Society as I Have Found It

Some of the distinguished guests of the Nation were M. Max Outrey, Ministre Plenipotentiare de la France aux Etats-Unis, M. le Marquis de Rochambeau, General Boulanger, le Comte de Beaumont, and le Comte de Corcelle, representing the Lafayettes, and Colonel A. von Steuben, representing the family of Major-General von Steuben.

FAMOUS NEWPORT BALLS.

CHAPTER XXV.

The next great event in the fashionable world was a Newport ball. A lady who had married a man of cultivation and taste, a member of one of New York’s oldest families, who had inherited from her father an enormous fortune, was at once seized with the ambition to take and hold a brilliant social position, to gratify which she built one of the handsomest houses in this city, importing interiors from Europe for it, and such old Spanish tapestries as had never before been introduced into New York; after which she went to Newport, and bought a beautiful villa on Bellevue Avenue, and there gave, in the grounds of that villa, the handsomest ball that had ever been given there. The villa itself was only used to receive and sup the guests in, for a huge tent, capable of holding fifteen hundred people, had been spread over the entire villa grounds, and in it was built a platform for dancing. The approaches to this tent were admirably designed, and produced a great effect. On entering the villa itself, you were received by the hostess, and then directed by liveried servants to the two improvised salons of the tent. The one you first entered was the Japanese room, adorned by every conceivable kind of old Japanese objects of art, couches, hangings of embroideries, cunning cane houses, all illuminated with Japanese lanterns, and the ceiling canopied with Japanese stuffs, producing, with its soft reddish light, a charming effect; then, behind tables scattered in different parts of the room, stood Japanese boys in costume, serving fragrant tea. Every possible couch, lounge, and easy-chair was there to invite you to sit and indulge yourself in ease and repose.

Leaving this ante-room, you entered still another salon, adorned with modern and Parisian furniture, but furnished with cunningly devised corners and nooks for “flirtation couples”; and from this you were ushered into the gorgeous ball-room itself,—an immense open tent, whose ceiling and sides were composed of broad stripes of white and scarlet bunting; then, for the first time at a ball in this country, the electric light was introduced, with brilliant effect. Two grottos of immense blocks of ice stood on either side of the ball-room, and a powerful jet of light was thrown through each of them, causing the ice to resemble the prisms of an illuminated cavern, and fairly to dazzle one with their coloring. Then as the blocks of ice would melt, they would tumble over each other in charming glacier-like confusion, giving you winter in the lap of summer; for every species of plant stood around this immense floor, as a flowering border, creeping quite up to these little improvised glaciers. The light was thrown and spread by these two powerful jets, sufficiently strong to give a brilliant illumination to the ball-room. The only criticism possible was, that it made deep shadows.

All Newport was present to give brilliancy to the scene. Everything was to be European, so one supped at small tables as at a ball in Paris, all through the night. Supper was ready at the opening of the ball, and also as complete and as well served at the finish, by daylight. Newport had never seen before, and has never since seen, anything as dazzling and brilliant, as well conceived, and as well carried out, in every detail.

Desirous of obtaining an office from the administration of President Arthur, I went to Washington with letters to the President and his Attorney-General. On my arrival, depositing my luggage in my room at Willard’s, I descended to the modest little barber-shop of that hotel, and there, in the hands of a colored barber, I saw our distinguished Secretary of State, the Hon. Frederick T. Frelinghuysen, who, on catching sight of me, exclaimed:

“Halloa, my friend! what brings you here?” He had for years been my lawyer in New Jersey.

I replied: “I want an office.”

“Well, what office?”

I told him what I wanted.

“I hope you do not expect me to get it for you!” he exclaimed.

“Not exactly,” I answered. “My man is the Attorney-General, and I want you to tell me where I can find him.”

“Find him! why, that’s easy enough; there is not another such man in Washington. Where do you dine?”

“Here in this house, at seven.”

“He dines here at the same hour. All you have to do is to look about you then, and when you see an old-fashioned, courtly gentleman of the Benjamin Franklin style, you will see Brewster,” said Mr. Frelinghuysen.

While quietly taking my soup, I saw an apparition! In walked a stately, handsome woman, by her side an old-fashioned, courtly gentleman, in a black velvet sack coat, ruffled shirt, and ruffled wristbands, accompanied by a small boy, evidently their son. “There he is,” I said to myself. Now, I make it a rule never to disturb any one until they have taken off the edge of their appetite. I stealthily viewed the man on whom my hopes hinged. Remarkable to look at he was. A thoroughly well-dressed man, with the unmistakable air of a gentleman and a man of culture. As he spoke he gesticulated, and even with his family, he seemingly kept up the liveliest of conversations. No sooner had he reached his coffee, than I reached him. In five minutes I was as much at home with him as if I had known him for five years.

“Well, my dear sir,” he said, “what made you go first to Frelinghuysen? Why did you not come at once to me? I know all about you; my friends are your friends. I know what you want. The office you wish, I will see that you get. Our good President will sanction what I do. The office is yours. Say no more about it.” From that hour this glorious old man and myself were sworn friends; I was here simply carrying out the axiom to keep one’s friendships in repair; and, as he had done so much for me, I resolved, in turn, to do all I could for him, and I know I made the evening of his life, at least, one of pleasurable and quiet enjoyment. He came to me that summer at Newport, and the life he there led among fashionable people seemed to be a new awakening to him of cultivated and refined enjoyment. He found himself among people there who appreciated his well-stored mind and his great learning. He was the brightest and best conversationalist I have ever met with. His memory was marvelous; every little incident of everyday life would bring forth some poetical illustrations from his mental storehouse.

At a large dinner I gave him, to which I had invited General Hancock and one of the Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States, the question of precedence presented itself. I sent in the Judge before the General, and being criticised for this, I appealed to the General himself. “In Washington,” he said, “I have been sent in to dinner on many occasions before our Supreme Court Judges, and again on other occasions they have preceded me. There is no fixed rule; but I am inclined to think I have precedence.”

During this summer, a young friend of mine was so charmed with the Attorney-General, that he advised with me about giving him an exceptionally handsome entertainment. This idea took shape the following winter, when he came and asked me to assist him in getting up for him a superb banquet at Delmonico’s. He wanted the brilliant people of society to be invited to it, and no pains or expense to be spared to make it the affair of the winter. I felt that our distinguished citizen, the ex-Secretary of State and ex-Governor, who had so long held political as well as social power, and his wife, should be asked to preside over it, and thus expressed myself to him, and was requested to ask them to do so. I presented myself to this most affable and courtly lady in her sunshiny drawing-room on Second Avenue, and proffered my request. She graciously accepted the invitation, saying she well knew the gentleman and his family as old New Yorkers; and to preside over a dinner given to her old friend, Mr. Brewster, would really give her the greatest pleasure.

Great care was taken in the selection of the guests. New York sent to this feast the brilliant men and women of that day, and the feast was worthy of them. The “I” table (shape of letter I) was literally a garden of superb roses; a border of heartsease, the width of one’s hand, encircled it, and was most artistic. Delmonico’s ball-room, where we dined, had never been so elaborately decorated. The mural decorations were superb; placques of lilies of the valley, of tulips, and of azaleas adorned the walls; and the dinner itself was pronounced the best effort of Delmonico’s chefs. What added much to the general effect was on leaving the table for a short half-hour to find the same dining-room, in that short space of time, converted into a brilliant ball-room, all full of the guests of the Patriarchs, and a ball under full headway.

AN ERA OF EXTRAVAGANCE.

CHAPTER XXVI.

We here reach a period when New York society turned over a new leaf. Up to this time, for one to be worth a million of dollars was to be rated as a man of fortune, but now, bygones must be bygones. New York’s ideas as to values, when fortune was named, leaped boldly up to ten millions, fifty millions, one hundred millions, and the necessities and luxuries followed suit. One was no longer content with a dinner of a dozen or more, to be served by a couple of servants. Fashion demanded that you be received in the hall of the house in which you were to dine, by from five to six servants, who, with the butler, were to serve the repast. The butler, on such occasions, to do alone the head-work, and under him he had these men in livery to serve the dinner, he to guide and direct them. Soft strains of music were introduced between the courses, and in some houses gold replaced silver in the way of plate, and everything that skill and art could suggest was added to make the dinners not a vulgar display, but a great gastronomic effort, evidencing the possession by the host of both money and taste.

