Tad Lincoln's Father

Chapter 4

four Before the Lincolns came to Washington I had attended Madame Smith’s exclusive French school at Number 223 G. Street. It was a big, dark house said to have been the quarters of the Russian Embassy years before.Therewasadarkstainonthefloorofourschoolroom,whichhad once been the banqueting hall of the Embassy, and it was whispered that this stain had been caused by the blood of two Russian officers who had fought a duel on the spot for the favor of a beautiful Russian countess. I remember we did not like to sit over this stain but it added romance and delightful thrills to our existence in the old house. It was said that one had to know who her great-great-grandfathers were to enter this school, but as I had a long line of eligible ancestors, the Halseys and Tafts and Cooks, not to mention Peregrine White on one side and the Earls of Taafe and Barons of Ballymote on the other, I was acceptable. When my father and mother were making their farewell bows and compliments at the door on the day I entered the school, a young girl about my age dashed in from the hall and said, “When they ask you anything say, ‘Qu’est ce, que c’est?’ Say it, ‘Caska say.’ ” I said it. “That’s right,” she went on encouragingly; “say it to yourself so you won’t forget it. It means, ‘What is it?’ If you can speak a little bit of French, they will be easier on you and you won’t get black marks.” The Madame swept me into the schoolroom, introduced me with great ceremony, and gave me a seat. A teacher came and reeled off a few yards of French. I repeated my talisman. She smiled and said, 22 tad lincoln’s father “Oui” several times, then led me to a class I afterwards knew as “first conversation.” It was the rule that only French could be spoken by the pupils in the school. This applied to our conversation with each other in the gymnasium and between classes. If Madame or the teachers overheard us using a word of English, a dreaded black mark was set down opposite our name in Madame’s little black deportment book. It was difficult at first for one who knew only English and had to depend on a few faultily pronounced French words andthesignlanguagetomakeoneselfunderstood,butitwasremarkable the short time it took me, under these adverse circumstances, to pick up the language. Besides speaking French, we were taught deportment, to stand and sit properly in what was then regarded as a ladylike manner, to dance with a train and at the completion of the dance drop the train and give it a little backward kick out of the way and sweep gracefully to our seat. We were drilled in the court curtsy which, repeated over and over under the critical eye of Madame, was in itself a healthy form of calisthenics,asgoodasanymodernformofsetting-upexercises;wewere taught the mysteries of the receiving line, precedence as necessary to the Washington hostess, and the proper forms of social correspondence. Of course, incidentally, we formed some acquaintance with the “three R’s,” history, literature and other studies, but these were not the important subjects in Madame Smith’s curriculum. My father thought no young lady should come out in Washington society unless she could speak at least two languages beside her own, so he had me taught Spanish by a private tutor. When the Prince of Wales, afterwards Edward VII, was in Washington on a visit to this country, he visited Madame Smith’s school. It had an unusually fine gymnasium for those days and he asked to play a game of tenpins with the girls. I was one of three told off to play with him. He chattered gaily with us, speaking French fluently, and when I made a ten-strike he bowed to me with his hand on his heart. He was traveling incognito under the name of Lord Renfrew, so we were solemnly warned not to call him “Your Royal Highness” or to intimate in any way that we even guessed the dread secret that he was the heir to the British throne. We addressed him as “My Lord” and did our best to tad lincoln’s father 23 act as though he was merely Lord Renfrew and not the most important young...