# A Hairdresser's Experience in High Life/Chapter 10

CHAPTER VII.
cincinnati.
It is now some fifteen or sixteen years since I learned the art of hair-dressing. During most of that time I was East and South, dressing hair, as the Cincinnati ladies were not French enough to employ a hair-dresser at that time; but in these latter days some of our ladies go to France in the summer, and New Orleans in the winter—so, by that means, they do not lose sight of the French fashions.
About two years ago, two ladies, in Cincinnati, thought I should have work enough to keep me at home; so they each employed me a month to dress their hair. They being ladies of very high standing, many thought to follow their lead. They were Miss L——— and Mrs. S———. From that time to the present, I have never known what it was to be three hours out of employment. I am to this day working for those two ladies. Although several years have passed, never knew how to thank them for their kindness to me. To them am I indebted for my present position.
Hair-dressing is generally very trying; but I have always had the good luck, with a few exceptions, to work for the higher classes. At another time I will tell you who and what they were. It has always been my privilege to comb the brides, belles and beautiful ladies, both residents and visitors, of Cincinnati.
​I have worked for several years from eight in the morning till six in the evening, and, on ball-nights, as late as eleven, and given satisfaction to all my ladies, with the exception of a few meddlesome persons, who were jealous because some one else looked better than they did; for I find in these days people are more troubled about their looks than they were when I commenced hair-dressing.
There are in Cincinnati, at this time, four distinct circles of fashionables; first, is the real old aristocracy; second, the monied aristocracy; third, the church aristocracy, and fourth, the school aristocracy. You may wish to know what I mean by the school aristocracy. I mean those girls whose parents send them to such or such a school because Miss So-and-So goes there; so that, by these means, they may have an entree into the higher circles. It is much easier to get into the higher circles now than when I first became a hair-dresser. All that is necessary now, is to go to the Burnet House, stay-there awhile, visit from one room to another, till you find out which of the ladies visit such and such families out in town; then cultivate their acquaintance.
There are two fashionable dress-makers in Cincinnati at present, where almost all the fashionables can be met with. They go there more to display their elegance, and to see those who are a step or two higher than themselves, than to have their dresses made. I know a number of ladies who keep private dress-makers and plain seamstresses in their own. houses; but once in awhile they take a dress to these dress-makers, so as to keep up theiracquaintance.
There is a lady in Cincinnati who makes herself ​notorious for visiting milliners, dress-makers, confectioners, and, in fact, every place where there is anything to be bought or sold; she is even at funerals. I will give here name as Mrs. Envy; because she is envious of every one from the leaders of fashion down to the tradesman. She is very accomplished, as there is scarcely anything she can not do; and she makes herself generally useful. If there is a house to be furnished, she is there; if, as the English say, there is a house warming, she is there. (I mean, by a house warming, a large party given on first occupying the house.) If they are young housekeepers, she is ready with her advice in all cases; but if they are old ones, she will drop a hint or two; if they are not noticed, she will pass on. They are too polite to say no, as she belongs to the upper tens. I will now leave Mrs. Envy, and speak of more agreeable associations.
Since the time I mentioned as having settled down in Cincinnati, I have dressed one hundred and fifty brides; twenty-five of these were in Louisville, Ky., and some seven or eight in Covington and Newport, just across the river from Cincinnati. As near as I could learn, they are all doing well, save ten; six of the ten are dead—the other four are separated from their husbands. One of them left her husband, and was actually married to him again; though I did not have the honor of dressing her hair the second time. One of the deceased was a lovely, character; she was, indeed, a most amiable person. If I went to comb her, and felt tired, it seemed to rest me to be with her; if I was hungry, in her presence hunger left me; was I angry or worried, as I occasionally was with ladies, on my coming in to her all my annoyance vanished, ​and my good temper returned. I have often thought, while combing her, is it possible so amiable a person can live long in this world. Whenever and wherever I saw her, she was still the same—pleasant, agreeable and kind to every one around her. I have known her to be out in rain and storm, carrying food to the sick or poor, when other ladies would hardly venture forth, unless to a ball or party. She was the only daughter of a widow; she was not only a child, but a companion. Poor Mrs. S———! she has never been forgotten by her family or friends. She was married in the middle season—for we had in Cincinnati, three distinct seasons for marrying in a certain set. The season before she was married there were several weddings among the old aristocracy; this beloved one attended them all till her own season come. She must have been lovely, when Frederica Bremer glanced at her and pronounced her even more lovely than her own Swedish ladies; which was a great deal for a foreigner to say, for the foreigners are not generally so charitable as our own American ladies. I always found her pleasant on going to her house; she was quite different from some others with whom, when they saw me, the first thing would be, "what is the news, did you not hear anything?" till I began to see there was something, and would set myself to find it out. Perhaps it might be something about a dear friend, when, of course, I would defend them manfully. They would then get alarmed and the first thing they would do, would be to go to this friend and say, I heard such and so; when asked for the name of their informant, the answer was, "my hair-dresser;" by that means there ​was a constant broil kept up. These are daily occurrences in high life.
I will now tell you how a lady got into a scrape trying to get out of one, I will name her Tulip. I worked for her three or four years ago, but having very many older patrons, I gave her to one of my pupils; the latter gave entire satisfaction arid Tulip seemed perfectly satisfied with her, which in no way surprised me, for, although my pupil, I considered her equal to or better than myself. Tulip was always smiling and had something sweet to say.
A few months passed, the summer season came and I prepared myself for Saratoga. I left also my Camelia in charge of my pupils—I call her Camelia on account of her beauty, gentleness and amiability. My pupil went one day to comb Tulip and proposed to her to get a twist for her hair, as she thought it would be a great improvement. Tulip said no fashionable people wore them: the hair-dresser curtesied and begged to be excused for saying that Miss Camelia had one, though she had no need of it, but that it certainly would be an improvement to her. Tulip was perfectly delighted to have something to say of Camelia; the latter having many beaux, she thought to acquaint one of these admirers in a quiet way, that Camelia wore a twist, when she did not—she had one, but made no use of it, as Camelia never wore anything or said anything that she feared any person to know.
Tulip went to an aunt of one of Camelia's admirers and told her, thinking she, like other ladies, might tell the gentleman; but this aunt being a lady, in the true sense of the word, neither receiving gossip or talking herself, she replied to this, "well, my dear, ​Camelia has a perfect right to dress as she pleases and make her toilet to suit herself, and so have all other ladies, without any person interfering with them."
Nothing more was said till I came home and resumed my duties, when one day on combing this aunt, she said to me, "Iangy, in whose care did you leave Camelia when you were gone." I told her in my pupils. She said, "you should tell her not to tell one lady what she purchased for another or what any other lady wears." I told her I did.
On my going home I asked my pupil what the lady meant by the remark, who at once said she had never told any one but Tulip, and she told me how it came she mentioned it. My pupil, on combing Tulip, attacked her on the subject, when she, getting alarmed, got the first lady she told it to, and both went to Camelia and told her. Camelia was too much of a lady to say anything to me, as I had a right to speak to my pupil, and did not say any harm. Tulip, finding things did not turn out as she wished them, sent round to everybody she could, even to my best friends, and tried to do me harm, for no cause on earth, for she herself was the transgressor. This went on for two years, and I did not know anything of it. I knew I had enemies, and I knew there must be something the matter, as some ladies treated me very differently from their usual way, but as I had not done anything to offend them, I did not care, nor did I inquire the reason. To these ladies who were my friends, she would not say anything very spiteful against me. There were some ladies who had recently joined the church, and they thought it the duty of all church members to espouse each other's cause and fight each ​other's battles. They put their heads together and thought to put me down, not thinking I would ever hear it, and forgetting I had been here for a number of years, and had a position, and knew them when they had none. At length, a lady sent for me, whose position or word could not be doubted, and told me what was going on; when, at once, I went to Tulip and asked her why she acted such a part, or what I had done to deserve it; she said I had tried to make mischief with her; I wanted to know how, and I then found out it was about the twist two years ago, and even then she was the transgressor and not myself. I told her then what I thought of her, how she acted the hypocrite on all occasions, being so sweet to my face, while she was secretly doing all in her power to injure me. I said to her I was sorry to see young church members act such a part as to try to tear a fellow woman's character to pieces without any cause, and I felt sorry for the minister who was to take charge of that church the next month; and if he knew the kind of people some of his congregation were, he would tremble at the charge. I then told her if I said or did anything that was wrong, she might send her father or brother after me. I don't know what she thought, but as I never heard from either father or brother, I suppose she thought over the matter, and remembered the time when she received the emblems of the blessed Redeemer, and took her vows.
Often have I labored under such animadversions and expect to till I die; but one thing I am assured of, I can defy any individual, North, South, East or West, to say I ever did or said anything but was ladylike or courteous. Ladies are in the habit of saying a great ​many things, not only to the hair-dressers, but to others, which would be a great deal better unsaid. When these things come to be talked about they forget saying them to any one but the hair-dresser. Even at parties, ladies will be envious of one another, and will talk about each other, and pick one another to pieces; then they pack all they can on the hair-dresser's shoulders. Truly, the hair-dresser has a good deal to contend with.
I will now tell you how parties are conducted in France and England. Though I was not an invited guest, I had innumerable opportunities of observing how they were conducted. The whole eighteen months I spent in Paris I never heard of a young gentleman taking a young lady to a ball or party, they are chaperoned by mothers, aunts, governesses or some other female relative.
On entering the house there is a little side room where the ladies hand their wrappings to a servant, who takes them in charge; there are not two or three rooms thrown open as is the case here. The English and Parisienne ladies are expected to dress at home. On entering the room, after finding their way to the hostess and passing the compliments of the evening, they endeavor to make themselves agreeable to the company in general. They well know that a lady would ask none but ladies and gentlemen to her house, and consequently the company, feeling perfectly at ease with each other, dance, laugh, talk and make themselves generally agreeable, and when supper is announced, they go in small parties at a time, and not as our ladies and gentlemen generally do, rush en masse. European ladies go to parties more for the ​sake of meeting friends and passing an agreeable evening, than for the sake of what they eat; but I have known our ladies refuse to eat either dinner or supper, so that they might be able to eat the more at night, or as many of them express it, that they might stuff themselves; and often when I have been so tired I could scarcely stand, and perhaps tasted nothing for twelve hours, and would complain of being hungry or tired, they would say to me, never mind, you will be there to-night, stuff yourself. I would only smile, but often wished I could teach them a lesson of refinement. Yes, I have seen our ladies and gentlemen standing round the door of the supper room before supper was announced, and actually I have heard the waiter beg for room to carry in the jellies, ice creams, and so forth. When the door opened there was a general rush, as though there was a fire in some part of the house from which they were endeavoring to escape, and all would be confusion to know who should seize the bouquets and anything else the table might be ornamented with, and as for bonbons, the first table or those who were first at the table, got them all. I have known ladies take home as much as three or four dollars' worth at a time. I know, however, many who are exceptions to this rule, who go to parties, enjoy themselves very much and leave before the supper is announced.
The refreshments that are provided in this country for two hundred people, would be sufficient for a thousand in Europe, for the ladies do not touch any of the ornaments of the table, and as for taking away anything from the table, no lady would so far lower herself as to take the most trifling thing; but I have ​known ladies here, particularly in Cincinnati, take two or three sets of handkerchiefs, and not only carry away cakes and candy, but actually game. I have known them to do worse than even that.
Some time ago, there was a party given by a lady in this city; among the ladies who were very elegantly dressed that evening, was one in particular, who wore a very rich opera cloak, trimmed with ermine, a hood to match, also, an elegant handkerchief; these she put away, all rolled in a bundle. I observed a lady in the dressing room very busy examining the wrappings, but did not suppose she had any evil intentions. Early in the evening the lady and several others disappeared, taking with them others' wrappings, and were not charitable enough to send them back, thinking the blame would be attached to the servants.
Some time ago there was a large party given to some eastern ladies. The lady in whose house they were stopping, after having performed her own toilet, left on the table some articles of valuable jewelry. When the guests had dispersed, the jewelry, too, had disappeared. Such occurrences are very frequent of late years.
The following circumstance occurred in one of our most fashionable jewelry establishments. Two ladies went into the store, and requested to be shown some diamond rings; amongst others, they were shown a very valuable one, which a gentleman had been on the eve of purchasing the day before. Not being quite decided on making the purchase, they promised to call again.
The person who attended them, put away the boxes without looking whether the ring was there or not; during the course of the day, the gentleman, who had ​taken a particular fancy to the ring, the day before, called in to get it; on opening the box it was found to be empty. Knowing he had shown the ring to no one but these two ladies, the jeweler caused an advertisement to be inserted in the papers requesting the lady who had been looking at the rings the day before, and had, by mistake, left one on her finger, to return it. The same day one of the ladies came to the jeweler's, acknowledged she had been there with her friend, and, since then, had seen the ring on her friend's finger, who told her her husband had purchased it for her.
The jeweler immediately made arrangements to go with the lady to her friend's house. On their arrival at her house, they sent word that a lady and gentleman were in the parlor, who wished to see her. She soon made her appearance, with the ring on her finger. The jeweler made known his errand, and she surrendered the ring, offering the jeweler, at the same time, any compensation if he would hush the matter up, so that it might not reach her husband's ears. The jeweler was so delighted at having regained possession of his property, that he complied with her wishes, more especially as they were both the wives of wealthy merchants. He was more fortunate than the Misses B., who, at one of their great openings, lost a lace mantle, valued at two hundred dollars, which they never recovered.
I could enumerate many instances of such things, committed by ladies in high life, whom I have known. One lady went to a store, and took away with her laces and ribbons of the value of thirty dollars, thinking herself unobserved—but she had been noticed. Finding she did not return to settle the account, the ​bill was made out and presented to her husband; at first she denied all knowledge of the matter, but on the clerk coming forward and declaring he had seen her take the things, she was very glad to acknowledge the debt, and get off with that.
Among other scenes in high life, I will give you a few from the Burnet House, where you will find all ranks and denominations, doctors, lawyers and merchants, and, if you please, not wholesale merchants either.
After toiling through the city from eight until twelve, I started for the Burnet House, where I had seven or eight customers. Being a little behind time, I met a lady's maid who said: "Iangy, I would not for two month's wages you had not come just at this time. I have often told you that several of the ladies in the house did not like you, and yon always insisted I was mistaken; come with me, the little room that leads to the parlor is open, and you will hear all they say."
Not believing what she told me, as I had always found these ladies warm friends, I went with her to the little room, and having taken a seat near to the door opening into the parlor, found I could easily hear all they said. One of the ladies defended me; the others said I was pert and proud, and knew too much, that I put on too many airs, besides many other things. Mrs. S. who had defended me, after they had talked of me in this manner for some time, interrupted their conversation, saying:
"Come, let us talk about something else, for I expect her every moment. How did you like the spiritual rappers last night?" Mrs. ——— liked them very ​well. "But," said she, "I can, not tell whether they are humbugs or not; I think they do and say some things that are very strange: speaking of them, makes me think of some more of Iangy's impudence. Did you hear what a going over she gave these spiritual rappers the other day?"
Mrs. S. replied "I did. Do yon know the cause of her giving them such a lecture? My husband said she did right, and if he says it is right, it is so. These spiritual rappers got some ladies in their room, and frightening them, made them tell some little things they would not otherwise have told, and then they told these things again. Iangy heard it, and she gave them what they ought to have; and the spiritual rappers getting afraid lest she would tell the ladies, undertook, in a sly manner, to tell falsehoods on her to the proprietor. Come, come, I hear her footsteps—for I can tell when she comes—at the top of the stairs."
