during the occupation of the City of Mexico by the American officers
who had stormed the capital; and on the occasion of one of its annual
meetings, which that year was held in Philadelphia, I was permitted to
accompany him to that city. It was the longest journey from home I had
ever taken, and each incident of it is still clearly fixed in my mind.
The event of the reunion was a dinner given at the house of General
Patterson, and on the morning before the dinner the members of the
club were invited to assemble in the garden which surrounded his
house. To this meeting my grandfather conducted me, and I found myself
surrounded by the very men of whom he had so often spoken. I was very
frightened, and I confess I was surprised and greatly disappointed
also to find that they were old and gray-haired men, and not the young
and dashing warriors he had described. General Patterson alone did not
disappoint me, for even at that late day he wore a blue coat with
brass buttons and a buff waistcoat and high black stock. He had a
strong, fine profile and was smooth shaven. I remember I found him
exactly my ideal of the Duke of Wellington; for though I was only then
ten or twelve years of age, I had my own ideas about every soldier
from Alexander and Von Moltke to our own Captain Custer.

It was in the garden behind the Patterson house that we met the
General, and he alarmed me very much by pulling my shoulders back and
asking me my age, and whether or not I expected to be as brave a
soldier as my grandfather, to which latter question I said, "Yes,
General," and then could have cried with mortification, for all of the
great soldiers laughed at me. One of them turned, and said to the only
one who was seated, "That is Hamilton's grandson." The man who was
seated did not impress me very much. He was younger than the others.
He wore a black suit and a black tie, and the three upper buttons of
his waistcoat were unfastened. His beard was close-cropped, like a