<h3><SPAN name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></SPAN>CHAPTER II.</h3>
<div class="blockquot"><p><i>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></p>
</div>
<p><span class="smcap">I myself</span> 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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_014" id="page_014"></SPAN>{14}</span> 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.’<span class="lftspc">”</span> 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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_015" id="page_015"></SPAN>{15}</span> 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.</p>
<p>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 <i>affaire de luxe</i> 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,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_016" id="page_016"></SPAN>{16}</span> 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.</p>
<p>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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_017" id="page_017"></SPAN>{17}</span> the rage, and every one was seized with a desire to perfect
himself in dancing.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_018" id="page_018"></SPAN>{18}</span> 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:<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_019" id="page_019"></SPAN>{19}</span></p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“These flowers, dear lady, unto thee I bring,<br/></span>
<span class="i3">With hopes as timid as the dawning spring,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Which oft repelled by many a chilling blast<br/></span>
<span class="i3">Still trusts its offerings may succeed at last.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i1">Receive thou, emblem of the rosy spring,<br/></span>
<span class="i3">Charmer of life, of every earthly thing,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">These flowers, which lovely as the tints of morn<br/></span>
<span class="i3">Yet ne’er can hope thy beauty to adorn.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i1">Oh, may they plead for one who never knew<br/></span>
<span class="i3">Perfection’s image till he met with you;<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Oh, may their fragrance to thy heart convey<br/></span>
<span class="i3">How much he would, but does not dare to say.”<br/></span></div>
</div></div>
<p>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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_020" id="page_020"></SPAN>{20}</span> 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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_021" id="page_021"></SPAN>{21}</span> 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
law office, and with me, on the 13th of May, 1850, left for San
Francisco, where in two years he made a comfortable fortune, retired
from practice and went to Europe. My brother Hall’s motto was, “Ten
millions or nothing.” He made himself, to my certain knowledge, two
comfortable fortunes. Grand speculations to double my father’s fortune
very soon made inroads in it, and the dear old gentleman to save a
remnant returned to this country. As he expressed himself to me,
“California must have a Circuit Judge of the United States. I will get
our Democratic Congress to pass a bill to this effect, and will myself
return to California as its United States Circuit Judge. I do not care
to return to the practice of law when I reach San Francisco, where, I
expect to find that, like the ‘fruit of the Dead Sea,’ my little
competency<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_022" id="page_022"></SPAN>{22}</span> will turn into ashes at the touch. Being on the Bench, I
shall at least have a support”; all of which he carried out to the
letter, and he died devoted to the people of the State of California.</p>
<p>Imagine me then, a well-fed man, with always an appreciative appetite,
learning, on my arrival in San Francisco, that eggs, without which I
could not breakfast, cost $2 apiece, a fowl $8, a turkey $16. One week’s
mess bill for my breakfast and dinner alone was $225, and one visit to
my doctor cost me $50. Gloom settled upon me, until my noble parent
requested me to bring back to the office our first retainer (for I was
then a member of my father and brother’s law firm). It was $4000 in gold
ounces. I put it in a bag and lugged it to the office, and as I laid
them ounce by ounce on my father’s desk, he danced a pirouette, for he
was as jolly an old fellow as ever lived. I went to work at once in
earnest; it struck me that in that country it was “root, pig, or die.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_023" id="page_023"></SPAN>{23}</span>”</p>
<p>My first purchase was a desk, which combined the qualities of bed and
desk. How well I remember the rats playing hide-and-seek over me at
night, and over the large barrel of English Brown Stout that I invested
in and placed in the entry to console myself with. After six months’
hard work, I began to ease up, and feel rich. I built a small house for
myself, the front entry 4 × 4, the back entry the same, one dining-room
12 × 14, and one bedroom, same dimensions. My furniture, just from
Paris, was acajou and white and blue horsehair. My bed-quilt cost me
$250; it was a lovely Chinese floss silk shawl. An Indian chief, calling
to see me, found me in bed, and was so delighted with the blankets that
he seized hold of them and exclaimed, “<i>Quanto pesos?</i>” (How much did
they cost?)</p>
<p>My first row as a householder was with my neighbor, a Texan. I found my
yard fence, if put up, would close up the windows and front door of his
house. We had an interview. He, with strong adjectives,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_024" id="page_024"></SPAN>{24}</span> assured me that
he would blow out my brains if I put up that fence. I asked him in
reply, where he kept his private burying ground. All men then went armed
day and night. For two years I slept with a revolver under my pillow.
