 | Saratoga in 1901 |  |
FASHIONABLE SOCIETY AT THE CIRCUS.
(A Satire.)
Congress Hall, Aug. 15.
Yesterday all of the
“best society” in Saratoga
went to Barnum's
Circus. I was invited
to go with a very aristocratic
party from the
Clarendon. It was quite
a relief to get away from
the crowded hotel balconies.
They said, “Mr.
Perkins is a very respectable
and confidential
old fellow, who
always looks after the
camel's-hair shawls and
opera-glasses while we
frolic with the round-dance
fellows, and we
must have him.”
I was glad to go.
We had been amusing
ourselves on the
Clarendon steps betting
with the ladies. Just
opposite is a Catholic
church. They have a
good many funerals there. It is the only relief the Clarendonites
have from their monotony. On account of the snakes in the
Springs, a good many Saratoga people die—others drink themselves
to death; but Charles Leland manages to have all the
to sit there and hear the witty repartees, the funny anecdotes, and
watch the processions.
AFFECTING INCIDENT.
When the bell tolls there is a general rush to the balcony, and
when the age begins to be struck the betting commences.
The sexton strikes 1—2—3—4—5—6—7—8—9—10: then
comes a long pause.
“I'll bet the age is over thirty,” says Mr. Hunter.
“I'll t-t-take it!” shout Mr. Traverse and a dozen others.
Everybody gets excited, and, for the time being, the balcony
becomes like the Fifth Avenue bar-room, after a Wall street smash
up
The bell tolls out the second 1—2—3—4—5—6—7—8—9—
10;—11—12—13—14—15—16—17—18—19—20;—then five
more.
“T-T-tw-twenty-f-five,” shouts Mr. Traverse, who pays his
money and goes on to tell his “parrot story” for the nine hundred
and fifty-sixth time.
The hotel again relaxes into its accustomed mournfulness—
the old bachelors fall asleep over the slow dolies, cross husbands
rush upstairs to scold their wives, and the old maids convene
to hear committee reports on incomes and pedigrees and read
Mr. Perkins' faithful account of the previous day's festivities.
Yes, we all went to
the Circus,—the swell
fellows, the aristocratic
young ladies from
the Clarendon, and
the jolly old Catholic
priests from the American.
The sixteen Catholic priests were the light of the entertainment.
Between scenes, they spent their time talking about the
infallibility of the Pope, and looking at our group of aristocratic
young ladies from the Clarendon.
Two of them attempted a flirtation, but Wm. Traverse got in
between them and the ladies, and became a wall of protect on.
The Protestant clergymen generally behaved well. They
occupied front seats, with benches full of Sabbath-school
children, and good-looking young ladies. Their behavior, as I
remarked before, was generally good, and reflected credit on
the theological institutions from which they were graduated.
When D. Castello entered the arena the eye of every clergyman
was upon him. They were looking for religious jokes to
enliven their sermons.
“I have been in every profession of life,” said D. Castello. “I
have been a carpenter, a mason, a shipbuilder and a whaler.”
“You a seafaring man?” exclaimed the man with the eagle
eye in the centre; “where were you ever a whaler?”
“Why, I used to cruise around nights and come home and
whale the children in the morning,” remarked D. C.
Seventeen Catholic priests leaned forward on their seats and
laughed. They were soon joined by eleven of the Protestant
clergymen, and there was one united laugh, as if there was no
religious barrier between them. Some laughed tenor, some in
bass, but it sounded well, and I thought I should like to introduce
them all to our Clarendon young ladies, and give them one nice
square religious hour of enjoyment. Dr. Corey said he would be
responsible for the Protestants. But I did not introduce them.
“SOCIETY PEOPLE.”
One of the most interesting features of the gathering was
viewed from a society stand-point.
Some of the most dilettante beaux and belles of Saratoga
County were present. The toilets were generally remarked by
the Clarendon ladies to be superb.
As, writing from the great American watering-place, I am
expected to give fashionable news, toilets and dresses, I write the
following from notes taken on the spot.
I write of this grand
“society” event for
the benefit of “society”
people in New
York—people who
read “society” newspapers
and dote on
having their charity
ball-dresses done up
by the fashion writers.
