Table of Contents
CHAPTER II.
My New York Life—A Penurious Aunt who Fed me on Turkey—My First Fancy Ball—Spending One Thousand Dollars for a Costume—The Schermerhorns give a Ball in Great Jones Street—Sticking a Man’s Calf and Drawing Blood—A Craze for Dancing—I Study Law—Blackstone has a Rival in Lovely Southern Maidens—I go to San Francisco in ’50—Fees Paid in Gold Dust—Eggs at $2—My First Housekeeping—A faux pas at a Reception.
I myself soon left Savannah for New York after Hall’s departure, residing there in Tenth Street with an old maiden lady, my relative and godmother, whom I always felt would endow me with all her worldly goods, but who, I regret to say, preferred the Presbyterian church and the Georgia Historical Society to myself, for between them she divided a million. At that time Tenth Street was a fashionable street; our house was a comfortable, ordinary one, but my ancient relative considered it a palace, so that all her visitors were taken from garret to cellar to view it. Occupying the front room in the third story, as I would hear these visitors making for my room, I often had to scramble into the bath-room or under the bed, to hide myself. Having a large fortune, my relative, whom I called Aunt (but who was really only my father’s cousin), was saving to meanness; her plantations in the South furnished our table; turkeys came on in barrels. “It was turkey hot and turkey cold, turkey tender, and turkey tough, until at grace one would exclaim, ‘I thank ye, Lord, we’ve had enough.’” As the supposed heir of my saving godmother, the portals of New York society were easily open to me, and I well remember my first fancy ball, given by Mrs. John C. Stevens in her residence in College Place. A company of soldiers were called in to drill on the waxed floors to perfect them for dancing. A legacy of a thousand dollars paid me by the New York Life Insurance and Trust Company I expended in a fancy dress, which I flattered myself was the handsomest and richest at the ball. I danced the cotillion with a nun, a strange costume for her to appear in, as “I wont be a nun” was engraved on every expression of her face. She was at that day one of the brightest and most charming young women in this city, and had a power of fascination rarely equaled.
The next great social event that I recall was the great fancy ball given by the Schermerhorns in their house on the corner of Great Jones Street and Lafayette Place. All the guests were asked to appear in the costume of the period of Louis XV. The house itself was furnished and decorated in that style for this occasion. No pains or expense were spared. It was intended to be the greatest affaire de luxe New Yorkers had ever seen. The men, as well as the women, vied with each other in getting up as handsome costumes as were ever worn at that luxurious Court. The lace and diamonds on the women astonished society. All the servants of the house wore costumes, correct copies of those worn at that period. The men in tights and silk stockings, for the first time in their lives, became jealous of each other’s calves, and in one instance, a friend of mine, on gazing at the superb development in this line of a guest, doubted nature’s having bestowed such generous gifts on him; so, to satisfy himself, he pricked his neighbor’s calf with his sword, actually drawing blood, but the possessor of the fine limbs never winced; later on he expressed forcibly his opinion of the assault. By not wincing the impression that he had aided nature was confirmed.
These two balls were the greatest social events that had ever occurred in this city. Even then subscription balls were the fashion. One of the most brilliant was given at Delmonico’s on the corner of Beaver and William streets (the old building in which the ball was given is now being torn down). Saracco’s dancing-rooms were then much resorted to. They became the rage, and every one was seized with a desire to perfect himself in dancing.
Disgusted with book-keeping, I resolved to study law, and knowing that I could not do much studying whilst flirting and going to balls and dinners, I went South to my native city, took up the second volume of Blackstone, committed it to memory, passed an examination, and was admitted to the bar by one of our ex-ministers to Austria, then a judge.
Blackstone did not wholly absorb all my time that winter. I exercised my memory in the morning and indulged my imagination of an afternoon, breathing soft words to lovely Southern maidens, in the piney groves which surround that charming city. From time immemorial they had always given these on Valentine’s Eve a Valentine party. I was tempted to go to the one given that year. And as I entered the house a basketful of sealed envelopes was handed me, one of which I took; on breaking the seal, I found on the card the name of a brilliant, charming young woman, whom I then had a right to claim as my partner for the evening, but to whom I must bend the knee, and express interest and devotion to her in a species of poetical rhapsody. As all the young men were to go through the same ordeal, it was less embarrassing. From the time of entering the ball-room until the late hour at which supper was served, the guests in the crowded rooms were laughing over the sight of each young man dropping on one knee before his partner and presenting her with a bouquet of flowers, and in low and tender words pouring out his soul in poetry. When it came my turn, I secured a cushion and down I went, the young woman laughing immoderately; but I, not in the least perturbed, grasping my bouquet of flowers with one hand and placing my other hand over my heart, looking into the depths of her lovely eyes, addressed to her these words:
“These flowers, dear lady, unto thee I bring,
With hopes as timid as the dawning spring,
Which oft repelled by many a chilling blast
Still trusts its offerings may succeed at last.
Receive thou, emblem of the rosy spring,
Charmer of life, of every earthly thing,
These flowers, which lovely as the tints of morn
Yet ne’er can hope thy beauty to adorn.
Oh, may they plead for one who never knew
Perfection’s image till he met with you;
Oh, may their fragrance to thy heart convey
How much he would, but does not dare to say.”
In the mean time, while I was dancing and reciting poetry to beautiful women, my generous brother was rapidly making money at the bar in San Francisco, and urging my father and me to leave Georgia and go to him, writing that he was making more money in two months’ practice than my father received in a year. This to my conservative parent seemed incredible; he shook his head, saying to me, “It is hard for an old tree to take root in a new soil.” His friends of the Savannah bar ridiculed his entertaining the notion of leaving Georgia, where his father had been a Judge of the Superior Court of that State; he himself had been United States District Attorney, for years had presided over the Georgia Senate, had been nominated for Governor of the State, and for a lifetime had been at the head of the Georgia bar. Always a Union man, opposing Nullification, he was beloved by the people of his State, and his law practice was then most lucrative. The idea of his pulling up stakes and going to the outposts of civilization seemed absurd. He would not entertain the thought; he laughed at my brother’s Arabian Nights stories of his law firm in San Francisco making money at the rate of $100,000 a year. But just here, my father’s purpose was suddenly shaken, by my brother’s remitting to me a large amount of money in gold dust, and he, my father, being then paid five thousand dollars by the Bank of the State of Georgia for an argument made for them before the United States Supreme Court at Washington. My gold dust was tangible evidence of my brother’s success, and as continual dropping wears away a stone, so by continual pleading I at last persuaded him to take me to California. Mournfully he sold our old homestead and sadly closed up his Savannah
