who, at the head of his regiment, received and escorted Washington on the day of his reception. He is well remembered, and was equally at home on the floor of a ball-room as in the field. He was courteous and dignified, and could gracefully lay aside his dignity on social and appropriate occasions. He was easy in conversation, of ready and playful wit, with tact and urbanity of manner. The second name on my list is that of Mr. Joseph Russel. This gentleman was descended, I am told, from a Rhode Island family. He was wealthy, liberal, hospitable, and fond of society. His first place of residence appears to have been too narrow for him, and he had removed to the metropolis of New England, apparently for the enjoyment of a wider range of social privileges. He was showy and handsome, frank, gay, and jovial. A certain quaint drollery and humor about him, with his genuine kindliness of heart, made him a decided and general favorite in society. His ancestors were Friends; from this circumstance, with his still pertinaciously clinging to the shadowy broad-brimmed hat-last relic of his early associations-and, perhaps, also to distinguish him from another gentleman bearing the same name, he was familiarly known in Boston as "Quaker Joe." In an old poem, still remembered and quoted by the older inhabitants of his native place, and which notices the prominent gentlemen of that day, his name rhymes with. "bustle." I have not seen the lines, and fancy they may be more graphic than elegant, but record the slight circumstance, as, though trifling, it gives an idea of the cheery, active, animated

man.

The third master of ceremonies was Mr. Jonathan Freeman, who was accounted one of the handsomest men of his time. His portrait, still in existence, would seem to authorize such an opinion. Being destined to fill a conspicuous place in this narrative, I hasten to present him to my readers, and the more readily, as I claim for him a degree of representative significance, considering the individual to be a fair specimen of the fine gentleman of that period.

Some of his family papers have passed through the hands of the writer, while preparing this sketch. From these and other sources, it is gathered that he

was liberally educated, accomplished, and of graceful manners. fond of the fine arts, and of much generous culture. He appreciated talent in others, and was himself a ready and elegant writer. Discriminating and enthusiastic in his friendships, and sensitive almost to a fault, in all that pertains to the honor of a gentleman, he would have made a model hero for a romance of the eighteenth century. He had been but a short time married, and had that prominence and weight in society which the control of great wealth is usually supposed to confer on its possessor.

The three gentlemen I have mentioned were frequently brought together to preside on convivial occasions, and were at one time managers of a series of elegant assemblies given at Concert Hall, such as were famous in the social annals of the time.

While these gentlemen are making all requisite previous arrangements, that the festivities committed to their charge should be worthy of the distinguished guests, we shall again glance at the more personal preparations of our youthful belle.

Two little clouds have slightly shadowed the scene. A full set of ostrich feathers, suitable for a lady's head-dress, was at this time very costly and difficult to procure. I have somewhere met with a letter of Franklin's from abroad, in which he declines complying with the request of a relative to purchase such articles for her use, considering them not in keeping with our republican simplicity of manner. Notwithstanding the opinion of the philosopher, however, they continued in high favor and great demand. They were long and large, and worn high upon the head in order to add to the height, and give a more stately effect.

A marked distinction had in the last century been sedulously observed between the dress of the matron and the youthful maiden. The young debutante was permitted, within certain bounds, great elegance of garb, but might not assume that expanse of hoop, that length of train, in a word, that expense and pomp of costume, claimed exclusively by the married lady. But the older generations, with their more stately manners and old-fashioned notions, were already passing away, and the fair and youthful Americans, with the new ideas and expansive natures, which seem al

most indigenous to the soil, began to tire of being thus kept in the background, overshadowed by their elders, and to claim some of those immunities and privileges hitherto held so inviolate. On this point-the wearing of feathers as a decoration for the evening head-dress-matrons of the old school were especially tenacious. It was one of their last strong-holds, and had, with them, more than a feather's weight.

Innovations, nevertheless, were creeping in, and some young and daring spirits had already asserted their right to decide on their own adornment. On this occasion, finding she would be countenanced by various cotemporaries and friends, our youthful aspirant would fain have assumed the envied head-dressingeniously adducing the plea, that, as her mother, from delicate health, would not probably appear at the ball, she, as her representative, would be expected to sustain the dignity of the family. The veto placed upon this ambitious little project, after some pleading and demur, was very quietly acquiesced in. Not so with the youthful attendant.

