which was surrounded by seats, and ascended by a few steps. It was in
these that each domestic group was seated in summer evenings to enjoy
the balmy twilight or the serenely clear moon light. Each family had a
cow, fed in a common pasture at the end of the town. In the evening the
herd returned all together ... with their tinkling bells ... along the
wide and grassy street to their wonted sheltering trees, to be milked at
their master's doors. Nothing could be more pleasing to a simple and
benevolent mind than to see thus, at one view, all the inhabitants of
the town, which contained not one very rich or very poor, very knowing,
or very ignorant, very rude, or very polished, individual; to see all
these children of nature enjoying in easy indolence or social
intercourse,

'The cool, the fragrant, and the dusky hour,'

clothed in the plainest habits, and with minds as undisguised and
artless.... At one door were young matrons, at another the elders of the
people, at a third the youths and maidens, gaily chatting or singing
together while the children played round the trees."[211]

With little learning save the knowledge of how to enjoy life, under no
necessity of pretending to enjoy a false culture, conforming to no false
values and artificialities, these simple-hearted people went their quiet
round of daily duties, took a normal amount of pleasure, and in their
old-fashioned way, probably lived more than any modern devotee of the
Wall Street they knew so well. Madam Knight in her _Journal_ comments
upon them in this fashion: "Their diversion in the winter is riding
sleighs about three or four miles out of town, where they have houses of
entertainment at a place called the Bowery, and some go to friends'
houses, who handsomely treat them. Mr. Burroughs carried his spouse and
daughter and myself out to one Madam Dowes, a gentlewoman that lived at
a farm house, who gave us a handsome entertainment of five or six
dishes, and choice beer and metheglin cider, etc., all of which she said
was the produce of her farm. I believe we met fifty or sixty sleighs;
they fly with great swiftness, and some are so furious that they will
turn out of the path for none except a loaded cart. Nor do they spare
for any diversion the place affords, and sociable to a degree, their
tables being as free to their neighbors as to themselves."

And Mrs. Grant has this to say of their love of children and
flowers--probably the most normal loves in the human soul: "Not only the
training of children, but of plants, such as needed peculiar care or
skill to rear them, was the female province.... I have so often beheld,
both in town and country, a respectable mistress of a family going out
to her garden, in an April morning, with her great calash, her little
painted basket of seeds, and her rake over her shoulder to her garden
labors.... A woman in very easy circumstances and abundantly gentle in
form and manner would sow and plant and rake incessantly. These fair
gardners were also great florists."[212]

Doubtless the whole world has heard of that other Dutch love--for good
things on the table. This epicurean trait perhaps has been exaggerated;
Mrs. Grant herself had her doubts at first; but she, like most visitors,
soon realized that a Dutchman's "tea" was a fair banquet. Hear again her
own words:

"They were exceedingly social, and visited each other frequently,
besides the regular assembling together in their porches every
evening.

"If you went to spend a day anywhere, you were received in a
manner we should think very cold. No one rose to welcome you; no
one wondered you had not come sooner, or apologized for any
deficiency in your entertainment. Dinner, which was very early,
was served exactly in the same manner as if there were only the
family. The house was so exquisitely neat and well regulated that
you could not surprise these people; they saw each other so often
and so easily that intimates made no difference. Of strangers
they were shy; not by any means of want of hospitality, but from
a consciousness that people who had little to value themselves on
but their knowledge of the modes and ceremonies of polished life
disliked their sincerity and despised their simplicity....

"Tea was served in at a very early hour. And here it was that the
distinction shown to strangers commenced. Tea here was a perfect
regale, being served up with various sorts of cakes unknown to
us, cold pastry, and great quantities of sweet meats and
preserved fruits of various kinds, and plates of hickory and
other nuts ready cracked. In all manner of confectionery and
pastry these people excelled."[213]

To the Puritan this manner of living evidently seemed ungodly, and
perhaps the citizens of New Amsterdam were a trifle lax not only in
their appetite for the things of this world, but also in their
indifference toward the Sabbath. As Madam Knight observes in her
_Journal_: "There are also Dutch and divers conventicles, as they call
them, viz., Baptist, Quaker, etc. They are not strict in keeping the
Sabbath, as in Boston and other places where I had been, but seemed to
deal with exactness as far as I see or deal with."

