Part 2
The names by which this _fête_ is known, Meschianza and Mischianza, are derived from two Italian words,--_mescere_, to mix, and _mischiare_, to mingle. Thus the entertainment, so varied in its nature, has been named a mixture and a medley with equal propriety. We have adopted the spelling of the original invitations, one of which lies before us, and reads thus:
The Favor of your meeting the Subscribers to the Meschianza at Knight’s Wharf, near Pool’s Bridge, to-morrow, at half-past three, is Desired.
[Signed] HENRY CALDER.
Sunday, 17th May. MISS CLIFTON.
Knight’s wharf was at the edge of Green Street, in the Northern Liberties; Poole’s bridge crossed Pegg’s Run at Front Street, and was named after one Poole, a Friend, whose mansion lay quite near.
It is curious to notice that this invitation to Miss Eleanor Clifton, whose portrait proclaims her one of the beauties of the period, is dated but one day in advance of the _fête_, which would lead us to fear that this lady was tempted to commit the sin of sewing at her ball-dress on a Sunday, like that unfortunate damsel of Queen Elizabeth’s time whom Mrs. Jarley holds up as a waxen warning to all Sabbath-breakers, had we not good reason to infer that a verbal invitation had been given long before.
The preparations for this magnificent entertainment, the erection of the numerous and vast pavilions around the old Wharton mansion, and their decoration by André, Delancey, and all the other gallant officers who took part in the affair, were doubtless the talk of the town for weeks. Yards and yards of painting must have been executed by the indefatigable André, as the ceilings, sides, and decorations of the long pavilions, designed for the supper- and ball-rooms, were to a great extent the work of his hands. Here he used unsparingly the pencil that had made its virgin essay on the features of lovely, unrequiting Honora Sneyd, lingering, with true artistic fervor, over festoons of roses and bouquets of drooping flowers.
The owner of this property was dubbed by his contemporaries “Duke Wharton,” in consequence of the extreme haughtiness of his bearing and, it is said, from the following circumstance: “One winter’s day, when the sidewalks were rendered dangerously slippery from the accumulated ice upon them, Mr. Wharton, while attempting to make his usual dignified progress over the uncertain footing, was suddenly tripped up, and would have measured his length upon the pavement, had not a jovial Hibernian, passing at the moment, stretched forth a friendly hand to his aid, crying out, ‘God save my Lord the Duke!’” Another amusing passage of compliments, this time with Sir William Draper, is related by Graydon: “Sir William, observing that Mr. Wharton entered the room hat in hand, and remained uncovered, begged, as it was contrary to the custom of his Society to do so, that the Quaker gentleman would dispense with this unnecessary mark of respect. But the ‘Duke,’ feeling his pride piqued at the supposition that he would uncover to Sir William or any other man, replied, with entire _sang-froid_, that he had uncovered for his own comfort, the day being warm, and that whenever he found it convenient he would resume his hat.” These and other stories, all indicating a pride that seems to have been considered commendable in those days, repeated with embellishments, doubtless added to the merriment of many convivial after-dinner gatherings, and passing from mouth to mouth, served to establish the reputation and title of this old Quaker gentleman, whose death occurred more than a year previous to the British occupation of Philadelphia.[2] The fact that Walnut Grove was a country-seat, and in all probability used by the Wharton family only during the summer months, may account for the British officers having entire possession of the premises in the spring of ’78, while its size and situation made it an appropriate place in which to hold their revels. Surrounded by broad lawns and lofty trees, situated at some distance west of the Delaware River, at what is now Fifth Street near Washington Avenue, Walnut Grove was then considered quite a rural residence. It has long since disappeared, the encroaching streets of a busy city having rendered almost traditional the theatre of this gay and brilliant scene, although there were those still living, on the anniversary of the festival in 1878, who recalled the old brick house as it stood in Colonial times, and one who slid down the balusters of the stairway in boyish frolic, with never a thought of all the gay and gallant throng which once passed over the stairs and down the broad hall to the sound of music, merry jests, courtly compliments, and rippling laughter.