Molly had set her heart on her young mistress appearing to the greatest advantage; and to that end she considered this unusual embellishment as all-important. Her ambition was fired. She endeavored in vain to incite to a rebellion; and. energetic and persevering, would not give up the point.

Another little difficulty was, that each lady was expected to wear a sash, one flowing end of which should display a wreath of laurel encircling the initials G. W.; and, in compliment to our allies, so many of whom were expected to grace the occasion, on the other was to be delineated the fleur-de-lis of France.

Many ladies preferred to embroider these ribbons with gold or silver thread, spangles or colored silks, slightly varying the design, though all retained the initials. A limited number were prepared for sale, displaying, on the front of the sash, in addition to other embellishments, an impress in gold of the American eagle. One of these badges appears to have been secured by our young lady, but afterward presented to some stranger who was not supplied. In the press of many engagements, various mishaps occurred to those in process of domestic preparation, and so late as the day previous to the ball the

sash was not satisfactorily supplied. This day, however, some gentlemen from the foreign squadron were visiting in this household, and entered, with French bienséance, into the little embarrassment. One of them stated that Madame his wife—who was accomplished as an artist-had amused her leisure with ornamenting these ribbons for herself and party, and insisted that the lady's talents should again be called in requisition to relieve the anxiety of the young Bostonian. He carried away with him the garniture, and punctually returned it, most exquisitely painted, the ensuing morning.

The important day at length arrives. Molly, in unusual excitement, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, hovers around the trunk, endeavoring, by many a wile, to induce her young mistress to raise the lid. Successful at length, she watches with ill-suppressed glee, the surprise and doubt-merging in gratification and delight--with which a deli cate parcel, lightly folded in tissue-paper, is lifted and examined. It tells its own story-its size, its lightness, and the protruding quills, all declare it contains the much desired ostrich plumes. The direction is in an unknown hand, and many and odd are the surmises while the snowy plumes find their way from drawing-room to kitchen; for all the household most heartily enter into the little excitement. There were three of

great beauty, and graduated in size. Molly could not keep her own counsel; at least her intelligent and tell-tale smiles declared she could find a clue to the mysterious gift-at length traced to one of the gentleman managers.

A prophetic eye can behold, across the broad Atlantic, a little cloud, not at this time very threatening, but which shall expand till it reaches our distant coasts, to fall on the heads of those who shall live to mature years-not in refreshing dews, but in snowy or fainttinted powders, or, perhaps, in fine golden grains. Shade of Franklin forbid, however, that this last extreme of extravagant fashion should be countenanced by his fair young country women! Listen, now, attentively, young damsels, who will probably assist in reviving a long exploded fashion. Mr. Rowe, faithful to his pledged word, arrived at the appointed hour. The lady, enveloped excepting the head-in a linen wrapper, was placed in a central position

in a large apartment, where the operator had plenty of elbow-room, and could occasionally retire to a convenient distance to study effects. The attendant stood near, prepared to hand, at the proper moment, pins, crimping-irons, and curling-tongs, with other various implements used in his vocation. The graceful little head-dress lay near, with its choice of ornaments. The hair was not strained over a cushion, but lightly folded back from the forehead, and craped on the under-surface, so as to give it fullness and height. The effect was easy, and apparently natural. Further back it was arranged in separate folds or waves, turning occasionally into rolls or curls, and terminating in a few large detached ringlets to fall upon the shoulder. No supporting comb was visible, but pomade was freely used, in order to give tenacity to the powder.

When fully charged and prepared, the downy puff was not shaken over the hair, as we sometimes see it upon the stage, but the operator, standing at a convenient distance, and aiming at a particular fold or curl of hair, struck lightly upon the hard wood or ivory back of his puff, when a light stream of fine powder flew directly to its appointed place.

One might almost fancy each little shower was directed by a bevy of such airy sylphs as presided over the toilet of the unfortunate and aggrieved Belinda, so accurate was the aim, so nice the calculation of force and distance.

When the head of a very young lady was dressed with powder, as there were no naturally white hairs to conceal, the intention appears to have been merely to soften the coloring and give what was then considered a becoming and delicate effect. The mother soon stayed his hand. But "Permit me, madame," "One more little puff," "This curl shows too much color;" and the skillful artiste, practiced in arranging lights and shades, brought out, with careful hand, some new effect. Through all this, I am told, no particle of powder had fallen upon the face, or missed its original destination. But now the least agreeable part of the process the victim's eyes must be closed-while the head is fanned or blown upon, to dislodge, at once, any powder which may not properly adhere. Those, with whom the powdering process was an everyday affair, were usually pro

vided with a little mask, to hold before the face and protect the eyes.