The butler from getting a salary of $40 a month received then from $60 to $75 a month. The second man jumped up from $20 to $35 and $40, and the extra men, at the dinner of a dozen people or more, would cost $24. Then the orchids, being the most costly of all flowers, were introduced in profusion. The canvasback, that we could buy at $2.50 a pair, went up to $8 a pair; the terrapin were $4 apiece. Our forefathers would have been staggered at the cost of the hospitality of these days.

Lady Mandeville came over to us at this epoch, and at once a superb fancy ball was announced by one of our fashionable rich men. Every artist in the city was set to work to design novel costumes—to produce something in the way of a fancy dress that would make its wearer live ever after in history. Determining not to be outdone, I went to a fair dowager, who was up in all things; asked for and followed her advice. “Mapleson is your man. Put yourself in his hands,” said she; so off I went to him, and there I found myself, not only in his hands, but under the inspection of a fine pair of female eyes, who sat by his side and essayed to prompt him as to what my dress should be.

“Why, man alive!” said she, “don’t you see he is a Huguenot all over, an admirer of our sex. Put him in the guise of some woman’s lover.”

“By Jove, you are right, my fair songster!” said Mapleson. “I’ll make him the lover of Marguerite de Valois, who was guillotined at thirty-six because he loved ‘not wisely, but too well.’ Pray, what is your age?”

“Young enough, my dear sir, to suit your purpose. Go ahead, and make of me what you will,” I replied.

“Have you a good pair of legs?”

“Aye, that I have! But at times they are a little groggy. Covering they must have.”

“Ah, my boy, we will fix you. Buckskin will do your business. With tights of white chamois and silk hose, you can defy cold.” So into the business I went; and when my good friend the Attorney-General came into my room, and saw two sturdy fellows on either side of me holding up a pair of leather trunks, I on a step-ladder, one mass of powder, descending into them, an operation consuming an hour, he exclaimed, “Why, my good sir, your pride should be in your legs, not your head!”

“At present,” I said, “it certainly is.”

The six quadrilles were really the event of the ball, consisting of “The Hobby-horse Quadrille,” the men who danced in it being dressed in “pink,” and the ladies wearing red hunting-coats and white satin skirts, all of the period of Louis XIV. In the “Mother Goose Quadrille” were “Jack and Jill,” “Little Red Riding-Hood,” “Bo-Peep,” “Goody Two-Shoes,” “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary,” and “My Pretty Maid.” The “Opera Bouffe Quadrille” was most successful; but of all of them, “The Star Quadrille,” containing the youth and beauty of the city, was the most brilliant. The ladies in it were arrayed as twin stars, in four different colors, yellow, blue, mauve, and white. Above the forehead of each lady, in her hair, was worn an electric light, giving a fairy and elf-like appearance to each of them. “The Dresden Quadrille,” in which the ladies wore white satin, with powdered hair, and the gentlemen white satin knee breeches and powdered wigs, with the Dresden mark, crossed swords, on each of them, was effective. The hostess appeared as a Venetian Princess, with a superb jeweled peacock in her hair. The host was the Duke de Guise for that evening. The host’s eldest brother wore a costume of Louis XVI. His wife appeared as “The Electric Light,” in white satin, trimmed with diamonds, and her head one blaze of diamonds. The most remarkable costume, and one spoken of to this day, was that of a cat; the dress being of cats’ tails and white cats’ heads, and a bell with “Puss” on it in large letters. A distinguished beauty, dressed as a Phœnix, adorned with diamonds and rubies, was superb, and the Capuchin Monk, with hood and sandals, inimitable; but to name the most striking would be to name all.

The great social revolution that had occurred in New York this winter, like most revolutionary waves, reached Newport. Our distinguished New York journalist then made Newport his summer home, buying the fine granite house that for years had been first known as “The Middleton Mansion,” afterwards the “Sidney Brooks residence,” and filling it with distinguished Europeans. His activity and energy gave new life to the place.

