after Easter, to the great chagrin of the secessionists who had assembled to vote each other in. For that year the rector had a loyal vestry. In 1864 yellow fever visited the fleet with terrible mortality, and after a severe attack the admiral was transferred to the command of the Navy Yard at Portsmouth. His last years were passed in Washing- ton, and he died February 10th, 1877. He had never known fear or favor, was just, generous, humorous and deservedly one of the most popular men in the service. He had five children ; Anna, who married Walter R. T. Jones ; Theodora ; Sarah, who married T. Salter Tredick ; Margaret ; and Edmund Smith, who married first, Mary McKnight, and second, Susan Kirk- land. Katharine Mimmack 127 m i llCf Ui'CCi c U-c, J(c fax . . vfe c^jz^ : 4rrr(rcidr^^ ;^^^r.^y ^tfoi^ Aw/v/. I hiru dr^k {(\ f Circe ^ ^ f^^ //cTdCiCac c o Ollftu ULud. . . r ^ . y -77y Ufinz C{rfi3i MAJOR M. MYERS UNITED STATES ARMY No. Sword, silver mounted, used during the War of 1812 2076 Shoe buckles 2032 Masonic relics : Jewel and red ribbon of Past Grand Master 243 Apron of Past Grand Master 244 Writing desk, mahogany, brass bound, used during the War of 1812 White and gold plates, cup and saucer, a por- tion of a service of thirty covers belonging to Major Myers and to his wife, Charlotte Bailey 2063 Book, Reminiscences, 1782-1814 THEODORUS BAILEY MYERS. Service sword United States Army, used dur- ing the Civil War 2077 Signet ring, T. B. M. ornamented by mermaid 4533 Gold badge of Fire Commissioner and report of Fire Department 4486 Gold and black enameled sleeve links, T. B. M. New York Yacht Club buttons of the year 1852 4544 Staff buttons and eagles 2038 Purse with gold rings knit by his wife, Catalina Juliana Mason 2042 Bronze medal (in case) endowed by a fund contributed by James Gordon Bennett, Mr. Myers and Mr. Hone, Trustees 4487 133 No. Book plate of his collection of Americana 2036 Ring of the Honorable Theodorus Bailey, United States Senator, 1803, who was also first Postmaster of New York 246 Three section spy glass used at the battle of New Orleans by Captain Theodorus Bailey, United States Navy 4531 Book, History Set Right 4355 MRS. THEODORUS BAILY MYERS NEE Catalina Juliana Mason. Silver pap-bowl ( bread and milk ) 4537 Mull dress 1986 Mittens 1988 Pearl fan 1989 High comb 1991 White veil 1992 Gold necklace, and 2046 Bracelets or sleeve links 2047 Pin containing hair of little brothers, Alphonso, Sidney. Sampler worked by Catalina when at school in Porto Rico. 2075 Drawn work made by her maid, lona, a native of Porto Rico 2072 Crochet work by lona 2075 Prayer book bound in blue velvet Gold enameled miniature watch, black case, marked with mermaid and letter M., gift from her father-in-law, Major Myers, 4384 134 No. Agate bracelet and locket 4356 Pin with the name of Cassie in diamonds, rubies, and sapphires, 4346 Silver bouquet holder, received from her hus- band with her wedding bouquet. 2052 Mosaic bracelet 2063 Gold thimble 2048 Light amber tortoise shell opera glasses, inlaid with gold 4354 Light tortoise shell comb with wings 4357 Light yellow shell lorgnette with monogram, brought for his mother by Commander Theodorus Bailey IMyers Mason, 4364 Pair of gold earrings 4564 Tortoise shell ear trumpet and glasses com- bined. 4363 Gold chatelain bag with gold hook, containing handkerchief and card 4361 Gold card case Gold belt buckle 4360 Mosaic sleeve buttons 4366 India shawl 4368 India shawl 4369 India shawl 4372 The folloiving articles are in a trunk not to be opened for fifty years Parasol with tortoise shell handle, carved monogram "C.J. M." black lace cover 4373 Fan painted on parchment 2997 Chinese crape shawl 1998 135 No. Blue silk slippers embroidered by Mrs. Myers for her daughter in 1869 2066 Black satin slippers, rhinestone buckles 2008 Hair net interwoven with gilt crystals 2009 Crystal hair ornaments 2010 Gilt combs Lavender silk from part of Mrs. Myers' trousseau, 1847 1993 Mull tucker and sleeves 1994 Apron, green silk and black lace 1995 Silk dress, plum colored, made by Worth, of Paris, and worn 1870 2007 Gray satin and lace tea gown, worn 1905 4383 Black mittens, velvet wristlets 2079 LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER THEODORUS BAILEY MYERS MASON Service sword, worn 186S 1886 2078 Christening robe 1999 Baby's bottle 2000 Baby's cap 2002 Baby's shirt 2003 Diamond pin, name "Theodorus," with his hair Hat band of the ship he loved, the "New York" 4347 Scarf pin, jade intaglio 4348 Two small silver fouled anchors 4539 One embroidered star j From his '^^^^ One gold cap cord > midshipman's 4541 One belt buckle and button j uniform 4542 136 CASSIE MASON MYERS JULIAN-JAMES