But the kindly sociableness of these Dutch prevented any decidedly
vicious tendency among them, and went far toward making amends for any
real or supposed laxity in religious principles. Even as children, this
social nature was consciously trained among them, and so closely did the
little ones become attached to one another that marriage meant not at
all the abrupt change and departure from former ways that it is rather
commonly considered to mean to-day. Says Mrs. Grant:

"The children of the town were all divided into companies, as they
called them, from five or six years of age, till they became
marriageable. How these companies first originated or what were their
exact regulations, I cannot say; though I belonging to nine occasionally
mixed with several, yet always as a stranger, notwithstanding that I
spoke their current language fluently. Every company contained as many
boys as girls. But I do not know that there was any limited number; only
this I recollect, that a boy and girl of each company, who were older,
cleverer, or had some other pre-eminence above the rest, were called
heads of the company, and, as such, were obeyed by the others.... Each
company, at a certain time of the year, went in a body to gather a
particular kind of berries, to the hill. It was a sort of annual
festival, attended with religious punctuality.... Every child was
permitted to entertain the whole company on its birthday, and once
besides, during the winter and spring. The master and mistress of the
family always were bound to go from home on these occasions, while some
old domestic was left to attend and watch over them, with an ample
provision of tea, chocolate, preserved and dried fruits, nuts and cakes
of various kinds, to which was added cider, or a syllabub.... The
consequence of these exclusive and early intimacies was that, grown up,
it was reckoned a sort of apostacy to marry out of one's company, and
indeed it did not often happen. The girls, from the example of their
mothers, rather than any compulsion, very early became notable and
industrious, being constantly employed in knitting stockings and making
clothes for the family and slaves; they even made all the boys'
clothes."[214]

Childhood in New England meant, as we have seen, a good deal of
down-right hard toil; in Virginia, for the better class child, it meant
much dressing in dainty clothes, and much care about manners and
etiquette; but the Dutch childhood and even young manhood and womanhood
meant an unusual amount of carefree, whole-hearted, simple pleasure.
There were picnics in the summer, nut gatherings in the Autumn, and
skating and sleighing in the winter.

"In spring eight or ten of one company, young men and maidens,
would set out together in a canoe on a kind of rural
excursion.... They went without attendants.... They arrived
generally by nine or ten o'clock.... The breakfast, a very
regular and cheerful one, occupied an hour or two; the young men
then set out to fish or perhaps to shoot birds, and the maidens
sat busily down to their work.... After the sultry hours had been
thus employed, the boys brought their tribute from the river....
After dinner they all set out together to gather wild
strawberries, or whatever fruit was in season; for it was
accounted a reproach to come home empty-handed...."

"The young parties, or some times the elder ones, who set out on
this woodland excursion had no fixed destination, ... when they
were tired of going on the ordinary road, they turned into the
bush, and wherever they saw an inhabited spot ... they went into
it with all the ease of intimacy.... The good people, not in the
least surprised at this intrusion, very calmly opened the
reserved apartments.... After sharing with each other their food,
dancing or any other amusement that struck their fancy succeeded.
They sauntered about the bounds in the evening, and returned by
moonlight...."

"In winter the river ... formed the principal road through the
country, and was the scene of all these amusements of skating and
sledge races common to the north of Europe. They used in great
parties to visit their friends at a distance, and having an
excellent and hearty breed of horses, flew from place to place
over the snow or ice in these sledges with incredible rapidity,
stopping a little while at every house they came to, where they
were always well received, whether acquainted with the owners or
not. The night never impeded these travellers, for the atmosphere
was so pure and serene, and the snow so reflected the moon and
starlight, that the nights exceeded the days in beauty."[215]

All this meant so much more for the growth of normal children and the
creation of a cheerful people than did the Puritan attendance at
executions and funerals. Those quaint old-time Dutch probably did not
love children any more dearly than did the New Englanders; but they
undoubtedly made more display of it than did the Puritans. "Orphans were
never neglected.... You never entered a house without meeting children.
Maidens, bachelors, and childless married people all adopted orphans,
and all treated them as if they were their own."[216]

Since we have mentioned such subjects as funerals and orphans, perhaps
it would not be out of place to notice the peculiar funeral customs
among the Dutch. Even a burial was not so dreary an affair with them.
The following bill of 1763, found among the Schuyler papers, gives a
hint of the manner in which the service was conducted, and perhaps
explains why the women scarcely ever attended the funeral in the "dead
room," as it was called, but remained in an upper room, where they could
at least hear what was said, if they could not "partake" of the
occasion.

"Tobacco                              2.
Fonda for Pipes                          14s.
2 casks wine 69 gal.                11.
12 yds. Cloath                        6.
2 barrels strong beer                3.
To spice from Dr. Stringer
To the porters                            2s.
12 yds. Bombazine                     5. 17s.
2 Tammise                            1.
1 Barcelona handkerchief                10s.
2 pr. black chamios Gloves
6 yds. crape
5 ells Black Shalloon

Paid Mr. Benson his fee for opinion on will L9."[217a]

Certainly the custom of making the funeral as pleasant as possible for
the visitors had not passed away even as late as the days of the
Revolution; for during that war Tench Tilghman wrote the following
description of a burial service attended by him in New York City: "This
morning I attended the funeral of old Mr. Doer.... This was something
in a stile new to me. The Corpse was carried to the Grave and interred
with out any funeral Ceremony, the Clergy attended. We then returned to
the home of the Deceased where we found many tables set out with
Bottles, cool Tankards, Candles, Pipes & Tobacco. The Company sat
themselves down and lighted their Pipes and handed the Bottles &
Tankards pretty briskly. Some of them I think rather too much so. I
fancy the undertakers had borrowed all the silver plate of the
neighborhood. Tankards and Candle Sticks were all silver plated."[217b]


_X. British Social Influences_

With the increase of the English population New York began to depart
from its normal, quiet round of social life, and entered into far more
flashy, but far less healthful forms of pleasure. There was wealth in
the old city before the British flocked to it, and withal an atmosphere
of plenty and peaceful enjoyment of life. The description of the
Schuyler residence, "The Flatts," presented in Grant's _Memoirs_,
probably indicates at its best the home life of the wealthier natives,
and gives hints of a wholesome existence which, while not showy, was
full of comfort:

"It was a large brick house of two, or rather three stories (for
there were excellent attics), besides a sunk story.... The lower
floor had two spacious rooms, ... on the first there were three
rooms, and in the upper one, four. Through the middle of the
house was a very wide passage, with opposite front and back
doors, which in summer admitted a stream of air peculiarly
grateful to the languid senses. It was furnished with chairs and
pictures like a summer parlor.... There was at the side a large
portico, with a few steps leading up to it, and floored like a
room; it was open at the sides and had seats all round. Above was
... a slight wooden roof, painted like an awning, or a covering
of lattice work, over which a transplanted wild vine spread its
luxuriant leaves...."

"At the back of the large house was a smaller and lower one, so
joined to it as to make the form of a cross. There one or two
lower and smaller rooms below, and the same number above,
afforded a refuge to the family during the rigors of winter, when
the spacious summer rooms would have been intolerably cold, and
the smoke of prodigious wood fires would have sullied the
elegantly clean furniture."[218]

But before 1760, as indicated above, the English element in New York was
making itself felt, and a curious mingling of gaiety and economy began
to be noticeable. William Smith, writing in his _History of the Province
of New York_, in 1757, points this out:

"In the city of New York, through our intercourse with the
Europeans, we follow the London fashions; though, by the time we
adopt them, they become disused in England. Our affluence during
the late war introduced a degree of luxury in tables, dress, and
furniture, with which we were before unacquainted. But still we
are not so gay a people as our neighbors in Boston and several of
the Southern colonies. The Dutch counties, in some measure,
follow the example of New York, but still retain many modes
peculiar to the Hollanders."

"New York is one of the most social places on the continent. The
men collect themselves into weekly evening clubs. The ladies in
winter are frequently entertained either at concerts of music or
assemblies, and make a very good appearance. They are comely and
dress well...."

"Tinctured with the Dutch education, they manage their families
with becoming parsimony, good providence, and singular neatness.
The practice of extravagant gaming, common to the fashionable
part of the fair sex in some places, is a vice with which my
country women cannot justly be charged. There is nothing they so
generally neglect as reading, and indeed all the arts for the
improvement of the mind--in which, I confess we have set them the
example. They are modest, temperate, and charitable, naturally
sprightly, sensible, and good-humored; and, by the helps of a
more elevated education, would possess all the accomplishments
desirable in the sex."