With a strong force of men the next day, I put up the fence, and the
Texan moved out and sold his lot. As our firm was then making $100,000 a
year, our senior partner, my father, asked me to entertain, for the
firm, our distinguished European clients, as he himself had not the time
to do so. His injunction to me was, “Be sure, my boy, that you always
invite nice people.” I had heard that my dear old father had on more
than one occasion gotten off a witticism on me as follows: Being told
how well his son kept house, he replied, “Yes, he keeps everything but
the Ten Commandments,” so I assured him if he would honor me with his
presence I would have to meet him every respectable woman in the city,
and I kept my word. Before we reached the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_025" id="page_025"></SPAN>{25}</span> turkey, my guests had so
thoroughly dined that when it appeared, the handsomest woman in the room
heaved a deep sigh and exclaimed, “Oh, that I might have some of it for
lunch to-morrow!” Such dinners as I then gave, I have never seen
surpassed anywhere. It is needless to say that my father was intensely
gratified. We had, tempted by exaggerated accounts of the gold fields,
French cooks who received $6000 a year as salary. The turkey, costly as
it was at $16, always came on table with its feathered tail intact, and
as eggs were so expensive, <i>omelette soufflée</i> was always the dish at
dessert. Two years was the length of my stay in San Francisco.</p>
<p>On reaching New York in 1852, from California, I found great objection
made to my return there as a married man, and gracefully yielded to
circumstances. Though loath to give up my profession of the law, I was
forced to make this sacrifice; so the moment I concluded to give up
California and the legal profession,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_026" id="page_026"></SPAN>{26}</span> not wishing to be idle, I went to
Washington and applied to the President for the position of Secretary of
Legation in England. The Georgia, South Carolina, Virginia, and
California delegations urged me for this appointment; Mr. Buchanan was
going to England as Minister. He was a warm friend of my father’s, and,
when approached, expressed not only willingness but gratification at
having the son of an old friend as his Secretary of Legation, and I was
to have had the position. But just at this time, my father, who had
returned from Europe, wished to obtain from President Pierce the
appointment of Circuit Judge of the United States for the State of
California. He came to me and stated the case as follows: “My boy,” he
said, “the President says he cannot give two appointments to one family.
If you go to England as Buchanan’s Secretary, President Pierce cannot
make me Circuit Judge of California.” “Enough said,” I replied, “I yield
with pleasure. I will go<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_027" id="page_027"></SPAN>{27}</span> abroad, but not in the diplomatic service.”
Passing the winter in Washington, I soon learned how to ingratiate
myself with the law-makers of our country. Good dinners and wine were
always effective. And as I had the friendship of the California, New
York and Southern delegations, I was dining out all the time, invited by
one man or other who had an axe to grind. On these occasions, there was
always a room prepared to receive a guest who had indulged too freely in
strong waters. Men then drank in good earnest, a striking contrast to
the days in which we now live, when really, at dinner, people only taste
wine, but do not drink it. I was then placed on the Committee of
Management for the Inaugural Ball, and did good service and learned much
from my Washington winter.</p>
<p>An amusing incident I must here relate. Quietly breakfasting and
chatting with a beautiful woman, then a bride, who had lived for years
in Washington as a widow, she asked me if I was going to Corcoran<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_028" id="page_028"></SPAN>{28}</span>’s
ball that evening, and on my replying, “Yes, of course I was,” she
requested me to accompany her husband and self, which I did. On entering
Mr. Corcoran’s ball room with her on my arm, I noticed that the old
gentleman bowed very stiffly to us; however, I paid no attention to this
and went on dancing, and escorting through the rooms my fair partner,
from whom I had no sooner been separated than my host slapped me on the
shoulder with, “My dear young man, I know you did not know it, but the
lady you have just had on your arm is not only not a guest of mine, but
this morning I positively refused to send her an invitation to this
ball.” Fortunately I had brought letters to this distinguished man, so
seeing my annoyance, he patted me on the shoulder and said, “My boy,
this is not an unusual occurrence in this city; but let it be a warning
to you to take care hereafter whom you bring to a friend’s house.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_029" id="page_029"></SPAN>{29}</span>”</p>
<h2><SPAN name="INTRODUCTION_TO_LONDON_SPORTS" id="INTRODUCTION_TO_LONDON_SPORTS"></SPAN>INTRODUCTION TO LONDON SPORTS.</h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_030" id="page_030"></SPAN>{30}</span> </p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_031" id="page_031"></SPAN>{31}</span> </p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />