Society as I Have Found It
for this, I was told, was that they killed their cattle younger than we
killed ours, and did not work those intended for beef. On Madeira, I
stated, “we had them,” for, I said, “You have none to liken unto ours”;
though later on, at another dinner, when I made this assertion, the
Duke of Beaufort took me up on this point, and insisted upon it that in
many of the old country houses in England they had excellent Madeira.
The following anonymous lines on this dinner were sent to me the day
afterwards:
There ne’er was seen so fair a sight
As at Delmonico’s last night;
When feathers, flowers, gems, and lace
Adorned each lovely form and face;
A garden of all thorns bereft,
The outside world behind them left.
They sat in order, as if “Burke”
Had sent a message by his clerk.
And by whose magic wand is this
All conjured up? the height of bliss.
’Tis he who now before you looms,--
The Autocrat of Drawing Rooms.
One of the events of this winter was a grand domino ball, the largest
ever given here. Our Civil War was then raging; a distinguished nobleman
appeared at that ball with his friend, a member of Parliament. Before he
could enter the ball-room, a domino stepped up to him and had an
encounter of words with him. “Are you as brave as you look?” she asked;
“will you do a woman’s bidding? I challenge you to grant me my request!”
“What is it?” he asked. “Allow me to pin on this badge?” “Certainly,”
was the gallant reply. As he passed through the rooms, it was seen that
he was wearing a Secession badge. It was thought to be an intended
affront to Northern people, and was immediately resented. His friend,
the member of Parliament, hearing of it, at once went up to him and
removed the badge. Many felt that this distinguished man was simply the
victim of a cruel, mischievous, and silly woman.
The following summer, as I had been so hospitably entertained in Nassau,
at Government House, I invited my old friend, the Governor of the
Bahamas, to pay me a visit at Newport. On a beautiful summer afternoon,
I drove up to the Brevoort House, and there I found him literally
surrounded by all his worldly goods, his entire household, with all
their effects. It took two immense stages and a huge baggage wagon to
convey them to the Fall River boat. Imagine this party coming from an
island where it was a daily struggle to procure food, viewing the
sumptuous supper-tables of these magnificent steamers (which certainly
made a great impression on them, for it caused them to be loud in their
expressions of astonishment and admiration). Reaching Newport at 2 A.M.,
on attempting to go ashore, I found His Excellency had lost all his
tickets. Our sharp Yankee captain took no stock in people who did such
things; so out came the Englishman’s pocket-book to pay again for the
entire party, the dear old gentleman declaring it was his fault, and he
ought to be made to pay for such carelessness. It did not take me long
to convince our captain that we were not sharpers; that we had paid our
passages, and we must needs be allowed to go ashore.
I was determined to evidence to my guests that they had reached the land
of plenty, and before they had been with me a week, the Governor
declared, with a sigh, “That he detested the sight of food.” I put him
through a course of vapor baths, and galloped him daily. On one
occasion, we visited the beach together, when the surf was full of
people. We saw an enormously tall, Rubens-like woman, clad in a clinging
garment of calico, exhilarated by the bath, jumping up and down, and in
her ecstasy throwing her arms up over her head. “Who is the creature?”
he exclaimed. “Is this allowed here! Why, man, you should not tolerate
it a moment!” I gave one look at the female, and then, convulsed with
laughter, seized his arm, exclaiming, “It is your wife’s English maid!”
If I had given him an electric shock, he could not have sprung out of
the wagon quicker. Rushing to the water’s edge, he shouted, “Down with
you! down with you, this instant, you crazy jade! how dare you disgrace
me in this way!” The poor girl, one could see, felt innocent of all
wrong, but quitted the water at lightning speed when she saw the crowd
the Governor had drawn around him.
The first Cotillion Dinner ever given at Newport, I gave at my Bayside
Farm. I chose a night when the moon would be at the full, and invited
guests enough to make up a cotillion. We dined in the open air at 6
P.M., in the garden adjoining the farm-house, having the gable end of
the house to protect us from the southerly sea breeze. In this way we
avoided flies, the pest of Newport. In the house itself we could not
have kept them from the table, while in the open air even a gentle
breeze, hardly perceptible, rids you of them entirely. The farm-house
kitchen was then near at hand for use. You sat on closely cut turf, and
with the little garden filled with beautiful standing plants, the
eastern side of the farm-house covered with vines, laden with pumpkins,
melons, and cucumbers, all giving a mixture of bright color against a
green background, with the whole farm lying before you, and beyond it
the bay and the distant ocean, dotted over with sailing craft, the sun,
sinking behind the Narragansett hills, bathing the Newport shore in
golden light, giving you, as John Van Buren then said to me, “As much of
the sea as you ever get from the deck of a yacht.” Add to this, the
exquisite toilets which our women wear on such occasions, a table laden
with every delicacy, and all in the merriest of moods, and you have a
picture of enjoyment that no shut-in ball-room could present. No
“pent-up Utica” then confined our powers. Men and women enjoyed a
freedom that their rural surroundings permitted, and, like the lambs
gambolling in the fields next them, they frisked about, and thus did
away with much of the stiff conventionality pertaining to a city
entertainment.