I then opened the door; Mrs. S. was standing; the two other ladies turning toward me, said, "Why, Iangy, how are you?" I replied, "I am well, I thank you." Mrs. ——— said, "You don't look well, you seem nervous, perhaps you walked too fast, or come too quickly up the stairs." I replied, "perhaps I have; I might have felt better had I not come up so fast."
After seating Mrs. S. before the glass, I began to comb her, occasionally taking a glance at the two other ladies, to watch their manner and countenances, seeing them so perfectly confused. Mrs. S. asked, "Well, Iangy, how does the world use you."
"As well, madam, as I wish, I have enemies as well as friends, but for my part, I like enemies; I feel ​sometimes like a lily in the midst of many poisonous weeds. If it was not the hand of Providence causing the wind to blow another way, it would choke the lily, and it would wither and die, so does the hand of Providence protect me as I move on the face of this unfriendly earth; my enemies would choke me if they could, if not with their hands, they would with their feet." I saw the two ladies blush, and touch each other on the foot.
My work was now finished, and bidding them good morning, I left the room. I then went into an adjoining room where was a lady who was raised in the State of New York. She began to question me, and ask me the news. Seeing from her manner that she had something to tell, I began to try and find out what it was. After a very little trouble I succeeded. She told me there was a man and woman in the next room who were not married. I told her it would be a poor hotel if everybody was married in it, and wanted to know the reason she thought so. She said that man and wife were more formal and dignified. Just then her husband knocked at the door, when she twisted and turned till she got him to leave the room; but I think it was more to ask me questions than on account of modesty. After he had gone she asked me to go with her to the spiritual rappers; I thanked her. and said I worked for the girls and could go in when I pleased. I made up my mind to be there at four o'clock and see what her object was in having me there. At the appointed time I went with her to see the rappers, and found her object was to ask many absurd questions, which were all answered favorably. By this time many of our most fashionable ladies came in; when ​they saw me they said, "For mercy's sake, Iangy, don't tell you saw us here." I assured them I would not tell on them if they did not tell on themselves.
After telling many unheard-of tales the spirit promised to play the guitar, and every one was requested to look right on the center of the table. I pretended to look on the table, but glancing at the two girls and the old woman, I saw one of the girls move her body from the table and touch the guitar with her foot. The mother seeing me eyeing her so closely, said: "Look on the table, Iangy," which I did, but still kept my eyes on them so closely they could not play the guitar. Finally, the spirit rapped and said it would not play the guitar that day, but it would tomorrow. I said the spirit did not like me, nor I the spirit, and so I would leave the room: one of the girls coming behind me asked me to come back in a few minutes.
After I left the spirit played, to the satisfaction of the ladies, and then commenced to rap on the door. I got some young misses and we stood at the door, and when the spirit rapped on the inside of the door we rapped on the outside and then ran away, which so frightened one of the girls she could not raise the spirit again.
That evening, after the ladies had left, I went in again and the old woman said: "Iangy, the spirit has told us that you have some hard feelings against us, and that we must make friends, and I know of no other way than that we should go this evening to your house, and rap for you and your friends; if convenient we will come at nine o'clock."
I went home to prepare supper for them, and invited ​many of my friends to be there. Promptly at eight o'clock they came, and with them two of our most prominent citizens. After my friends had asked many questions, some getting a favorable answer, some an unfavorable one, the mother and one of the gentlemen insisted on my asking a question. I told them I could raise a greater spirit than any of theirs, and stepping to the table I placed on it a bottle of old bourbon, saying, this is the only spirit that can be raised on earth. The old lady at first was very indignant, but she knew it was not worth while to be indignant with me and was soon in a good humor. I gave them their supper, and the two girls on leaving, said: "Iangy, don't you say anything of those two gentlemen being here." I said, certainly not, if there was disgrace I was the disgraced one for having them here.
On going to the hotel the next day, I found almost every one knew they had been to my house, but could not tell by whom they were accompanied. One of the ladies of the house tried very hard to pump it out of of me, but she could not; while she was attempting to pump me, some gentlemen came in and said that Kossuth had arrived and would be at the hotel in a short time.
I spent a good deal of my time in the hotel during Kossuth's stay, for it was very amusing to me to see the ladies' maneuvers—both those in the hotel and the visitors—it was laughable to see the ladies call on Mrs. Kossuth; though she could not speak a word of English she would bow her head and utter something between a groan and a grunt.
At one time Kossuth's room and the hall were full of people to see him, which put me in mind of the St. ​Charles when Gen. Taylor was there, after his return from Mexico. They would all rush to him, and if they could not all speak to him, they would touch his coat, and go away perfectly satisfied; some would even talk to his horse, as if he could understand every word they would say. So it was with this crowd, if they could but look at Kossuth that was quite sufficient.
They held a great mass meeting—all orders and societies made up money and presented it to Kossuth. There was one lady, a school teacher, who failed to make her speech while presenting the purse; but Kossuth did not care for the speech, all he cared for was the money. After Kossuth had spoken, and the presentation of the money, interrupted by many cheers, Mrs. Kossuth was called on for a speech; she came forth, having her handkerchief over her head, and smiled; every time money was presented to her she smiled more. I, in the midst of a crowd, said: "Let me look at the humbug," a gentleman at my side said, I am pretty much of your opinion.
Kossuth, getting no other way to leave, after the money was presented and the speechifying finished, escaped through the kitchen and pantry up stairs—laughing in his sleeve at the game he was playing. After he was in his room, and neither ladies nor gentlemen had followed him, I went to my work; and while combing a lady, she said, "I owe you five dollars to-day." I told her I would be happy to receive them. She said if she was in my place she would present them to Kossuth. I told her that Kossuth had already taken too much from our State, that I was in a hurry, and would explain my meaning the next day.
This lady thought me very ignorant. Next day she ​invited some ladies into her room, as they expected to have some fun with Iangy; but it did not turn out quite as they expected. While combing the lady she commenced to ridicule me, by asking me if I was going to give Kossuth some money. I told her "I was not; that some of our ladies were too apt to take up with humbugs, and that it was high time they should stop. You, and every lady in the hotel, know that I think and maintain that Kossuth is a humbug; and there is also another humbug in the house, and you will all find that out soon." They all went to work then to guess the person, and finally asked who I had reference to.
I said to them, "You shall hear at some future time; but let me answer your question why I will not give Kossuth my earnings. We have millions of slaves to look to in our country, which is a curse to it; and before we go abroad to pluck the mote out of our brethren's eye, let us pick the beam out of our own eye. Is the yoke of the Hungarians heavier than that our slaves bear? The Russians have not the power to cut, slash, and destroy the characters of the poor unfortunates. Moreover, I don't believe Kossuth is what he represents himself to be." She said, "Iangy, don't talk so much nonsense."
"It is not nonsense, madam," I replied; "I have seen so much of human nature in my humble position that I can, by looking at a man or woman, tell what they are. We will talk no more about Kossuth; but I think you will all yet find him out." She then said:
"What do you think of that lady who was here some time ago—the one that had so many diamonds, and the ladies chaperoned so?" "I suppose you know ​there are several ladies who do nothing but run after persons who dress elegantly, or know some person in the city who has a high position, and after running round picking up diamonds, get picked up themselves. That great lady married a poor man, and left him to wait on an old rich man. Her first husband having died, she married the old man on his sick bed, and he left all his money to her on condition that she would let her children take his name. The ladies picked her up and ran away with her; but finding the load too heavy, they fainted on the way, and dropped her. When she visits the city now, she stops at the Spencer House, for she has been found out at the Burnet House."
During the stay of Kossuth at the Burnet House, he made many speeches, one of which was in the drawing-room. There were a number of people assembled to hear all his speeches; but it seemed as if there was even more of a crowd than usual to hear this one. He spoke, as usual, on the oppression of the Hungarians, and at the close of every sentence there was a cheer. The gallery outside was crowded, the stairways were crowded, and those who could not get in were trying to look over the heads of others. Ladies were standing on chairs here and there through the drawing-room, and some ladies of notoriety in our city actually stood upon a thousand-dollar piano.
At this very time, when there was so much sympathy excited for the oppressed Hungarians, there was, in the very midst of our city, a man being tried for running away from cruel bondage and oppression, and endeavoring to escape to the land of liberty. He was caught, tried, and sent back to his cruel bondage— ​there to suffer unheard of tortures, too great to admit of their coming before the public view.
I must confess it was to me more of a disgusting than amusing sight, to see children, not more than one year old, led up by their parents, young boys, ladies and gentlemen, all going up to Kossuth, with from one to fifty dollars each to present to him as a token of their good will, and to show their sympathy with his oppressed country—while Kossuth, as I said before, did not seem to mind the speeches they made, so that he got the money from them.
There was stopping at the Burnet House a lady of great wealth; unlike most ladies, she did not dress and dash about, but, like all good mothers, took care of her children. She was in the hotel some four weeks, and none of the ladies looked at her, or seemed to notice her at all.
There was a meeting of the ladies every week—they met in the different ladies' rooms, to make clothes for orphans and poor children—and on these occasions they would have a regular frolic; and the ladies who came to stay the season, or any length of time, would by that means get acquainted with each other.
One day, after the meeting was over, I went to comb one of my ladies; another lady was in the room while I was at my work. I asked how it happened there was a lady in the house extremely wealthy, of high standing and good family, to whom they paid not the slightest attention. "Why," said one of the ladies, "I did not know there was any such person in the house." I then mentioned two or three of the families of high standing that she visited in the city.
The two ladies were considerably astonished, and, ​looking at each other, said: "What shall we do? How shall we manage it?" When they went down to dinner, they both bowed and smiled, which was quite unexpected to the lady. After dinner they went into the parlor, where all the ladies were, congregated, and told them there had been a lady in the house for some time who was very rich, and who visited the first families in the city, and that they must all call on her immediately. There was one lady present whom I had, some weeks before, induced to call on her, as I was at that time combing them both. She seemed amused at the distress of the others. They all called the next day, and continued calling; and at all their social meetings her company was particularly solicited.
Not long after Kossuth left, an English lady arrived at the house. She was a great favorite, not only at the hotel, for she brought recommendations which secured her access to the first families of the city. By some it was doubted whether they were authentic, yet there was a great deal of pains taken in introducing her round until she was found out.
Truly, in her capacity, she was one of the shrewdest and smartest women that ever came to this city. She could not only fascinate women and children, but the most intelligent and the most inferior men. She so fascinated a gentleman boarding in the house, that she was actually engaged to him, and, as he was a man of high standing, through his influence she was received into many families that she could not have visited otherwise, notwithstanding the recommendations she brought with her. After being so pampered, she got beyond her position, like many others I know and have known, who bring false recommendations.
​The first time I saw her, I was combing a lady, and she happened in the room. Her conversation was of nothing but lords, dukes, counts and earls. This lady was charmed and fascinated, listening to her as if all she said was true as gospel, or something that would nourish soul and body. She arose, and passing by, looked at me as if I was a little insect in her path. After she had gone out, the lady said to me, "Iangy, ain't she lovely?"
"Lovely!" said I; "No, madam, I don't think she is; and allow me to tell you, she is not what she represents herself. I have been in England too long not to know those who have mingled with the nobility. I have been child's nurse in England, and had an opportunity of seeing and learning a great deal about the nobility; and I know enough of them to know one in any part of the world I may meet them; I can even tell a servant that has been in their employ; and if this lady, in six months from now, holds the same position she now does, I will give you five years' hair-dressing, and if not, I shall expect a valuable present from you."
In a few days the soiree came off. At first the English lady did not like me; but hearing so many ladies, whom she tried to be intimate with, speak in my behalf, nobody could comb her but me. While combing her one day, she showed me some pictures. On the first glance I saw that she had got them out of the Book of Queens. One of these pictures she told me was her sister, and another her aunt; while, a day or two before, I had heard her tell some ladies that they were titled ladies, with whom she was very intimate.
​When she showed them to me I smiled, as though I thought all she was saying was really true. So, after I had dressed her, and was starting out, she asked me to take a glass of wine. I told her I did not drink wine; and seeing two bottles on the mantlepiece, labeled "poison," I told her I did not like to take poison. She said she only put that there to keep the servants out. She went to the ball in full dress, and was the lioness of the evening.
A short time passed, when she and her lover had a quarrel, which was kept up for some time; several of the ladies tried to have it settled, and it was fortunate for him they did not succeed. She got in her possession the daguerreotype of an orator, which all at once turned up missing; either the orator had taken it away, or got some of the maids to do it for him; however, it was gone. She asked me to go to the gallery where it was taken, and have one taken from a picture that was there, as 1 was acquainted in the gallery, and give it to her. I refused, as I had no use for the gentleman's picture—she said no more, although she seemed displeased at my refusal.
Soon after this she was discharged from the family by whom she had been employed as governess. A gentleman and lady were boarding in the house with whom she became very intimate, rather more so with the gentleman than the lady. She staid there a great while as the companion of the lady. There was a lady going to Europe for two or three years, and the governess persuaded them to rent her house and go to housekeeping. They did as she requested, and she went with them. She dressed as the lady's twin sister instead of a governess.
​It was not long before she caused the wife a great deal of unhappiness, and the wife's mother also said she did not like such familiarity, consequently they broke up housekeeping and the mother and daughter went to New York.
The governess, having left Cincinnati, went to a Southern city, and stopped at one of the fashionable hotels there, where the lady's husband and a partner had business to transact.
She undertook to cut her cards, and cut them well for awhile, acting the great lady, and reigning and domineering over everybody that was there, till at length one night one of the gentlemen got tight, and going to her room she would not let him in, when he deliberately broke open the door. This aroused the dignity of the proprietor, and the next day she was put out. A lady not long since, told me she had seen a letter from her saying she was in want of means, and was then seated by her cradle.
After these things happened, I went to the lady with whom I had the conversation, and asked her if she wanted me to give her the five years hair-dressing. She said no, but she would pay me anything for the rude manner in which she had spoken to me; "But I should like to know, Iangy, who the other humbug is you spoke about?" I said I would not tell her just then, for there was a set of ladies who could be taken in easily by diamonds and titles, and when these hum bugs come if they did not find them out they would blame me, and if they did find them out they would know I was right, so I would not speak, but let them get bit to their heart's content. After they came I might speak, but there were several ladies in the house ​knew these circumstances as well as I did, and had determined not to say anything till they would see how long they would run.
There now came a countess to the city. I will tell you how I came to know her, but not the particulars just yet. I saw her in Washington City, when she first came from Europe, while I was there with Minnie; I did not see her again for several years, till I met her in Cincinnati, when she came direct to my house. I do not know how she found my number or house, but she did find them out, and left a note for me to go to the Spencer House and comb her.
I did not then know who she was, nor did I wish to go so far to comb anyhow, and I did not go. Then three messages came after me to go and comb the great countess. It seemed that the proprietor and all in the house were ready to run at her command, on account of her being such a great lady.
On my way going down I stopped in the store of one of our most fashionable milliners, who showed me a bonnet she was making for the great countess at the Spencer House, and told me of the very expensive lace she had ordered for it. I told her I was on my way to comb the same lady as she had sent for me ever so often.
On my arrival at the Spencer House, being shown to her room, I at once recognized her as the lady I seen in Washington City. It was with great difficulty I suppressed my surprise. When I saw her in Washington City she was accompanied by her husband, who had recently returned from Europe. She received a great deal of attention in Washington on her husband's account. She went on home every once and ​awhile, and I would hear of her conduct but did not see her ladyship again until I met her at the Spencer House.
