people alternately, like the layers of bread and butter, and ham and
mustard in a sandwich; then a little sing, then a little preach, then
more petitions and more responses.
Damphool read the entire service, Minister's cues included, and sung
all the hymns. I noticed that Bull Dogge gave all the responses with a
great deal of energy and vigor. He said he always liked to come to this
kind of Church, because when they jawed religion at him, he could jaw
back.
Kept as cool as I could, but could not help looking round now and then
to see the show.
Elderly lady on my right, very devout, gilt edged prayer-book,
gold-covered fan, feathers in her bonnet, rings on her fingers, and for
all I know, "bells on her toes."
Antiquated gentleman in same slip, well preserved but somewhat wrinkled,
smells of Wall street, gold spectacles, gold-headed cane, put three
cents in the plate.
Fashionable little girl on the left--two flounces on her pantalettes,
and a diamond ring _over_ her glove.
Young America looking boy, four years old, patent leather boots,
standing collar, gloves, cane, and cigar case in his pocket.
Foppish young man with adolescent moustache, pumps, legs _a la_
spermaceti candles, shirt front embroidered _a la_ 2.40 race horse,
cravat _a la_ Julien, vest _a la_ pumpkin pie, hair _a la_ soft soap,
coat-tails _a la_ boot-jack, which when parted discovered a view of the
Crystal Palace by gas-light on the rear of his pantaloons, wristbands
_a la_ stove pipe, hat _a la_ wild Irishman, cane to correspond; total
effect _a la_ Shanghae.
Artificial young lady, extreme of fashion; can't properly describe her,
but here goes: whalebone, cotton, paint and whitewash; slippers _a la_
Ellsler, feet _a la_ Japanese, dress _a la_ Paris, shawl _a la_ eleven
hundred dollars, parasol _a la_ mushroom, ringlets _a la_ corkscrew,
arms _a la_ broomstick, bonnet _a la_ Bowery gal (Bull Dogge says the
boy with buttons on him, brought it in, in a teaspoon, fifteen minutes
after she entered the house), neck _a la_ scrag of mutton, complexion
_a la_ mother of pearl, appearance generally _a la_ humbug. (Bull Dogge
offers to bet his hat, she don't know a cabbage from a new cheese, and
can't tell whether a sirloin steak is beef, chicken, or fresh fish.)
At length, with another variette upon the organ, and all the
concentrated praise and thanksgiving of the congregation, sung by four
people up stairs, the service concluded. I thought from the manner of
this last performance, each member of the choir imagined the songs of
praise would never get to Heaven if he didn't give them a personal
boost, in the shape of an extra yell.
Left the Church with a confused idea that the only way to attain eternal
bliss, is to go to Church every Sunday, and to give liberally to the
Foreign Missionary cause.
Bull Dogge tried to convince me, that one half the people present,
thought that Fifth avenue runs straight into Heaven, and that their
through tickets are insured, their front seats reserved, and that when
they are obliged to leave this world, they will find a coach and four,
and two servants in livery, ready to take them right through to the
other side of Jordan.
XVI.
Benevolence Run Mad--Charitable Cheating.
I was so much affected by the services of the Church, had my feelings so
much excited, and all my benevolent and charitable nature so thoroughly
aroused by the sermon, that I felt an irresistible desire to rush out
and give somebody something.
For I know that I am charitable; I feel it in my bones, like rheumatism.
I always give money to the begwoman, who has such a large family at
home; and to the whiny boy, with a club-foot, who asks charity on behalf
of his sick mother.
True, I have seen the old lady when she was evidently inebriated, and
apparently disposed to harangue the crowd in high Dutch--but then she
was in excellent company; noble-looking men, with stars on their
bosoms--and I have discovered that the club-footed boy changes all his
money into cents, and gambles it away, playing "pitchpenny" in
Theatre-alley; still, I keep on giving.
But it is also a fact that I am not always able to comply with the
demands upon my purse. Twice have I been invited to "calico" parties,
and at the bottom of each note was a modest request that I would make my
appearance arrayed in such apparel only, as I would be willing to donate
next day to the Five-Points Mission.