On this little farm I had a cellar for claret and a farm-house attic for
Madeira, where the cold Rhode Island winters have done much to preserve
for me wines of seventy and eighty years of age. On this occasion, I
remember giving them Amory of 1811 (one of the greatest of Boston
Madeiras), and I saw the men hold it up to the light to see its
beautiful amber color, inhale its bouquet, and quaff it down “with
tender eyes bent on them.”
A marked feature of all my farm dinners was _Dindonneaux à la Toulouse_,
and _à la Bordelaise_ (chicken turkeys). In past days, turkeys were
thought to be only fine on and after Thanksgiving Day in November, but I
learnt from the French that the turkey _poult_ with _quenelle de
volaille_, with either a white or dark sauce, was the way to enjoy the
Rhode Island turkey. I think they were first served in this way on my
farm in Newport. Now they are thus cooked and accepted by all as the
summer delicacy.
After dinner we strolled off in couples to the shore (a beach
three-quarters of a mile in length), or sat under the group of trees
looking on the beautiful bay.
My brother, Colonel McAllister, had exercised his engineering skill in
fitting up my barn with every kind and sort of light. He improvised a
chandelier for the center of it, adorned the horse and cattle stalls
with vines and greens, fitted them up with seats for my guests (all
nicely graveled), and put a band of music in the hay-loft, with the
middle part of the barn floored over for dancing. We had a scene that
Teniers has so often painted. We danced away late into the night, then
had a glorious moonlight to drive home by.
I must not omit to mention one feature of these parties. It was the
“Yacht Club rum punch,” made from old Plantation rum, placed in huge
bowls, with an immense block of ice in each bowl, the melting ice being
the only liquid added to the rum, except occasionally when I would pour
a bottle of champagne in, which did it no injury.
AN ERA OF GREAT EXTRAVAGANCE.
CHAPTER XIV.
_The first private Balls at Delmonico’s--A Nightingale who drove
Four-in-hand--Private Theatricals in a Stable--A Yachting Excursion
without wind and a Clam-bake under difficulties--A Poet describes
the Fiasco--Plates for foot-stools and parboiled Champagne for the
thirsty--The Silver, Gold, and Diamond Dinners--Giving presents to
guests._
Let us now return to New York and its gaieties. The Assemblies were
always given at Delmonico’s in Fourteenth Street, the best people in the
city chosen as a committee of management, and under the patronage of
ladies of established position. They were large balls, and embraced all
who were in what may be termed General Society. They were very
enjoyable. A distinguished banker, the head of one of our old families,
then gave the first _private_ ball at Delmonico’s to introduce his
daughters to society. It was superb. The Delmonico rooms were admirably
adapted for such an entertainment. There were at least eight hundred
people present, and the host brought from his well-filled cellar his
best Madeira and Hock. His was the pioneer private ball at this house.
Being a success, it then became the fashion to give private balls at
Delmonico’s, and certainly one could not have found better rooms for
such a purpose. One of the grandest and handsomest fancy balls ever
given here was given in these rooms a little later. Absent at the South,
I did not attend it. Then came in an era of great extravagance and
expenditure.
A beautiful woman, who was a nightingale in song, gave a fancy ball. It
was brilliantly successful, and brought its leader to the front, and
gave her a large following. It made her, with the personal attractions
she possessed, the belle of that winter. Among other accomplishments,
she drove four horses beautifully. I remember during the summer passing
her on Bellevue Avenue as she sat perched up on the box-seat of a drag,
driving four fine horses, handling the ribbons with a grace and ease
that was admirable. All paid court to her. She won the hearts of both
men and women.
At this time a man of great energy and pluck loomed up, and attracted,
in fact absorbed to a great extent, the attention of society. Full of
energy and enterprise, and supplied with abundant means, he did a great
deal for New York, much that will live after him. He created Jerome
Park; and not only created it, but got society into it. He made it the
Goodwood of America, and caused society to take an interest in it. He
opened that park most brilliantly, and, by his energy and perseverance,
rendered it for years a most enjoyable place for all New Yorkers.
Admiring the beautiful cantatrice, he proposed to her to turn his
luxurious stables into a theatre, and ask the fashionable world to come
and see her act “for sweet charity’s sake,”--to raise funds for the sick
and wounded soldiers. In doing this, he assured her that she would
literally bring the fashionable world to her feet to petition and sue
for tickets of admission to this theatre. And so it proved. All flocked
to see this accomplished woman act. The work of this energetic man was
admirably done. He made a gem of his stable. I can but compare it to a
little royal theatre. As you entered you were received by liveried
servants, and by them conducted to your seat, where you found yourself
surrounded by a most brilliant assemblage; and on the stage, as amateur
actresses, supporting the fair singer, the fashionable beauties of that
day. This was not the least of this generous man’s performances. Being
an admirable four-in-hand driver, he at once revived the spirit for
driving four horses. He turned out daily with his drag or coach loaded
with beautiful women, and drove to every desirable little country inn in