When I found who she was I told her I was in a great hurry and had to go. She told me she wanted a maid, and wished me to send one to her; she did not want her to stop in the hotel during the night but merely to attend on her during the day. I told her she would not get any nice person to go to her at eight in the morning and stop as long at night as she might require her. Her reply was, if she was in Kentucky she would make her slaves do so for her. I told her there was no making in this country. She did not know I recognized her at all, and I was anxious to let her know I did recognize her. I said to her, "Madam, did you not leave France at such a time and on such a steamer?" She gave me a very fierce look and attempted to deny it. I said, "Excuse me, madam, I thought you were the lady; she was a great countess."She brightened up at that and said:" Yes, it was I, I am a countess." I promised to go to comb for her but I did not. They staid there a little while, and then she and the count left and went to Kentucky.
In a short time they returned and put up at the Burnet House, he in the meantime, had changed his title from count to colonel; so they put up at the Burnet House as countess and cousin.
I met her one day on the stairs, she looked perfect daggers at me. On coming to the Burnet House she inquired who was their hair-dresser? They said Iangy; she wished me to be sent to her room. Several of the ladies told me, but I would not go, as I had no desire to comb the countess, and would pretend I ​was engaged, when she at length applied to another hair-dresser who was in the house, and she had the glory and honor of combing a countess.
The ladies were perfectly infatuated with the countess, and in love with the colonel. There were one or two ladies there who knew the countess and her circumstances, and of a morning on my going to comb them I could scarcely get through my work for laughing.
This colonel worked well in his own way; he had letters to some of our fine families, and they went round with him and innocently imposed him on some of our first families, where the colonel was asked to a musical soiree, together with his cousin the countess, and to many other little entertainments, on account of his being so great a colonel and his standing so near the emperor at the christening of his son. He had promised many ladies if they would visit France he would present them to the emperor.
There was a lady in the hotel who had seen this countess in France, where she had called on her, for if the countess ever heard of an American being in Paris, she always called on them, presuming on her husband's name; and of course, persons in foreign lands will speak to people and treat them with respect they would not look for at home. This lady treated the countess with great respect and introduced her and also the colonel, to all the ladies at the hotel.
Every two or three evenings the colonel was sporting a new suit of regimentals. He could have played a good card with the set of ladies he was among, had the countess not beed so well known amongst the class he desired so much to play on; many of them ​knowing her former husband's friends feared her like a tigress. She threatened several times to slap their faces, till they were actually afraid to meet her on the streets. If they saw her coming, they would dart down another street, and they would not visit the hotel while she was there, even to see their best friends. The sisters of her former husband were afraid to walk on the street, while she was in the city.
This went on for several weeks, till at length the colonel was taken sick, when the ladies were running, one with a basin of water to wash his face, another with a bottle of cologne to cool his brow, some one thing, and some another; one with a little tea-pot of tea, made by her own hands, and of course the colonel, could not refuse to take that. The countess was very kind to him, but getting tired of so many ladies waiting on him, she had him removed to her own room. This opened the eyes of the ladies, and they now saw what was going on.
In the meantime, some one must have sent a dispatch to her second husband, telling him of these things, for he very unexpectedly arrived, and took her away with him. The colonel, I heard, went to a lady's where he had a severe attack of varioloid. Shortly after, he left and went to New York, where in in a short time, he was joined by the countess.
There was in the hotel a very rich lady, that the colonel, while there, tried to court with the assistance of the countess. This lady was a widow, and had nearly half a million of dollars. The countess went to work to get some of her money, and for that purpose got up a raffle to impose some of her old ​jewelry on this rich lady, and others in the house. She said it was for charity, as there were numerous poor, destitute families in her neighborhood, whom she wished to relieve. She got some twenty dollars out of this widow, and some two or three each, from the other ladies and gentlemen. This occurrence took place before the colonel's illness. The following summer this widow met the colonel in New York, and received a great deal of attention from him, she introducing him to a great many of her friends as a great French colonel, and very wealthy. I was at Saratoga that season. There was a lady came there from New York, and who said to me:
"Oh! Iangy, I am going on to France this winter with a friend of mine, who is going to be married to a French colonel who stood beside the emperor at the christening of his son. He is going to present us to the emperor and empress, and give us an introduction at the palace." I said, "Oh, very likely, all red breeches are not royal; so I stood up with the queen of England, at the christening of the Prince of Wales, but it was outside the palace, leaning against the walls, to hear the beautiful music inside."
This colonel, at last, became a great bore to the widow, so much so that she became disgusted, and returned to Cincinnati. After a little while she received a letter from the colonel, asking her for a loan of a thousand dollars. She wrote him she would not send it. He wrote again, demanding it, and threatening in case of a refusal, he would try to make it appear she was engaged to him. She consulted an eminent lawyer, and finding he could not do anything, wrote him a decided refusal, positively declaring she would ​hear no more from him. So he found, though he professed to be such a royal Frenchman, he could neither coax, persuade nor compel the money out of our American ladies' hands.
One winter morning I noticed every countenance and dress I met on my walk—first was a man with his black beard whitening with the frost, muttering to himself; he looked as though he or some of his friends had been unfortunate. Then came another with such a smile on his face, looking as pleasant as though he had some hot buckwheat cakes and nice rolls for breakfast, and had been spoken kindly to by both wife and children; next I met two sprightly young men, well known, who had at least taken a few hours to make their toilet, when one slipped down, and the other leaned against the house to laugh. Going on a little further, I met a gentleman coming along in such deep thought he ran against a lady and looked so surprised he did not know whether to say, excuse me madam, or what did you do that for, madam.
After going my rounds that morning, I had to comb for a party. I went to the house of the gentleman who looked so sad, and told his wife I had met her lord that morning, and he looked as if his coffee was muddy, his bread had been burnt, or his cakes not very high for breakfast that morning. "You are right, Iangy," she said, "both were bad, and he left in a very bad humor."
I proceeded with my work all gay and cheerful every one anticipating a good time. About nine o'clock, or half past, I had got through with a lady at the Burnet House, and I then went back to the ​house where the party was, as they had asked me to come and take a peep at the ladies, and see how they looked.
As I walked along there were several persons behind me hallooing and hooping, and I could hear them say, "let us frighten her to death," but I did not feel at all alarmed, although many persons had been garroted, for I generally had in my basket a good protector.
I went on to the house, took a peep at the ladies, who all looked beautiful, and seemed to enjoy themselves so much, that I staid rather later than I intended. On my going home, there were two men standing on the corner of Fourth and Sycamore—one went back, and the other walked a little distance behind me, until we got to near Race street, when he stopped before me, and he did not speak, but walked close to me. Stepping back, I told him if he took another step he would fall at my feet. He said he was not following me, he was going for a doctor; and so saying he went up a gentleman's steps and pretended to ring the bell. When I got round the corner, I took a peep at him to see whether he would go in or not: he stood at the door till he thought I was out of sight, and then ran away as fast as he could. I am sure if he had had wings he could not have gone any faster. This shows that any man who will attack a woman on the street is an arrant coward, and a woman can frighten him to death. I was very glad to get home, and then made up my mind I would not go to parties any more, but settle down.
The next morning I started out with a full determination to go to no parties and not be out later than I ​possibly could help; and, moreover, if I went to any person's house and they were talking about parties, I would not say a word; for the morning after parties all the conversation was of how this one looked, or how that one was dressed; it appeared as if they could think of nothing else. All these things would annoy me and take my mind off what I had determined on doing—as I had a headache I thought I would go home and keep quiet for awhile.
I did not go my rounds that morning, as I thought I was sick. Just as I was coming down Fourth street there were two little girls on the steps of a daguerreian gallery. As I passed by they said: "See here." Knowing them to be beggar girls, I turned with the full determination of assisting them. They then asked me, "how far I would have been if they had not called me." Forgetting my good resolutions, I got perfectly furious, and getting at them, though they hallooed, "it was not me," I gave them each a good whipping.
Now that my resolution had been broken, I went home so angry that I did not go out that day, although I had several calls, but I would not go to any, simply because I was so provoked at breaking my resolution. When I made such resolutions some little thing would always occur and make me break them and I thought I would not make any more.
I went out next morning, leaving my long face and thinking it was not worth while to try to have a heavy heart when I had a light one, so I was a full hour going from Elm to Sycamore, stopping and chatting with one school girl and then another, passing along and noticing every queer thing that I saw. Going ​along the street I saw a young girl in Bloomer costume, and said to her, "My dear child, go and pull off those breeches and put a piece on your dress to let it down, and don't be disgracing all woman kind." The girl, from her looks, made me understand she did not know whether to be frightened or indignant.
I proceeded on to my work. I first went to a lady in the east end, whom I have been combing for the last seven years; the task I have to perform there is a great deal more of pleasure than labor. On entering that morning I found the lady and gentleman at the breakfast table. The cat was at a little distance looking up in the lady's face, and the dog at his master's side looking up at him. I thought this was certainly the coziest dining room I visited daring the winter. From the appearance of the table you might think there were visitors expected, but not so, as this was a continual thing; and if a friend happened in, they would not have to run after plate, knife and fork. As I before said, I have combed this lady for seven years and I have never seen either her or her husband in a bad humor. I finished my work here and then went to three other places and found all cheerful but the fourth place I went to. I was a few minutes too late and got a good scolding. I did not say anything, but made up my mind I would not go there again, but I did return again and was treated a little better, but the old sound was in my ears. "My money,—my position,—no one likes me—I have got more money than such and such a one has, and I don't ask them any odds, and I don't care whether they like me or not—you seem to be very independent here lately, you don't care whether you comb a body or not."
​"Not so, madam, I said; I am not so independent. I comb some ladies for money and they employ me for my work, and I don't care a snap for them; but there are some ladies I would comb as well for pleasure as money, and some I love dearly." "I know you don't love me, you only comb me for my money." "I did not say that, madam, for to tell you the truth, I love your children dearly." I left the house, wondering if I had said anything wrong or not. That night there was a small party in my aristocratic circle; when I got home I found among my orders there were several for another circle. I was then in a hobble; I did not know what to do, and while meditating, the lady I combed in the morning sent tor me; then I was in double trouble, but determined to fill the first orders that were at home. There were some of my customers I did not go to; I knew they would-all excuse me but this lady, and I thought she would not require me, as I had combed her in the morning, and there were others I had not combed at all.
I went and combed the ladies,—a set I never combed before—they were not only pretty but graceful and intelligent. I combed that night ten beautiful girls, every time I drew the comb through their hair I would wish they were in our first circles.
While going home—it was a very dark night—I was walking very fast, thinking of these beautiful girls and wishing I had the power to place them in the higher circles, when about the middle of the square, my foot struck against something; on looking down I saw it was a man laying in the street, either dead or drunk. I pushed him and tried to rouse him, but he did not move, he was dead, but dead drunk. I ​was so excited I thought he was really dead. There were some gentlemen coming toward me—I got behind a high step to see what they would do—they passed by and never noticed him. I waited and saw two gentlemen come along; they noticed him, and seeing me looking at him, one of them said: "I believe he is dead." They felt his pulse, "no, says the other, he is not dead, come along, he is only drunk." By this time several had come up; when I saw the men notice him I started to go, but hearing one of them say, "Oh, let him be, he is only a drunken fellow," I stepped up and said, "Gentlemen, if he is drunk he is a man; let him be taken to the station house and cared for, and be punished when he is sober." One of the gentlemen remarked that I was right, and called a watchman to take him to the station house. I went home perfectly satisfied, and was pleased to think that I had at least got a man in the watch house.
When I got home I found there had been many calls, some I was sorry to miss, and there were others I was glad I chanced to be from home when they came. It was now nine o'clock; I sat down to supper, thinking I should have such a good time to rest myself and be quiet, congratulating myself that I had not been angry or said a thing that was wrong, although I had disappointed a lady or two.
Next morning I went my rounds. On going to the lady's I have before mentioned, I heard again the old sound—"My money and my position; such and such a one is supported by my money." I left those sounds behind me, and, on my way home, I met three ladies going to prayer-meeting, and they made me promise ​to go, at eleven o'clock, to the prayer-meeting at the Presbyterian Church, which I did.
The services were so well conducted that, it seemed to me, any one who went once, could not refrain from going again. I continued going for a month, and during that time it seemed there were more little parties than had been in our city for a number of years. Then, again, I made up my mind to settle down and be quiet—to see and not see, to hear and not hear—but I found it was impossible to do this and continue my occupation as a hair-dresser.
During this series of meetings, there were two large parties given, and I attended them both, notwithstanding I had promised myself, about four hundred times, that I would not go to any more of their gay parties. There was a young Misses' party on East Fourth-street, and all the elite of the city were there. The young girls were all pretty and graceful, and there was a great display of youthful beauty. At first I stayed up stairs, and would not go and see them dance; but I loved some of them dearly, and concluded I must go and see them enjoy themselves. I stayed during the evening, and watched the young curly heads, smooth faces, and brilliant dresses; they looked like little fairies flitting about from room to room: occasionally several bearded gentlemen were seen in their midst, which made them look even more fairy-like than before.
The two little hostesses were sisters, and received their guests with all the grace and dignity of ladies that had been entertaining for twenty-five or thirty years; they seldom danced, but kept looking round to see that all enjoyed themselves; and at the supper-table ​they went from one end of the table to the other, to see that all were well helped; and they did not take refreshments themselves until the guests had departed.
After some days had passed, there was a neighborhood party given, in the East-end: the party was given to an officer of high rank, who was a particular friend to the hostess' son-in-law, who was also an officer of eminence, and was universally beloved by all who knew him. The ladies were all in full dress, and looked very beautiful. The daughter of the hostess was dressed plainly, but very elegantly. All passed off finely; the supper-table was elegantly adorned with flowers, and the room was decorated with American emblems. Several pieces of music, suitable to the occasion, were played during supper, by one of our best bands.
One or two gentlemen, who supposed there would be no strong drink on the table, came in after indulging pretty freely of the water-of-life. One of them went to the table with a large handkerchief tied round his neck, as napkins are tied round children when they go to their meals; this caused a great deal of remark, and these gentlemen were generally remembered to be forgotten at future parties.
A short time after, it pleased a lady in the West-end to give a party. She was a bright, brilliant young lady; and, previous to her party, she had captivated some beaux the East-end girls had long set their caps for. The latter now got so dreadfully pious they would not go to the party, and thought it was awful to have a party while a series of prayer-meetings were going on.
​A week or two rolled round, when a party was given by the lady of one of our well-known Judges; some six hundred tickets were made out; the East-end ladies did not think it would be a sin to go to that party, as they supposed while in sight of their church or steeple there was no harm. It was well they so determined, for it was a brilliant affair. The ladies were all elegantly dressed, a few of which I will describe. One lady was dressed in white silk, with upper skirt of silk, with white illusion puffings, which swept the floor for half a yard. One well-known East Fourth-street belle wore a double-skirt of illusion, small puffs about half a yard up each side; berthe to match, trimmed with little forget-me-nots, which could not be distinguished from natural flowers; her hair was trimmed with the same shade of blue flowers, drooping down on her snowy neck, which made her look more like wax-work than a human being. She had not too much religion to go to cither the East or West-end, whenever she thought it proper to go. There were many others there—but I will only say they were all beautiful.