The head-dress, which was now to be attached, was raised and commented on. It was of the lightest and most transparent gauze, probably the French material known as souffle--its poetical name implying it was light as a vapor, airy as a sigh. It appears to have been somewhat like a cap or turban, but very small, and intended to be worn low on the back of the head. From it depended, on each side, large loose folds or bows of gauze, while two long ends floated back so lightly as to be lifted and sustained by the air in dancing. It was decorated by a wreath of minute roses -a spray of larger ones falling on one side. This was a trying moment; for no regular permission had yet been accorded that the feathers should be worn. The fair owner was silent, but turned a pleading eye on the dispenser of fate. Molly, who was forbidden to speak, was biting her lip, and pretending occupation at a distance, but watched closely each word and movement. Mr. Rowe was partial to plumes, and celebrated for his artistic skill in their graceful adjustment. He very quietly detached the surrounding wreath. The mother as quietly withdrew the longest feather, and a compromise was thus effected. One spray of depending roses was retained, as matching the trimmings of the dress, though partially shaded or hidden by the gauze. On the other side drooped the smallest feather, while the larger one lightly waved over the whole superstructure, giving some additional height, while the end drooped towards the shoulder. The whole arrangement, when completed, was pronounced very tasteful and elegant, giving entire satisfaction to all parties. Mr. Rowe hurried away to his next engagement, and we also are in haste to look into the preparations of one of the masters of ceremony. He has been neglected too long. would on no account set foot in the gentleman's dressing-room, or go out of our way to inquire into the mysteries of his toilet. But, this particular evening, it so happens, that a door has been left ajar, and, while quietly sitting at our writing-table, we glance in from the distant seat, and hasten to communicate the result of our observations. He is clad in a suit of light blue silk, and is seated, for the greater convenience of

We

his wife, who kindly assists at his toilet. She appears to be occupied in tying ribbons, the color of the dress, which either secure it at the knee, or are placed there for ornament in lieu of buttons, or the usual buckles. These bows of ribbon, with their flowing ends, being arranged to her satisfaction, the gentleman rises.* He is strikingly handsome. The dress is becoming, but something is evidently wrong, and he is altogether uncomfortable. As the evening approaches, I shall take this opportunity of informing my readers sub rosa-that he has been requested by his colleagues to open the ball in a minuet with a distinguished French lady, who had promised to honor the occasion by her presence. The cireumstance has been kept quite a secret till now, and hardly whispered beyond the household, though there were various preliminary discussions, and I believe practicings with the lady herself. To this day, people are fond of such little mysteries. Most forms of the minuet -certainly the particular one to be danced this evening-require a very free use of the arm, which is lifted continually to the head; the dress, of course, must be an easy fit, and our friend's coat, intended as an evening dress, was cut with reference to this, and altered, again and again, till there was no ground for complaint. But the embroidered and spangled vest-there is the rub. The coat is hastily dashed off, and all usual arrangements made for giving more ease. It will not doscissors are called into requisition, and deep incisions made in the rich material, while, to try the size, the arm plies up and down, as making salutes with imaginary hats. I have dwelt on this little circumstance, because, bearing testimony to the writer's truthfulness of detail, the marks of scissors are yet visible about the arm-holes of the oldfashioned garment which, tradition says, was worn on this occasion. It still remains, and, had I not kept before me this tangible link with the past, I should have felt at times I was recording an almost forgotten dream.

The antiquated garment is of thick white silk, nearly three-quarters of a yard in depth, and with no collar. The edge and button-holes are neatly border

ed with silver spangles. The buttons are of silk, ornamented with silver. A light wreath of colored embroidery, mixed with silver, surrounds the whole, and, intermingled, are many little sparkling gems, each set on a plate of metal, so perforated as to be easily attached with the needle. The large pockets are outlined with spangles, and lightly and tastefully ornamented with colored and silver embroidery.

It is worn and dark with age, but, when pure and white, and while silver and gems were fresh and lustrous, it must have been quite elegant, though by no means so gorgeous and elaborate as the custom of the time would have sanctioned.

