# A Hairdresser's Experience in High Life/Chapter 4

CHAPTER III.
AMERICA.
It seemed to me that I was destined always to arrive at places upon confused and excited occasions. The Colt hanging was the order of the day upon my arrival in New York, and the whole populace was in the streets; but a few moments before the scene was to have come off, his prison was discovered to be on fire, and when it was extinguished, a body was found in Colt's apartment, stuck through with a knife; but there were many doubts as to whether it was the body of Colt or not; all was clothed in mystery then, and probably always will be, about the affair. It is more than likely that Colt, the murderer, now walks the earth, and eats, drinks and enjoys himself in some remote corner of it, like other people; for he had wealthy relatives, and wealth will unloose prison bars and untie the knot even upon the very scaffold which is to launch the foulest wretch to his merited doom.
But I had no wealth, and what was I to do without it in New York? I took passage on a freight boat bound for Albany, where I staid until I had accumulated enough funds to start out again to the West, where I had friends who would take care of me. And so I got on in the world by a little energy and perseverance.
The first person I met in Cincinnati was my beloved ​friend, who treated me so badly in Paris. "Why, how do you do, Iangy?" he said, as I was passing his door, on my way to my lodgings. "Not dead yet, I thank you, sir!" was my reply, as I passed on, which was rather unbecoming in me, I must confess; for I had recently had serious thoughts of becoming a Christian, and with this intention had no right to harbor resentment, even toward my bitterest enemy.
All welcomed me kindly. My first patrons, the L—s, made me happy by their hospitable treatment, and their grandson, who had been my first little responsibility, had grown to be such a princely-looking little fellow that the royalty of England might have been proud to claim him for their own. I went every day to see my little King of the Butterflies, as I used to call him, and in so doing I was obliged always to pass the door of my little Versailles responsibility, who, with her gentle mother, were always dearly beloved objects to me. I grieved because I could not see them, every time I went to see my King of the Butterflies; but I only saw the little creature once when she cried after me as I passed the door, and I stopped and kissed her—for which she received a tumbler of water in her face, thrown by the interesting valet who lived with my gentleman in Paris.
After staying eight or ten days in Cincinnati, I heard of a gentleman going South, and as I always had an inclination to travel, and was particularly desirous of seeing the sunny South, I engaged with him and started for Memphis, having in my charge a little boy and girl. I was with them but a short time till they were quite attached to me, and I to them.
After a few days we reached Memphis, and went to ​visit Dr. O., an uncle of the lady, who was very wealthy, and lived in style. A little to my surprise, I was treated very kindly; the whole household, old ladies, young ladies, gentlemen, and even the children and servants all treated me as kindly as if I had lived among them for years.
Dr. O. had a great many slaves, and was very kind to them. Many of these slaves worked on a farm, and every Saturday night on their coming in he would give them something, if only a quarter, as an encouragement to work, and they seemed to work through love and not through fear. They were very bright and intelligent, notwithstanding they came from North Carolina, where it is generally known that the poor whites and oppressed slaves are proverbially ignorant; so much so, that an old white woman, once, at a great meeting, when the preacher was trying to impress on the minds of his congregation their duty to God, and what he had done for them, and ended by saying, Christ died for them,—started up and said, "Why, brother, is Christ dead; when did he die?" Dr. O.'s servants, however, were not of this character; they were all very intelligent, and I was quite astonished at the amount of general information displayed by many of them. But although the servants in this family were well treated and happy, in the neighborhood were masters of a very different character from that of the kind Dr. Often very early in the morning I went out walking with Dr. O.'s daughter. During one of these walks, while passing near the residence of a gentlemen in the neighborhood, our attention was attracted by screams and groans; stopping, we peeped through the fence, and discovered ​a woman tied to a tree, being severely whipped by a person much younger than herself. This aroused me, and I determined to find out what offense she had given. It so happened, in a day or two one of this neighbor's servants came over on an errand to the doctor's. I asked her why this woman had been whipped; she told me she had failed to perform her duties before going out to work. I asked her what were her duties; she said she had the marketing and washing to do from four o'clock till it was time to go to work; sometimes she failed, and then she was whipped; again, at times, she would be so tired she would hardly be able to do her day's work after working so long in the morning; but the money she must bring home with her, come from where it might. During my stay in Memphis, I witnessed many such cases, some even worse than this.