It is said that there were not many ladies with the British officers in Philadelphia, most of them having left their wives in New York; so, there being few authorities to consult about the prevailing fashions at the court of the beautiful Austrian or the less beautiful Queen Charlotte, our young ladies were forced to rely upon their own ingenuity in the arrangement of their toilets. Those chosen to be knights’ ladies were assisted by the taste and skill of André, whose water-color design for the costume of the ladies of the Blended Rose is still preserved, representing a curious combination of Oriental and Parisian styles, its flowing tunic over full Turkish trousers being topped by the high _coiffure_ of the day. Miss Peggy Shippen’s portrait[3] represents her in this head-dress, and in a letter written to her in August, 1779, André playfully alludes to his millinery experience gained during preparations for the _fête_:
“You know the Mesquianza made me a complete milliner. Should you not have received supplies for your fullest equipment from that department, I shall be glad to enter into the whole details of cap-wire, needles, gauze, &c., and, to the best of my abilities, render you in these trifles services from which I hope you would infer a zeal to be further employed.”
A rash offer, it seems to us, for what knight, be he never so bold, would be willing to enter into all the intricacies and mysteries of a modern feminine toilet? And those of the days of powder, patch, and high befeathered _coiffure_ were certainly not less bewildering to the minds of the uninitiated.
Although from various sources we learn that André took an active part in the preparations for the Meschianza, out of doors as well as among laces and silks in fair ladies’ boudoirs, Mr. Sargent tells us that Burgoyne[4] was the conductor of the elegant affair, which was on the plan of a _fête champêtre_ given by Lord Derby, June, 1774, on the occasion of Lord Stanley’s marriage with the Duke of Hamilton’s daughter. Only about fifty young Philadelphia ladies were present at the Meschianza; but if we are to credit history and the gossip of the day, the destruction wrought by their charms upon the hearts of the British officers must have been equal to that to have been expected from twice their number, for all authorities unite in telling us that the ladies of this city were justly celebrated for their beauty, of a certain grand and noble type. Watson says that most of the American gentlemen who took part in the Meschianza were “aged non-combatants,” the young men of the city being Whigs, and generally, be it said to their credit, with Washington’s army at Valley Forge.
There seems to be no doubt that a number of Whig ladies graced this entertainment, and one of them, herself, describes the affair in glowing colors. What shall we say for the erring fair ones? That they were young, beautiful, anxious to see and perhaps to be seen. Shall we, standing amid the lights and shadows of another century, be severe in our judgment upon these fair, curious Eves of a hundred years ago? They had read of grand doings among court ladies and gentlemen in the exaggerated and stilted romances of the day, until their foolish hearts were in an eager flutter of anticipation and delight. The whole town was talking about the projected _fête_; the young officers were constantly passing to and fro busied with the arrangements; so grand a sight might never again dawn upon the Philadelphia world. Thus reasoning, and dropping the while a tear for the braves at Valley Forge, these inconsistent Whig ladies yielded.
From the windows of some dwellings belonging to Friends--opposed in principle to such scenes of gayety and dissipation--eyes as eager as any looked forth upon the busy scene of preparation, like doves from behind imprisoning bars. Sweet young Quakeresses, gentle-eyed as the dove and gentle-voiced, that gay land of enchantment down the river--a seeming Elysium--is not for you! How they must have longed to go--sitting by the fireside, like so many Cinderellas, watching their happy sisters start off bravely attired to the ball! To them, alas! came no fairy godmother, so they reluctantly folded their soft wings and stayed at home.
In a little, old, commonplace-book found in a house in Southwark, and now in the possession of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, among extracts from various authors--some in English, some in Latin, proving the unknown writer to have been a person of taste and culture--is a description of the Meschianza penned by an eyewitness. With the exception of the well-known account of the _fête_ given by Major André in a letter to a friend in England, this is the most detailed recital that we have encountered. Opening the yellowed pages, we read:
“Agreeable to an invitation of the managers of the Meschianza, Dr. M., Mr. F., and myself went up about four o’clock in the afternoon, in Mr. F.’s Coach, to Knight’s wharf, where we found most of the company in the Boats. Some of these were on the water in the galley with Lord Howe, among them Mrs. Chew, Mrs. Hamilton, Mrs. Worrell, Mrs. Coxe, Miss Chew, Miss Auchmuty, Miss Redman, Miss Franks, &c., General Howe, Sir Henry Clinton, Lord Rawdon, &c.; and General Knyphausen and his attendants were in another Galley. We continued waiting on the water for the rest of the company near half an Hour, when, a Signal being given from the ‘Vigilant,’ we began to move in three divisions, a Galley and ten flatboats in each division. In the first was General Knyphausen, &c., in the third British and German officers, and in the middle, Lord General Howe, &c.--with three Barges, in each of which were bands of music playing.”
A lady in Philadelphia at this time who attended the Meschianza, although she declares herself a noted Whig, thus describes this portion of the entertainment in a letter addressed to Mrs. Colonel Theodorick Bland, in Virginia:
“On the back of the ticket, you observe, we are to attend at Knight’s wharf (you remember Pool’s bridge near Kensington). Thither we accordingly repaired in carriages at the appointed hour of three, where we found a vast number of boats, barges, and galleys to receive us, all adorned with small colors or jacks of different colors. On a signal from the ‘Vigilant’ we all embarked, forming lines, with all the music belonging to the army in the centre. The ladies interspersed in the different boats (the seats of which were covered with green cloth) with the red coats, colors flying, music playing, etc., you may easily suppose formed a very gay and grand appearance; nor were the shore and houses, lined with spectators, any bad object to those in the regatta (the water party so called). We were obliged to row gently on account of the galley sailing slow.
“The armed ship--the ‘Fanny’--was drawn into the stream and decorated in the most beautiful manner with the colors of every Court or State streaming; amidst the number, the thirteen stripes waved with as much elegance, and as gracefully sported with the gentle zephyrs, as any of the number. After passing the above ship we reached the ‘Roebuck,’ whose men were all fixed on her yards and gave us three cheers as we passed, and as soon as we had got to a distance not to be incommoded by the smoke she fired a salute and was answered by several other vessels in the harbor. At length we reached the place of destination (after lying awhile on our oars) opposite the ‘Roebuck,’ the music playing ‘God Save the King.’”
The regatta which headed the programme of the Meschianza was suggested by a similar pageant on the Thames, June 23, 1775, and, being a novelty even in old England, it is not strange that it should have set provincial Philadelphia astir, nor that six barges were needed to keep at a distance the numerous boats, filled with eager spectators, that crowded the Delaware on the day of the entertainment, when:
“There in the broad, clear afternoon, With myriad oars, and all in tune, A swarm of barges moved away In all their grand regatta pride.”
We doubt whether those who disapproved of the whole affair--the Quakers, Whigs, and many sensible Tories--could forbear casting furtive glances toward that fairy procession, which, Read says,--
“Like tropic isles of flowery light, Unmoored by some enchanter’s might, O’erflowed with music, floated down Before the wharf-assembled town.”
Thus this gay and brilliant fleet proceeded down the river with flying colors, while the band played stirring English airs, amid the soft breezes and under the perfect skies of an old-time May day, until they arrived opposite the scene of the festivity, where everything was in readiness for joust and revelry. Salutes were fired by the “Roebuck” as soon as General Howe stepped on shore, which were echoed by the “Vigilant” and several smaller vessels up and down the river.
“The fleet at the wharves,” says our journalist, “consisting of about three hundred sail, adorned with colors, and together with the procession, exhibited a very grand and pleasing appearance.” Very grand it must have been to see those knights, ladies, and officers, in their rich costumes, leaving behind them the gay scene on the river, and walking between two files of grenadiers up the avenue toward the house! The bravest display of the kind that the New World could afford, for Philadelphia then excelled all the other Colonial cities in size, culture, and importance; and here, beside the flower of the English army, were met some of the most beautiful women of the day.
