The New York herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1840-1920, 1859-11-15
The Last or tho Old B.aux Gone.

AuS Eas VNitu VI A~cW iOih hou % Poooh6
shock last week in hearing OF the death of Mr..
Frank Waddell, the Beau Nash of the chief
American spa, Saratoga Springs He was a
curious character, Waddell. and seemed to
belong to the era Of powdered wigs, dia-
mond shoe buckles, satin breeches, velvet
coats, rufles and highfown compliments,
rather than TO these practical days of
railways, telegraphs, rev0lvers and reaping
machines. He was the man to write sonnet
to lady's eyebrows, to concoct form Of
compliment week before the time came to
drop il in the ear Of some blushing belle or exu-
berant matron, who always said it was only
chat Waddeli," and he was $50 foolish;" but
still they liked 1t, and he was always welcome
in his great field, the drawing room. He
WAS poet, too-a troubador, Sir
Sir John Sucking for the United States Hotel
at Saratoga. Although often urged to give his
rhymes in print, Waddell reIigiously refused
to suily his muse by such vulgar contact They
were retained in manuscript, tied with blue
ribbons, and hidden in the secret drawer of
scented boudoirs, or reposing under pressed
geraniums, inscribed on tinted paper, enclosed
in morocco covers and resting upon tables Of
buhl or marqueterie.
In the old days Of Washington Hall, Frank
Waddeli was one of the fine and rather fast
young mea who made that famous place their
resort. Among the "bucks" no one was
more buckish than WaddeIl, no manner more
gentlemanly. no clothes more elegant, no equi-
page more stylish. no horses faster aud hand
somer than his Washington Hall laid down
the law in these matters, and Frank Waddeli had
high place upon its bench. We are not quite
sure that he was not Chief Justice of the Court
ofEtiquette twenty. five years ago. He is almost
the last of the Washington Hall "swelIs,r who
would have looked upon the fashionable youth
of the present day with profound contempt
Waddeli gently patronized them, for under his
inevitable white waistcoat Che was one of the
last of that brigade, too,) there beat simple
heart and glowed q genial spirit.
After the glories Of Washington Hall began
to pale, and three bottle men grew scarce, Wad-
dell withdrew from the turf and the road, and de-
voted himself entirely to the service Of the fair.
He was found at every party, he was constant
driver out, he never missed society night at the
Opera, and at Saratoga he was one of the fix
lures of the season. What the United States
Hotel piazza will be without Waddeil it is diff
cult to say. Probably dreary waste.
OF late years, however, things at Saratoga
have changed. Ten years ago the Springs were
visited by throngs of people in society, we'll
dressed and WEEK bred persons. Then the late
Mrs. Rush Of Philadelphia headed one clique,
and New York matron another. Waddell
was an adnerent of tho latter clique, but also
courtier at the throne of Mrs. Rush. But last
summer the queens who had reigned SO long at
the Springs were gone, and Waddell was almost
alone. The places Of these dainty bellies and
imposing dowagers, who had lived abroad and
had the foreign polish in perfection, were filed
with new rich people of the prairie school.
Chicago, and Peoria, and Little Rock, and st.
Paul, sent women with awful things on their
heads, and nothing on their hands-women who
wore silk dresses at all times of the day
women who didn't speak French, and didn't
know how to firt, and young girls as awkward
as if they had just broken out from q country
school. The men wore dress coats in the mora
ing, chewed tobacco, and didn t know Waddell-
generally had never heard of him. This irrup-
ton of the Goths and Vandals threw our Beau
Nash into a fit Of the deepest melancholy. Once
be had given the law: now be was only
CIPHER. Once he was grand chamberlain, master
of the ceremonies, and so on: now there was
no ceremony to manage. In tho metro
polls, too, fashionable society was found
to be very much demoralized. Queer people
somehow got asked to parties, and when a
man went out to dinner he might be shocked
to find himself next to a tailor or a bootmaker.
People talked about politics and stocks and
things in Wall street, and the ladies became so
dreadtully clever as to snub Waddell some
times, to pooh.poo at his verses, and to say
that the same compliment had been paid to
ina" by the same chevalier twenty years ago.
With men SO vulgar and practical and wo-
men go erigeantes Frank Waddell had
little IN common. He was, in fact, always
out Of his epoch. He should have lived
in the eighteenth century, and lourished among
the courtiers who whispered soft nonsense in
the ears Of dc Maintenon, or la Valliere, and
handed to the Grand Monarque his llustrious
shirt, bis divine coat or his puissant breeches.
He was the last of the old type Of beaux and
went gracefully out from scene on which be
had fingered after the prompter had rung the
bell, the lights had been extinguished, and all
the actors but he had made their final exits.
For him who sighed so long and so innocently
at the shrine Of beauty, We may ask ct least the
tribute of gentle tear-!,tgete veasres, Cupid
inesqae.
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