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N the quiet grass-grown town of Alexandria, situated upon the lower bank of the Potomac in Virginia, might have been perceived, just before the outbreak of the war between the States, a faint flavor of early colonial days lingering like the scent of roseleaves in an old-time China jar.

To begin with the streets-what a Tory smack in their names! King, Prince, Duke, Royal, Queen, Princess, Duchess; odd enough in the neighborhood of Mount Vernon, nay, under the very shadow, as it were, of the great dome of the National Capitol! At the time referred to, the greater part of a century's enjoyment of the blessings of political enfranchisement had not deprived some Alexandrians of a certain relish for the affairs of the English Court. They liked to read the "Illustrated London News," and to obtain correct information about the Queen's walks with the youthful Royalties, and the Queen's drives attended by Ladies X, Y, and Z. Had they not been fed upon the traditions of an English ancestry, as upon the toothsome hams, the appetizing roe-herrings, of their famous market-place? The great Georgian era of tea-drinking and tambour, of spangles and snuffboxes, of high play and hair-powder, represented to them the Golden Age in the fortunes of their families, of which every vestige must be guarded jealously. As children they had stood on tiptoe to study the lineaments of great-grandaunt Betty, hanging in her fly-specked frame somewhere near the ceiling, and had been eager to hear how she had been toasted at Mayfair

Copyright, 1887, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.

supper-tables or had danced the gavotte at a Ranelagh ball. Yonder beetle-browed warrior in a voluminous wig was a general in Queen Anne's time, before he condescended to his present station above the sideboard. The beautiful youth in armor, slender and graceful, with the fiery eyes, fought for King Charles against the Roundheads, never dreaming that he would come across the seas to find his niche in a staid Virginia sitting-room! In this wainscoted parlor, where the light comes through small greenish panes of glass half veiled with ivy branching from stems knit in a fibrous mass upon the outer wall, had greatgrandmamma, dressed in her satin paduasoy ("you may see a piece of it upon your Aunt Prunella's pincushion, my dear!" the chronicler would add), her hose with silver clocks, stood to receive General Braddock, on the occasion of his first visit to the town. On the landing of yonder stairway little greataunt Nancy, the shy member of the family,

while taking flight to avoid a sudden arrival of guests, had come into violent collision with Colonel Aaron Burr, who met her apologies with a smile and a bow treasured in the stronghold of her maiden heart through many a year to come.

In these echoing rooms had, from time to time, gathered all the celebrities of the day, coming to visit the haunts of Washington and to taste Virginia courtesy. And here, at a much later date, upon the occasion of his second visit to America, in 1824, was domiciled the gallant Lafayette. The tale of a famous reception tendered to that fortunate Frenchman is still told in the town. Escorted by citizens and militiamen, freemasons and revolutionary survivors, the "Nation's Guest" passed over streets strewn with roses by the children of the place, beneath a triumphal arch the like of which in grandeur had never been seen. At the moment when the hero paused beneath the arch, a "real" eagle (politely fur

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nished for the occasion by the proprietor of a museum) was seen to flap its wings, and heard to utter a scream of victory. This climax, it was afterwards ascertained, was secured by a boy who, at the critical moment, stuck a pin in the bird of liberty. Bands played, flags and handkerchiefs were waved, salutes were fired. In the evening a banquet was held at Clagett's Tavern, followed by a levee. The market-place and many private houses were illuminated. Nothing was heard but honor to Lafayette. The wave of popular enthusiasm, overflowing to the rural districts of the interior, left inscribed upon more than one baptismal register the name and title of "Marquis de Lafayette," bestowed in a blaze of patriotic fervor, and in all inno

cence, upon the latest arrival in the family! At this day "Marcus D. Lafayette" remains guilelessly prefixed to not a few Virginia patronymics.

Then it was that Lafayette, before passing southward upon his pious pilgrimage to the tomb of his illustrious brother in arms at Mount Vernon, offered the toast: "The city of Alexandria! May her prosperity and happiness more and more realize the fondest wishes of our venerated Washington."

Even so early in the century the good old town seems to have been overtaken by the spirit of drowsiness from which the march of national progress has not yet aroused her. Long years ago, before the coquetry of fortune began to push poor Alexandria to her place

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