Could have done like the others--bought a ready-made coat and vest and
given _them_ with the greatest pleasure--but the hint in the invitation
seemed to include the entire wardrobe brought into requisition on the
occasion, and when I thought of a Five-Points darkey in my ruffled shirt
and gold studs, I was "suddenly indisposed," and sent my "regrets."
But I did go to a ball for the benefit of the poor--a two-dollar
commingling of "upper-tendom" with "lower-twentydom"--an avalanche of
exclusiveness, in a torrent of mobocracy--where the crowd was so great
that faces lost their identity, and I was only conscious of a hustling
mass of dressed up humanity--a forest of broadcloth wrecked in an ocean
of calico. I barely escaped with life, and reached home in a state of
collapse.
Afterward, went to a concert in behalf of the poor--where I sat all the
evening in a hard seat with a number on the back to see a woman make
faces at a well-dressed audience, and sing music which I could not
understand--the people all applauded when she screamed, and threw
bouquets at her when she made a noise like a swamp-blackbird.
But after listening to the stirring address before alluded to, I felt
that I had not done enough; so, obedient to the promptings of my
impulsive nature, I determined to give something more, and being so far
_cityfied_ in my habits that I desired to combine amusement with
charity, and only give my money to the needy after I had received its
worth in dancing, got its full value in foreign music at a high price,
or eaten its equivalent in oysters and ice-cream at some kind of a
pseudo-charitable gathering, I looked about me for some fitting
opportunity to bestow my charity on the deserving poor, after making it
previously pay for some delectation for myself.
It did not take me long to find out that there was soon to be a ladies'
fair, in aid of the poor, given by the benevolent ladies of the Church
of the Holy Poker.
Damphool (who can't give up city associations, and who wouldn't read his
Bible if it wasn't printed in New York) had sent to me from his rural
solitude to procure him a dressing-gown, a pair of slippers, and a
crocheted worsted comforter.
Thought I couldn't have a better opportunity to purchase these, and so I
went to the fair.
Got to the hall, paid my twenty-five cents at the door, went in--saw
plenty of long tables, with ladies behind them playing "keep
store"--tables covered with mysterious articles of baby linen, and
complicated pieces of female harness, designed for uses to me unknown,
and also all sorts of impracticable unnecessaries intended for
gentlemen.
Slippers that you couldn't get on; smoking caps that could never, by
any possibility, fit anybody (shaped like a Chinese pagoda, and full of
tinsel and spangles to make them prickly); cigar cases, that you
couldn't get a cigar into without breaking both ends off (perhaps they
expect us to smoke "stubs," like the newsboys); pin-cushions, stuffed so
hard they would turn the point of a marlin-spike; watch cases, just big
enough to hold a three cent piece; pen wipers, that fill the point of a
pen full of wool--and divers other nonsensical inconveniences fabricated
by speculating females, the patterns being always very short, and the
stitches very long (I suppose they think we don't know the difference),
to palm off upon victimized gentlemen; and these latter resignedly
submit to a price so exorbitant, that if a Chatham-street Israelite had
the impudence to ask it they'd straighten out his fish-hook nose like a
darning needle.
The prettiest looking girls are always placed where the least
attractive-looking merchandise is displayed, and they ask the biggest
kind of prices, trusting to the gallantry of the gentlemen "not to beat
them down," flattering themselves, I suppose, that their pretty looks
are "value received" for the exchange.
One consequence of this arrangement is, that every buyer spends all the
money he has in his purse, taking in exchange therefor a lot of stuff so
utterly useless, and so ridiculously absurd, that after having it on his
table for a week or so to laugh at, he is fain to get rid of the
rubbish, by giving the whole to his chamber-maid.
Sometimes your purchases will hold together till you leave the room, and
sometimes not; you must show yourself a man, and "equal to either
fortune."
There was a post-office; pretty girl called me; had a letter for me;
bought it; paid ten cents; nothing in it--blank.
Solicitous young lady very anxious to have me give her twenty-five cents
to tell me how much I weighed; paid her the money, and she told me
within fifty-one pounds and a half.
Young woman wanted me to invest in the "grab bag;" gave half a dollar,
and fished in; got, in three times trying, a tin whistle, half a stick
of candy, and a peanut done up in tissue paper.
Went on to the auction table, where, after much competition with a
ringleted miss (who was put there to make Peter Funk bids against
probable purchasers), succeeded in bidding in a China vase, which I soon
discovered had a hole in the bottom, and wouldn't hold water any more
than it would bake pork. If I had bought it anywhere else should have
thought I had been swindled, and have demanded my money back, but here I
supposed it was an exemplification of some newly discovered principle of
fair dealing with which I was not yet acquainted.
Was much amused with the way they disposed of the unsold goods--certain
number of articles, (things left at the tables tended by the homely
girls) and for each article twenty tickets were put into a hat, whence
they were drawn out singly, and the last tickets drawn were to have the
prizes--should have thought it was just the same as a lottery, if I had
not been acquainted with the ladies, and known they wouldn't do anything
so naughty.
Came to a place where an old lady, with steel spectacles, was cutting up
a loaf of cake into particularly small pieces--asked what it meant--was
told there was a gold ring somewhere in the cake, and they proposed to
sell each piece for a quarter of a dollar, and give the ring to the
lucky buyer--wondered if it wasn't another lottery on a small scale, but
supposed it couldn't be--went to the supper-room.
It is a curious metropolitan fact, that at parties, balls, or wherever a
refreshment-table is spread, every man seems to regard it as his duty to
fill himself to the very lips with all the "delicacies of the season,"
and to accomplish it in the least time possible--as if he was a gun, and
anxious to ascertain his calibre, and find out how quickly he could be
loaded in case of necessity.
And the ladies are not far behind; this evening I learned how much a
female _can_ eat in a charitable cause.
A pale-faced ball-room belle is a modern Sphinx--a gastronomic problem,
whose solution will probably never be satisfactorily expounded.
Under the impression that she would not eat more than I had money to pay
for, I invited a lady to take some refreshments, and I certainly think
that, like the countryman, she imagined she was bound to eat all the
bill-of-fare called for.
She ate stewed oysters--fried oysters--boiled turkey with oyster sauce,
celery--oysters on the shell--ice cream, sponge cake, and Charlotte
russe--Roman punch, two water-ices, coffee, sandwiches, cold sausage,
lobster salad, oysters broiled, also stewed again, and six on the
shell--orange jelly, grape ditto, cake; she then hinted again at
oysters, but as the supply had run out, she was obliged to go
hungry--paid the bill with a certified check on the Merchants' Bank,
which luckily covered the amount, and greatly relieved my mind; for I
feared there would be a balance which I would have to give my note for.
Having previously procured the articles required for my friend, I
immediately left--go home--got there, and proceeded to examine my
purchases--found that the slippers--having been pasted together without
the slightest regard to permanency, had come apart in my pocket, my
comforter had ravelled out, so that I had about six inches comforter,
and a wad of yarn big enough to make a horse blanket--my dressing-gown
had been made of a moth-eaten remnant, and where there _was_ any sewing,
every stitch was as long as a railroad, but the sleeves had, I verily
believe, been put in with court plaster, and the long seams closed with
carpenter's glue.
Made up my mind that the objects of that feminine institution, a Ladies'
Fair, are somewhat as follows:
Firstly, to give the ladies an opportunity to show their new clothes,
and to talk with a multitude of unknown gentlemen, without any
preliminary introduction.
Secondly, to beg as much money as possible from the gentlemen aforesaid,
under the transparent formality of bargain and sale--which sale includes
the buyer, who is really the only article fairly "sold" in the whole
collection.
Thirdly, to give some money to the ostentatiously poor, if there is any
left after paying expenses, and the Committee don't spend it in
carriage-hire.
In New York, by a refinement in Benevolence, engendered by the hardness
of the times, and the necessity of making the money go as far as it
will, charity money answers a double purpose; procuring pleasure for the
rich, and soup for the poor.
Thus if you pay three dollars for a ticket to the Opera or Ball, you
can enjoy your Aria, or Schottische, with a double relish; and can eat
oysters and turkey, and gulp down creams and ices till your stomach
"strikes," in the labor of love, with the happy consciousness, that it
is all for "sweet charity"--and if the three dollars, before it reach
the needy, in whose behalf you gave it, dwindles to three dimes and a
tip, you can, knowing you have done _your_ duty, poetically exclaim,
with the noble Thane, "Thou can'st not say _I_ did it."