I know a young lady, a native of Cincinnati, who was raised and educated in the same city, beautiful and highly accomplished, who lived principally at the most fashionable hotels, where she made the acquaintance of an Englishman, who was reputed immensely wealthy, and who fell in love with, and married her. For a long time she thought two horses were insufficient to draw them along, and wanted four; she was so pampered that at length she fell out with all her young schoolmates. They staid through the summer, and left in the fall for New Orleans, where they ​remained some time at the Verandah. The gentleman there obtained possession of his wife's jewelry, and, with all the money he could collect, left for parts unknown, and for several months was not heard of: when last heard of, he was still traveling. It frequently happens that those who marry foreigners for their titles or wealth, find themselves thus deceived. I can not but laugh sometimes to see how some of our upper tens get picked up.
Some few years ago a gentleman came to this city, who passed himself off as the son of an Indian chief; he was gallanted here and there, and parties were given him by some of our first families. This chief turned out to be a fugitive slave; he actually both roomed and slept with some of our gentlemen, and did not feel as if he had lowered himself at all. This went on for a few weeks, till a very large party was given him; but when they went to look for him they found him at what you call a "break-down shin-dig," in the lower part of the town. A few days passed, and he was captured by his master. Having been taken down South, he made master and friends believe he would not live in a free State, notwithstanding his being so pampered and allowed to go at large. The last I heard of him he had escaped to Montreal. He was as smart a man as I had the pleasure of conversing with in Toronto.
During my servitude at Mr. L———'s, while running around with the child, I one day noticed a little boy coming into the office; he looked the very picture of distress. Mr. L. asked him what was the matter: he replied that his mother wished to put him in a segar manufactory, and he did not want to go. Mr. L. ​then asked him what he wanted to do, when, much to the surprise of all, he answered, "I want to be a painter." He had made a drawing, which he showed Mr. L., who, in the rough sketch, detected evidence of talent, and sent him to one of the best painters then in the city. He staid there some time, and then left the city. A short time after, I went to New York, and the first little man I met, strutting down Broadway, was this Mr. ———. Mr. L. had sent him on to New York, kept him there till he was prepared, and finally sent him to Italy, where he remained for some time; and when he left there it was said he was equal, if not superior, to some of the teachers.
This is but one of the ten thousand good acts Mr. L. has done; hundreds of such acts have come under my own observation. Often have I known gentlemen in embarrassed circumstances go to him and get immediate assistance. Widows that were in trouble would ask him for help, and get it without question. Many and many a family that are now in comfortable circumstances, but for him would this day be without a roof to shelter them. Orphans, without the assistance rendered by him, would be wandering round the streets, homeless and fireless. I have seen as many as a hundred, in one day, waiting before his door to receive assistance, and none of them go away empty-handed. I have seen him pay out as much as sixty or a hundred dollars a day, when wood and coal were scarce, and hard to be got by the poor, to what we call regulars—that is, every-day visitors.
An Irish lady came to this country, who had been very well off in her own land. She brought means plenty with her here, but by some misfortune she ​became nearly destitute. She was a widow, and had a large family, and although in such straightened circumstances, she still moved in a respectable circle. Her landlord insisted on her paying her rent, and, as a last resource, she thought of Mr. L., went to him and told him her story; he asked her no questions, but at once put her mind at ease by telling her she should have the money, twenty-three dollars, which he sent her the same evening.
I have known families who, when beggars would call at their door, would always send them to Mr L., it may be at that very moment they having just arisen from a sumptuous repast, were sitting in their cushioned chairs, beside a rousing fire, the house heated from the cellar to the garret. Yet, these people having every luxury their hearts could wish, would not give one cent to the poor who were standing without their door, cold and shivering, but would send them, hungry and houseless, to Mr. L. because he was charitable, and good to the poor.
Whenever I see an uncharitable act in a gentleman or lady, I think of the words I heard from a mass of people at the funeral of an old citizen. While they were bearing the body away, I heard the voices of many people saying, "Well, he is gone; he was very wealthy, but he never did any good either to the State or city." In contrast to this, was the funeral of a young man, son to a well known gentleman on East Fourth street, he was young, but loved by all. While they were slowly bearing the body away, I heard the voices of many people, one saying he was kind to me, another, what will such-and-such a one do; then again, oh, what shall we do, now, how will we get along ​without him. Then there were carriages filled with such people as do not usually go to such places, going to take a last farewell look at one, who in life, they so much admired. Truly, his charities were without number, and without ostentation, for his right hand knew not what his left hand gave. I knew him as a boy, and I knew him as a man, and always found him the same noble, generous, upright character; even his dearest friends or his parents did not know many of his charities till after his death. The last time he was seen by a number of his friends, was at a wedding, where he was more lively and gay than he had been for a long time before.
During that winter there were more parties and weddings than I had ever known before; among the rest was one given by a gentleman who presented his wife with a set of diamonds on the aniversary of her wedding, and she invited a large party for the purpose of her showing them off. Among the guests was one lady who was dressed in white satin, and a full set of magnificent diamonds; it was said her diamonds cost as many thousand dollars as those of the hostess cost hundreds. Everything was elegant, and on the same scale of magnificence she always has her parties.
Some few years ago I was sent for to comb some ladies at the Burnet House. I went and combed them, but did not know them at all. I had heard there were two ladies at the Burnet House, mother and daughter, very wealthy, and said to be old citizens. On my combing the young lady, I mentioned the name of a lady, and asked her if she knew her. She said yes, and was pressing me on to ask more questions, when ​I was stopped by the very evident delight of the mother, which at once betrayed to me who they were, though old citizens, by some means they were not known by the fashionables. This lady was very elegant, and highly educated, but so very diffident, the ladies found it very difficult to converse with her. I soon found out both mother and daughter were delighted at. being singled out and noticed for their wealth, and as the Burnet House is known to be a house to bring people out, she was soon brought into notice, and sought after by fortune hunters.
I remember the first party they were invited to; it was by a gentleman who became acquainted with her when she was at school, and, through politeness paid attention to her. This alarmed some of the parents of the fortune hunters, and they went to her mother to get her to leave, and go on a winter's tour. They succeeded in this, but her fame for wealth following her, she had many beaux. On her return home, one followed her, and paid her a great deal of attention, till at length he was ordered out of the house by her mother, and forbidden to see the young lady again, while there was another whose visits were encouraged. When the latter got a little acquainted, he was run off by another, and so on, till five, to my certain knowledge, were run off' in this manner. At length she was taken to another State, a fugitive, to escape from a gentleman she had positively promised to marry.
While there, she fell into the hands of one who was more shrewd than any she had been previously engaged to, and she promised to marry him. He came to visit her, the time for the marriage was appointed, ​and everything seemed fair; on leaving, he was not to come again until he came to claim his bride.
Some months rolled around, and he came to claim his prize, when, to his great surprise, the word was, no, not now, and he was requested to go, and come again. He was about to do so, when he received an anonymous letter, saying "don't leave her or she will be run off; if you want her, marry her now, and take her with you." So he went to her and told her she must go with him, now or never. She consented to be married immediately.
When her friends found she was determined, and all ready, bag and baggage, consent was given for her to be married in the house. I went there in the morning, and I must say, among the hundred and fifty brides I have dressed, I have never seen so many rolls of paper unrolled, or so many lawyers in my life. I don't know whether they were afraid of herself, or her property running away, but certain it is, she had to sign one paper after another, and he the same, till they were tired; at length, they were married.
One day a lady came to my house in a private carriage when I was not at home, and left a message for me to comb her, as she had cut her hand so badly she could not comb her own hair; and as she said I had combed her at the Burnet House, I took it for granted she must be a lady I had been in the habit of combing. I was very tired when I came home, yet as the lady had cut her hand I felt it my duty to comb her.
On going to her house I found it to be in the center of the city, and on one of our best streets, but it looked like a boarding house. It was not a customary thing for me to dress hair in a common boarding house but ​I thought perhaps it might be some one who had been living fast in the Burnet House and had come down. I rang the door bell and a small female voice asked, "who is there?" I said "the hair-dresser," but I thought it a very queer procedure. She opened the door and I went in. The stairs were in the middle of the house with rooms on each side. I took a peep in both parlors but saw nothing but a brilliant gas light and a bright fire, with a piano open in each parlor, a harp on one side of the piano, and flutes on the other; and from all appearance visitors were expected.
The little girl that opened the door, supposing I was going in the parlors, ran up the stairs hallooing "this way, this way." I followed on, having no suspicion of wrong till I entered the room. On going in I found it was a little black-eyed, curley haired woman that had fooled me and a pupil of mine before in like manner. When I saw her I did not know what to do, whether to tell her what I thought of her and not comb her or comb her and leave quietly. I thought the latter course the best. While combing her I asked if this was a dress-making establishment or a boarding house. She said neither, it was a private house; but I had my doubts. When I got her about half combed there came in two or three girls and took a peep. I eyed them well. In a few minutes several more come in and as soon as they opened their mouths I knew what the creatures were.
I was about fifteen minutes combing the woman, and when I had finished about half a dozen of them asked me to comb them. I refused, saying I had a previous engagement which I was compelled to keep. At this moment a tall lady came into the room whom I ​had often seen before in some of our most fashionable stores; she asked me if I would comb her. As I wanted to know something about the house I agreed to do so, and went into her room. While combing her I asked her if this was a boarding house; she said "Yes, its a fancy boarding house." I told her that woman had deceived me. She was angry when she heard this, and said the girl was entirely too bold, that she went to public places, concerts and even to the Burnet House hops, and took a pride in boasting of it.
I have heard much talk of taming horses but I never knew or heard of any horse being so well tamed as a a gentlemen in high life not a thousad miles from our Queen City. Many of my readers, I am sure, know the gentleman; his wife was in bad health, and on several occasions he was known to be cruel to her. Several of her friends and relations got together and determined to whip him, but the great trouble was to get him out of the house at night, as he was an arrant coward, as all men are who treat their wives badly. A very shrewd young gentleman hit on a plan—he got a horse and putting on a pair of spurs made the horse prance and make a great noise outside the door, at twelve o'clock at night, then put spurs to the horse and dashed off at the top of his speed; at this moment another young gentleman laid down at the door, groaning as if in great pain. This man, thinking somebody had been thrown off their horse, came out with nothing on but his linen, to see what was wrong; when he was pounced upon by two or three that were waiting for him; taken to a thicket not far from the house and whipped in the public woods. Since then he has been ​a loving, kind and indulgent husband and his wife has perfectly recovered her health.
One season on returning from Saratoga, I noticed among the passengers a Cincinnati lady returning home, bringing with her a lady from New York. This lady had no particular standing in New York, nor did she know any fashionable people there. The Cincinnati lady belonged to the third circle, but made her visitor believe she belonged to the first, and could introduce her into it as soon as she got to Cincinnati.
I was sitting right behind them, and as I had a headache, I kept my vail over my face. They, supposing me asleep, kept up the conversation and talked over a good many of the ladies' names I worked for, and also my own name was mentioned; it was with difficulty I kept still, but wishing to hear them finish their conversation, I kept as quiet as I could.
The Cincinnati lady began to tell what they would do when they got to the city. "In the morning," said she "we will go to Miss B———'s and then to S———'s dry goods store, and in the evening to Smith & Nixon's Hall; next morning to the confectionery, and in the afternoon to the dancing school. Strakosch is expected, and we will then buy a handsome head dress, have our hair dressed, and go to the concert in the evening. The other lady inquired, with some surprise, "Why have you hairdressers in Cincinnati!" the reply was, "Why mercy, yes, yes indeed, we have hair-dressers in Cincinnati, and one is so fashionable she goes to Saratoga, Newport, and New York. I have never had her yet to comb me, but we will take a carriage and go for her to come and comb us; and you make her believe you are in the habit of going all ​round to the fashionable watering places; but be careful to say you were stopping at the other hotel from the one she was combing at. After hearing their plans I took an oppertunity of moving my seat and made up my mind to be prepared for them.
Some three or four weeks had passed after my arrival at home, when, truly, one day a handsome carriage came to the door, and the occupants of it seemed to be quite fashionable ladies. They asked me to go down to the west end and comb them. I told them it was farther than I wished to go, as I was getting old now, but if they would send for me at five o'clock I would go and comb them. At exactly five the carriage drove up and getting in, I was driven to the west end. I found the house very unpretending on the outside, but inside elegance itself. There were, besides the lady herself, two very beautiful girls, and the New York lady. She introduced me to the three—to the two young girls as her daughters and the other as a lady from New York; and then requested them to leave the room till she was combed.
When they had gone and I was combing her she told me this lady was one of the fashionables of New York, lived in a magnificent house on one of the most fashionable streets, and was one of the leaders of ton. I told her I could see she was, as soon as I saw one of them I could easily tell their position. She said: "I wish you to be very particular in combing this lady, as she has been in the habit of having her hair dressed every day in New York, her position in New York is far superior to mine here; yet I think this election will bring us near right, as we were at dancing school the other evening, and the ladies were all bending and ​smiling at us; some of them spoke who never noticed me before; I suppose it was on account of my husband, who has a great deal of influence. "I intend giving a party next week on my daughters' account, and am going to ask several whose acquaintance we made at the dancing school, and some of them I know you know very well, and through your influence I expect they will come; do not tell me you can not persuade them, as I know many places where you took children to visit and by that means the parents finally became on visiting terms; you can do the same for me."
I told her she flattered me, as I did not know before I had that influence with either children or parents; and then I observed to her, "Madam, I will tell you a better plan than that: As you wish your daughters to be fashionable; rent out your house, go to the Burnet House, take rooms there, and your daughters, being beautiful and accomplished, will soon be fashionable; with the gentlemen there is nothing can keep them out of the fashionable circle of ladies.
"I have known hundreds who were raised in this city in moderate circumstances, who, when they accumulated a little money, went to the Burnet House and soon became fashionable people. One lady from whom, several years ago, I used to buy apples at her little stand, when I was nurse for my children, afterward became a fashionable lady at the Burnet House. But, indeed, madam, I am a poor hand to give advice of this kind, as I myself am too high spirited to crouch to anybody for position or anything else." I had now finished, and the lady said, "you will now comb my ​friend; you will please say nothing of our conversation to her."
The New York lady came in and took her seat before an immense mirror, and I commenced to comb her. Her conversation was New York, and New York fashionables, her position there, and so forth; she mentioned boarding on Seventh-street, with a Mrs. B———., when I said to her, "she does not keep a boarding house now, madam." She said, "No, but she did." I replied, "Yes, I know she did, and boarded many persons to whom she was far superior herself. I knew her when she kept boarding house on States-street, New York, opposite the Battery, and had three beautiful and interesting daughters. Her husband failed in business, and she strove to do something to educate her daughters, and to assist her husband. Many a morning have I seen her sit at the head of the table washing her cups and saucers in a cider tub, with the brass bands glittering like gold; her little daughters would stand on each side of her with towels, one wiping the dishes and the other wiping the silver, before going to school. On going to school you would see them with their little gingham aprons, made high to the throat, with a little ruffle, with warm hoods on and cloaks, trotting along through the snow. I was nursing nearly opposite where they lived. My attention was one morning attracted by the conversation of two little wealthy children who were taking leave of their mamma before stepping into an elegant carriage that stood waiting for them; they were dressed not only warmly but in the hight of fashion. These other children were passing by, going to school, when one of the little wealthy ​ones cried out: "Oh, mamma, look at those two little girls, actually walking through the snow; may I ask them in the carriage?" The other says, "No, they are poor children," when the mother cried: "Their parents are poor, and keep a boarding house; you must not ask them into my carriage." These children, though raised in a boarding house, are now married and living in style; one in New Jersey and the other in Fifth Avenue, both wealthy; while the parents of the others are broken up and now actually keep a boarding house, and not a fashionable one at that.
