Ah! but that was a remarkable throng! My memory, as I recall that night, seems like a long chain, of which, if I strike but a single link, the entire length rattles! Beautiful Thérèse Chalfant Pugh as “Night”—what a vision she was, and what a companion picture Mrs. Douglas, who, as “Aurora,” was radiant in the pale tints of the morning! There were mimic Marchionesses, and Kings of England and France and Prussia; White Ladies of Avenel and Dukes of Buckingham, Maids of Athens and Saragossa, gypsies and fairies, milkmaids, and even a buxom barmaid; Antipholus himself and the Priestess Norma, Pierrots and Follies, peasants and Highland chiefs moving in heterogeneous fashion in the great ballrooms.
Barton Key, as an English hunter, clad in white satin breeks, cherry-velvet jacket, and jaunty cap, with lemon-coloured high-top boots, and a silver bugle (upon which he blew from time to time) hung across his breast, was a conspicuous figure in that splendid happy assemblage, and Mlle. de Montillon was a picture in the Polish character costume in which her mother had appeared when she danced in a Polonaise before the Empress at the Tuilleries.
Sir William Gore Ouseley, the “Knight of the Mysterious Mission,” attracted general attention in his character of Knight Commander of the Bath. The Baroness de Staeckl and Miss Cass were models of elegance as French Court beauties, and Mrs. Jefferson Davis as Mme. de Staël dealt in caustic repartee as became her part, delivered now in French and again in broken English, to the annihilation of all who had the temerity to cross swords with her.
Among the guests “our furrin relations” were numerously represented, and I remember well the burst of laughter which greeted Mrs. Partington when she asked Lady Napier, with a confidential and sympathetic air, “whether the Queen had got safely over her last encroachment.” Incidentally she added some good advice on the bringing up of children, illustrating its efficacy by pointing to Ike, whom she “was teaching religiously both the lethargy and the cataplasm!”
My memories of Mrs. Gwin’s ball would be incomplete did I not mention two or more of Aunt Ruthy’s escapades during the evening. The rumour of my intended impersonation had aroused in the breast of a certain Baltimorean youth the determination to disturb, “to break up Mrs. Clay’s composure.” I heard of the young man’s intention through some friend early in the evening, and my mother-wit, keyed as it was to a pitch of alertness, promptly aided me to the overthrow of the venturesome hero. He came garbed as a newsboy, and, nature having provided him with lusty lungs, he made amusing announcements as to the attractions of his wares, at the most unexpected moments. Under his arm he carried a bundle of papers which he hawked about in a most professional manner. At an unfortunate moment he walked hurriedly by as if on his rounds, and stopping beside me he called out confidently, “Baltimore Sun! Have a ‘Sun,’ Madam?”
MRS. JEFFERSON DAVIS
of Mississippi
“Tut, tut! Man!” said Mrs. Partington, horrified. “How dare you ask such a question of a virtuous female widow woman?” Then bursting into sobs and covering her eyes with the broad text of the “Declaration of Independence,” she cried, “What would my poor Paul think of that?” To the hilarious laughter of those who had gathered about us, the routed hero retreated hastily, and, for the remainder of the evening, restrained by a wholesome caution, he gave Aunt Ruthy a wide berth.
Such kind greetings as came to this unsophisticated visitor to the ball! “You’re the sweetest-looking old thing!” exclaimed “Lushe” Lamar before he had penetrated my disguise. “I’d just like to buss you!”
I had an amusing rencontre with Senator Seward that evening. That this pronounced Northerner had made numerous efforts in the past to meet me I was well aware; but my Southern sentiments were wholly disapproving of him, and I had resisted even my kinder-hearted husband’s plea, and had steadily refused to permit him to be introduced to me. “Not even to save the Nation could I be induced to eat his bread, to drink his wine, to enter his domicile, to speak to him!” I once impetuously declared, when the question came up in private of attending some function which the Northern Senator was projecting.