XVII.
Millerite Jubilee--How they didn't go up.
In company with many others of the same genus and who may be classed
under the same general cognomen, my friend Damphool lately became
convinced that according to the comfortable prediction of Mr. Miller,
the "end of Earth" would become speedily visible to the naked eye, as
that amiable gentleman had advertised the world to burn on the
nineteenth day of May, 1855. According to the programme, the
entertainment was to commence with a trumpet solo by Gabriel (not the
one of City Hall celebrity), to be followed by a general "gittin' up
stairs," and grand mass meeting of the illustrious defunct--after which
"the elect" were to start for Paradise in special conveyances provided
for their accommodation--the whole to conclude with a splendid display
of fireworks in the evening.
Damphool had done nothing but sing psalms for a week. Bull Dogge, who
was also a convert, had packed up his wardrobe in a hat-box, and left
the city; saying that he owned forty shares in a Kentucky coal mine, and
was going to take possession of his property; and he offered to bet us
the drinks that if he stood on a vein of _that_ coal, he would be the
last man scorched.
Damphool squared up his board bill, and paid his washerwoman, which left
him dead broke; sold his watch to a "blaspheming Jew" to raise money
with which to procure an ascension robe; in order to do honor to the
occasion, he got one made of linen cambric; it was a trifle too long,
and cut him malignantly under the arms, but he bore it like a martyr; he
got shaved, took a bath, put on his robe, bid me farewell, and got ready
to go up.
I discovered the place from which they were to start, and went up myself
to see the operation--in a vacant lot, where there were no trees to
catch their skirts in their anticipated flight--large crowd on the
ground.
One maiden lady in a long white gown, had also dressed her lap-dog in a
similar manner.
Man with a family Bible in his hand, had forgotten his robe, and come
in his shirt-sleeves.
Ancient wench in a white night-gown, with red shoes, and a yellow
handkerchief round her head, knelt down in a small puddle of rain water,
and prayed to take her up easy, and not hurt her sore ancle.
Lady from East Broadway, came in a robe cut low in the neck, and trimmed
with five flounces.
Red-haired woman made her appearance with a crying baby, to the
consternation of the company, who expected to go to Heaven, and had no
relish for a preliminary taste of the other place.
Careful old lady, brought her overshoes in a work-basket, to wear home
in case the performance should be postponed.
Little girl, had her doll, and her three year old brother had a hoop, a
tin whistle, and a painted kite.
Poor washerwoman came, but as she had only a cotton robe, and a scant
pattern at that, the more aristocratic ladies moved farther away, and
smelt their cologne, while the poor woman knelt down in the corner, with
her face to the fence.
Sixth Avenue lady came in a white satin robe; had a boy to hold up her
train, and she had her own hands full of visiting cards.
An African brunette carried a cushion for her mistress to kneel upon,
and a man followed behind with a basket containing her certificate of
church membership, a gilt-edged prayer-book, two mince-pies and some ham
sandwiches.
Old cripple hobbled up, and as he was devoutly saying his prayers, a bad
boy (who had not made any preparation for aerial travelling) stole his
crutch to make a ball club.
Crowd began to separate into knots, according to their different creeds
and beliefs; Unitarians, Baptists, Presbyterians, and Methodists,
clustering round their respective preachers.
I noticed that one old lady, evidently believing in the perfect sanctity
of her darling minister, and desiring to insure her own passage, had
tied herself to his left leg with a fish line.
Baptist man was preaching close communion.
Presbyterian man was descanting on the accountability of infants, and
asserting that a child three years old can commit sufficient sin to doom
it to the lowest hell.
Sunrise--all knelt down to pray; east wind blew, and it began to rain. I
noticed that Damphool had found a dry place on the lee side of a cider
barrel.
Methodist man took off his coat, and made a stump prayer, while all his
congregation yelled "_Glory_."
Baptist man inserted a special clause in his supplication, that he and
his crowd might go up in a separate boat.
Ministers all prayed _at_ each other, and _for_ nobody.
Know-Nothing clergyman addressed a long-winded political prayer to the
Almighty, detailing the latest election returns, deploring the choice of
the opposition candidate, imploring his blessing on the next governor
(if the world _should_ stand), insinuated that he expected the
nomination himself, and concluded by advising Him to exclude from heaven
all foreigners, or they would refuse to live up to the regulations, and
would certainly kick up another row among the celestials.