With the coming of the Revolution, and the consequent invasion of the
city by the British, New York became far more gay than ever before; but
even then the native Dutch conservativeness so restrained social affairs
that Philadelphia was more brilliant. When, however, the capital of the
national government was located in New York then indeed did the city
shine. Foreigners spoke with astonishment at the display of luxury and
down-right extravagance. Brissot de Warville, for example, writing in
1788, declared: "If there is a town on the American continent where
English luxury displays its follies, it is New York." And James
Pintard, after attending a New Year levee, given by Mrs. Washington,
wrote his sister: "You will see no such formal bows at the Court of St.
James." If we may judge by the dress of ladies attending such
gatherings, as one described in the _New York Gazette_ of May 15, 1789,
we may safely conclude that expense was not spared in the upper classes
of society. Hear some descriptions:

"A plain celestial blue satin with a white satin petticoat. On
the neck a very large Italian gauze handkerchief with white satin
stripes. The head-dress was a puff of gauze in the form of a
globe on a foundation of white satin, having a double wing in
large plaits, with a wreath of roses twined about it. The hair
was dressed with detached curls, four each side of the neck and a
floating _chignon_ behind."

"Another was a periot made of gray Indian taffetas with dark
stripes of the same color with two collars, one white, one yellow
with blue silk fringe, having a reverse trimmed in the same
manner. Under the periot was a yellow corset of cross blue
stripes. Around the bosom of the periot was a frill of white
vandyked gauze of the same form covered with black gauze which
hangs in streamers down her back. Her hair behind is a large
braid with a monstrous crooked comb."

We cannot say that the society of the new capital was notable for its
intellect or for the intellectual turn of its activities. John Adams'
daughter declared that it was "quite enough dissipated," and indeed
costly dress, card playing, and dancing seem to have received an undue
amount of society's attention. The Philadelphia belle, Miss Franks,
wrote home: "Here you enter a room with a formal set courtesy, and after
the 'How-dos' things are finished, all a dead calm until cards are
introduced when you see pleasure dancing in the eyes of all the matrons,
and they seem to gain new life; the maidens decline for the pleasure of
making love. Here it is always leap year. For my part I am used to
another style of behavior." And, continues Miss Franks: "They (the
Philadelphia girls) have more cleverness in the turn of the eye than
those of New York in their whole composition." But blunt, old Governor
Livingston, on the other hand, wrote his daughter Kitty that "the
Philadelphia flirts are equally famous for their want of modesty and
want of patriotism in their over-complacence to red coats, who would not
conquer the men of the country, but everywhere they have taken the women
almost without a trial--damm them."[219]

But there can be no doubt that the whirl of life was a little too giddy
in New York, during the last years of the eighteenth century; and that,
as a visiting Frenchman declared: "Luxury is already forming in this
city, a very dangerous class of men, namely, the bachelors, the
extravagance of the women makes them dread marriage."[220] As mentioned
above, there was much card playing among the women, and on the then
fashionable John Street married women sometimes lost as high as $400 in
a single evening of gambling. To some of the older men who had suffered
the hardships of war that the new nation might be born, such frivolity
and extravagance seemed almost a crime, and doubtless these veterans
would have agreed with Governor Livingston when he complained: "My
principal Secretary of State, who is one of my daughters, has gone to
New York to shake her heels at the balls and assemblies of a metropolis
which might be better employed, more studious of taxes than of
instituting expensive diversions."[221]


_XI. Causes of Display and Frivolity_

What else could be expected, for the time being at least? For, the war
over, the people naturally reacted from the dreary period of hardships
and suspense to a period of luxury and enjoyment. Moreover, here was a
new nation, and the citizens of the capital felt impelled to uphold the
dignity of the new commonwealth by some display of riches, brilliance,
and power. Then, too, the first President of the young nation was not
niggardly in dress or expenditure, and his contemporaries felt,
naturally enough, that they must meet him at least half way. Washington
apparently was a believer in dignified appearances, and there was
frequently a wealth of livery attending his coach. A story went the
round, no doubt in an exaggerated form, that shows perhaps too much
punctiliousness on the part of the Father of His Country:

"The night before the famous white chargers were to be used they were
covered with a white paste, swathed in body clothes, and put to sleep on
clean straw. In the morning this paste was rubbed in, and the horses
brushed until their coats shone. The hoofs were then blacked and
polished, the mouths washed, and their teeth picked. It is related that
after this grooming the master of the stables was accustomed to flick
over their coats a clean muslin handkerchief, and if this revealed a
speck of dust the stable man was punished."[222]

