Editor’s Note: The
section on Kate Chase (1840-1899) is an
excerpt from “Famous American Belles of the Nineteenth Century,” It was written
more than 115 years ago and published in 1900 by Virginia Tatnall Peacock. The
gushing style was not unusual for the late 1800s, especially because few
American women achieved public adulation and the emotional fact the book was
finished six months after Kate Chase’s death. The book has been digitalized for
modern reading by Project Gutenberg. The
work is in the public domain.
Part I The Early Years
“...thus to the eye was
Kate Chase, whose fame then superseded that of every woman in Ohio, and was
shortly to surpass that of every woman of her generation in America.” –Virginia
Tatnall Peacock.
There was a name in America a little more
than a generation ago that possessed a power amounting almost to enchantment,
the name of Kate Chase, a woman who holds a unique place in both the political
and social history of this century. The story of her life, between the high
lights of its early days and the shadows in which it closed, presents a
peculiar succession of superlatives. There stands forth, however, through all
its changes, one unvarying dominant feature which must strike us at once,
whether we approach it in the spirit of a student or actuated merely by a
passing curiosity: her absolute devotion to her father.
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Kate Chase, 1860
From photograph by Julius Ulke
|
Through our knowledge of him, therefore, we may, in a measure, penetrate those mists in which she is enveloped by the divided opinion of a public, some of whom loved and idealized her as a social divinity, while others hated and maligned her as an opposing political force. Thus may we reach some just valuation of a character that with its man's virility and woman's delicacy was in itself singularly enigmatical, of its incentives and ideals, and, indirectly, therefore, of the failure and disappointments which have left their indelible stamp upon the life of Kate Chase.
In her father, profoundly cultured and endowed with inexhaustible intellectual resources, she found the complete realization of her
most exalted conception. She well knew the tenderness of the heart, the
sensitiveness of the nature, he carried beneath that superb exterior of
majestic and unapproachable dignity. She lived in close communion with the man,
the angry rebuke of whose eye, says one of his biographers, no transgressor
could support. She was the central feature of his remarkable home.
Upon both of his daughters he expended a tenderness of
devotion of which those who lived beyond the sphere of a personal acquaintance
with him had no conception. Yet there have been inconspicuous women whom he
might have fathered with more ultimate happiness to themselves than the
remarkable daughter who is the subject of this sketch. Though he was a great
man, winning justifiable distinction in every branch of the government of his
country, he was yet not competent to cope with the problems which the life of
such a woman as Kate Chase was continually presenting.
MODERN READING: In his brilliant
historical novel “Lincoln,” author Gore Vidal details Washington society,
especially the life of 20-something Kate Chase in Washington DC during the
Civil War.
In her presence alone, in the proud carriage of her regal
head, there was that singular power that, while it drew forth the love and
admiration that are the expression of a generous nature, likewise provoked in
those of a baser order a hideous envy and hatred that assailed her even as a
young girl. With his benignant belief in the universal goodness of mankind,
Chase was singularly deficient in that knowledge of human nature which should
have enabled him to throw about her that sort of aggressive protection which
she peculiarly required.
There is one little incident in his life that throws light
upon his own character, and upon the principle he pursued in directing his
daughter. He was a man of the most delicate tastes and with a high appreciation
of all the niceties of life. When he took the platform as an abolitionist, he
was rotten-egged. Removing as much as possible of the offensive effusion with
his handkerchief, he continued with what he was saying. He made no modification
in his statements, nor did he close the window through which the unsavory
missiles had made their entrance. As far as possible he ignored the occurrence.
The scandal-monger he treated with the same silent scorn,
continuing the tenor of his life as if he had not been made aware of his
existence. But while he, a courageous man, might walk fearlessly amid the storm
of the angry nation that impeached Andrew Johnson, and, regardless of its
threats, discharge the duties of his high office with that calmness that
distinguished all the acts of his judicial career and adds to the glory of his
name in the eyes of a later generation, his daughter, though no less
courageous, was yet "too slight a thing" to defy the gossips of even
one Western town.
"Ah! little woman," she once said, laying her hand
on the shoulder of one of her loyal friends to whom sorrow had come, "you,
at least, have never made the mistake that I made. I never cared for the
opinion or good-will of people. I ran my head against a stone wall. It did not
hurt the wall but it has hurt the head." This is perhaps the nearest approach
to self-justification she209 ever made for having essayed, with a man's
independence, to live that most circumscribed life of a conspicuously beautiful
woman.
