On examining the premises, I found that on a new floor they had put a heavy coat of varnish; there was nothing then to be done but to sprinkle it thickly with corn meal, and then sweep it off, and renew the dressing from time to time. It is well to say here that if a floor is too slippery (which it often is, if hard wood is used and it is new), there is nothing to be done but to sprinkle it with powdered pumice-stone, sweeping it off before dancing on it; and again, if it is not slippery enough, then, as above, give it repeated doses of corn meal, and the roughest floor is soon put in good condition to dance on.
The opening quadrille of this ball was very effective. We formed in the second story of the Hall. I led the way to the ball-room with the “fairest of the fair,” the daughter of one of the most distinguished men in this country (who had not only been Governor of this State, but Secretary of State of the United States). We were surrounded by a noble throng of old New Yorkers, all eager to view the opening quadrille. The ladies were in Colonial costumes, representing Lady Washington and the ladies of her court. As I walked through the crowded rooms, having on my arm one of our brilliant society women, “a flower which was not quite a flower, yet was no more a bud,” we met approaching us a lady in indeed gorgeous apparel—so gorgeous, that the lady on my arm at once accosted her with, “Good gracious, my dear Mrs. B——, what have you got on? Let me look at you.” Her head was a mass of the most superb ostrich plumes, Prince of Wales feathers, which towered above her, and as she advanced would bend gracefully forward, nodding to you, as it were, to approach and do her honor. Her dress, neck, and shoulders were ablaze with jewels and precious stones, and in her hand she carried an old Spanish fan, such as a queen might envy. The following reply to the query came from this royal dame: “What have I got on? Why, Madame, I had a grandmother!” “Had you, indeed! Then, if that was her garb, she must have been Pocahontas, or the Empress of Morocco!” The war of words beginning to be a little sharp, I pressed on, only to meet another famous lady, whose birthplace was Philadelphia, and who had had no end of grandmothers. She wore a superb dress of scarlet and gold, tight-fitting, such as was worn during the Empire. Another young woman wore her great-grandmother’s dress, pink and brown striped brocade, cut like Martha Washington’s dress in the Republican Court, in which her great grandmother figured. The wife of a prominent jurist, a remarkably handsome woman, with a grand presence and a noble carriage, representing Lady Washington, wore, to all eyes, the most attractive costume there.
During the winter of 1877, a Southern woman of warm sympathies, great taste, and natural ability, having married a young man of colossal fortune, was urged to take in hand the cause of the wounded Christians in the Russian-Turkish War, and raise funds to send to their relief. To do this, she formed the “Society of the Crescent and the Cross,” and a ball was given under her auspices at the Academy of Music, remembered in society as the “Turkish Ball.”
This lady did me the honor of making me the Chairman of the Floor Committee of that ball. Consulting with her, we selected the members of the opening quadrille, and took good care to choose the most brilliant women in this city. My partner was one of the greatest belles New York has ever had, a woman of such air and distinction, such beauty of face and charm of manner, as we read of, but rarely see.
Our quadrille, formed on the stage of this large opera house, with the guests of the ball filling the galleries and looking down on it, was no sooner over than I found we were in this dilemma: Our little quadrille was left in full possession of the vast auditorium, and the question was, how to get the people to leave the boxes and come down to us. It was not in any way a full ball, and as the ladies who had danced in the quadrille at once retired to their boxes, they left me, as it were, sole occupant of the dancing floor. However, I rushed around and here and there collected dancing men, and succeeded in getting a respectable number on the floor, and infused spirit into the dancing.
The trouble in such cases is the indisposition of ladies to dance at a public ball, other than in an opening quadrille. The ball, however, went merrily on to a late hour.
A few years later, I was asked to be one of the Floor Committee of the ball to be given to the distinguished French and German officers who came over to join in our celebration of the Centennial of the Battle of Yorktown. This was the invitation:
Office of the French Reception Commission, Room 7, Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York, 28th October, 1881.
Dear Sir:
The Commissioners appointed by the Governor of the State to extend its courtesies to the guests of the Nation, request that you will act as one of the Floor Committee on the occasion of the Ball to be given at the Metropolitan Casino, on the evening of November 7.