Passing up this avenue, the company entered a lawn, four hundred yards on every side, where all was prepared for the exhibition of a tournament according to the laws of ancient chivalry. Here were two pavilions, with rows of benches rising one above the other; on the front row of each were placed seven of the principal young ladies of the county, arrayed in white Poland dresses of Mantua with long sleeves, a gauze turban spangled, and sashes round the waist. Seven of them wore pink sashes with silver spangles, and the others white with gold spangles. All bore in their turbans favors destined for their respective knights. Those who wore pink and white were called the Ladies of the Blended Rose, and were Miss Auchmuty, Miss Peggy Chew, Miss Janet Craig, Miss Nancy Redman, Miss Nancy White, Miss Williamina Bond, and Miss Shippen. Lord Cathcart, who led the Knights of the Blended Rose in Miss Auchmuty’s honor, appeared upon a superb charger. Two young black slaves, with sashes of blue and white silk, wearing large silver clasps round their necks and arms, their breasts and shoulders bare, held his stirrups. On his right hand walked Captain Hazard, and on his left Captain Brownlow, his two esquires, the one bearing his lance, the other his shield. His device was Cupid riding on a Lion; the motto, “Surmounted by Love.”
The Ladies of the Burning Mountain, whose dress was white and gold, and whose chief was Captain Watson, superbly mounted, and arrayed in a magnificent suit of black and orange silk, were Miss Rebecca Franks, in whose honor Captain Watson appeared, with the motto “Love and Glory,” Miss Sarah Shippen, Miss P. Shippen, Miss Becky Bond, Miss Becky Redman, Miss Sally Chew, and Miss Williamina Smith.
In all descriptions of the Meschianza related by eye-witnesses, the Shippen sisters are spoken of as having taken a prominent part in the entertainment. Only within a few years has a letter from a member of the family controverted this statement, in the following terms:
“The young ladies [the daughters of Chief Justice Edward Shippen] had been invited and had arranged to go [to the Meschianza]; their names were upon the programmes, and their dresses actually prepared; but at the last moment their father was visited by some of his friends, prominent members of the Society of Friends, who persuaded him that it would be by no means seemly that his daughters should appear in public in the Turkish dresses designed for the occasion. Consequently, although they are said to have been in a _dancing_ fury, they were obliged to stay away. This same story has, I know, come down independently through several branches of the family, and was told to me repeatedly, the last time not more than two years ago, by an old lady of the family, who was a niece of Mrs. Arnold and her sisters, and who has since died.”[5]
Major André includes the Shippens in his description of the entertainment printed in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ in August, 1778. The discrepancy between his statement and the family letters can be accounted for only upon the supposition that, like the modern reporter, André sent off his copy before the ball had taken place; or perhaps the “dancing fury” of his daughters had such an effect upon the Chief Justice that, at the last moment, the girls were allowed to go.
Beautiful, brilliant, and fascinating, full of spirit and gayety, the toast of the British officers, Miss Peggy Shippen seems so much a part of the Meschianza that we incline to the latter theory, being almost as unwilling to spare her and her sisters from the ranks of beauty as were the gallant young officers who were prepared to do battle in their honor.
As soon as the fair ladies were seated upon the benches prepared for them, the crowd on the left gave way, and the Knights of the Blended Rose appeared mounted on white steeds elegantly caparisoned and covered with white satin ornamented with pink roses. “These knights,” says our journalist, “were dressed in white and pink satin, with hats of pink silk, the brims of which were covered with white feathers. Each knight had his squire on foot, dressed also in white and pink, with the addition of a cloak of white silk. Every squire carried a spear and shield, each of which had a different device and motto.”