The New York lady blushing, said: "You misunderstood me, I did not mean to make any insinuations against her; I merely mentioned I had been boarding there."
I told her when my friends were mentioned I did not wish to hear them spoken of in a slighting way, as I had a great habit of defending them.
She turned quickly then, and inquired, "Have I not seen you before at Saratoga?" I told her it might be, but unless she saw me at the United States, I reckoned she did not see me. She said she stopped at the Union, but she thought she saw me at the springs. I told her she was mistaken, for although I had been going to Saratoga these ten years, I had only been at the springs three times in my life. She then said she got acquainted in New York with a lady from one of the towns on the Ohio river. It was at the dress-makers and both had to wait a little while in the parlor and thus got acquainted.
She then began to tell me of Miss P 's wealth, and how she was spludging it in New York, when I said, "Well, she may be spludging it around in New ​York, and boasting of her family and wealth, but I know of one transaction she was engaged in, that does not add much to her credit. I will tell you what it is I allude to. By some means they had in their family a slave who was to serve for a certain length of time, and then get his freedom. The older members of the family began to think freedom was too sweet a thing to give this boy, and wanted to keep him a slave for life; but fearing the law, they tried to get him sent to Kentucky, but did not know how to accomplish it, when this young, artless lady made up the plot herself. She sent the boy down to a boat for some apples which were on board; the boy took the basket and went for the apples, but the captain being in the plot, when the boy came on board, shoved off the boat and carried him away."
There is another lady in the same neighborhood, who sports a splendid set of diamonds, and I will now tell you how she got them. "It has been a secret; even her neighbors to this day do not know where the girl is they saw so frequently about the house. This lady married a gentleman from a southern State, who owned several slaves, but was a good hearted man, and a perfect gentleman at that time. Being about to get married to a lady in a free State, this gentleman determined to free his servants. He commenced by freeing a woman of, it may be, 22 or 23 years old. After his marriage, he took the girl as domestic in the house with his wife, the girl feeling she was free, and not being so well treated as she had been in the slave States, thought she would like to hire herself to some one else. Being very severely treated by this lady, ​and kept so hard at work, she had no time to make her clothes, unless at night.
One night she was sitting at twelve o'clock, busy sewing, her clothes all open round her, when she heard a buggy drive up to the door, and the voices of some two or three men, one of whom called to her to come there. She went forward to see what was the matter, when two of the men caught her and threw her into the buggy, where the other man stood; he caught her by the throat and prevented her making any outcry; the other two men jumped in, and they all drove off, still holding her tightly round the neck till they had got out of hearing of the people in the different houses. They drove down to the river where a skiff was waiting for them, which carried them across. They hurried to Louisville, and at once put her in jail there, lest any one should recognize her.
The next morning the lady ran all around inquiring if any body had seen her girl, as when she got up that morning, the girl was gone. It remains a mystery to this day to some of the people of that city, whatever became of that girl.
I was, not long after this occurrence, on one of the fashionable steamboats going from Louisville to New Orleans. A few moments before the boat was ready to leave, this girl was brought on board by a friend of her former master, and given in charge of the captain and chambermaid. When I saw the girl I immediately recognized her, and asked her what was the matter with her eyes, as they were all blood-shot, and the mark of men's fingers were yet on her neck. When she told her story, the sympathy of many on board was excited for her, but we were going fast down ​stream, and nothing could be done for her, although there were several on board who knew she had been taken from Kentucky to secure her freedom. They put her off below Baton Rouge."
When I had concluded, the lady exclaimed, "Oh, heavens, I would rather go back to New York and work there, than be here among the fashionables." I told her if she belonged to the fashionables of New York, it was all the same, as a great many of the splendid mansions on Fifth Avenue, and other fashionable parts of the city were built with the price of blood; for a great many southerners when they accumulated a little money, were in the habit of coming north every summer, and often secured homesteads in New York. "I will not stay here long, but before I leave, will come to see you and get you to tell me some things you saw and know of the South." I said to her, if you come to my house, I will tell you many things, and give you occular demonstration too, of the truth of what I have been telling you, for I will show you an old woman there, and she will tell you how she was treated while down South.
The next Sunday evening while part of the members of my family were gone to church, and I was sitting alone, Miss ——— came in, almost out of breath, as she had great difficulty in finding the house. The last time she had been there she rode, and as this was Sunday evening, the stores were all closed, and she found it rather strange, but making inquiries, and finding the street, she soon found the house.
On coming in she told me she had but little time to stay, and she wanted to have a good interview with me; she said she had told the family she was stopping ​with, she was going to church, but she thought it was better to come and see me than to go to church ten times. I made up my mind I would tell her several little incidents, but first I called in the old woman, who had been a slave for some fifty-four or five years. During that time, she was sold four or five times; the last man who bought her, kept her for twenty-three years, and after working her almost to death, he forced her freedom on her, and sent her to Ohio with fifteen dollars in her pocket.
After she had conversed freely with the old woman, the latter left the parlor, when the lady commenced the conversation with me by saying, "I am an abolitionist." "I am very sorry indeed to hear that," I replied. She started, and looked at me in perfect amazement; when I said, "I don't like abolitionists, nor any that bear the name, as I have seen so much injustice and wrong, and actually speculation done in that name, that I hate to hear it; but I like every person—slave-holders, free-holders, or any other kind of holders who treat all people right, regardless of nation, station or color; and all men and women who love their Redeemer, will do this without confining themselves to any one name to make themselves conspicuous. I have known many ladies here, who contributed to causes that were good, but would have their names withheld, for fear they would be called abolitionists, for the name abolitionist is applied in contempt, to those who wish to do mischief.
Miss ——— then said, "I understand you now, and your principles; now tell me something about the South."
"I will now tell you, madam, of a gentleman who ​went from one of the Eastern States to St. Louis, some thirty-five or forty years ago. After accumulating a good deal of wealth, he bought a woman to keep house for him, and raised two daughters. He put them in a convent to receive their education, and when they were about seventeen years old, they came out, very elegant and accomplished girls. They lived with their father, his lawful acknowledged daughters. After a year had expired, he took suddenly ill and died, without having made any preparation for his daughters, or secured their freedom, as he supposed they would enjoy all the rights of children.
"He had two brothers, who, hearing of his death, came to St. Louis to settle up his affairs; they, wishing to take home all they could with them, put these two girls and their mother up and sold them to the highest bidders. People from all parts came to purchase these girls; but they declined serving anybody, they chose death rather than slavery; but in spite of all they could say or do, they were put up.
"The first one sold was the mother; she was bought by a man in Texas, and was hurried away forthwith. On leaving her daughters she impressed it on their minds, as her parting charge, to always live respectably, to suffer death rather than degradation, and never to forget there is a God who has promised to hear his people's prayers, and deliver those who call upon him.
"The youngest girl was sold to a man who took her up Red river for his housekeeper. The other one was bought by a trader, taken to New Orleans, and sold to two or three different people; but, on account of her refinement and determination, she was always ​returned to the yard, and every time she was taken back she received a severe lashing.
"I was one day combing a lady at the St. Charles who was in ill health, and had been there some time; her father, while walking round, used to go into these traders' yards to see the slaves who were for sale. One day he saw this young girl, and was immediately struck by her appearance and accomplishments; as the traders had told him she was an accomplished lady's maid, he came home and told his daughter about her, and said his heart bled for her. The young lady expressed a wish to see her, when her father said he would have her sent up, as he did not know but he might wish to purchase her. I said I would be much obliged to them if they would not have her brought up till the next day, when I could be there combing, as I should like to see her.
"The next day at eleven o'clock the girl was there; both the young lady and her mother conversed with her, and found out all about her. The young lady being in ill health, became so excited that she took one of her bad spells, and they feared she would die. The young girl was hurried back to the yard again, when the trader asked her what was said, or would they buy her. She did not say anything, except that the lady did not want her. 'Then,' said he, 'that must be your own fault, as you did not make yourself as agreeable as you should have done;' and he gave her a severe whipping.
"If any purchaser comes into these yards to see the slaves, and they do not all rise up and make themselves as agreeable as possible, so as to make a sale, on the departure of the person they are severely ​scourged. If the women are low-spirited, they give them some stimulating drink to rouse them up and drive away their dullness or low spirits; while to the men, brandy, mixed with a little gunpowder, is given for the same purpose. The slaves and the apartments are both dressed up at particular times, when the purchasers are in the habit of coming in.
"About a week after this occurrence, the young lady requested me to go down and see this girl, if I could, but not to let any one know what my object was. I went, and walked round, looking at them all, until I at length got to where she was, when, in a low tone, I told her the message sent by the young lady to her, 'to remember her mother's words, and what she herself had said to her.' She replied, 'Tell her I have made a vow, and it is registered in heaven—death before dishonor'. I returned to the hotel and gave the young lady the girl's reply. She was laying on the sofa, and her mother sitting beside her; she exclaimed, 'God will hear my prayers, mother, I know He will.'
"That was the last time I saw the slave girl until, some two or three years after, I met her and her mother on Broadway, in New York. I was walking when I met the two; but having never seen them but two or three times, and not expecting to meet them there, I did not know her. However, she at once knew me, and spoke to me. We went over and sat down in the Park, when she told me all her troubles. After her mother had been about a year in Texas, she came across a gentleman who knew her former master, but did not know he was dead. On hearing of his death, and her having been sold, he was very sorry, and told ​her he owed her former master three thousand dollars, and he would now take the money and try and purchase herself and daughter. She told him she had his note, as she had kept it, and never given it up, still thinking she might meet him some time. He bought her, and went down to New Orleans, when he found the girl had been bought by very cruel people; and as they could never make her contented or satisfied, they now regretted their bargain. He offered one thousand dollars for her, which her master took very readily: so he sent them immediately to New York, and then went up Red river to see if he could get the other daughter; but she was perfectly satisfied with her situation, and refused to leave. 'And now, my dear Iangy,' said she, 'I arrived in Boston in time to see my dear friend before her death; I was there just three weeks before she died, and when I went into the room, she started up, and, clasping her hands, cried, Mother, God has heard my prayers! Mother and I now both belong to the same church; we are free, soul and body.' This man who bought these women was born in the South, but spent a number of years in the North.
"I will now tell you another little incident of a lady who lived in Louisville, and had a slave girl hired, who saw and knew a great deal of her chaste conduct. She feared she would tell her husband or some of his friends of her conduct; so she told her master many tales on her, and got him to sell her to a man who would take her far away from her native land. There was a hair-dresser in New Orleans who was sold five different times, for a thousand dollars each time, and, by each of her owners, promised her freedom ​whenever she had made the thousand dollars and given it to them. Incited by the hope of being free, she worked hard; but as soon as she had paid eight or nine hundred dollars to her master, he would sell her to some one else, who would make the same promise, and then break it in the same shameful manner. At length the girl became so exasperated by her many grievous disappointments, that she lost her reason, and is now a lunatic. Her name was Louise. She was well known to those who stopped at the St. Charles and St. Louis.
"I will now tell you of a gentleman, who lived in Louisiana, who had a housekeeper and two daughters. He sent his daughters to Oberlin to school, and took a house there for his housekeeper to be with them. On going there, the Oberlin people would not let him stay unless he married the housekeeper. He did marry her, and settled a great deal of property on her and her daughters. In a short time he went to England, and on his return he brought her a magnificent English carriage; her house is in keeping with her carriage—elegant, indeed. It was whispered by some that he would not dare go back South; but he did go back, staid there awhile, disposed of his property, and returned to his wife. His daughters were mulattoes, and his wife was very dark.
"Now, madam, I need not tell you anything more. I have shown you the dark and the fair sides of the South. Were I to tell you one-half what I know, it would take me every moment of a week."
Miss ———, when rising to leave, said, "I have been much interested by what you have told me; say nothing of our meeting; I will give you my card, and come to see me in New York."
​Many years ago I was nursing for Mrs. W———, at the Broadway Hotel. My charge was a little girl, who has since grown up an elegant, accomplished and beautiful young lady—an ornament to society, and also the city that gave her birth. While nursing there, I was one night sent out for some coal—as Mrs. W. did not only mind her children by day, but during the night, to see to their comfort. It was about two o'clock. The coal was kept in a closet under the stairway While there, I heard a noise in the hall, which alarmed me very much, and on looking out I saw three gentlemen, stepping about very softly. I thought they were robbers, and went into the closet and closed the door.
Presently I heard the voice of a female, when, getting over my fright, I opened the door and went out. Immediately a woman, running out, caught hold of me, and asked me to save her. I asked her what was the matter, when she said those men meant to kill her. She clung to me, and came with, me to my lady's door, when I left her and took in the coal—telling my lady of the matter, and saying I would go back and stay an hour or so with her, which my lady permitted me to do.
I found her to be a Mrs. ———, from Maine. She was of medium hight, had beautiful, wavy chesnut hair, and showed every appearance of having been well raised and of good family. After much persuasion, I got her to her room. She would let no one near her but me, and I sat down on the floor, took her on my lap, and sung to her for six long hours, and by that means kept her quiet; but I was exhausted myself.
​About the seventh hour she got outrageous again. Her husband and some gentlemen friends were in the next room, fearing she would become unmanageable and I might require their assistance; but not so, as I found in her greatest rage I could manage her. She raved throughout the whole day, but toward night became a little more calm; then nothing would do but I must go to bed. Thinking I was asleep, she took a light and held it to my face, then she got a pair of stockings, pulled them on my feet, and decorated my head with blue ribbons; she then locked the door, took out the key and put it in her bosom; then coming to the bed, she again looked at me, and still thinking me asleep, gently opened the window. I now sprang to my feet and asked her what she was going to do. She said she was going out. I told her she should not do so, when she again got into one of her most ungovernable fits.
I was afraid I could not manage her and called for assistance, but no one could get in as the door was locked and the key in her bosom. I had at length to throw her down and take the key from her and throw it over the door top, when her husband got it, opened the door and came in: it was then about twelve o'clock at night and she raged till twelve the next day.
Her husband and the doctor went out and procured a furnished house. The family owning it had left for the south, and they took the house, thinking they could manage her better by having her quiet and still.
I went with her to the house, and her husband employed another woman to assist me in taking care of her. I staid with her all the day and about eleven o'clock at night I went to bed feeling perfectly ​exhausted and wearied out, leaving the woman and her husband to take care of her. I suppose I had been in bed and asleep about an hour when I was startled by hearing "Iangy, Iangy," called in tones of terror and dismay, and a very sudden loud knocking at my door.
I sprang to the floor but was so frightened and bewildered for a few moments I could scarcely get my senses together. At length I distinguished the voice of Mr. W calling on me. In a great hurry, I ran down the stairs and found the piano upset, all the bed clothes and the bed on the floor, and the woman madly dancing on the slats of the bedstead.
I called to her in a stern voice, and asked her what she was doing. She leaped down off the bed when she heard my voice and, throwing herself on my neck, told me they had been trying to kill her all the time I was gone, and that I must not leave her again. She raved till the morning, when I got her quiet and put her to bed. I was sitting beside her, while she was lying there, when some ladies came in to inquire after her health. Thinking she was asleep they sat down and began to question me; among other questions they asked me if I was not afraid of her. Before I had time to reply she started up and said, in a furious voice, "And what if she is, is that your business?" The ladies were so frightened they ran out of the room as quick as they could. She then turned to me and said, quite playfully, "Did I not do that well, Iangy?" Their hopes of her getting better were not verified; she continued to get worse until they heard of a vacancy in the Asylum at Columbus, when they at once made arrangements to have her taken there.