Personality is my aim,
for it is just “the
cheese” now-a-days to
call a young lady's
name and hold her up
to the gaze of the public
as my “society”
clown holds up the hoop mirror full of fashionables who went to
the circus.
PERSONAL.
There were present, I learn from the Pedigree Committee, some
of the most aristocratic families of Saratoga and Albany Counties.
There were the Perkinses, distant relatives to our Perkinses,
whose ancestors distinguished themselves on the old battle-field
of Saratoga—they carried water to the British; there were the
Kershaws, an old family related to the Burgoynes. Sir John
Kershaw refused a ducal coronet in 1436. When Frederick the
Great urged it upon him he said, “No, no, your honor; I am not
guilty. Give it to General McClellan.”
There were the Fitches, who for seventeen generations have
pursued patriotic husbandry near Saratoga Lake—they raised
cucumbers and spring chickens on the battle ground of Saratoga
for William Leland. John Fitch, the oldest son, went to the
(Gilsey House). It was there that he made his great speech,
which drew the attention of General Dent and Mr. Grant of
Washington, Mr. Grant expressed unqualified approbation of
the speech. He said, “Nothing has pleased me better for years
unless it was a span of horses from Collector Murphy.” Mr. Fitch,
immediately sent the President a tandem team.
That speech of Mr. Fitch at the bar
was a short one and did not create much
furore at first, but it has been repeated
many times since. It went into history.
Said Mr. Fitch, turning his eagle eye
upon the New York bar—“I'll take sugar
in mine!”[1]
The writer thought of leaving this speech of Judge Fitch out, fearing that
people would think it referred to the genial Judge John Fitch of New York. The
author refers to another Fitch, but even if this speech is attributed to Judge John
Fitch, he is so well known and loved by everybody as a representative man and
good citizen, that he is just the man to stand a joke.—The Author.
AN EPISODE OF WAR.
The descendants of the Greens were also present. The elder
Green, now a white-haired old man, was a leading Loyalist
during the Revolution. He was always to be found where the
balls were the thickest—under the ammunition
wagon. He was called upon to hold General
Burgoyne's horse, when General Sherman
ordered him to surrender. Burgoyne and
Sherman both dismounted near where the
Saratoga Monument now is, and walked over to Moon's, where
they drank milk punches and ate fried potatoes. Moon was then
a mere lad. He now totters under the weight of one hundred
and ten years. He says that the season is so short at the Lake
that in reality he has lived only forty-six years. Sherman and
Burgoyne were afterward joined by General Butler and General
Beauregard.
They adjourned over to Myers' Cedar Bluff Hotel and drank
more punches, when, in an unguarded moment, Burgoyne surrendered
his entire army. Moon, Mrs. Myers, Marvin, and
William Leland all signed the articles of capitulation, and the
affair ended up with a grand ball at the Clarendon. Many of
the Clarendon maiden ladies were young then, and it was no
uncommon thing to see them engage in dancing and other
innocent amusements.
The British troops were paroled the same day, and before the
season was over most of the officers had married rich wives from
among the guests of Congress Hall. Burgoyne himself became
Collector of the Port of New York, and succeeded, on a salary
of $3,000 per year, in amassing an immense fortune at the expiration
of eight months. I get this from the Clarendon Income
Committee. Burgoyne's grand-daughters, beautiful blondes, occupied
front seats at the circus to-day.
MORE PERSONAL.
There was another old family present at the circus to-day—
the Leicesters, from Ballston Spa. They descended from either
Lord Leicester, Earl of Dudley, or from C. Edwards Leicester
of New York, who afterward became the “glory and shame of
England.” They made a good
thing supplying the English army
with eggs and milk during their
march through Saratoga County.
They live on a princely estate, and
furnish squash and spinach daily
to Congress Hall.
TOILETS.
The toilets at the circus were
simply elegant. The Clarendonites
appeared in full dress, low necks,
and short sleeves. The gentlemen
the interesting exercises. The chief dressing was done by the
descendants of the old aristocratic families of Saratoga County.
GUESTS PRESENT—VERY PERSONAL.
Miss Mable Tucker, a charming brunette, wore a beautiful
variegated robe de coton, trimmed with gas-light green alpaca,
demi-train cut Pompadour. Her chapeau de paille was surmounted
by a waving ostrich plume, her shoes fine cuir de bæuf, strings
same material.
“She was much admired.”
Miss Nancy Perkins was accompanied by her fiancé, Mr.
Orrin Kershaw. Mr. K. wore un vieil habit, with boutons de
cuivre. His head was surmounted by a chapeau de brigand, and
on his neck he wore un col de papier. His face was decorated
with une moustache colorée. He had an aristocratic air, and sneezed
like one of the old families at the Clarendon.
“She was much admired.”
Miss Abigail Kittle, a lovely blonde, and daughter of the
aristocratic blacksmith, whose grandfather shoed General Burgoyne's
horses, wore two strips of cotton velvet around her neck,
and black linen shoe strings. Her hair, cheveux roux, was dressed
à la Pompadour, and her jewelry was of the richest bijoux de
cuivre. She wore petits short-fingered flynets on her hands. Her
shoulders humped gracefully over, and her arms dangled like
some of the fashionable young ladies at Congress Hall.
“She was much admired.”
Mrs. Ephrams Shaw née Smuggles, wife of the eminent carpenter
of Glen Mitchell, wore green figured alpaca, with yellow
bombazine overskirt, trimmed with Westchester County lace,
and looped up with wreathes of myrtle, black stokings cut décolletés,
and farmer's satin shoes, cut Pompadour, and court train.
Shoe strings of cuir de bæuf. Her dress resembled the new
Cretonne suits worn at Congress Hall.
She was much admired.
Mrs. Scrubson née Perkins, and the daughter of the aristocratic
Perkinses, who own a baronial estate and supply cucumbers to
William and Warren Leland, wore yellow nainsook, trimmed
with Scotch plaid poplin and real Saratoga County lace. Her
dress front was ornamented with a white apron, cut Pompadour,
and with court train. She carried a beautiful colored baby in
her arms. “She was much admired.” Her smile was one of sad
melancholy, like the old maids at the Clarendon while the
Congress hop is going on.
Miss Abigail Snicknor “was much admired.”
Miss Sarah Calkings “was a great favorite.”
Miss Nancy Scrum née Calkings, is a beautiful sneezer. She
does it in a sweet, natural manner. Her friends gather in crowds
to hear her sneeze. She wore red morocco shoes with blue
strings, cut Pompadour décolletée, and court train.
John Perkins, fiancé of Miss Snicknor,
wore a paper collar (un col de papier)
and waxed his mustache, like William
Leland. He was very much interested
in the monkeys and kangaroos.
He excused himself from the ladies
to look at them. He said he
liked to see the little kusses
jump up and squeal. The
Perkinses are a great family
in Saratoga County. John
Perkins is one of a family of
eleven—but not the only one.
He follows the glorious pursuit
of agriculture—he raises string beans for the Clarendon.
At the old Perkins manor house “he is monarch of all he surveys.”
He says he is, but alas! his eyes are “cut on a bias” and
he don't survey much.
There is a legend here that the Perkinses came here eleven
it—that they discovered Congress Spring and the old United
States Hotel, and then returned for old Chris., and followed him
up with the Mayflower. Benjamin Butler did not discover Saratoga,
though he did discover Great Bethel, in Virginia. Facts
and statistics are my forte, and I know what I write. I saw the
man who told me. Broadway, Saratoga, was then a “howling
wilderness.” Perkins heard it howl. It is generally quiet here
now. Howling has pretty much ceased.
“He was much admired.”
Miss Perkins is one of the most charming young ladies of
Saratoga.
Miss Kershaw is a beautiful dancer and “is much admired.”
ELI PERKINS OF CONNECTICUT.
Of course, you get the races by telegraph; if you don't you
should. I'm too busy with my hotel statistics to see horse races.
There was a terrible scramble, my Statician says, to get to the
track to-day. Every vehicle was engaged. Many ladies walked
out. The grand stand was full, the boulevard was watered, the
horses ran like the devil, and married gentlemen generally escorted
their wives. Eight hundred and thirty-six pair of four-button
gloves changed hands. Old John Harper wore the same old
grey coat, Belmont his silver plume, and Traverse a white suit
with red necktie.
| Saratoga in 1901 | |