The time had now come when my lady and gentleman were to go to Alabama; they expected me to go along, but by the advice of the uncle I did not go. Both the lady and gentleman treated me well, yet they were disappointed—I did not go with them.
Having heard a great deal of New Orleans, I wanted to go there, and to judge for myself of its perfections and imperfections; so I went on board the steamer Champion. When she landed at New Orleans, I staid on board, and did not go off but once in a while to look around me. In a few days the boat was bound upward for Cincinnati.
There was a great crowd of passengers, among the rest, a Colonel C., with a large family, from Steubenville, Ohio. On my way up I engaged myself with Mrs. C. as nurse; went to Steubenville and staid ​there some ten months. I liked the family very much, but again the old desire for traveling came over me, and I started for Cincinnati, and there engaged with a private family. Having been so long away from Cincinnati, the climate did not agree with me, and I was taken sick, when the doctor ordered me South. I started again from Cincinnati to Louisville on the old Ben Franklin, which was said to go so fast, gentlemen had to tie their hats on, and the ladies pin their bonnets to their heads. However, she landed me safe in Louisville, where I took passage on the Great Western for New Orleans.
There was a tremendous crowd going down; among them there were a Mr. and Mrs. A. The lady had been accustomed to have her hair dressed while South, but on her going East she could not get it done. While on board, I dressed her hair for her all the way down. She asked me why I did not go South and dress hair. I told her I feared there were too many hair-dressers there, and I might not be able to dress hair as well as they did, though I had learned the art in Paris. She said there was no one there could dress hair any better than I could, which was very encouraging to me. She was going to the St. Charles, and I went with her; she allowed me so much a month, and to make what I could when she did not need me. I made that season two hundred dollars. Having been so long without money, I fancied myself rich. I staid in New Orleans till late in the season, and then went to Drennon's Lick, a watering-place in Kentucky, which at that time was attended by all the fashionables of Cincinnati, Louisville, Lexington, Ky., and Madison, Ind. We had a ​great many belles there from Cincinnati, Louisville and Madison. I now had an opportunity to display my talent in hair-dressing; combing a young bride who, in a freak of passion, cut off her hair to vex her husband, when she was dressed many ladies could not believe her hair was cut off; she was food for the envious; they all envied her beauty and the position she held while in her father's house, but after her elopement she lost caste. She was at this time alone with her husband, and from some cause they seemed to be in a continual excitement. There was at this time a great fancy ball; she went, dressed very simply as a little flower-girl, and looking very sweet and pretty; her husband came into the ball-room and wanted to take her out; she would not go, and they had quite a fuss. Some gentlemen there asked him out, and threatened him with what they would do, if he did not behave himself. She soon after left the ball-room, and going into the cottage of an acquaintance, she begged the protection of the lady and gentleman till her mother and father could be written to. They were on East with her elder sister, who was a great belle. It was a great mortification to them to find in adjoining columns of the same newspaper the success of the one sister as a belle, her beauty and accomplishments, and the whole scenes at Drennon's Lick, and the other sister's adverse fortune. Her mother and father returned as soon as possible, and set to work to get a divorce. Some few months passed over; all things went on bright and brilliant; the daughter seemed as happy as possible under her father's roof; but, unknown to them, she was receiving messages from her husband. A few days before the divorce was to be granted, the ​elder sister gave a polka party, and while the guests were dancing and enjoying themselves in the front of the house, the sister slipped out of the back door and joined her husband again. Her father and mother were though disappointed and displeased, without the power of doing anything. This was not the last of their separations. Every once and a while they seperate, and live apart a short time. Nevertheless, the lady has raised a pretty little family, and is herself one of the handsomest women in Kentucky.