There were three of us in the carriage; the woman, ​her husband and myself. She laid the whole day on my lap, but had some dreadful fits of insanity She took my bonnet off my head and put it down in the bottom of the carriage for a spit box, while I had to go on to Columbus bonnetless.
On reaching Columbus we put up at the Neil House, and after taking her to a room, I left her to get some things out of the carriage; I had not been gone but a few moments when I heard the woman screaming for me at the top of her voice. I ran up the stairs and found her taking down all the pictures and the mirror from the wall. I succeeded, in my old way, in quieting her again, and got her laid gently on the bed. In her worst fits I could quiet her by singing.
While, laying in the bed she said to me, "Iangy, I am not mad now, I am only crazy; when I get in my mad fits don't let me hurt you." She sometimes was very ferocious, and gave me some severe blows.
She now gave me a short history of her life and what made her crazy She said she was a native of Maine and married this gentleman against her parents wish, he took her to a hotel in New York and she was there for some time, until his friends thought he was making too much of a lady of her. They kept talking to him until he at length went to housekeeping, and then two or three of his family came and lived with her, and were very ugly to her, even in her own house. Then her husband got to staying out at night. Often, while she would be at the window looking out for him, her hair was wet through with the dew of night. She also told me if she ever got married again she would never have an old maid or a widow living with her; for one day, having finished her dinner ​before her husband, she left the table; on going through the hall she saw a note in her husband's hat which she found, upon reading, was from the seamstress, then in her employ, appointing the time and place for a private meeting.
She had not finished her history till she again got into one of her mad fits. I told her husband what she had said, but he told me there was no truth in her story, it was only a freak of her fancy.
The carriage was ordered, and we went to the asylum. On reaching there we heard screaming and shouting; some preaching, some praying, some blaspheming. She at once said: "Oh, Iangy, this is the mad-house, and they are going to put me in," and she became, apparently, as well as she ever was in her life, and was perfectly calm and collected. On reaching the door two physicians came out; she took an arm of each and walked in. On getting to the top of the stairs she turned back and looked at me and bowed her head. I burst into heartfelt tears, and I assure you I wept freely. I never shall forget her look, should I live a century.
I have several times, during my narrative, mentioned dressing in Cincinnati, or its immediate neighborhood, one hundred and fifty brides. Many of them were very lovely, but none more so than the tenth that I dressed; she was, indeed, a beautiful creature, and was as lovely in her disposition as in her appearance. She and her husband were universally beloved, not only in Cincinnati, but wherever they chanced to go. Their wedding was one of the largest ever witnessed in this city—there having been nearly a thousand invitations sent out—and a gay and brilliant party it ​was. The bride's dress was very rich and elegant—she wore but a single ornament—a magnificent diamond cross, which had been presented to her a few moments before her marriage. There were two tables filled with elegant and costly presents. It has been my privilege to show the presents of many brides, but never have I exhibited any with the same pleasure and gratification that I did these, on account of the respect and love I felt for the parties.
Some few years after this marriage I was called on to comb the grandmother of the groom for her golden wedding. One of her bridesmaids was there also, and heartily did the two old ladies laugh at the idea of having their hair dressed, as in the olden times, when they were married, hair-dressers were unknown and unthought of.
Never again, do I expect to witness in this city, or perhaps anywhere, such a scene as I saw that night. There was an immense number assembled; old and young and middle aged and all, seemed full of happiness. Tables were set in two large rooms that opened into each other; they were elegantly and beautifully spread, filled with every delicacy, and all kinds of wine. In the parlor, which is so immense it is seldom or never used except on such occasions, I noticed a painting representing Hamlet and Othello; the figures were as large as life. This painting, which occupies one whole side of a room, was beautifully decorated with evergreens.
On entering the house, you come into a large square hall, the walls of which are painted with beautiful scenery. On one side of this hall is the private parlor, where are all the family portraits, and numbers of ​other costly and elegant paintings. On either side of the mantle is a large ornamented case filled with all kinds of shells, geological specimens, and in fact, everything rare and beautiful.
You might spend many days in going over this house and the grounds, and always find many things to attract your attention. Although the house is situated in the most fashionable part of the city, the enclosure contains twelve or fifteen acres. You can there find rare flowers and fruits from every clime. While wandering through these grounds one can scarcely believe he is in the heart of a great city. Here are three or four handsome green houses; a large fish pond, with a fountain continually playing in it; a gardener's house; a warren for rabbits; a house for pigeons, and one for bees; and if you descend along that graveled walk, lined on each side with wild flowers, you will come to a large vineyard of the choicest kinds of grapes.
Strangers are allowed the privilege of walking through these grounds and looking in the green houses. With all his wealth so unassuming is Mr. L. that after he has shown strangers through the grounds, I have known them when leaving to offer him money for his trouble, little thinking that plain and unassuming man was the owner of the magnificent place they had been admiring, and the wealthiest man in the west.
On my going early to work one December morning, I saw a great crowd collected on the corner of Fourth and Elm. On coming to the place, I found the boys had taken possession of their usual winter pleasure grounds. The driver of a soap-cart had presumed to intrude upon their grounds, and a number of the boys ​fastened their sleds on to the old man's cart, while others were pelting him with snow balls' till in a short time you could not tell him from a snow ball that the boys often make and set up for a show. During the season of the snow and ice the boys have three streets to themselves, from Fourth to Columbia, on Race, Elm and Plum. On these streets, when there is any snow, it is very dangerous for carriages or teams to pass; that is, when the boys have made up their minds to keep the track for their sleds. I have seen sleds of all sizes, from those that would hold one or two, to those that would carry twenty-five, going down these streets. Sometimes there are as many as two or three hundred at a time. Persons of all ranks and denominations will stand and look on to see the boys enjoy the sport. The boys, during this season, are perfectly united, they will not suffer any one to be imposed on; it is the only time you will find among children all prejudice cast aside. All sizes and ages, nations and ranks, are here collected together, and all are on a footing of equality; the ragged and neat, rich and poor children go down on the same sled.
Going on a little farther, I found the boys had made a slide opposite the church; I slipped on it, and down I went. The little ones enjoyed it very much, to see a big woman fall down on their sliding place, not breaking any bones. I got up and went on to my work, for notwitstanding the pavements were one sheet of ice, the ladies were determined to be dressed for a party that was to be given in the west end.
This was the first party given by this west end lady. Some of them thought the east end ladies would not go, and as they did not wish to go if the east end ladies ​did not, they discarded their beaux and decided on not going. One lady in particular, who was very gay, I usually dressed late, and I went to her at ten o'clock, and she began to regret that she had discarded her beau, as she could not now go to the party. I told her I would take her. She said it was so slippery she was afraid to walk, and her coachman was, away. She had never walked to a party and did not know what to do. I told her if she would not fall I would would not; and away we both started, in spite of the sleet and rain. I never saw such a rainy, sleety evening in my life, but we got there safely, when I gave her up to her friends and beaux, and she enjoyed herself just as much as if she had gone in her carriage.
I can not refrain from telling you a circumstance that occurred with some young ladies, as young ladies like their fun as well as those little boys I have mentioned enjoyed their sled rides. I was crossing the Alleghany mountains, in company with some young ladies, their fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters; the party was so numerous they had chartered a stage. At night we stopped at a house on the mountains where travelers usually stopped, and this night the house happened to be full. The most mischievous of these young ladies was an heiress. When the travelers' boots were put outside their doors to be cleaned, this young lady changed them. She would take a large boot from one door and put a small one with it, and so on, all over the house; then she made me get her some dough and she put that in the toes of some of the boots. In the morning when the horns were blowing for the up and down passengers, they would rush out already dressed and ​commence pulling on their boots; then there was a terrible swearing and pitching, ripping and tearing. Of course, such a dignified set as I was with, never would be suspected.
On one occasion I traveled with the same party on a canal boat; when night drew on, this same young lady said, "Iangy, we must have some fun as the people's faces are too long. Two hundred passengers, and nothing going on, this will never do." All my readers who have traveled on a canal boat know, that only a curtain separates the ladies from the gentlemen. The berths were generally swinging. The young lady having a sharp pen-knife for her own use, secured her brother's before he retired, and gave it to me. We moved the curtain a little bit, and sawed and cut the rope of the upper berth till it was almost cut through. A very portly old gentleman took possession of the berth, and he had just turned himself over, when down he came with a most terrible crash, berth and all falling on a very small man, who was in the berth below him, and away they rolled into the ladies' cabin.
Most of the ladies there had been asleep; being awakened by the noise, they were terribly frightened, and screamed dreadfully; this young lady screamed as loud or even louder than the rest, as if just awaking; while the little man called out he was killed, and the portly old gentleman was trying to make apologies to the ladies for frightening them.
It was altogether a laughable scene. At last the captain and chambermaid came, and the gentlemen rated them soundly for having such insecure ropes. The captain said, since he had been a captain, there ​had no such accident occurred before. The whole boat was in excitement, and convulsed with laughter.
I was at one time called on to comb three brides in one day, and the peculiarity of it was, they were in three distinct circles. One was of the higher order, the other in the gay second circle, and the third was the daughter of a mechanic. Should I be asked which of these I admired the most, first, second or third, I could hardly tell. The first was plainly, but elegantly attired, she lives in a princely mansion, and the guests were those I have been in the habit of working for, and been with since I have been in the city. The second was very gay, everything elaborate, the company quite gay, some very refined, some not so much so; I found persons there of every order. When I came to my third little bride, I found her very plain, but very intelligent. The house was plain, but was very neatly furnished; the front room, where she was married, was carpeted with a very neat three-ply carpet, on the walls hung the family pictures, and on the center table were books of all kinds, by which any one would know our little bride had applied herself well to her studies—and there was also, in the parlor, a piano, with some very choice and difficult pieces of music. In the next room, which was their dining-room, was a very neat home-made carpet and everything else was neat and nice. I went on to the kitchen; the tins on the wall looked like silver, and the floor was as white as a floor could be made. I did not know there could be so clean a house as that, in our smoky town. Though this lady was raised in this little spot, she now lives in a three story brick of her ​own; and instead of remaining in one position, she is always going higher.
The following week I was called on to go seven miles above Covington Ky., to comb a bride there. When I was sent for I had a previous engagement, but promised, if they could bring me home again by seven in the evening, I would go. So when they sent a carriage and fast horses, I went; and I must confess, I was a good deal disappointed, for I expected to find it about such a place as I once went to about eleven miles above Covington.
Some few years ago some ladies called on me in a very elegant carriage, engaged me to go there and comb and shampoo their heads. On my arriving at the place, I found the grounds and the house itself in a sad, reckless state; the grounds seemed as if at one time there might have been a fence around them, as there was here and there a picket, while in the house there were bare floors. Silver goblets were scattered here and there. At one end of the room was a piano, but there were no curtains to the windows. It was altogether a peculiar place. From the conversation of the ladies, I found they had received but a limited education. When they engaged me, I thought it strange they should give me such a high price merely to shampoo their heads, but when I got there, I found one of them was to be married, and I was more than astonished to see three such elegant looking ladies, and two such elegant gentlemen in so queer a place. While the ladies were getting ready for me, I walked round a little, and on coming to the dairy, I found three or four little boys, black and white, with long straws poked in through the crevices or holes in the ​walls of the dairy, and then in the pans of cream and milk, bnsy sucking it. I took a good laugh at them and then went on to a kind of old shanty, where I heard the noise of fiddles and banjoes.
In here were several old men laughing and talking over the fun they anticipated to have at night. One of them said to me, "Lor', child, just you stay over here to night and see the fun. I played my banjo at the wedding of this child's grandmother and her mother, and now I'm gwine to play for herself and husband that-is-to-be; he says he will take me to Ohio State and set me free."
I said, "Uncle, you will be too old; you won't be able to earn your living." His answer was, "Lor', child, I will die free, any how."
While I was talking to the old man, there was a scream from the house for uncle Bob, as if the whole place was on fire, or some other dreadful occurrence had happened; I started to see what was wrong, when I found the little boys, tired of drinking the cream through their straws, had turned off the cider barrel, which was placed on the porch, and surrounded by old fashioned jugs of old Bourbon, and the best brandy. The boys not daring to drink so much of the cider as they did of the milk, turned it off to see the fun, and before they were found out, had the barrel nearly left empty. I asked one of the little urchins what they did it for. He told me they were promised they should have all sorts of fun when Ann was married, and he says, sure, that is fun.
I then went to my work, and promised when I was through dressing their hair, I would set the table for them. After combing them, I went to get the things ​in readiness for the table, and found, to my surprise, and I must say, amusement, that the best and only large table-cloth they had, the boys had taken and cut up into strips, to tie on the cows' horns, and the horses' heads for flags; so that all the animals about the house, were running around with white flags on their heads.
The old woman was crying, and did not know what to do, while the old man ran out in a rage, and caught the little white boys by the hair and gave them a good pulling; but the little blacks, from their hair never having been combed or attended to, had nothing to pull, so they slipped through his fingers and off to the orchard, while I got some sheets and sewed them together so as to make a table-cloth, and commenced to set the table. Before I got through, the parson came: so they concluded to get married and send the parson away before the frolic began. It was then about six o'clock. While the parson was performing the ceremony, to the great surprise of all—as the boys had faithfully promised to behave themselves—the door was suddenly thrown open, and in rushed a large pig, grunting and squealing as only pigs can. The boys had pulled out the bristles, and then rubbed the sores with brandy—by that means making the creature mad with pain; then they opened the door and, while the parson was in the very act of performing the ceremony, they turned him right into the room. For a moment every one ran round, trying to get the pig out, but could not manage it, and at last they had to let him stay there while the parson went on; but every time the parson would begin, the pig would again commence squealing. The bride and groom both ​roared and laughed, and even the parson could not contain his laughter. As for myself, I have witnessed scenes in America, England and France; but I never saw anything, before or since, so ludicrous as was that scene. The parson, however, at last succeeded in joining the happy couple, and after partaking of refreshments, and, I expect, being well paid too, left.
After I had finished setting the table, I asked them to have me sent home, and they did so. Had I not received anything, I would have considered myself well paid by the scenes I witnessed there; but on leaving I was paid doubly, I may say trebly, more than I expected.
It was to such a place as I have described I expected to go when I consented to comb this other bride; but I was agreeably disappointed when, on reaching the place, I found everything in front of the house passable; the grounds around the house were extensive, and in pretty good order; the house itself was an ordinary-looking building, and had apparently been built for many years. The two parlors were neat and plain; they were lighted up in the old style of illuminations—candles, in little sockets, stuck here and there. The bride's room was furnished plainly, and, though it was in the spring of the year, a bright wood fire was burning on the hearth, on the old-fashioned iron andirons. Though the house was nothing compared with those I had been in the habit of visiting, it had to me a quaint, cheerful, country look, that reconciled me to its want of ornament. The appearance of the ladies was not in keeping with the house, as their dresses were rich and elegant. The bride's dress was silk, of the latest style; illusion vail, ​fastened on with a wreath of orange buds; her bridemaids were dressed in keeping, while her aunt had on a rich black velvet, with angel's wings of black lace. Occasionally were seen two or three slaves moving about through the house; there being no more, was owing to there having ten or twelve ran off from them a month or so before, over the bridge erected by a special Providence for them. That season there were two or three hundred crossed over on the ice to the land of liberty.