One fine summer morning, one of his guests, an officer in the English army, a bright spirit and admirable horseman, riding on his polo pony up to the Newport Reading-room, where all the fossils of the place, the nobs, and the swells daily gossiped, he was challenged to ride the pony into the hall of this revered old club, and being bantered to do it, he actually did ride the pony across the narrow piazza, and into the hall of the club itself. This was enough to set Newport agog. What sacrilege! an Englishman to ride in upon us, not respecting the sanctity of the place! It aroused the old patriots, who were members of that Institution, with the spirit of ’76, and a summary note was sent to the great journalist, withdrawing the invitation the club had previously given his guest. The latter, in turn, felt aggrieved, and retaliated with this result: Building for Newport a superb Casino, embracing a club, a ball-room, and a restaurant, opposite his own residence. All this evidencing that agitation of any kind is as beneficial in social circles, as to the atmosphere we breathe.

Then our journalist conceived and gave a handsome domino ball. All the ladies in domino, much after the pattern of the one previously given by the Duchess de Dino, and in many respects resembling it, having a huge tent spread behind the house, and all the rooms on the first floor converted into a series of charming supper-rooms, each table decorated most elaborately with beautiful flowers; as handsome a ball as one could give. I took the wife of the Attorney-General to it in domino, who, after her life in Washington, was amazed at the beauty of the scene. The grounds, which were very handsome, were all, even the plants themselves, illuminated with electric lights—that is, streams of electric light were cunningly thrown under the plants, giving an illumination à giorno, and producing the most beautiful effect.

At this ball there appeared a Blue Domino that set all the men wild. Coming to the ball in her own carriage (her servants she felt she could trust not to betray her) she dashed into the merry throng, and gliding from one to the other whispered airy nothings into men’s ears. But they contained enough to excite the most intense curiosity as to who she was. She was the belle of the evening; she became bold and daring at times, attacking men of and about the inmost secrets of their hearts, so as to alarm them, and when she had worked them all up to a fever heat, she came to me to take her to the door that she might make good her escape. A dozen men barricaded the way, but with the rapidity of a deer she dashed through them, reached the sidewalk, and her footman literally threw her into the carriage. Her coachman, well drilled, dashed off at a furious rate, and to this day no one has ever found out who the fair creature was.

The next social event after this grand ball was a large breakfast the great journalist gave for the Duke of Beaufort, at Southwick’s Grove. We all sat at tables under the trees, and we had what the French so aptly term a déjeuner dinatoire. At it the Duke was most eloquent in his wonderful description of a fishing exploit he had had that morning; rising at 2 A.M., and driving to “Black Rock,” he groped his way to the farthest point, and had the satisfaction of hooking an enormous bass. In his own words, “As I saw him on the crest of the wave, I knew I had him, and then my sport began.”

Hearing that President Arthur would visit Newport, as I felt greatly in his debt I resolved to do my share in making his visit pleasant and agreeable. He was to be the guest of Governor Morgan, whom I at once buttonholed and to him gave the above views. I found, like all these great political magnates, that he preferred to have the President to himself, and rather threw cold water on my attempting anything in my humble way at entertaining him. “Why, my dear sir,” he replied, “the President will not go to one of your country picnics. It is preposterous to think of getting up such a rural thing for him. I shall, of course, dine him and give him a fête, and have already sent to New York for my Madeira.”

“Sent for your Madeira!” I exclaimed. “Why, my dear Governor, it will not be fit to drink when it reaches you.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because it will be so shaken up, it will be like tasting bad drugs. Madeira of any age, if once moved, cannot be tasted until it has had at least a month’s repose. President Arthur is a good judge of Madeira, and he would not drink your wine.”

“Well, what am I to do?” said he.