Losing her own mother when she was scarcely beyond her
infancy, and her step-mother before she had reached womanhood, and realizing
early that she was treated in all things as his equal in years and
understanding by the man whose superiority among his fellow-men she conceived
to be beyond question, that spirit of self-reliance that is the natural outcome
of all positive characters was intensified in her to an abnormal degree. While
it gave her the fundamental qualifications of that leadership which she
maintained with unparalleled brilliancy, it likewise, through lack of
direction, developed that imperious tendency that proved so fatal to her own
happiness.
She was the first child of Chase's marriage to his second
wife, Eliza Ann Smith, and was named by her mother after his first wife,
Katherine Garniss, for whom she had had a tender friendship and sincere admiration.
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Salmon Portland Chase with his daughters Janet Ralston "Nettie" and Kate (right). Photograph by Mathew Brady |
Of her birth, August, 13, 1840, her father's journal
contains the following record, a characteristic statement of the event from a
God-fearing man whose knowledge, not only of children, but of the human family
in general, was largely drawn from "judicious treatises."
"I went apart, and kneeling down prayed God to support
and comfort my dear wife, to preserve the life of the child, and save both from
sin. I endeavored to give up the child and all into His hands. After a while I
went into the room. The birth had taken place at 2 am on the 13th. After I had
seen my wife and child, I went into the library and read a few pages in Eber's
book on children, a judicious treatise. At last I became tired, and, though it
was now day, lay down and slept awhile. The babe is pronounced pretty. I think
it quite otherwise. It is, however, well formed, and I am thankful. May God
give the child a good understanding that she may know and keep his
commandments."
Of the early age at which Chase elected to test that understanding,
his journal also furnishes an evidence. An entry therein, under date of
November 24, 1845, about two months after her mother's death, shows the dawn of
that remarkable intellectual intercourse which he maintained with his daughter
till the end of his life. "This day," it reads, "has been marked
by no extraordinary event. Rose, as usual of late, before sunrise; breakfasted
with sister Alice and little Kate. Read Scriptures (Job) to little Kate, who
listened and seemed to be pleased, probably with the solemn rhythm, for she
certainly can understand very little; then prayed with her; then to town in
omnibus, unshaven for want of time."
Within that same year he also recorded in his journal that
he was teaching "dear little Kate to read verses in the Bible and
listening to her recite poems."
Thus early, without any particular system probably, but
wholly delightfully and under a most patient and winning master, begun the
training of one of the most astute and brilliant minds with which a woman was ever
gifted. She was keen and clever rather than profound, and her quick
intelligence caught and assimilated the fruit of her father's years of study.
Without having his absorbing love of books, she yet read
much and forgot nothing. Chase used to say that in the miscellaneous reading of
his boyhood, it was the pleasure he derived from a stray law-book that
determined his choice of career. He pursued his profession with the ardor of
real love, and his daughter imbibed from him a substantial knowledge of its
technicalities. He used to go over his cases with her very much at first in the
spirit in which he had read Job to her, later because he delighted in her
understanding, and finally because she had become genuinely helpful to him.
Well ordered and simple was the atmosphere of the home in
which she grew up. As was his custom from the time he established his own home
till the end of his life, Chase called his household together at the beginning
of every day to ask the blessing and protection of God. There were times, as
seen from his journal, when little Kate seems to have been his only companion,
yet the duty was never omitted.
She walked with him often to his office or to court in the
morning, both in Ohio and after they had removed to Washington, talking
sometimes of the things which interested her, but more frequently of those
which engrossed him, for it was his life and his ambitions that gave color to
both of their existences. He had taught her early his favorite games, chess and
backgammon, which she often played with him in the quiet evenings they spent
together, or, if it were out of doors, croquet or some simple childish game,
for she was part of the relaxation of his lighter hours as she was the
repository of all the confidences and hopes of his public career.
His third marriage, in 1846, to Sarah Ludlow identified him
with one of the prominent families of Cincinnati; Israel Ludlow, his wife's
grandfather, having been one of the founders of the city. Chase, himself,
though an Eastern man, born in Cornish, New Hampshire, whence he had migrated
on coming of age, was now one of the prominent figures of Cincinnati, a busy,
prosperous lawyer, with excellent political prospects, which met their first
realization when, in 1849, he was elected to the United States Senate.
When he came, six years later, into the governorship of his
State he was again a widower, and Kate, though less than 15 years of age, took
her place at the head of his home.
