# A Tribute to W. W. Corcoran, of Washington City/Chapter 2

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Chapter II.
NE of the noblest tributes ever paid to woman was the thought that actuated Mr. Corcoran to erect the "Louise Home." His heart, ever filled with the memories of his precious dead, throbbed in sympathy with the bereaved ones of their sex, whose impoverishment and sorrow he bade them forget in the genuine welcome of a friend and almoner. The ladies admitted to this dwelling are educated and accomplished, having basked in the bright sunshine of comfortable means until the dark day came, and the cloud of misfortune burst ruthlessly upon them.
It entered into the religion of Mr. Corcoran to remember the widow as well as the orphan, and a digression in the mention of the latter is admissibly in that the name of Louise Eustis must ever be cherished by many bereaved children. She was like her father in "good deeds;" so say those faithful women wearing the garb of Sisters of Charity and noble ladies of other denominations. At the St. Vincent's Asylum of this city hangs her portrait, and it invokes the tribute of a tear as the little faces gaze up at its sweetness and beauty.
THE LOUISE HOME.
The ladies established at this retreat have opportunities of entertainment and diversion, now and then tendered by the host, besides other friends and sources, proving that there is in our midst a never failing liberality that leans to the bereaved. Just here might be mentioned Mrs. Benjamin Ogle Tayloe, whose kind deeds are well known, and whose house has always sustained the reputation of lavish hospitality. This lady has recently presented two chairs to the institution, the very attractive work of the Shakers at Lebanon. A well selected library is also furnished for the inmates, and there are some interesting pictures to adorn the walls, the thoughtful host believing not only in the recreation of the mind, but in the exercise and gratification of the eye. Each lady resident has received a handsome Bible as a gift from Mr. Corcoran, and this is a proof that not only has their material comfort been considered, but also their spiritual welfare.
The edifice itself is one of the most beautiful in Washington. The interior is charming in all of its details, being bright and cheerful, besides showing an air of substantiality. There are five stories, the central portion of the building forming a wide open ​space, with encircling galleries to each tier, upon which the bed rooms open. Every convenience has been provided, bath rooms, elevators, &c. The supporters are bronzed iron columns, and the woodwork is of black walnut. The rooms are all models of neatness, and display in the little ornaments here and there, the refined taste of gentlewomen. The regulations are very precise, and can compare favorably with any government institution, where "order is the first law." The matron, Miss Lucy Hunter, is admirably chosen for her responsible position. Her sweet, expressive face, like the Evangeline of Longfellow, is certainly an acquisition to the Home, whilst her charm of manner is ever present, winning praise from friends and strangers. The dining saloon is on the ground floor, and all of its appointments correspond with the elegance above. We happened once to see a meal spread out, where was abundance and a choice serving.
Besides the reception rooms and ante-chambers, there are fine grounds outside, the green-sward inviting to a promenade for the aged inmates who do not care to seek exercise in the public thoroughfares. Altogether a spirit of comfort and ease pervades the place, and to those who are so happily installed, we do not doubt that the evening of their life will be lit up with an almost hallowed remembrance of the "good deed" by which they were shielded and provided for; and like Judith, who faithful "to the end, walked with the angels in her widow's weeds," they will patiently await the summons to that "Home," not made with hands, "eternal in the heavens." The gratitude of these ladies is frequently shown by some delicate little attention to Mr. Corcoran, viz.: the gift of a beautiful flower, a note of exquisite pathos, &c., which to his appreciative and sensitive nature, are worth more than ​gold or rubies; for his life is made rich "with that content the world takes not away." During a severe illness of Mr. Corcoran, some gentle hand that had nurtured at the "Home" a lily, pure and spotless as the snow, and therefore the more emblematic of his goodness, sent the flower to him, trusting that its poetic language might convey the many kindly wishes for his restoration to health. How appropriate such gifts to him who hath caused so many flower to spring up in their pathway!
We are permitted to quote the following beautiful letter from the pen of the distinguished Bishop of Alabama.
New York, September 15, 1873
W. W. Corcoran,
My Dear Friend:—I went up to Washington a few days ago, for the express purpose of seeing the "Louise Home." I saw a great many public buildings of the city, and many of the works of Art with which the Metropolis abounds; but I saw nothing upon which the stamp of immortality was set save the "Louise Home." God belss you!—and He will bless you—for this labor of love. And when I looked upon the beautiful face of her whose memory must have inspired you, and whose name is given to "The Home," I could not wonder that it was woman whom you wished to bless with your beneficence. When I gazed upon that beautiful face—and I can never forget it—I could well understand that the heart in which such a woman was enshrined, could never find place for another love. How beautiful are they who are prepared for an early Heaven!