“Why, my dear Governor, I will myself carry to your house for him a couple of bottles of my very best Madeira.” This I did, sitting in the middle of the carriage, one bottle in each hand (it having been first carefully decanted), and into the Governor’s parlor I was ushered, and then placed my offering before the President, telling him that I well knew he loved women, as well as song and wine; prayed him to honor me with his presence at a Newport picnic, promising to cull a bouquet of such exotics as are only grown in a Newport hothouse. The invitation he at once accepted, much, I thought, to the chagrin of the Governor, who, accompanying me to his front door, said:

“My dear sir, one must remember that he is the President of the United States, ruling over sixty millions of people. He is here as my guest, and now to go off and dine on Sunday with a leader of fashion, and then to follow this up by attending one of your open-air lunches, seems to me not right.” (I must here say in his defense, that the Governor had never been to one of my “open-air lunches,” and knew not of what he spoke.)

I then resolved to make this picnic worthy of our great ruler, and at once invited to it a beautiful woman, one who might have been selected for a Madonna. This is the first time I have made mention of her; she possessed that richness of nature you only see in Southern climes; one of the most beautiful women in America. She promised to go to this country party, and bring her court with her.

I selected the loveliest spot on Newport Island, known as “The Balch Place,” near “The Paradise and Purgatory Rocks,” for this fête. The Atlantic Ocean, calm and unruffled, lay before us; all the noise it made was the gentle ripple of the waves as they kissed the rocky shore. Giving the President our great beauty, he led the way to the collation, partaken of at little tables under the sparse trees that the rough winter barely permitted to live, and then we had a merry dance on the green, on an excellent platform fringed with plants.

At a subsequent breakfast, I was intensely gratified to have the President say to me, before the whole company, “McAllister, you did indeed redeem your promise. The beauty of the women at your picnic, the beauty of the place, and its admirable arrangement—made it the pleasantest party I have had at Newport,”—and this was said before my friend the Governor. Grand, elaborate entertainments are ofttimes not as enjoyable as country frolics.

WASHINGTON DINNERS AND NEW YORK BALLS.

CHAPTER XXVII.

The following winter my friend Attorney-General Brewster invited me to Washington to pass a fortnight with him, and I then got a glimpse of modern life in that city. I enjoyed my visit, but found the people slower of action than we are in New York; for instance, it took my kind host fully a week to consider over and map out a dinner for me. Then, just as I was leaving, the President asked me to dine with him. I was informed that it was imperative that I should cancel other engagements and remain over to accept his invitation.

The arrangement of the guests at this dinner was to me amusing. Reaching the White House, I was separated from the ladies I brought, and could not in any way find them again to enter the drawing-room with them, but was ushered into it from a side door, and there joined the gentlemen, who stood in line on one side of the room, while from an opposite door the ladies entered the same room, and formed in line, as it were, opposite the men. When all were assembled, the President himself entered, bowed to his guests, and offered his arm to one of the ladies, and led the way in to dinner.

The view from the dining-room into the conservatories, displaying the finest collection of white azaleas I have ever seen, was most effective. The dinner was good, and well served; the President most gracious. Turning to me, he said, “Why, your friend Winthrop is not himself to-day. What is the matter with him?” I replied, “My dear Mr. President, he has been up to the Capitol, and seen his ancestor in white marble, and found his nose was shockingly dirty. This annoyed and mortified him.” The President replied, “Really, well, this is too bad! This matter shall at once have my attention. That nose shall be wiped to-morrow!”

The winters of 1884 and 1885 will long be remembered by New York society people, for three of the largest, handsomest, and most successful balls ever given in this city have made them memorable. The heir to probably the largest fortune ever left to one man in this country, then threw open the doors of his palatial residence and generously invited all who were in any way entitled to an invitation, to come and view his superb house, and join in the dance which was to inaugurate its completion.