No. Christening robe worn in 1853 2005 Pearl and diamond necklace and locket, with miniature of Julian -James, in white velvet case, gold monogram " C. M. M."and date "1868" 4350 Silver cup, marked " Cassie Mason," from her uncle John Mason 4535 Scotch mull box 4532 Gold opera glasses, diamond monogram 4353 Gold and silver belt buckle with rhinestones 4380 Gold bracelets, onyx with diamond letters, given to Cassie by her mother, June 17, 1869 Miniature watch, with bow-knot pin encrusted with diamonds 4349 Little gold thimble Roman fork 1987 India shawl, wedding gift of T. B. Myers to his daughter 4370 Parasol with ivory handle, on which is gold monogram " C. M. M.," black lace cover 4374 Chatelaine bag, glass beads, silver mounted 4376 Carved amber tortoise shell card case 4377 Chinese palanquin pin 4379 Long gloves 1908 White satin slippers and white silk stockings 2013 2014 White velvet bonnet, 1880 2016 Light tortoise shell crescent comb, brought from Japan by T. B. M. M. to his sister 4358 137 No. Dress of lace work on pinia (pineapple) cloth made in Spain in duplicate of one made for and worn by Isabella 2nd, Queen of Spain ; imported to Porto Rico for Mrs. Sidney Mason ; worn in 1889 by her grand- daughter, Mrs. Julian- James, in Washing- ton, D. C. Two beaded hand satchels worked by Mrs. Sidney Mason, 2d. Dress of white watered silk, made by Worth, of Paris. Worn in 1870. The very old Rose Point de Venise with which the dress was trimmed, was willed by Mrs. Sidney Mason, 2d, to Mrs. Julian-James, who donated it, together with her mother's, Mrs. Theo- dorus Bailey Myers, wedding veil of white Chantilly and her own shawl of point lace applique, worn as her wedding veil, to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York 2012 JULIAN JAMES, Second Lieutenant Company D, Fifth New York Volunteers, Aide-de-camp to General Warren, United States Army. Naval night-glass used on his yacht, "Fire Fly" 4530 Ebony box 2021 Handkerchief 2022 Gloves 2023 Necktie 2024 Pair of sardonyx cuff buttons, mounted in gold monogram "J.J." cut on stone His slipper when a baby 2026 138 SIDNEY MASON. When Consul From The United States To Porto Rico, 1829. No. Sword with mother of pearl inlaid handle 1959 Chapeau 1957 Coat 1956 Trousers 1955 Handkerchief 1958 Gold Watch with miniature of his wife, Mari- quita Doi'ado (between the two cases which can be opened with point of pin). Mer- maid engraved on case 4351 Watch, chain and locket, turquoise Gold watch chain with slides Ivory handled sword cane 1.962 Gold single eye glass Stick pin, topaz and turquoise 2059 Gold mounted snuff box made from a rafter that supported the roof of the Hall of Independence, July 4, 1776. Presented to Sidney Mason by George Plitt. Apron of Master Mason Gold mounted purse 1961 •39 MRS. SIDNEY MASON, 1st NEE MARIQUITA DORADO No. Split wedding ring White satin ball dress embroidered in gold, from Porto Rico (when Miss Benito Dorado) 1964 Slippers and Stockings 1965-1966 Fan, pearl sticks and feathers 1967 Handkerchief 1968 Tortoise shell Spanish comb with gold 2054 Lace mantilla and gold pins 1971 2053 Opera glasses of gold, in case 1973 Ivory card case Gold chain, topaz cross 1975 Gold chain bracelet topaz Gold and topaz earrings and pin 2056 Thimble 2048 Gold belt buckle The following articles are in a trunk not to be opened for fifty years Walking dress 1977 Silk embroidered stockings to match 1981 Parasol of white satin, embroidered 1983 Gold cross with hair 2062 ALPHONSO SIDNEY MASON. Silver mug 4538 Child's suit of silver gray satin 1984 Ivory castinets used when dancing with his little sister Catalina 1990 140 DON JOSE DORADO and his wife, Mother and Father of Mrs. Sidney Mason, 1st No. Cut glass pitcher and bowl 2055 Silver pitcher and bowl 11244 Carved cane 2165 Two foreign decorations, miniature cross of the Legion of Honor 4534 One Spanish scabbard 4535 Gold square single eye glass with long gold chain (strong enough, it is said, to hang a man) with gold slides 4352 String of carved jet beads 4359 Hair belt with silver clasp 2017 Carved cocoanut bowl 2071 Pin containing hair 4485 MRS. SIDNEY MASON, 2nd NEE Catherine Gartz Robb Blue Bohemian cut glass vase engraved with portrait of Mrs. Sidney Mason. Red Bohemian cut glass vase engraved with portrait of Sidney Mason 20G7 The following articles were given by Mrs. Mason to Mrs Jiilian-Jaines Gold Mandolin watch inlaid with pearls, with gold chain and little key in old case, said to have belonged to Marie Antoinette 4378 India shawl 4371 141 THEODORUS BAILEY, United States Senator. Ring with hair and gold monogram. THEODORUS BAILEY, Rear Admiral United States Navy. Spy glass, in three sections. 142 -v