Perhaps Washington himself rather enjoyed the stateliness and a certain
aloofness in his position; but to Martha Washington, used to the freedom
of social mingling on the Virginia plantation, the conditions were
undoubtedly irksome. "I lead," she wrote, "a very dull life and know
nothing that passes in the town. I never go to any public place--indeed
I think I am more like a state prisoner than anything else, there is a
certain bound set for me which I must not depart from and as I cannot
doe as I like I am obstinate and stay home a great deal." To some of the
more democratic patriots all this dignity and formality and display were
rather disgusting, and some did not hesitate to express themselves in
rather sarcastic language about the customs. For instance, gruff old
Senator Maclay of Pennsylvania, who was not a lover of Washington
anyway, recorded in his _Journal_ his impressions of one of the
President's decidedly formal dinners:

"First was the soup; fish roasted and boiled; meats, gammon
(smoked ham), fowls, etc. This was the dinner. The middle of the
table was garnished in the usual tasty way, with small images,
artificial flowers, etc. The dessert was first apple-pies,
pudding, etc., then iced creams, jellies, etc., then
water-melons, musk-melons, apples, peaches, nuts.... The
President and Mrs. Washington sat opposite each other in the
middle of the table; the two secretaries, one at each end....

"It was the most solemn dinner ever I sat at. Not a health
drank, scarce a word said until the cloth was taken away. Then
the President, filling a glass of wine, with great formality
drank to the health of every individual by name around the table.
Everybody imitated him and changed glasses and such a buzz of
'health, sir,' and 'health, madam,' and 'thank you, sir,' and
'thank you, madam' never had I heard before.... The ladies sat a
good while and the bottles passed about; but there was a dead
silence almost. Mrs. Washington at last withdrew with the ladies.

"I expected the men would now begin but the same stillness
remained. He (the President) now and then said a sentence or two
on some common subject and what he said was not amiss. Mr. Jay
tried to make a laugh by mentioning the Duchess of Devonshire
leaving no stone unturned to carry Fox's election. There was a
Mr. Smith who mentioned how _Homer_ described AEneas leaving his
wife and carrying his father out of flaming Troy. He had heard
somebody (I suppose) witty on the occasion; but if he had ever
read it he would have said _Virgil_. The President kept a fork in
his hand, when the cloth was taken away, I thought for the
purpose of picking nuts. He ate no nuts, however, but played with
the fork, striking on the edge of the table with it. We did not
sit long after the ladies retired. The President rose, went
up-stairs to drink coffee; the company followed. I took my hat
and came home."

After all, it was well that our first President and his lady were
believers in a reasonable amount of formality and dignity. They
established a form of social etiquette and an insistence on certain
principles of high-bred procedure genuinely needed in a country the
tendency of which was toward a crude display of raw, hail-fellow-well-met
democracy. With an Andrew Jackson type of man as its first President,
our country would soon have been the laughing stock of nations, and
could never have gained that prestige which neither wealth nor power can
bring, but which is obtained only through evidences of genuine
civilization and culture. As Wharton says in her _Martha Washington_:
"An executive mansion presided over by a man and woman who combined with
the most ardent patriotism a dignity, elegance, and moderation that
would have graced the court of any Old World sovereign, saved the social
functions of the new nation from the crudeness and bald simplicity of
extreme republicanism, as well as from the luxury and excess that often
mark the sudden elevation to power and place of those who have spent
their early years in obscurity."[223]

Even after the removal of the capital from New York the city was still
the scene of unabated gaiety. Elizabeth Southgate, who became the wife
of Walter Bowne, mayor of the metropolis, left among her letters the
following bits of helpful description of the city pastimes and
fashionable life: "Last night we were at the play--'The Way to Get
Married.' Mr. Hodgkinson in _Tangen_ is inimitable. Mrs. Johnson, a
sweet, interesting actress, in _Julia_, and Jefferson, a great comic
player, were all that were particularly pleasing.... I have been to two
of the gardens: Columbia, near the Battery--a most romantic, beautiful
place--'tis enclosed in a circular form and little rooms and boxes all
around--with tables and chairs--these full of company.... They have a
fine orchestra, and have concerts here sometimes.... We went on to the
Battery--this is a large promonade by the shore of the North River--very
extensive; rows and clusters of trees in every part, and a large walk
along the shore, almost over the water.... Here too, they have music
playing on the water in boats of a moonlight night. Last night we went
to a garden a little out of town--Mount Vernon Garden. This, too, is
surrounded by boxes of the same kind, with a walk on top of them--you
can see the gardens all below--but 'tis a summer play-house--pit and
boxes, stage and all, but open on top."


_XII. Society in Philadelphia_

As has been indicated, New York was not the only center of brilliant
social activity in colonial America. Philadelphia laid claim to having
even more charming society and vastly more "exclusive" social functions,
and it is undoubtedly true that for some years before the war, and even
after New York became the capital, Philadelphia "set the social pace."
And, when the capital was removed to the Quaker City, there was indeed a
brilliance in society that would have compared not unfavorably with the
best in England during the same years. Unfortunately few magazine
articles or books picturing the life in the city at that time remain;
but from diaries, journals, and letters we may gain many a hint. Before
and during the Revolution there were at Philadelphia numerous wealthy
Tory families, who loved the lighter side of life, and when the town was
occupied by the British these pro-British citizens offered a welcome
both extended and expensive. As Wharton says in her _Through Colonial
Doorways_:

"The Quaker City had, at the pleasure of her conqueror, doffed her
sober drab and appeared in festal array.... The best that the city
afforded was at the disposal of the enemy, who seem to have spent their
days in feasting and merry-making, while Washington and his army endured
all the hardships of the severe winter of 1777-8 upon the bleak
hill-sides of Valley Forge. Dancing assemblies, theatrical
entertainments, and various gaieties marked the advent of the British in
Philadelphia, all of which formed a fitting prelude to the full-blown
glories of the Meschianza, which burst upon the admiring inhabitants on
that last-century May day."[224]

This, however, was not a sudden outburst of reckless joy on the part of
the Philadelphians; for long before the coming of Howe the wealthier
families had given social functions that delighted and astonished
foreign visitors. We are sure that as early as 1738 dancing was taught
by Theobald Hackett, who offered to instruct in "all sorts of
fashionable English and French dances, after the newest and politest
manner practiced in London, Dublin, and Paris, and to give to young
ladies, gentlemen, and children, the most graceful carriage in dancing
and genteel behaviour in company that can possibly be given by any
dancing master, whatever."

Before the middle of the eighteenth century balls, or "dancing
assemblies" had become popular in Philadelphia, and, being sanctioned by
no less authority than the Governor himself, were frequented by the best
families of the city. In a letter by an influential clergyman, Richard
Peters, we find this reference to such fashionable meetings: "By the
Governor's encouragement there has been a very handsome assembly once a
fortnight at Andrew Hamilton's house and stores, which are tenanted by
Mr. Inglis (and) make a set of rooms for such a purpose and consist of
eight ladies and as many gentlemen, one half appearing every Assembly
Night." There were a good many strict rules regulating the conduct of
these balls, among them being one that every meeting should begin
promptly at six and close at twelve. The method of obtaining admission
is indicated in the following notice from the _Pennsylvania Journal_ of
1771: "The Assembly will be opened this evening, and as the receiving
money at the door has been found extremely inconvenient, the managers
think it necessary to give the public notice that no person will be
admitted without a ticket from the directors which (through the
application of a subscriber) may be had of either of the managers."

As card-playing was one of the leading pastimes of the day, rooms were
set aside at these dancing assemblies for those who preferred "brag" and
other fashionable games with cards. But far the greater number preferred
to dance, and to those who did, the various figures and steps were
seemingly a rather serious matter, not to be looked upon as a source of
mere amusement. The Marquis de Chastellux has left us a description of
one of these assemblies attended by him during the Revolution, and, if
his words are true, such affairs called for rather concentrated
attention:

"A manager or master of ceremonies presides at these methodical
amusements; he presents to the gentlemen and ladies dancers billets
folded up containing each a number; thus, fate decided the male or
female partner for the whole evening. All the dances are previously
arranged and the dancers are called in their turns. These dances, like
the toasts we drink at table, have some relation to politics; one is
called the Success of the Campaign, another the Defeat of Burgoyne, and
a third Clinton's Retreat.... Colonel Mitchell was formerly the manager,
but when I saw him he had descended from the magistracy and danced like
a private citizen. He is said to have exercised his office with great
severity, and it is told of him that a young lady who was figuring in a
country dance, having forgotten her turn by conversing with a friend,
was thus addressed by him, 'Give over, miss, mind what you are about. Do
you think you come here for your pleasure?'"