As I went up the beautiful stairs and passed along the gallery, looking down on a hall such as few palaces contain, with a long train of handsomely dressed women passing me on their way down to the reception room, it put me in mind of a scene I well remembered at the Hôtel de Ville, in Paris, at a ball given by the Emperor Napoleon III. to the King of Sardinia. It looked royal, and was most impressive. Our host stood in the centre of his hall, giving to all a warm welcome. Passing him we entered his grand salon, where his wife received us. The room itself, Oriental, and as Eastern and luxurious in its own peculiar style as one could create it. From this salon, we entered a novel Japanese room, and then the fine dining-room of the house, with its marvelous ceiling, painted by one of the best modern French artists. The picture galleries were the ball and supper rooms. The cotillion was danced in the farthest of the two galleries, the ladies seated in double and triple lines on improvised seats, as if they were sitting on a long extended dais all around the room. The effect was dazzling and brilliant. All supped well, for when supper was announced little tables were placed like magic through the rooms; and New Yorkers had what they well knew how to appreciate—an elaborate, well-served repast; champagne in abundance, and of the best, and in perfect condition. In my opinion, it was one of the handsomest, most profuse, liberal, and brilliant balls ever given in this country.

The next great flutter in New York’s fashionable world was the announcement of a grand entertainment to be given, embracing all the features of a London ball, which, though a novelty here, had for years been done in London; that was to build an addition to one’s house, to be used but for one night, and to be made large enough to comfortably hold, with the house, one thousand or twelve hundred people. There was plenty of energy and talent to carry this out, and reproduce here what Londoners have always been so proud of—their ability to double the capacity of their city houses by utilizing their yards, covering them with a temporary structure, to be used as a supper or ball room. A young man of an old Long Island family had married a beautiful girl, a young woman such as Walter Scott would have taken to impersonate his character of Amy Robsart, who, besides this natural and naïve style of beauty, possessed great administrative ability, and withal much taste, a great amount of energy, and a fortune large enough to carry through any enterprise she conceived. Both of them were devoted to society, and to each other. Passing their summers abroad, and seeing what vast conceptions society there undertook, and successfully carried out, they resolved to repeat here what they had seen on the other side of the water. In Marcotte they had a great ally, a man of wonderful taste and ability; planning out the work themselves, with his skillful hand to execute it, they certainly built up in a night, as it were, a superb banqueting hall, complete and elaborately finished as if a part of the house itself; a solid structure, with no appearance of its being temporary or run up for the occasion. Throwing two houses into one, and descending from them into this vast banqueting hall by a wide flight of stairs, you had, to all appearances, a grand palatial residence, whose rooms the largest crowd could roam through with freedom and perfect comfort. The houses themselves were so handsomely decorated in the period of Louis XIV., that it required cultivated taste to add floral decorations to such rooms; but it was done, and admirably done, and was a remarkable feature of this superb ball. Garlands of the delicate La France roses were festooned on the walls, and over and around the doors and windows, producing a charming effect. There were two cotillions danced in separate rooms. The approach from the street to the houses was admirable; the pavement was inclosed the entire length of both, carpeted, and brilliantly lighted with innumerable jets of gas—a ball long to be remembered!

What then was there left for one to do in the way of entertaining to give society anything new and novel? This duty was then imposed on me. These pages bear evidence that I am blessed with memory, but imagination was then what I required to conceive and carry out some new enterprise in the way of a subscription New Year’s ball, to surpass anything I had ever before given.

The most difficult rooms to decorate are those at Delmonico’s; but this establishment is unequaled in London or Paris in that it gives under its roof incomparable balls, banquets, and dinners. So we resolved that talent, taste, and money should be expended in an effort to design and give there a superb ball. The house had the advantage of having a large square room, all that was required for a dance of three to four hundred people. On this occasion we were to have seven hundred, and for so large a number we had to provide two salles de danse. The upper supper room we turned into a conservatory. Its ceilings were low, but covering them with creeping plants, making around the entire room a dado of banks of flowers and the walls themselves decorated with plaques of roses, introducing the electric light and throwing its jets through all the foliage, we had an improvised bower of flowers and plants that tempted all to wander through, if not to linger in it in admiration of the artistic skill which produced such a result. One room we converted, with Vantine’s assistance, into a perfect Japanese interior. Once in it, we felt transported to that country. Here were served tea and Japanese confections, and over all shone the electric light with charming effect. The salon known as the Red Room had its walls decorated with sheaves of wheat, in which nestled bunches of Marechale Neil roses, the background of scarlet bringing these decorations out strikingly. This, with a new floor, was converted into a salle de danse. The large hall into which all these rooms opened was superb, for on all sides of it, from floor to ceiling, were hung the finest Gobelin tapestries of fabulous value. To obtain their use we had to telegraph to Paris, and were required to insure them for a large sum. Servants in light plush livery, pumps, and silk stockings, with powdered hair, stood on either side to direct the guests. Having the whole house, we supped in both restaurant and café, and as we had given an unlimited order had an elaborate and exquisite supper.

For a small ball of seven hundred people, I have always felt, and still feel, that this New Year’s Ball, as given at Delmonico’s, was in every sense of the word the handsomest, most complete, and most successful thing of the kind that I have ever attempted in New York City, and I find I am not alone in this opinion. It was as much a feast for the eye as the elaborate supper was for the palate, being complete in every detail, luxurious in adornment, as to its rooms—and epicurean in its feasting.

New York society had now become so large that it seemed necessary to solve at once what, to us, has long been a problem, i.e. where we could bring general society together in one large dancing-room; for though you may have a dozen rooms thrown open, you will always find that all rush to the room where there is dancing. Where then could we get a room where all could at one and the same time be on the floor? It occurred to me that the Metropolitan Opera House had, in its stage and auditorium, such a room, and if we could only divest it of its characteristics, it would be what we wanted.

Satisfying ourselves that we could accomplish this, we formed a Committee of Three and entered on this new enterprise. Artists, who have with ability painted small pictures, may venture on larger canvas. We had succeeded in giving balls of seven hundred and four hundred people. Why not have a similar success on a larger scale? Had our ideas been properly carried out, this ball would have been twice the success it was. The defects were evident, but when seen it was too late to remedy them. The artificial ceiling, cleverly planned to shut out the galleries, was not completed, the electric lights were not shaded as they should have been, and the music stands, ordered by the authorities to be elevated, were unsightly, and marred the brilliant effect we had studied to produce. All else received more praise than criticism.

The four most striking points of this ball were, first, the reception of over twelve hundred people as at a private house by three of our most brilliant and accomplished society ladies; again, what may be termed the Quadrille d’Honneur of that ball, which was the different sets of the Sir Roger de Coverly, danced by the most distinguished ladies of this city, the “nobs” and the “swells” on this occasion uniting; the supping of over twelve hundred people at one time at small tables, and the cotillion ably led by one of our distinguished State Senators, a man in himself representing family, wealth, and political position.

The Sir Roger de Coverly was danced in the auditorium and on the stage, and before its completion a blast from the cornet à piston was sounded by direction of the Management, when at once the three members of the Executive Committee sought the three lady patronesses who had so graciously received for them the guests of this large ball, and had the honor of taking them in to supper. A special table in the centre of the supper room, elaborately decorated with flowers, was arranged for them, and the handsome and courteous gentleman who so royally dispenses hospitality both at his house in town and at his ocean villa in Newport (the handsomest country residence in the United States), at once sought one of America’s loveliest, most beautiful, and most graceful daughters, a charming representative of an old Colonial family, and doubly a New Yorker, representing the historic families of Livingston and Ludlow. Another member of the Committee, a descendant of one of our oldest families, whose ancestor was a distinguished General in the Revolution, had the fortune to have on his arm a most superbly dressed woman, whose tiara of diamonds could well have graced a Queen’s brow—whose beauty I have before alluded to when comparing her to Amy Robsart. I had the honor of leading the way with our leader of society, whom Worth had adorned with a robe of such magnificence that it attracted and held the attention of the whole assembly. Her jewels were resplendent—in themselves a King’s ransom; and placing her on my right, at the supper table, I had on my left the beautiful woman who had won the hearts of the American nation.

Before leaving this ball, I must mete out due praise to the man who could so successfully care for so large a number of people at supper at one time, and give credit to the good and effective work done by the three hundred well-trained, liveried servants scattered through the house, understanding their work and performing it admirably. This ball was given as a New Year’s Ball on the 2d of January, 1890.

And now, in concluding this book, I beg to say that I have simply discussed society as I have found it, and only such entertainments of which I have been part and parcel.

THE PRESENT FASHION IN STATIONERY.