Through Colonial Doorways

by Anne Hollingsworth Wharton

The owner of this property was dubbed by his contemporaries “Duke Wharton,” in consequence of the extreme haughtiness of his bearing and, it is said, from the following circumstance: “One winter’s day, when the sidewalks were rendered dangerously slippery from the accumulated ice upon them, Mr. Wharton, while attempting to make his usual dignified progress over the uncertain footing, was suddenly tripped up, and would have measured his length upon the pavement, had not a jovial Hibernian, passing at the moment, stretched forth a friendly hand to his aid, crying out, ‘God save my Lord the Duke!’” Another amusing passage of compliments, this time with Sir William Draper, is related by Graydon: “Sir William, observing that Mr. Wharton entered the room hat in hand, and remained uncovered, begged, as it was contrary to the custom of his Society to do so, that the Quaker gentleman would dispense with this unnecessary mark of respect. But the ‘Duke,’ feeling his pride piqued at the supposition that he would uncover to Sir William or any other man, replied, with entire sang-froid, that he had uncovered for his own comfort, the day being warm, and that whenever he found it convenient he would resume his hat.” These and other stories, all indicating a pride that seems to have been considered commendable in those days, repeated with embellishments, doubtless added to the merriment of many convivial after-dinner gatherings, and passing from mouth to mouth, served to establish the reputation and title of this old Quaker gentleman, whose death occurred more than a year previous to the British occupation of Philadelphia.[2] The fact that Walnut Grove was a country-seat, and in all probability used by the Wharton family only during the summer months, may account for the British officers having entire possession of the premises in the spring of ’78, while its size and situation made it an appropriate place in which to hold their revels. Surrounded by broad lawns and lofty trees, situated at some distance west of the Delaware River, at what is now Fifth Street near Washington Avenue, Walnut Grove was then considered quite a rural residence. It has long since disappeared, the encroaching streets of a busy city having rendered almost traditional the theatre of this gay and brilliant scene, although there were those still living, on the anniversary of the festival in 1878, who recalled the old brick house as it stood in Colonial times, and one who slid down the balusters of the stairway in boyish frolic, with never a thought of all the gay and gallant throng which once passed over the stairs and down the broad hall to the sound of music, merry jests, courtly compliments, and rippling laughter.

It is said that there were not many ladies with the British officers in Philadelphia, most of them having left their wives in New York; so, there being few authorities to consult about the prevailing fashions at the court of the beautiful Austrian or the less beautiful Queen Charlotte, our young ladies were forced to rely upon their own ingenuity in the arrangement of their toilets. Those chosen to be knights’ ladies were assisted by the taste and skill of André, whose water-color design for the costume of the ladies of the Blended Rose is still preserved, representing a curious combination of Oriental and Parisian styles, its flowing tunic over full Turkish trousers being topped by the high coiffure of the day. Miss Peggy Shippen’s portrait[3] represents her in this head-dress, and in a letter written to her in August, 1779, André playfully alludes to his millinery experience gained during preparations for the fête:

“You know the Mesquianza made me a complete milliner. Should you not have received supplies for your fullest equipment from that department, I shall be glad to enter into the whole details of cap-wire, needles, gauze, &c., and, to the best of my abilities, render you in these trifles services from which I hope you would infer a zeal to be further employed.”

A rash offer, it seems to us, for what knight, be he never so bold, would be willing to enter into all the intricacies and mysteries of a modern feminine toilet? And those of the days of powder, patch, and high befeathered coiffure were certainly not less bewildering to the minds of the uninitiated.

Although from various sources we learn that André took an active part in the preparations for the Meschianza, out of doors as well as among laces and silks in fair ladies’ boudoirs, Mr. Sargent tells us that Burgoyne[4] was the conductor of the elegant affair, which was on the plan of a fête champêtre given by Lord Derby, June, 1774, on the occasion of Lord Stanley’s marriage with the Duke of Hamilton’s daughter. Only about fifty young Philadelphia ladies were present at the Meschianza; but if we are to credit history and the gossip of the day, the destruction wrought by their charms upon the hearts of the British officers must have been equal to that to have been expected from twice their number, for all authorities unite in telling us that the ladies of this city were justly celebrated for their beauty, of a certain grand and noble type. Watson says that most of the American gentlemen who took part in the Meschianza were “aged non-combatants,” the young men of the city being Whigs, and generally, be it said to their credit, with Washington’s army at Valley Forge.

There seems to be no doubt that a number of Whig ladies graced this entertainment, and one of them, herself, describes the affair in glowing colors. What shall we say for the erring fair ones? That they were young, beautiful, anxious to see and perhaps to be seen. Shall we, standing amid the lights and shadows of another century, be severe in our judgment upon these fair, curious Eves of a hundred years ago? They had read of grand doings among court ladies and gentlemen in the exaggerated and stilted romances of the day, until their foolish hearts were in an eager flutter of anticipation and delight. The whole town was talking about the projected fête; the young officers were constantly passing to and fro busied with the arrangements; so grand a sight might never again dawn upon the Philadelphia world. Thus reasoning, and dropping the while a tear for the braves at Valley Forge, these inconsistent Whig ladies yielded.

From the windows of some dwellings belonging to Friends—opposed in principle to such scenes of gayety and dissipation—eyes as eager as any looked forth upon the busy scene of preparation, like doves from behind imprisoning bars. Sweet young Quakeresses, gentle-eyed as the dove and gentle-voiced, that gay land of enchantment down the river—a seeming Elysium—is not for you! How they must have longed to go—sitting by the fireside, like so many Cinderellas, watching their happy sisters start off bravely attired to the ball! To them, alas! came no fairy godmother, so they reluctantly folded their soft wings and stayed at home.

In a little, old, commonplace-book found in a house in Southwark, and now in the possession of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, among extracts from various authors—some in English, some in Latin, proving the unknown writer to have been a person of taste and culture—is a description of the Meschianza penned by an eyewitness. With the exception of the well-known account of the fête given by Major André in a letter to a friend in England, this is the most detailed recital that we have encountered. Opening the yellowed pages, we read:

“Agreeable to an invitation of the managers of the Meschianza, Dr. M., Mr. F., and myself went up about four o’clock in the afternoon, in Mr. F.’s Coach, to Knight’s wharf, where we found most of the company in the Boats. Some of these were on the water in the galley with Lord Howe, among them Mrs. Chew, Mrs. Hamilton, Mrs. Worrell, Mrs. Coxe, Miss Chew, Miss Auchmuty, Miss Redman, Miss Franks, &c., General Howe, Sir Henry Clinton, Lord Rawdon, &c.; and General Knyphausen and his attendants were in another Galley. We continued waiting on the water for the rest of the company near half an Hour, when, a Signal being given from the ‘Vigilant,’ we began to move in three divisions, a Galley and ten flatboats in each division. In the first was General Knyphausen, &c., in the third British and German officers, and in the middle, Lord General Howe, &c.—with three Barges, in each of which were bands of music playing.”

A lady in Philadelphia at this time who attended the Meschianza, although she declares herself a noted Whig, thus describes this portion of the entertainment in a letter addressed to Mrs. Colonel Theodorick Bland, in Virginia: