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Frederick Martin Townsend: The Bradley Martin Ball |
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The Bradley Martin Ball, which took place at the Waldorf
Hotel in New York City on the night of February 10, 1897, was described
in a newspaper as "the most splendid private entertainment ever given
in this country. " Eight hundred socialites spent about $400,000
imitating kings and queens. At a midnight champagne supper they dined
on twenty-eight courses--including "Sorbet Fin de Siecle."
The ball was both a triumph and a disaster. "It may not be surpassed in another hundred years," oozed one society reporter; "it was a gorgeous, superb, and wonderful spectacle." Yet a prominent Episcopalian rector warned that such an occasion in a time of depression and social tension was "ill advised." He was right. Newspapers condemned the Bradley Martins for their extravagance; clergymen preached sermons against them; college debating societies resolved their iniquity. And the New York Assessor doubled their taxes. The Bradley Martins permanently retreated to England after a final and characteristic gesture: a farewell dinner for eighty?six intimate friends which, the newspapers faithfully reported, cost $116.28 a plate. Every year my brother Bradley and his wife spent their winters in New York, when they entertained largely. One morning at breakfast my brother remarked-- "I think it would be a good thing if we got up something; there seems to be a great deal of depression in trade; suppose we send out invitations for a concert." "And pray, what good will that do?" asked my sister-in-law, "the money will only benefit foreigners. No, I've a far better idea; let us give a costume ball at so short notice that our guests won't have time to get their dresses from Paris. That will give an impetus to trade that nothing else will." Directly Mrs. Martin's plan became known, there was a regular storm of comment, which arose in the first instance from the remarks made by a clergyman who denounced the costume ball from the pulpit. "Yes," he raged, "you rich people put next to nothing in the collection plate, and yet you'll spend thousands of dollars on Mrs. Bradley Martin's ball." The newspapers then took up the subject, and we were besieged by reporters, but my brother and his wife invariably refused to discuss the matter. Threatening letters arrived by every post, debating societies discussed our extravagance, and last, but not least, we were burlesqued unmercifully on the stage. I was highly indignant about my sister-in-law being so cruelly attacked, seeing that her object in giving the ball was to stimulate trade, and, indeed, she was perfectly right, for, owing to the short notice, many New York shops sold out brocades and silks which had been lying in their stock-rooms for years. The ball was fixed for February 10, 1897, and a day or two before Mrs. Martin met Theodore Roosevelt in the street. "I'm very pleased that you and Mrs. Roosevelt are coming to the ball," she said. "Oh," he replied, "my wife's going because she's got her costume, but, as one of the commissioners, I shall be outside looking after the police!" I think every one anticipated a disturbance, but nothing of the kind took place, and the evening passed without any untoward incident. The best way I can describe what is always known as the "Bradley Martin Ball," is to say that it reproduced the splendour of Versailles in New York, and I doubt if even the Roi Soleil himself ever witnessed a more dazzling sight. The interior of the Waldorf?Astoria Hotel was transformed into a replica of Versailles, and rare tapestries, beautiful flowers and countless lights made an effective background for the wonderful gowns and their wearers. I do not think there has ever been a greater display of jewels before or since; in many cases the diamond buttons worn by the men represented thousands of dollars, and the value of the historic gems worn by the ladies baffles description. My sister-in-law personated Mary Stuart, and her gold embroidered gown was trimmed with pearls and precious stones. Bradley, as Louis XV, wore a Court suit of brocade, and I represented a gentleman of the period. The whole thing appealed most strongly to my imagination, and my mind constantly reverted to the friend of my childhood, the dear grandmother who would have been so keenly interested in it all. I remember that Mrs. James Beekman, as Lady Teazle, wore a lovely dress, which formerly belonged to an ancestress, and Mrs. Henry Burnet's satin petticoat was another family heirloom which left the scented seclusion of a cedar?wood chest for this interesting occasion. Anne Morgan lent a touch of barbaric colour with her wonderful Pochahontas costume which had been made by Indians, and the suit of gold inlaid armour worn by Mr. Belmont was valued at ten thousand dollars. The power of wealth with its refinement and vulgarity was everywhere. It gleamed from countless jewels, and it was proclaimed by the thousands of orchids and roses, whose fragrance that night was like incense burnt on the altar of the Golden Calf. I cannot conceive why this entertainment should have been condemned. We Americans are so accustomed to display that I should have thought the ball would not have been regarded as anything very unusual. Every one said it was the most brilliant function of the kind ever seen in America, and it certainly was the most talked about. After the ball the authorities promptly raised my brother's taxes quite out of proportion to those paid by any one else, and the matter was only settled after a very acrimonious dispute. Bradley and his wife resented intensely the annoyance to which they had been subjected, and they decided to sell their house in New York and buy a residence in London. Four years previously their only daughter, Comelia, had married Lord
Craven, and my brother felt that the family affections were now implanted
in the Old World. His grandson, who was born in the year of the famous
ball, was such a source of pride to us all that I believe the advent
of the boy finally decided the Bradley Martins about leaving New York.
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