The knights, having all ridden around the lists and saluted the ladies, sent their herald, with two trumpeters, to the Dulcineas with this message: “The Knights of the Blended Rose, by me their herald, proclaim and assert that the ladies of the Blended Rose excel in wit, beauty, and every other accomplishment all other ladies in the world, and if any knight or knights shall be so hardy as to deny this, they are determined to support their assertion by deeds of arms, agreeable to the laws of ancient chivalry.”
The trumpets then sounded, and the herald returned to the knights, who rode by, saluted the Dulcineas, and took their places on the left hand, about one hundred yards distant.
The crowd opening on the other side, a herald in orange and black, with a picture of a burning mountain on his back, rode forward to assure the fair ones of the Burning Mountain that their claims to wit, beauty, and all other charms, _par excellence_, should be vindicated by the knights whose colors they wore, “against the false and vainglorious assertions of the Knights of the Blended Rose.”
The field marshal, Major Gwynne, now gave the signal, upon which a glove was thrown down by the chief of the White Knights, which was picked up by the esquire of the chief of the Black Knights; the trumpet sounded, and the fight was on, under the fire of many bright eyes from the pavilions where the Queens of Beauty were seated.
Lances were shivered, pistols fired, and finally, in the midst of an engagement with broadswords, Major Gwynne rode in between the combatants, declaring that the ladies were abundantly satisfied with the proofs of valor and devotion displayed by their respective knights. These fell back, and, joining their companies, passed on, the White Knights to the left, the Black to the right, saluting their ladies when they reached the pavilions, after which they passed through the triumphal arch, in honor of Lord Howe, and ranged themselves on either side. This arch was elegantly painted with naval ornaments. At the top was a figure representing Neptune, with his trident and a ship. In the interior were the attributes of that god. On each side of the arch was placed a sailor, with his sword drawn. Lord Howe being an admiral in the service, these emblems were most appropriate.
The knights’ ladies passed under the arch after the knights, who dismounted and joined them, all proceeding together along a broad avenue, brilliantly decorated, to another arch of the same size and elegance as the first, this in honor of Sir William Howe. “Upon passing this second arch,” our journalist tells us, “we entered a beautiful Flower-Garden and up a Gravel Court, ascended a flight of Steps which conducted us into the House, at the door of which we were received by the Managers of the Meschianza,--namely, Sir John Wrottesley, Sir Henry Calder, Colonel O’Hara, and Colonel Montrésor.” André mentions the same, except that he substitutes Major Gardiner for Sir Henry Calder.
Two folding-doors were opened, and the company was ushered into a large hall, brilliantly lighted, where tea, coffee, and cakes were served, and where the knights upon bended knee received the favors due them from their respective ladies. This scene must have been one of the most graceful and charming of the whole pageant, and had it not been for the remembrance of that dear Honora whose miniature he always wore, André certainly could not have remained insensible to the manifold attractions of Miss Peggy Chew, who now rewarded him for having “perilled life and limb” in her service, and whose praises are thus sung by Mr. Joseph Shippen:
“With either Chew such beauties dwell, Such charms by each are shared, No critic’s judging eye can tell Which merits most regard.
“’Tis far beyond the painter’s skill To set their charms to view; As far beyond the poet’s quill To give the praise that’s due.”
Amid blushes, soft whisperings, and compliments such as the gentlemen of that time were skilled in paying, the fair ones bestowed their gracious favors; after which the company entered another hall, elaborately decorated and hung with eighty-five mirrors, decked with rose-pink silk ribbons and artificial flowers. In this ball-room, whose walls were pale blue and rose-pink, with panels on which were dropping festoons of flowers, “when the company was come up,” says our authority, quaintly, “the Dulcineas danced first with the knights, and then with the squires, and after them the rest of the company danced.”
At half-past ten o’clock the windows were thrown open to enable the guests to enjoy the magnificent fireworks on the lawn, when the triumphal arch near the house appeared brilliantly illuminated, Fame blowing from her trumpet these words: “_Tes Lauriers sont immortels_,”--meaning Sir William’s.