_XIII. The Beauty of Philadelphia Women_

Any investigator of early American social life may depend on Abigail
Adams for spicy, keen observations and interesting information. Her
letters picture happily the activities of Philadelphia society during
the last decade of the eighteenth century. For instance, she writes in
1790: "On Friday last I went to the drawing room, being the first of my
appearance in public. The room became full before I left it, and the
circle very brilliant. How could it be otherwise when the dazzling Mrs.
Bingham and her beautiful sisters were there: the Misses Allen, and the
Misses Chew; in short a constellation of beauties? If I were to accept
one-half the invitations I receive I should spend a very dissipated
winter. Even Saturday evening is not excepted, and I refused an
invitation of that kind for this evening. I have been to one assembly.
The dancing was very good; the company the best; the President and
Madam, the Vice-President and Madam, Ministers of State and their
Madames, etc."

The mention of Mrs. Bingham leads us to some notice of her and her
environment, as an aid to our perception of the real culture and
brilliance found in the higher social circles of colonial Philadelphia
and New York. One of the most beautiful women of the day, Mrs. Bingham,
added to a good education, the advantage of much travel abroad, and a
lengthy visit at the Court of Louis XVI. Her beauty and elegance were
the talk of Paris, The Hague, and London, and Mrs. Adams' comment from
London voiced the general foreign sentiment about her: "She is coming
quite into fashion here, and is very much admired. The hair-dresser who
dresses us on court days inquired ... whether ... we knew the lady
so much talked of here from America--Mrs. Bingham. He had heard of
her ... and at last speaking of Miss Hamilton he said with a twirl of
his comb, 'Well, it does not signify, but the American ladies do beat
the English all to nothing.'"

An English traveller, Wansey, visited her in her Philadelphia home, and
wrote: "I dined this day with Mrs. Bingham.... I found a magnificent
house and gardens in the best English style, with elegant and even
superb furniture. The chairs of the drawing room were from Seddons in
London, of the newest taste--the backs in the form of a lyre with
festoons of crimson and yellow silk; the curtains of the room a festoon
of the same; the carpet one of Moore's most expensive patterns. The room
was papered in the French taste, after the the style of the Vatican at
Rome."

Such a woman was, of course, destined to be a social leader, and while
her popularity was at its height, she introduced many a foreign custom
or fad to the somewhat unsophisticated society of America. One of these
was that of having a servant announce repeatedly the name of the visitor
as he progressed from the outside door to the drawing room, and this in
itself caused considerable ridiculous comment and sometimes embarrassing
blunders on the part of Americans ignorant of foreign etiquette. One
man, hearing his name thus called a number of times while he was taking
off his overcoat, bawled out repeatedly, "Coming, coming," until at
length, his patience gone, he shouted, "Coming, just as soon as I can
get my great-coat off!"

The beauty and brilliance of Philadelphia were not without honor at
home, and this recognition of local talent caused some rather spiteful
comparisons to be made with the New York belles. Rebecca Franks, to whom
we have referred several times, declared: "Few New York ladies know how
to entertain company in their own houses, unless they introduce the card
table.... I don't know a woman or girl that can chat above half an hour
and that on the form of a cap, the color of a ribbon, or the set of a
hoop, stay, or gapun. I will do our ladies, that is in Philadelphia, the
justice to say they have more cleverness in the turn of an eye than the
New York girls have in their whole composition. With what ease have I
seen a Chew, a Penn, Oswald, Allen, and a thousand other entertain a
large circle of both sexes and the conversation, without aid of cards,
not flagg or seem in the least strained or stupid."


_XIV. Social Functions_

While the beauty of the Philadelphia women was notable--the Duke
Rochefoucauld-Liancourt declared that it was impossible to meet with
what is called a plain woman--the lavish use of wealth was no less
noticeable. The equipage, the drawing room, the very kitchens of some
homes were so extravagantly furnished that foreign visitors marvelled at
the display. Indeed, some spiteful people of the day declared that the
Bingham home was so gaudy and so filled with evidence of wealth that it
lacked a great deal of being comfortable. The trappings of the horses,
the furnishings of the family coaches, the livery of the footmen,
drivers, and attendants apparently were equal to those possessed by the
most aristocratic in London and Paris.