Another of the notables at Drennon was a famous married belle, whose delight it was to fascinate all men, married or single. There was also there a gentleman from the South, with his wife, a mild, delicate, lady-like person. This belle took a great fancy to the Southerner, and flirted with him on all occasions, greatly to the displeasure of his wife. They used to walk about in the evenings, and sit till late at night, even under the very window where his wife was waiting for him. One night, about one o'clock, she was sitting up in the room waiting for her husband, when she heard this belle say to him: "Let us sit till three, and see if she will wait up for you." Was not this trying to a delicate wife's feelings? The next season the belle was back again, but the gentleman and his family did not make their appearance.
We will for the present leave this lady, and give you a little sketch of a married belle from Georgia. This lady's husband was a man of high standing, and very wealthy, but in very poor health. They went to Drennon's Lick for his health, and to have quiet; but the lady entered into all the gayeties of that gay place. She would leave her husband coughing and bleeding ​at the lungs, her children fretting and crying, dress herself, and go down to the ball-room, where she would stay, it may be, till one or two o'clock at night. She returned home with him, but before the end of the season death came and rid her of him. The next I saw of her she was in a hotel in New York, reclining on a sofa, elegantly attired, covered with diamonds, and everything about her exquisite. Ostensibly she was under the care of a physician, but I learned the physician was but a cloak to cover her long stay from her second husband; and occasionally a gentleman from New Orleans came to see her, making business in New York the excuse to his wife and family for his absence. The last time he visited her, on his return home he found his wife had taken laudanum and destroyed herself. Full five hundred such scenes have come under my notice since I've been a hair-dresser.
During that season there were many exciting scenes at Drennon. A number of young men took to robbing, and got taken up. The evidence was clear, and they tried to get one of the young men to tell where the money and valuables were concealed. To make him confess, they put his hand in a vise. His screams were dreadful, but nobody minded him. This young fellow had made his haul, buried his share of the plunder, and was coming back after more when taken up. They were far from any city or officer, and as he would not confess, they had to let him free. He was watched by some of the party, seen to go after his plunder, get it and leave.
The season closed at Drennon with a grand fancy ball, after which the visitors left for their homes.
​Fall, winter and spring passed, but during this time nothing occurred to me worthy of narration. Early in the summer, hearing that great preparations were making at Drennon, I concluded to again spend the season there. On arriving, I found that a large number of visitors were expected. Gambling rooms, billiard saloons and ten-pin alleys were fitted up, and every arrangement made that could add to the amusement and excitement of the pleasure-seekers at a watering-place.
The principal building was very large, and adjoining on either side was a row of smaller buildings, with family rooms; then around were numerous little cottages, where families from Cincinnati, Madison, Louisville, Lexington, and a great many Southerners were accommodated. At the foot of the hill were cottages without number, called Texas, where the servants and commoner class of people resided. Before the hight of the season came on, the great monster, Cholera, made his appearance. It was on the 3d of July, and all the gentlemen had gone to Cincinnati, or other neighboring places, to celebrate the Fourth, leaving their families behind. Those that remained had fire-works, and various other out-door amusements, to amuse themselves and gratify the villagers around. In the evening was a grand ball. I looked on and saw them dance till about ten o'clock, when I retired to my room, as I did not feel well, having drank considerable of the sulphur-water during the day. A little after twelve the ball broke up. Just then the carpenter was taken very ill. They said it was from eating cherry pie and drinking milk, but during the night the proprietor and his family had all a slight attack ​but, for fear of frightening the boarders, it was kept quiet. I roomed in the same cottage, and heard a great stir during the night, but did not think anything of it. At five o'clock I was awoke by the chambermaid, who told me a man named Allen, from Cincinnati, was dead. I dressed myself as quickly as possible, and went down to Texas, where I found the man dead indeed, of cholera in its severest form. A moment after word was brought of another death, and yet another, and another. There were five deaths in all during the first twelve hours.
I felt a great deal alarmed, and went to see a lady from Cincinnati, who was there with her mother, Mrs. D., and Mrs. Judge M. They advised me to stay, and said it was dangerous to fly from disease. While we were in conversation, a chamber-maid came running to me and told me the other chamber-maid, whom I had just left about five minutes before, was ill with cholera. I at once went to her assistance.