Down-town man, on hand, ready to go up; tried to pray, but from want of
practice, could only utter some disjointed sentences about "uncurrent
funds," "money market," "Erie down to 36;" (Damphool whispered that if
_that_ man ever got to heaven he would melt down the golden harp into
coin, and let it out at two per cent. a month.)
Began to rain harder; wind decidedly chilly; their teeth chattered with
cold, and they began to wish for the conflagration to commence. Naughty
boys on the fence began to throw stones--promiscuous praying on every
side. Anxious man stopped in the midst of a long, touching supplication
to cuff the ears of a little boy who hit him with a brick; hours slipped
away, began to think the entertainment was "postponed on account of the
weather."
Noon came; folks were not half so scared as they were in the morning;
ministers had got too hoarse to talk, and were passing the time kissing
the sisters.
Damphool looked so chilly that I got him a glass of hot whiskey punch;
he looked at me with holy horror, and went on with his prayer, but
before he got to "amen," the punch had disappeared.
Husband of red-haired woman came and ordered her to go home and wash the
breakfast dishes and then mend his Sunday pantaloons.
One o'clock, zeal began to cool off; at two the enthusiasm was below
par; at three the rain poured so that I thought an alteration in the
Litany would be necessary to make it read, "Have mercy upon us miserable
_swimmers_." Small boy threw a handful of gravel at long man, which hit
him in the face, and made him look like a mulatto with the small-pox.
Long man punched small boy with a fence rail.
Four o'clock; Gabriel hadn't come yet. Damphool, much disappointed,
muttered something about being "sold;" people evidently getting hungry;
no loaves or fishes on the ground; woman with two children said she was
going home to put them in the trundle-bed; long man looked round to see
that no one was looking, then tucked his robe under his arm, got over
the fence, and started for home on a dog trot.
Dark; no signs of fireworks yet; pyrotechnic exhibition not likely to
commence for some time. Crowd impatient. (I here missed Damphool, and
found him an hour afterwards, paying his devotions to an eighteen-penny
oyster stew and a mug of ale.)
Stayed an hour longer, when the crowd began to disperse, with their
ascension robes so sadly draggled, that if they HAD received a second
summons to go, it would have taken an extra quantity of soap-suds to
make them presentable among decent angels.
Appointed myself a committee of five to inquire into the matter; offered
the following resolution, which I unanimously adopted:--
_Resolved_, That putting on a clean shirt to go to heaven in, don't
always result in getting there, even though the tails be of extra
length, and that the creed which teaches such a mode of procedure is a
farcical theology, fully worthy to be ranked among the many other
excellent "sells" of that veteran joker of world-wide celebrity--_Jo
Miller_.
XVIII.
The Great "American Tragedian."
The only dramatic performances known in the wild region where I passed
some of my early years, are given by companies of strolling players who
usually give their classic entertainments in a barn, have a piece of
carpet for a drop curtain, four tallow candles for footlights, and who
generally go out of town in the night without paying their Tavern bills.
Almost every Drama performed by them, requires more people to represent
it than are contained in the entire troupe; the services of a crowd of
aspiring country boys are secured for soldiers, citizens, robbers, and
other personages who don't have to say anything; but there is still a
large gap which can only be filled by the "doubling" of several parts by
one performer. Hence it is by no means unusual in the "tragedy of
Richard III." to see King Henry, after being deliberately despatched
by Gloster in the first act, reappear in the second as the Duke of
Buckingham, and then, after his supposed decapitation in obedience to
the ferocious order of Richard, "Off with his head," come back in the
final scenes, equipped in a full suit of mail, as the Earl of Richmond,
and avenging his double murder by killing the "crook-backed tyrant" with
a broadsword after a prolonged struggle.
[Illustration: The Great "American Tragedian."]
And in Macbeth, King Duncan, after being carved up by his treacherous
kinsman with two white handled butcher-knives, returns as Hecate in the
witch scenes, and afterwards as court physician to Lady M., besides
which he generally blows the flourishes on the trumpet for the entrances
of the King, beats the bass drum, and attends to the sheet-iron thunder.