Some few weeks passed, and it was rumored that Mrs. Colonel H. was going to give a party; every one expecting an invitation, had their dresses ordered beforehand, as all wished to go to her parties on account of the elegance with which they were conducted. Before the invitations were issued, those who were doubtful of getting invitations, when they would meet me on the street, would ask, "Oh, Iangy, am I invited?" "Do you know whether I will have an invitation?" or, "Oh, how I wish I was going—I would so like to be there;" and such like, knowing I generally knew the different circles, and who would and who would not be invited; they did not like to ask me to try and get them invitations, but, by repeating, "I wish I were going; I would give anything to go," they, as plainly as they could, hinted it to me. I have obtained many invitations for ladies to large parties, where they would not for one instant think of asking them had it not been for my request, as I work for a great many of those who give large parties, and they know I would not ask for any one unless I knew them to be ladies, both in manners and principle.
The hostess at these large parties receives many ​ladies that are not on visiting terms with her, or that she would not even know were she to meet them on the street. Many ladies would be entirely forgotten but for me, as, many times, at the issuing of invitations, I have been asked by the hostess, "Iangy, do you know any one I have forgotten?" when I would call over some names; it may be all had been forgotten, but then they received their invitations. I will now tell you how I got an invitation for a young lady of this city, to the party of one of our grandest places in the city. I went to the hostess and asked her to do me a favor; she inquired what it was. I asked her to promise me she would do it; she said she would if possible. I said she could easily. "Well, then," said she, "you may consider it done; now, what is it?" "When she had promised, I knew she would do it, no matter what it might be; so I told her I desired that she would extend an invitation to a young lady I knew, who was of good family, and in every respect worthy, but did not go out much in society; and I knew if she invited her to her parties, she would then be sought after by every one. She said she would do so willingly, and she called on the young lady and left her an invitation for the ball. On going to comb the lady, it was amusing to hear her express herself, and wonder about the lady inviting her to her party. She said, "Oh, Iangy, such a lady has called on me, and asked me to her party; I expect it is through Mrs. or Mr. So-and-So"—when I knew I was the person, and the only one, but did not commit myself even by a look.
I will now explain a little circumstance that occurred between a lady and myself; she was a lady, ​indeed, and I worked for her a number of years; she moved in the second circle, but never had got into the first. One of the ladies of the first circle was about to give a large party, when I went to her and asked if she would not give this lady an invitation to the party. She gave me the invitation, which I carried myself and left at the door, thinking she would be happy and proud of the honor—but, of course, thinking she would know too much of the etiquette of good society to go when the hostess had not visited her personally before the party; but she did go, and seemed to enjoy herself very much. After combing her, a few weeks after, I saw a great change in her; she had given up talking of her own circle, and her whole talk was of the ladies of the upper circle—Mrs. So-and-So that she had so recently met. By much dashing and elegance, she at last got on intimate terms with a lady who had not been very long in the circle herself, and who was no friend of mine. She quite poisoned the mind of this lady against me, though I was the first one who ever got her into the position she then occupied.
I promised to give you a little description of Mrs. H———'s grand ball—and a grand affair it was. Her house is a large double one, with a very large hall; on one side of this hall is a large double parlor, which has window-hangings of crimson and lace, and two extensive mirrors, together with mantle ornaments and pictures, the most beautiful ever imported from foreign lands. On the other side is a reception-room, of blue and gold; her dining-room is purple and gold; these two rooms are hung with very appropriate pictures; there is a painting of the Empress there, and of many of the old Kings and Queens, together with many ​pictures of royal families. On the second floor were five elegant rooms thrown open—a gentleman's smoking-room and dressing-room, and two dressing-rooms for the ladies; the fifth was a coffee-room. A great deal of beauty and elegance was displayed on that night. As for the hostess, she is the most queenly lady in our city. Among her guests were several belles. These grand entertainments she generally gives once or twice a year.
I will now give you a description of a calico ball, which was given a few winters ago by one of our first ladies. I had often heard of calico balls, but was never fortunate enough to be at one before. It created quite an excitement through the city; those who were going were in a state of excitement about what they would wear, and those who were not were continually talking about what they would have worn if they had been invited. The hostess wore a dark chintz, very plain and neat; her sister-in-law wore a rich colored chintz, with a very long train, its figures representing clusters of roses; it resembled a very old fashioned brocade; her costume altogether was after the old style of Madame Pompadour. Mrs.——— wore a dress with delicate blue stripes, made with all the simplicity of a school girl. Mrs. Colonel H———'s dress very much resembled that of the hostess's sister; her coiffure was of the old style of Madame Pompadour. Many of the dresses at a little distance, looked like the most elegant brocade. One lady, a Miss R. wore a corn colored dress, her head-dress and bosom piece were composed of pop-corn. Among the rest was a party of ladies who all wore bright crimson dresses. Mrs. P———'s dress was a plain, red oil calico, with ​black side stripes; she is well known as the authoress of "Belle Smith Abroad." The most beautiful scene of the evening was a quadrille, danced by four ladies, dressed in the style of the olden times. Mrs F———'s train was held by her nephew while she glided through the dance. The whole house was thrown open and I assure you every one enjoyed themselves very much. There came to my house one day, a very nice looking gentleman, who told me he wanted to engage me to go to a lady's house to comb her for her marriage. I agreed to go in the evening. To my surprise, while I was engaged with the lady, the gentleman who had come for me came into the room and gave orders about the dressing of his sister's hair, and also the bride's. I found he was the groom, and that not only had he given orders about the dressing of her hair, but had ordered her dress altogether; it was a heavy brocaded tan colored silk with a long vail of illusion, with a wreath of choice flowers. There were several children about the house, who made a great deal of noise, crying and yelling. The lady was very uneasy and restless in her movements, and apparently much annoyed, but I could not tell the reason until she was dressed and the guests were beginning to arrive; when I found she feared the children's guardian would interfere with her marriage. As there was no one there to receive the company the groom came up and wished her to go down and receive the company, saying that when the clergyman came she could come up stairs again; put on her vail, go down and be married; but I advised her to do no such thing; to let the guests receive themselves. It certainly was amusing to see the groom introduce his company, clergyman and all, ​to the bride. Just as the lady was going down stairs to be married, a servant rushed up and said that her guardian was there. For a moment she appeared quite alarmed to hear of his arrival. She trembled, and the color forsook her cheeks; but soon recovering herself, she said, "He will not dare say anything to me, and if he does I will pay no attention to him." She went down and when they were pronounced man and wife the groom was perfectly delighted, as all New England men are when they think they have made a good "spec."
The house was very handsome and was beautifully furnished; it reminded me of the palace of beauty and the beast; the palace was perfectly elegant, all it wanted was beauty to grace it.
I remember hearing of a wedding which, although it did not take place in Cincinnati, will be recollected by many here. While in Saratoga I was combing a lady who remarked to me, "I have a school acquaintance who is going to be married to a gentleman from the neighborhood of your city. Her mother was at first very much opposed to the marriage but is now somewhat reconciled to it." She mentioned his name. I told her "I had heard of such a gentleman, but did not know him, as he did not visit in the circle that I worked for." She laughed and told me the circumstances.
"He courted the young lady in the Queen City, and determined on following her home and asking her mother for her. The old lady did not like this gentleman, and her daughter being already engaged to a gentleman, though not so wealthy as this one professed to be, decided on opposing the match; but the young ​western gentleman, before he went, bought a thousand dollar carriage and a pair of fine horses and drove up to the house in style. The old lady looked out of her window and seeing the line carriage, while he was alighting and coming in, changed her mind and said, 'Yes.' I am acquainted with the young gentleman who, it was rumored, the young lady was engaged to; and he and his family were very much grieved at his disappointment. They are to be married in a short time, when her mother is to give up her boarding house and all go to the west to live and dash about in great style. I think some of coming to your Queen City to see the wealthy beaux, and try to get a fortune for myself."
The eastern ladies think there is a great deal of wealth out west and they wish to come and take part. I often laugh at them when they come to Cincinnati, as after dashing around a little they find the people are not so green, nor are wealthy husbands so easily picked up as they think for. I have often seen ladies from New York, who moved in a preety good circle at home, struck with perfect astonishment on entering some of our parlors here. It amused me, during the railroad convention here, to observe some of the ladies who had invitations to the parties of our best families. On their entering the parlors they could not suppress their astonishment at the elegance of the surroundings, but so plainly showed their amazement that both hostess and guests saw it plainly. One lady, in particular, I combed in the Burnet House, and advised her to have an elegant head-dress, as I told her she would see some elegant ladies where, she was going. She laughed at me, and said if she was in New York she ​would, but did not think it worth while to take so much trouble for a party in Cincinnati.
The next day on my going to comb her she was very much mortified, and told me if she had known the Cincinnati ladies dressed so well, she would have bought the head-dress; however, she said, if there were more handsomely dressed ladies at the party, there was no one there any prettier than herself. I told her she did not see our prettiest ladies, for some of them are in mourning, and the others are out of town.
While I was combing her, two ladies came to visit her, from the west end, that I was not in the habit of combing. One of these ladies who knew me only by reputation, had heard of my former name, but not my marriage name, so after watching me comb the lady, she said, "I like your combing very much; I do not like Iangy, though I have never seen her, they say she is so cross and proud: but I think you and I would get along, will you comb me?" and she gave me her name and number. I readily consented to go, more from curiosity than profit. The first day I went, she talked very hard of Iangy, and after I had combed her, she engaged me for a week. I did not care much to go, as I did not work in that part of the city more than twice a week, but as I said before, I went out of curiosity. During my combing her, she said, "I would like to have Iangy comb me once or twice. Some think she is a good hair-dresser, and others again don't like her, but I am sure she can not comb any better than you can, for I have had my hair combed, north and south, but have never had it put up better than by you; moreover, they say Iangy charges too high a price, I don't know why she ​should." "Madam," I replied, "I suppose Iangy has combed so long, that now she is getting old, and has a certain price; those who will give her this price she combs for, and those who will not, she won't comb."
"But that need not make her so cross, or so hateful as they say she is."
"Madam, hair-dressers have a great deal more to contend with than ladies know anything about. All ladies are not alike, any more than working people, they should be more charitable toward Iangy, for she has been with them all her life, and like a child with its nurse, she has imbibed something of their disposition."
"I would like to see Iangy," said the lady, "and as I intend giving a party for children next week, I will send for her to come and take charge of the little ones."
"I don't think she will come," said I, for she will not have herself annoyed by them."
The lady then said she would try the next day, as she had a particular friend whom Iangy had been combing for some time, "and," she continued, "this friend and two or three others, are coming to-morrow to see you comb. I have said so much about your combing, that this lady says she would like to see one who can be compared with Iangy."
I went home feeling a little annoyed that I had deceived the lady two weeks, combing her merely to gratify my curiosity to find out what she had to say about Iangy. On the following morning, I got through my work as soon as possible, and went to my friends in the West End to see those ladies that ​Iangy combed. I got there before they did, and found a neighboring lady there with her. She sat before the glass while I was combing her, and hearing a slight noise at the door, I glanced in the mirror, and saw somebody peeping in, then the door was shut, and I heard their foot steps going down stairs. In a few moments the servant came up and requested her to go down to the parlor, as there was a lady there who wanted to see her.
She excused herself to me and went. After a little, she came up again; she was perfectly colorless, and evidently out of humor. After sitting down and trying to compose herself, she said, "Why, you are Iangy. What is the reason you deceived me so?" I told her, "Madam, the reason I did so, was because I found you inclined to speak harshly of one you had never seen, but only knew from the report of others."
At this moment two ladies came up stairs that I knew, and after asking me, laughingly, what game I had been playing with their friend, commenced talking about different persons. At last mentioning a certain lady's name, they asked if I combed her, I told them no, I did not, as I combed none but ladies. They then wanted to know what I thought constituted a lady. Laying down my work, I rose to my feet and said, "Ladies, I can not tell you what I think constitutes a lady, and keep my seat. I must get up. I do not think all those are ladies who sit in high places, or those who drive round in tine carriages, but those only are worthy the name who can trace back their generations without stain, honest and respectable, that love and fear God, and treat all creatures as they merit, regardless of nations, stations or wealth. These are what I ​say constitute a lady, not those who would move out of one neighborhood into another for the sake of society, crowding into high circles, making themselves the veriest toadies for the sake of society; they merely put themselves out of society trying to get into it, for their old friends will have nothing to do with them, and the new circle they try to get into are disgusted with them. I do not call those ladies who drive around, call on ladies, and invite them to their parties without knowing them. I have frequently been asked who is such-and-such a lady as I have been invited to a party to her house."
I saw the ladies were getting very uneasy and restless under my sarcastic remarks, and one of them, a lady I had worked for for some years, I thought a great deal of, now said, "Iangy, you are too much excited, you don't know what you are saying." I remarked to her, "Excuse me, madam, I do know what I am saying, and want you all to hear me—you all laid a plan to come here to-day and have some fun, and I am determined you shall have enough of it; if you want fun, I will furnish the material. I will now tell you of some ladies—I will not name them as you know who I mean—who left the neighborhood in which they were residing, and went to another, for the purpose of getting into a higher circle, but they failed, and then left there and then went to still another, and are now in the neighborhood of the highest circle in our city, and I think they will remain there till they exhaust their means, before they get an entree to the higher circle.
"Now you know my principles and my feelings, and know what I call a lady. I do not appreciate ​those ladies who employ me simply because other ladies employ me. I like to work for a lady who puts confidence in me, and treats me accordingly as I merit. I have had ladies come to me and give me double price, not because they had any respect for me, but merely to have it to say they had Iangy to dress their heads, who dressed the hair of Mrs. So-and-So.
"There are numbers of ladies you must flatter all the time you are dressing them, by saying they are much handsomer than others; or, if they happen not to be in the higher circle, you must make out as if you thought they were, as their chief talk is their acquaintance with Mrs. So-and-So; but I can not do that, for I can not flatter anybody; I would sooner die than do so. I have known ladies who, having wealth and a reasonable position in society, were so anxious to get into a circle they considered a little higher than that they occupied, they would crouch and bend, wire in and out, to get in, and often would go to people they had no acquaintance or business with, and tell them something they had heard, for the purpose of speaking to them.
"Affairs in our Queen City are not managed as they used to be; for I remember the time when a lady would never for a moment think of speaking disparagingly of another in any way; but now the ladies have got a habit of talking about others to make themselves grand; they pick to pieces and talk about every lady they know; some will talk to their hair-dresser, and some to their milliner or dressmaker, about Mrs. or Miss This-or-That, and pick her to pieces. There can not the slightest thing occur among a certain set, either in their own family or among others, but ​whoever works for them must know—more particularly their hair-dresser; but there is a certain set above all such things, and I am happy to say I work for those in that set; and there are no tell-tales or slanderers there—no talk of what is said or done here or there; each one has something agreeable or pleasant to say. Now, ladies, I think I have said enough to let you know my opinion, and as I have other engagements to fulfill, I will bid you good morning," and I left.
One Sunday, as I was returning from church to my own home, a gentleman passed by in a carriage. I did not see him; but the next day, on going to my work, I met him; he stopped me and said, "Iangy, you dress too fine." I did not know what he meant, till he continued, "Your patrons will treat you as mine did me. One gentleman I had been in the habit of furnishing goods to, came to me and told me I lived in a finer house, dressed better, and drove a finer carriage than he did, and he was going to take his custom from me and give it to some person that was not so well off. I told him he might, and be blessed. So, Iangy, if you are not careful, your patrons will treat you in the same way."