On entering the room I found her all cramped, and black around the eyes and mouth. I was terribly frightened, but determined to do what I could for her, so I gave her a large dose of laudanum and brandy, put a large plaster of mustard to her chest, feet and hands, and staid with her till I got her into a perspiration; then I left her, went into my own room, and got everything I had ready to put in my trunks. During the short time I was out from her room an old doctor, who was good for nothing but attending on babies, went in and gave her something which acted on her as an emetic. Knowing there was no physician near, and finding the book-keeper and this old man were trying the most desperate experiments, I ​became so alarmed I went out and inquired what time the stage started. It left at two o'clock, and it was then half-past one, so I crammed in my trunks what I could easily, and gave the rest away, and was ready by the time the stage came along.
Some of the ladies that I had worked for came to the gallery and said: "Good bye, Iangy; go in peace, and sin no more." My reply was: "I wish some of you would go with me, as I fear when you get ready to go you will not be able."
There were many servants and poor people around to say good-bye to me. Many wished it was in their power to leave, but it was not. Some of them I never saw again, as very many were carried off by that desolating scourge. There were fourteen in the stage that left Drennon that morning; out of this number but five lived. When we got to the foot of the hill where we took the steamboat, which was two miles from the house, we were fortunate that got on board, as the steamboat only came every other day. Those who came off the boat to seek their friends took sick and died.
Being afraid to go to Cincinnati, as the cholera was very bad there, I went to Madison. One of the wealthiest families in that place took me to their house and gave me one of their best spare rooms, where I was very sick for several days. After I recovered I learned some of the horrors of Drennon. As I before told you, the cholera broke out about twelve o'clock on Thursday night, and I left at two o'clock on Friday. From twelve on Thursday till twelve on Friday there were twenty-three deaths. Some of those ladies who bade me go in peace and sin no more, were stricken ​down, and had no time to leave. In their sore sickness they had no help, no aid, no physician, and their eyes were closed in death; without help of any kind they entered that bourne from whence no traveler ever returns. In their agony and helplessness many of those who had laudanum and morphine took it, and slept themselves away.
I learned, by those who were there helping to nurse the sick, that it was one of the gloomiest nights ever witnessed on earth. They had few lights, and even those seemed to glimmer away; it appeared as if they could not burn brightly amid so much misery, where nothing was heard but groans and sighs of agony. Bells were rung, but there was no one to answer them. The sick had to take care of the sick, and the dying to bury the dead.
The proprietor and his family fled, taking with them all the medicines, leaving nothing, nor even letting the boarders know they were going. As I before said, many ladies were there whose husbands were gone, and many who had some member of their family sick, and could not leave them.
One circumstance occurred, the remembrance of which is horrible to me. To this day I shudder to think of it. A lady was left at Drennon by her husband, who had gone to Lexington to buy some land, she got so frightened she left in the care of a gentleman and went to Louisville. Her husband came for her, and, not finding her at Drennon's, he went on to Louisville. On his going up the hotel stairs, he met persons bearing down a corpse. His horror and despair on finding it was his wife's remains they were bearing, may be imagined, but can not be described. ​The hearse was in waiting, and, under the circumstances, he could not even get one look at her he loved so well, and had left so short a time before in the enjoyment of good health and spirits; to find her on his return shrouded and coffined, ready for bearing to her last resting-place, was almost too much for human reason to bear.
There were full forty or fifty deaths occurred in that little place, and only the notice of about a dozen was given. There was neither physician nor coffin within fifteen miles. They had to put up a kind of box, and into that put their dead. The scenes there were heartrending. All around were the sick, and nobody to attend them. Many happy families came there that season with numerous members, and but one or two, it may be, were left. Many husbands and their wives came there from the toil and heat of the city, to spend the summer in quietness and peace; one was taken and the other left; or, in some cases, both were stricken down, and both were carried by strangers and laid in a stranger's grave. All this occurred within a short distance of four of our most populous cities. After this it was found impossible to make a watering-place of Drennon's and they turned it into a military school.