Probably one of the most brilliant social occasions was the annual
celebration of Washington's birthday, and while the first President was
in Philadelphia, he was, of course, always present at the ball, and made
no effort to conceal his pleasure and gratitude for this mark of esteem.
The entire day was given over to pomp and ceremony. According to a
description by Miss Chambers, "The morning of the 'twenty-second' was
ushered in by the discharge of heavy artillery. The whole city was in
commotion, making arrangements to demonstrate their attachment to our
beloved President. The Masonic, Cincinnati, and military orders united
in doing him honor." In describing the hall, she says: "The seats were
arranged like those of an amphitheatre, and cords were stretched on each
side of the room, about three feet from the floor, to preserve
sufficient space for the dances. We were not long seated when General
Washington entered and bowed to the ladies as he passed round the
room.... The dancing soon after commenced."[225]

There can be little doubt that Mrs. Washington enjoyed her stay in
Philadelphia far more than the period spent in New York. In Philadelphia
there was a very noticeable atmosphere of hospitality and easy
friendliness; here too were many Southern visitors and Southern customs;
for in those days of difficult travel Philadelphia seemed much nearer to
Virginia than did New York. Even with such a congenial environment
Martha Washington, with her innate domesticity, was constantly thinking
of life at Mount Vernon, and in the midst of festivities and assemblies
of genuine diplomatic import, would stop to write to her niece at home
such a thoroughly housewifely message as: "I do not know what keys you
have--it is highly necessary that the beds and bed clothes of all kinds
should be aired, if you have the keys I beg you will make Caroline put
all the things of every kind out to air and brush and clean all the
places and rooms that they were in."

But Mrs. Washington was not alone in Philadelphia in this domestic
tendency; many of those women who dazzled both Americans and foreigners
with their beauty and social graces were most careful housekeepers, and
even expert at weaving and sewing. Sarah Bache, for example, might
please at a ball, but the next morning might find her industriously
working at the spinning wheel. We find her writing her father, Ben
Franklin, in 1790: "If I was to mention to you the prices of the common
necessaries of life, it would astonish you. I should tell you that I
had seven tablecloths of my own spinning." Again, she shrewdly requests
her father in Paris to send her various articles of dress which are
entirely too expensive in America, but the old gentleman's answer seems
still more shrewd, especially when we remember what a delightful time he
was just then having with several sprightly French dames: "I was charmed
with the account you gave me of your industry, the tablecloths of your
own spinning, and so on; but the latter part of the paragraph that you
had sent for linen from France ... and you sending for ... lace and
feathers, disgusted me as much as if you had put salt into my
strawberries. The spinning, I see, is laid aside, and you are to be
dressed for the ball! You seem not to know, my dear daughter, that of
all the dear things in this world idleness is the dearest, except
mischief."

Her declaration in her letter that "there was never so much pleasure and
dressing going on" is corroborated by the statement of an officer
writing to General Wayne: "It is all gaiety, and from what I can
observe, every lady endeavors to outdo the other in splendor and
show.... The manner of entertaining in this place has likewise undergone
its change. You cannot conceive anything more elegant than the present
taste. You can hardly dine at a table but they present you with three
courses, and each of them in the most elegant manner."


_XV. Theatrical Performances_

The dinners and balls seem to have been expensive enough, but another
demand for expenditure, especially in items of dress, arose from the
constantly increasing popularity of the theatre. In Philadelphia the
first regular theatre season began in 1754, and from this time forth the
stage seems to have filled an important part in the activities of
society. We find that Washington attended such performances at the early
South Street Theatre, and was especially pleased with a comedy called
_The Young Quaker; or the Fair Philadelphian_ by O'Keefe, a sketch that
was followed by a pantomimic ballet, a musical piece called _The
Children in the Wood_, a recitation of Goldsmith's _Epilogue_ in the
character of Harlequin, and a "grand finale" by some adventuresome actor
who made a leap through a barrel of fire! Truly vaudeville began early
in America.

Mrs. Adams from staid old Massachusetts, where theatrical performances
were not received cordially for many a year, wrote from Philadelphia in
1791: "The managers of the theatre have been very polite to me and my
family. I have been to one play, and here again we have been treated
with much politeness. The actors came and informed us that a box was
prepared for us.... The house is equal to most of the theatres we meet
with out of France.... The actors did their best; the 'School for
Scandal' was the play. I missed the divine Farran, but upon the whole it
was very well performed."

The first theatrical performance given in New York is said to have been
acted in a barn by English officers and shocked beyond all measure the
honest Dutch citizens whose lives hitherto had gone along so peacefully