I told him I worked for my patrons for their money, and when I earned and got it, I did not ask them how I should spend it, or anything else connected with it, what I should eat, drink or wear, or how I should dispose of my money. It remains a mystery to me, to this day, why he spoke to me in that manner; for he is a gentleman I can not accuse of being either envious or covetous.
Among the many strange occurrences of that time, I will tell one of a young gentleman of our city, who ​was boarding at one of the fashionable hotels. The ladies who were boarding at the same hotel, thinking he had plenty of money, were continually insisting on his giving them a party. After some time, he consented, when the invitations were issued, not only to those ladies who were at the hotel, but to many in the city and some from Newport. He then told the ladies his arrangements were made for a certain day. Music and supper were ordered. He went to the head waiter and arranged with him to have all the servants that waited on the table, put on white aprons, standing-collars, and the little fashionable cravat; also, that every dish on the table should be covered, and to have the covers all as bright as silver.
The evening came on. The ladies and gentlemen were seated in the parlor, waiting for the supposed Menter's Band, when in walked a tall, thin, colored man, with a fiddle, and commenced playing: the only tunes he could give them the whole evening were, "Auld Lang Syne" and "The Campbell's are Coming." The guests were very much disappointed, but in anticipation of a good supper they said nothing. After a merry dance, they were invited down to the supper-room, where they were all delighted with the appearance of things. A long table was set out; the waiters, with their white aprons and fashionable cravats, looked very neat, and the covers of the dishes glittered like burnished silver. After they were all seated in order, the covers were removed with as much ceremony as if the dishes contained all the luxuries and delicacies that could be procured: when, lo! there was nothing in them but crackers and cheese!
The gentleman arose and said: "Ladies and ​gentlemen, I know you did not come here to get a good supper—all you wished was to see me, to meet each other and enjoy yourselves." The guests did not know whether to get angry or to laugh it off. The proprietor of the hotel was quite provoked, as he had several daughters, and many of the guests were their intimate associates; so he concluded to make amends for their disappointment, and a few nights after, he gave them a fine party.
The ladies were still determined to make this young gentleman spend some of his money: so they commenced to tease him for a carriage ride. He agreed to do so, and went to one of our livery stables and ordered the oldest carriage they had; he wanted it strong, but did not care for looks. He secured the carriage, and drove up to the door. When the ladies came down they looked at the carriage, and hesitated, but, not wishing to offend him, they thought it best to get in. He had told the coachman to drive through the principal streets in the city, which he did; and their acquaintances who saw them riding in that queer-looking old vehicle, could not help laughing, which greatly mortified the young ladies, who concluded they could not make anything out of the gentleman, and gave it up in despair.
I will turn from these incidents to give you some of a more serious character. A slave, who had escaped from bondage, went to Canada, where, in a few years, he acquired some means. Being pretty comfortably situated, he was anxious to have his wife and children with him, and he engaged a white man to go for them. The latter found them, and, with his assistance, they succeeded in making their escape, and had ​proceeded some distance on their way to Canada, when they stopped for the night at the house of a preacher of the gospel. They were, seemingly, well received by him, and the next morning they went on their way. I have heard it asserted that this man betrayed them. Whether this be true or not, on their leaving his house in the morning they were so closely pursued by their owner, that the man had to fly to the woods, leaving the woman and children in the buggy. The master took possession of the woman and children, got in the buggy and speedily drove to the Ohio river, where he could easily cross over to Kentucky. While crossing, the woman, preferring death rather than slavery, jumped overboard into the river; it was with very great difficulty they rescued her from a watery grave.
After traveling a short time they reached Louisville, where he placed her in the jail, stripped her of every piece of her clothing, and whipped her till the blood ran from her neck to her heels. This he did more than once, in a jail where there were men, women and children, till at length a trader, who had numerous slaves in this jail, waiting for a boat to take them to New Orleans, put a stop to it. He had so much conscience left him he could not stand and see a woman whipped before so many men. Her master removed her from the jail to the work-house; the people belonging to the work-house thought she was a white woman, till he told them she was a slave. When they found out what she was, and saw the stripes on her back, they threatened if he came there to whip her, they would make a complaint to the civil authorities.
Many persons wished to buy her but he would not ​sell her lest she should fall into good hands, and it might be see her children again. He sent her down to Louisiana and had her put in the fields, where she would never see her children or hear from them again.
After she had been there some six months she gave birth to a child, and in three weeks after her mistress also gave birth to a child and died. She was then taken in the house to nurse her master's child. Finding her quite superior to what she was represented to be, and the child being devoted to her, he concluded to take her and his child to New York. When he arrived there he emancipated her and her child, and then gave her her choice to go to Canada or return with him. She preferred going back, hoping to see her children in passing through Louisville. She did get to see them, and then went back to Louisiana and staid with her master for some years till his child was old enough to go to school, when he took his child, this woman and her child and brought them himself to Canada. He gave her up to her husband, and kept his child at school in Toronto, so as to be near her that she could see to his welfare. "Did this man who treated her so cruelly have children?" "Yes, he had a numerous family, both sons and daughters, and I forbear calling his name at present on account of them."
There are few people can imagine the difference in society, in dress, in manner, appearance, and in fact everything in our Queen City in ten years. In 1850, there was a ball at the opening of the Burnet House. All our best citizens, church members, and our upper classes attended. There were two full bands of music and such a supper, I suppose, was never in a hotel, ​since all the old pioneers were there from all the surrounding cities and villages; Kentucky was well represented. Though the grandest affair that had been in Cincinnati, there was no dress there that exceeded in cost five hundred dollars, with the exception of Mrs. C., who wore diamonds valued at ten thousand dollars.
Since that time there has been a gradual increase of elegance until the opening ball of the Opera House, where there were more elegant dresses than had ever before been seen in Cincinnati. For the ball at the opening of the Opera House, like that at the Burnet House, I commenced dressing at seven in the morning and dressed till half past eleven at night. In that time I dressed twenty-seven ladies, and refused thirty-eight, not being able to attend them. I will now give you a description of a few of the dresses of those ladies who passed under my hands. One wore a gold colored silk, of unusual briliance, the skirt was plain and exceedingly full, with a train of half a yard, but sufficiently short in front to expose an exquisitely formed foot, encased in a silk gaiter, the precise shade of the dress; white point lace with buff crape pleatings formed the trimming for the drooping angel sleeves which were gracefully confined at the shoulder by a silk cord and tassel, displaying an elegant point lace undersleeve corresponding with the trimming of the neck, which was a la Pompadour, and long tassels which drooped gracefully upon the skirt from the waist and confined with white and scarlet ostrich feathers; the hair was arranged with ostrich feathers to match those of the bouquet de corsage, and corresponded with the statuesque appearance of the lady, which any queen might envy. Her opera cloak, which was ​occasionally worn on her arm, was composed of white cashmere and trimmed with red ermine. Another dress that attracted unusual attention, was a lavender silk double skirt, richly brocaded with silver snow drops, drooping in clusters upon each breadth of the upper skirt, (the under skirt being entirely plain,) the waist was high to the throat, with point d'Alencon lace collar, and sleeves trimmed with pink ribbon, enveloped in white tulle; pink ostrich feathers ornamented the hair; diamonds of rare brilliance were added to complete the toilet. Another lady wore a magnificent garnet velvet, made high in the throat, with tight sleeves to the wrist; white drooping feathers in her hair and diamonds in such profusion that they were estimated to have cost nearly twenty thousand dollars. Many other dresses I observed as magnificent as those I have described, but it is useless to enumerate them; almost all of the ladies had opera cloaks to match their dresses. A week or two after the great ball it was announced that the opera would commence, and then came another rush as great as for the ball, and I was as much occupied and amused combing for the one as for the other.
Notwithstanding a great many church members went to the ball, and could sit in the boxes till supper, then return to them again, they would not go to the opera, as there was a great green curtain to hoist up and down, which seemed to frighten many of them. This fear was not with all our first ladies, for large numbers of them did not go to either ball or opera on account of sickness or death in their families. I combed a great many ladies every day for two weeks, who did not profess to be in our first class circle, but ​I certainly found them possessing all the beauty and elegance any circle might require.
I went one day to comb a young lady in the house of her aunt. The aunt was terribly opposed to the opera and opera house and spoke very hard of the ball, but the young lady's father approved of the opera and ball too and took her to both. While I was combing the young lady the aunt came into the room, in a perfect rage with her cook, and said she would discharge her and prevent her getting another place, as she would not give her a recommendation. The young lady said: "Aunt you should give her a recommendation, for she is an elegant cook." She said she would not do it if she was to starve.
When the aunt left the room I asked the young lady if she did not think it much worse in her aunt to treat that poor woman, who has to work for a living, in that manner than to go to the opera. She replied, "Aunt has a very high temper, and when she is angry she says a great deal more than she means; she is very different from Papa—he looks very stern, but is very gentle, and thinks a long time before he speaks."
Then I told her I would rather work for ladies who will speak out what they have to say than for those mild, gentle ladies who can scarcely speak while in company. I had met many such ladies in my lifetime, one in particular, in this city, who, just by accident, drives her carriage through the lower parts of the city where lovers often walk, and occasionally she sees horses and buggies hitched where they should not be. These things come out and many people are injured by such reports and no trace can be followed up of where they originated.
​While we were talking, her aunt came in and asked me to comb her the next night, for the concert. I told her I hoped she would excuse me, but I had made a vow I would not comb any one for the concert who was too sanctimonious to go to the opera; that I would be pleased to comb her at any other time, but she must excuse me now. She wished to know if I positively refused to comb her; and when I told her I did, she said if I did not comb her, I should not comb her niece. I told her there were plenty of other hair-dressers, but she was so provoked, she went off and bought her a splendid bonnet to wear to the concert.
On my leaving, I told the young lady I was not coming back, so she said, if I did not go to her, she would come to me, so it would be all the same. On my reaching home, I found various orders for the next day for the concert. On going to the places, I would always ask if they were going to the opera; if they said no, I just walked out.
There were four ladies in one house where I called, two of them were very much in favor of the opera, while the others were opposed to it; before laying off my things, I asked the usual question, and the two replied they had been to the ball, and intended going to the opera, but had not yet been there. I said I would comb them. The others asked me, "and why will you not comb us." I told them I was actually afraid to comb any one that was so good that the sight of a green curtain frightened them, for such good people were unusual." They then wished to know what was my object in taking such a stand, whether I was over religions, or had no respect for Christianity at all. My reply was, "I have respect for religion, and ​for all denominations, and I try to do right to all creatures as far as I can. I have not forgotten when Camille was first played in this city, how some ladies blushed even at calling the name of Camille in their own parlors, and others said they would not go to the theater while Camille was played, and at the same time disguised themselves and went to see the plays.—Which did the greater evil, those who went openly and above board, or those who went in disguise? I leave that with you to judge. There were several ladies boarding at the Burnet House, who vowed and declared they would not go to see Camille, and by their remarks gave great offense to other ladies. Yet one of those very ladies was so anxious to see the play, she actually went to the theater disguised. Some of those self same ladies who would not go to see Camille, now go to the opera to see the play of Traviata; they ease their conscience by saying the music is so elegant. If it was such a sin to look on Camille, I do not think the music sufficient atonement.
I remember one evening in 1857 walking behind several gentlemen. The topic of conversation was the Opera House, some thought it would not be built; it would cost too much money; others seemed to think Cincinnati could not sustain such a place; some laughed at the very idea of it. There were five of them, and but one of the number was in favor of the house. The other four seemed to be very bitter in their remarks. It is really laughable to think I have combed the wife of one of the gentlemen who were so bitter against the opera, four nights out of the six, during the time the first troupe was in Cincinnati.
The building of the Opera House, gave employment ​to a great many men for a length of time, and when finished, every kind of makers had employment; dress makers, cap makers and cloak makers, and the dry goods merchant realized his profits in the increased demands for silks, satins, velvets, feathers, and flowers, and rich laces of every kind and texture.
I have combed many ladies for the opera who are christians, not only in profession, but in reality, and are as good ladies as ever belonged to any church. They did not think it any sin to go to the opera, or they would not have gone. These take conscience for their guide, they don't move with the mass for excitement; they go to please the eye and gratify the sense, and their conscience does not condemn them. Ladies, when in New Orleans, attend the opera, but while here, they condemn it. But, indeed, I don't wonder at their wishing to go in New Orleans, as it is a most beautiful sight to see the ladies at the opera there, to say nothing of the most enchanting music. The young ladies all dress in white, while the married ladies go in full ball costume. All have the most beautiful boquets. In the New Orleans opera house from the parquette to the highest tier, which is appointed to slaves, every one has a boquet, and the whole house is filled with the odor of flowers. There are boxes appointed to the beautiful quadroons, which New Orleans is famous for, and they are considered among the most beautiful women in the world.
In New Orleans all go to the opera, and to concerts to hear the music, and pay so much respect to both performers and audience, as to keep still and lady-like, during the performance.
Every city has its own mode of putting down those ​they think are getting along too fast. I will give you an instance. One morning I was going very early to comb a lady for her marriage, who was going off on the early train, and on passing along the street I saw hanging on the knob of a lady's door, an old dress, with needles, thimble, spools of cotton, scissors and everything belonging to a dress-maker. I made inquiry a few days after and heard it was done by a neighbor, who thought the lady had forgotten her mother's occupation, so that she might be reminded from what she had sprung. Then again there will be left at doors old shoes, old hats, cloaks, nails, pieces of iron and everything to remind those who are getting high in the world from what they sprung. In New Orleans I have known ladies go to mask balls and, under cover of their dominoes, say very disagreeable things, then fly home, change their dress and come back, leaving those they said the disagreeable things to, very unhappy. In some cities they write anonymous letters, saying in them all kinds of bitter things. I was stopping with a lady once in Louisville, who got one of these anonymous letters, and it caused her great uneasiness, but I am sure the writer felt more uneasiness for doing such a mean action than the lady who received it. I have seen many actions and deeds of this kind done by those who are in high life.
The opera continued a whole month every night, except Sunday. I am sure there must have been satisfaction given to all. The musical portion were satisfied with the music; others who did not care for the music went to show off their own elegance and see the elegance of others, and some went to see who went ​with Mrs. So and-so, and to observe things generally, so all were satisfied.
I was amused to hear ladies say, "I am not going to-night, but am going to-morrow night, when there will be a crowd," as if they went to see the crowd and not to hear the music. Those who did not care for the music were the very ones who wanted some of the scenes cut off. One day I was combing some ladies and heard them rail at the dancing in one of the scenes of Robert Le Diable. These same ladies I have frequently dressed to go with their whole families to see the Ravels. I said, "Ladies, have yon not gone yourselves and taken your whole families to see the Ravels?" They said, "Yes, but the Ravels were the Ravels, but we do not want dancing in the opera, that piece must come out, see if we don't have that part cut off." I laughed, and said to them, "I have never before heard of any one having an opera altered to suit themselves, but I will tell you one thing you can do, and ought to do, and that is, prevent little misses and masters from examining the different plots. I myself, the other day, saw some little ladies and gentlemen very busy in examining the plot of Don Juan, and I do think that is a little too far to go. I don't object to little people seeing the play and hearing the music, but I do think they should be prevented from examining such plots; that is, in my opinion, much worse than the dancing, and I do think in place of trying to raise a fuss, those who attend the opera should be perfectly satisfied with having such an elegant house as an ornament to our city and should give all praise to him through whose energy it was erected."