But one thing I missed—Will you pardon me for the seeming presumption?—"the oratory"—the ​consecrated "House of Prayer." You would not give a denominational character to the Home. That is not necessary. No one is compelled to attend it. Each one is left free to individual choice. But what exception can be justly taken to a real chapel of the church, when all are privileged, but none are required to go to worship? This seemed the only thing lacking, and so beautiful and true a thing should lack nothing.
I feel that, if you agree not with me, you will pardon me for the suggestion. I start in a few days for Mobile. I carry with me no reminiscence so sweet as that of your "Louise Home." Heaven itself must be sweeter to you for being the founder of the "Louise Home."
Most truely,
RICHARD H. WILMER.
The control of the "Louise Home" is vested in a board of nine directresses, appointed by Mr. Corcoran, and the following well known names are a sufficient guarantee of their faithful stewardship—Mrs. Benjamin Ogle Tayloe, President; Mrs. James M. Carlisle, Mrs. George W. Riggs (since deceased), Mrs. Richard H. Coolidge, Miss Sarah Coleman, Mrs. Richard T. Merrick, Mrs. John Marbury, Sen.; Mrs. Beverly Kennon, and Mrs. S. P. Hill. The Trustees are Messrs. Carlisle, Riggs, Hall and Hyde. Doctors Busey and Drinkard, have very generously offered their gratuitous services to the institution.
Mr. Corcoran has been the recipient of hundreds of written testimonials of gratitude for the good he has done in various ways, and not only has woman sent the warmest expressions of affection, but there have been acknowledgments from some of the greatest and wisest of men—men who in our national councils stood ​first in the array of talent and worth. Also the lamented George Peabody, his personal friend and admirer, admitted that in Mr. Corcoran he had found a strong competitor in acts of benevolence. Our country has every right to be proud of two such benefactors, embodying the noblest sentiments and virtues, and who scattered whilst living the fruits of their labors―waiting not for the "convenient season," nor for the time when earth, vanishing from the mortal gaze, makes the riches of a lifetime as dross or chaff, useless and valueless, at least to the possessor. Colton says:―"Posthumous charities are the very essence of selfishness, when bequeathed by those who, when alive, would part with nothing." The true charity is that which waiting not to be weighed, falls like the dew in famishing places, and is not inflated with pride and vanity. There was no truer and fonder tribute paid to Peabody's bier, than when England's poor wept with bitterness. It was far above the honors paid by sovereigns and the nobility, and the requiem of the Atlantic waves, as the convoy bore him sadly back to his native soil!
There is one little sentence of vast meaning contained in the Book of Common Prayer, which strikes upon millions of ears every Sabbath, and yet we venture to assert is but little heeded―"Behold, Lord! the half of my goods I give to the poor." How easily counted are the followers after this, because of the rarity, and how much then does the world owe to the men who have not overlooked it. Apart from the philanthropy that vaunteth itself, craving worldly applause, and independent of the costly edifices, the piled up gold and bonds, are the small charities which have no record, save in the hearts of humble, recipients and in the notice of God. The great ocean, as it sweeps on in its proud defiant course, is so overwhelming a ​thought in the mind, that the tranquil rivulet, gliding gently on with naught of force or impetus, becomes an insignificant comparison; and yet the influence of one on the other cannot be entirely lost sight of. All the grandeur of the former cannot take away the remembrance of the sparkling stream that slaked our thirst on a weary journey; and so to the poverty-stricken, who have been refreshed in the toiling strife of life, the smallest gifts have been mercies not less dignified, not less valued than the wealth that built the Vatican, or the Escurial. This quiet, unostentatious charity has also belonged to Mr. Corcoran, and after the mighty and limitless sea of his generous impulse, gentle little streams of kindness have flowed here and there to relieve the necessities of the obscure and needy.
About a year ago, a paper of this city recorded the following: "Praying for her benefactor." "There are several poor persons who have been in the habit of calling daily at the office of Mr. W. W. Corcoran, and receiving from him small sums to relieve their necessities. A few days since a feeble old woman entered the office to receive her contribution, but upon learning that Mr. Corcoran was dangerously ill, she showed much feeling, and upon going out fell upon her knees at the street corner by the bank, and prayed fervently for the recovery of her benefactor."
So might we continue to enumerate benefactions, one after another, the list assuming enormous length. But there is one gift not to be named for its value, but rather for the beautiful thought or idea connected with Mr. Corcoran’s love and veneration of the "Father of his Country." Whilst it is the duty and cherished privilege of the Mount Vernon Association to keep in repairs the home of Washington, and beautify the estate, still it occurred to Mr. Corcoran to make a most ​expressive and emblematical adornment. The slopes of the Potomac where Mount Vernon lies, are planted with evergreens, purchased in Europe. Stone and granite may tell the story of departed worth and excellence, but their crumbling pieces will not convey so eloquently the sad truth of what Death has robbed us, as those waving evergreens, singing a dirge with the fitful breeze.