Accustomed since the dawn of memory to the most considerate
attentions from the most kingly of men, she already carried herself with that
noble grace that made her presence felt in every assemblage above that of all
others, no matter how simply she clothed herself nor how quietly she deported
herself.
Chase was the first of Ohio's governors to take up his
official residence at Columbus. There, for a year, Kate went as a day pupil to
Mr. Heyl's seminary, and later studied in the same institution music and
languages, having for the latter an unusual gift. She spoke French faultlessly,
especially after her long residence abroad, which came later in her life. Her
German, while it was fluent, had always a suggestion of a foreign accent that
in her seemed rather pleasing than otherwise. Her native tongue she wielded
with rare perfection, and no one who has heard Kate Chase talk will ever forget
the magic of her voice, the life her graphic and discriminating language
breathed into every thought to which she gave utterance, while her wonderful
eyes expressed, even betrayed, every emotion.
An old man who served the Chase family for years in the
capacity of coachman once paid a tribute to the delicacy and power of her
verbal delineations which many a man of more enlightened intelligence more
gracefully, perhaps, but not more aptly acknowledged. He said he knew no
greater pleasure than to take Miss Kate off in the carriage with a book in her
lap, and, without opening it, for her to tell him every word that it contained
from beginning to end.
The positive element of her character had already manifested
itself by the time she was 16 years old. She was, at about that period, out of
compliment to her father, elected to the secretaryship of a charitable
organization of women, all of whom were many years her senior. During the
course of one of the meetings, a physician, of whose services the body had
availed itself, and who had given offence to some of its members, was made the
object of an abuse as senseless as it was verbose.
The spirit of opposition was more timorous in the feminine organization
of that day than it is in those that have been the outgrowths of later years,
and Kate Chase, alone, had the courage to rise in defence of the absent doctor.
Appealing to the chair to silence the undignified outburst, she won on the spot
an ill-will that followed her long after those who cherished it had forgotten
its original cause. But her young life was full of a sweet homage, and such a
graceful tribute as was conveyed in the knowledge that one of the ex-governors
of the State had named the most beautiful rose in his famous garden after her,
easily atoned for the ill-will of a few people which seemed, after all, but a
ripple on the ever-broadening surface of her life.
The growing strength of the Republican party, which had been
ushered into existence in her father's law offices in Cincinnati, under the
inspiration of Dr. Gamaliel Baily, revealed possibilities to a man of Chase's
ambition and ability that haunted him thenceforth till the end of his life.
Kate knew intimately the strong men who formed the nucleus of that great party.
She knew its aims and purposes, and was in possession of its secret history
contained in her father's letters and journals and in her own memory of its
inception and progress. Yet nothing ever wrung them from her, though she was
frequently approached by magazine editors with offers that would have been a
temptation even to those in less need.
Her father's ambition became the absorbing object of her
life, developing in her, before she had reached her twentieth year, a
scientific knowledge of politics that no woman, and few men, have ever
surpassed. "I know your bright mind," once wrote Roscoe Conkling, in
submitting to her a political problem, "will solve this quicker than
mine." It has been said that many details of the campaign of 1884, against
Blaine, who was Conkling's political enemy, were planned at Edgewood.
To an intellect naturally endowed with many masculine
qualities, she added a woman's quicker wit and greater powers of divination and
an overmastering love for the father in whose interest she exercised every
faculty of her gifted mind.
When the first convention of the Republican party met at
Chicago, in 1860, to nominate a president, Chase was a prominent candidate for
that honor. His daughter accompanied him to Chicago, and thence for the first
time her name went forth over the land. His confidence in her, his reliance
upon her, treating her in all respects more as if she were a son than a
daughter, her youth, and the purely feminine quality of her beauty rendered her
unique and conspicuous.
The choice of the new party fell upon Abraham Lincoln, and
Seward, who supported him and opposed Chase's pretensions, received later the
recognition of his services when he was tendered the first place in Lincoln's
cabinet. Chase was, however, elected for the second time to the United States
Senate, where he took his seat March 4, 1861. Two days later he had resigned
and gone into Lincoln's cabinet as Secretary of the Treasury. His home was thus
transferred to Washington, where, going later on the Supreme Bench, he passed
the balance of his days, neither he nor his children ever returning to Ohio.
Chase was even laid to rest in Washington, and slept over thirteen years in
beautiful Oak Hill. In the fall of 1886, however, his daughter had him removed
to Ohio, that he might rest finally in the State that had been his home and
that was associated with his early fame.
Part II: The
Washington Years will conclude tomorrow on this blog.
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