If I venture to offer a fuller sketch of this gentleman's appearance, it is because details are always more interesting than generalities, and this one picture may be considered a type of many in the evening ball-room. He wears his own hair, which bears evidence, however, of the skill of the perruquier. It is powdered, and worn behind in what was familiarly styled a club. It is quite long, gathered in the neck, and tightly braided-this braid is folded back, and neatly and completely secured in one thick plait, concealed by a large bow of black or brown ribbon. The hose, of course, are of white silk, the dancing pumps are either of black velvet or Spanish morocco, I am sorry I cannot quite discern, but both materials are in vogue, and there is no uncertainty as to the large and brilliant buckles. Rich lace and embroidery decorate the cravat and shirt-front, on which reposes a costly gem, and the last kind attention of the wife is, to attach costly lace to his wrists, which (I whisper a secret, handed down from those old days), being new and not possessing that much desired saffron tint which marks and distinguishes the heir-loom, giving its value to really old lace, has been bathing for some days past in a weak decoction of-coffee.

So far as externals go, I have now presented you with a finished gentleman. Nor is he deficient in more important requisites that old-fashioned politeness, for instance, springing from kindly feeling and a just estimation of one's own claims, while recognizing

those of others. Witness the courteous thanks to his wife, and listen to-no, close the door, no outsider shall listen to the courtly compliments which accompany his expressions of regret that she cannot accompany him, her health not admitting exposure to the evening air. Give him his embroidered and fragrant handkerchief, and the snuff-box, important to a gentleman as the fan to a lady. He must hasten away.

Very early hours were then observed both in going to and returning from a ball. And he must be punctually on the spot, for some last consultations with his brother managers.

As a pendant to this little sketch, I would like to present a finished lady. But, with suspended pen, I pause at the threshold of her apartment, hesitating to enter into further detail. I promise, however, this shall be my only portrait of a young gentlewoman of that period. When we reach Concert Hall, will deal only with the matrons.

I have lingered so long in doubt, that the toilet is quite completed. A young sister running lightly before, to open and close the doors, and Molly carefully lifting and guarding the train, the lady descends from an upper apartment, where she has kindly redeemed a promise by displaying the pretty dress to her aged nurse, now crippled and infirm. We find her in the drawing-room, the centre of an admiring group. With the exception of the decrepit and invalid dependent, all of the household are collected to comment and admire. Mother and aunt look with approving eyes, and young sisters with unenvious pride. Dusky forms linger modestly at the door-way, and even Irish Thomas loiters and gazes, while arranging the wood-fire upon its antique irons. Molly holds a light, and, quite entranced, forgets the proprieties of place and presence, while uttering exclamations of delighted approval.

The dress is made and trimmed according to the last received accounts of Parisian modes. It is ornamented with three white flounces of gauzy tissue. Cut very long, they are gathered from

the edge, at frequent intervals, to the requisite depth; each festoon or scallop being held in place by a small cluster of Italian roses, no larger than the prairie roses of our Western forests. The shoe is of white kid, surmounted by an oval buckle of chased gold, with a setting of Bristol stones. The heels are high as they can possibly be worn. I should probably be discredited, did I venture to name the number of inches they would measure. They are faced with white to match the shoe, and, tapering to a point no larger than a New York shilling, are, therefore, not conspicuous; in fact, they are hidden from view by the descending train, which lightly sweeps the floor, but is not of an inconvenient length for dancing. That most important article of attire, the hoop, is not large, probably no larger than the whale-bone apparatus worn at the present day.

An

The bodice is cut square, long and tapering, and trimmed with gauze. The sleeves fit the arm, and are worn below the elbow. They are partially covered with gauze, and, above some trimmings of this material, is a band of ribbon, the long floating ends of which pass through a small slide or buckle of the same pattern with those worn in the shoe. tique lace decorates the neck, and falls in a double frill from the edge of the sleeve. A bow of white ribbon is worn in front or at the side; it is long and flowing, and finished by those painted emblems I have before described. The golden eagle has been omitted on this sash, and, to hide the deficiency and supply a missing decoration, the antique chatelaine is worn, from which are suspended the enameled watch and accompanying ornaments. The young gentlewoman holds in her hand a fan of delicately painted kid, mounted in carved ivory, in which is executed her cypher.

One more little item, it is so strongly in contrast with our modern fashions: the dress is cut high on the shoulder, while the glove is of a length which meets and passes under the sleeve-any separation from which was considered to show such deficiency of neat arrangement that it was usually attached by