[G2] "The Young Batchelors' Ball," Spirit of the Times, Feb. 19, 1842

The Young Batchelors' Ball—Its Belles—Its Beauty, &c.

            Were we asked to name any particular thing that has especially amused us, within a few days past, we should designate the endeavours of the Young Bachelors' Club to keep us out of their ball, which came off, according to contract, at the Odd Fellows' Hall, on Thursday evening last.  We didn't wish to attend the ball ourselves, being rather "too much" in that line lately, and so we didn't go.  How did we get a full, faithful, and an entire report of all that was said and done?  Did a widow tell it to us?  No.  Did a little bird whisper it to us?  No.  How did we get it then?  Ah, beautiful, talented, ingenious, vivacious Flib—what should we do without thee?  "Flib," said we, "we want a report of the Batchelor's Ball—polish up your ring—you understand?"  "Don't I?" replied the red haired youth—"if I don't, why you needn't mention it, that's all."

            Yesterday morning he walked into our office with the following report in his hand.

            At half past nine precisely, on Thursday evening last, I muttered a wish to myself, rubbed the ring, and in a moment I found myself standing amid the glare of gaslights, contending ith the glimpses of fair lady's eyes, and surrounded by all the show, the hum and bustle of a ball room.

            Sliding into the current of the promenade march, I moved around the room unseen and invisible by all.  I observed directly ahead of me a slim young gentleman, dressed in a span new dark brown coat, with metal buttons, light buckskin vest, black pants, black stockings and pumps.  A very pretty young lady dressed in a fawn colored silk, hung on his arm, and—but I wont be more particular, because I wish to use their conversation, and so it wouldn't be nice to picture them off too minutely.

            "Who is that lady in light pink muslin, with a countenance of surpassing sweetness, shaded by the raven tresses of her luxuriant hair, and with such swimming dark eyes?"

            "That is the pretty Miss H—n G—n, of South Fourth street, and the young gentleman with her, is her brother.  Do you know that handsome young gentleman in the blue coat and plaid pants, with a very frank, manly and open countenance?  He is talking to Miss M—n, of Southwark, one of the prettiest ladies in the room."

            "That good looking fellow is J—n H—s, a very clever young man and a clerk in one of the commission houses in Market street. That pretty girl in blue striped lawn, is—"

            "The sister of the young lady with whom H. is conversing, and that interesting girl on the right is also a sister.  The pretty trio are waited on by Mr. T. C. of Second street."

            "There's the beautiful Miss V—p—t, of Chester, dressed in a rich white satin; and that gentleman who seems quite entangled in 'the wild witchery of her fascinating charms' is Mr. G—s, merchant of Market street."

            "There's a pretty group.  Miss C. P—n, of Moyamensing, in white book muslin, neatly trimmed with blue.  There is the gentleman who waits on her—Mr. J. J. P., clerk in Market street.  The lady next to him is Miss S—s, of Eighth and Fitzwater.  She is very pretty, and her brother Edward is quite a clever looking fellow."

            "There's the beautiful Miss G—th who created such a sensation at the Fencibles' ball.  That fine, manly looking young fellow, with the long hair, aquiline nose, and with all the ease and air of a gentleman, is my friend young G—n, son of the iron merchant of Sixth street."

"He is a very handsome young man.  Pray who is that young lady who looks so remarkable pretty and interesting?"

"Miss M—e, of South street.  She is dressed very neatly in blue.  The gentleman at her side is Mr. B—d."

"There is her sister the lovely Miss Sarah.  She is one of the prettiest creatures in the ball room."

"Observe the occupants of that bench.  There is the gallant Dr. D—l, of Sixth and Chesnut; he came here with that delightful girl with those shadowy black eyes, Miss M—s, dressed in a white painted lawn.  There is the bewitching Miss M—r, of Filbert avenue, dressed in snow white.  Next to her is the interesting Miss C— Z—y, of Locust st., beside the fascinating Miss E. K—s, of Race street, and that young lady in the mouseline de laine dress is Miss H. W—r of south Second street."

"How your tongue does rattle!  Why you run over the invoice of beauty with as much glibness as a clerk in a dry goods' store would descant the praises of a new lot of silks.  That young lady in embroidered muslin is Miss M. S—s, of Eleventh street.  She is a graceful girl."

"There is one of the beauties of the room!  Miss T—r of south Second street.  What a splendid dress!  White silk, richly wrought in front, fitting beautifully on her graceful figure.  There is her friend, Miss M. W—r, of South street, also dressed in white.  How sweetly those rosy lips of hers smile, and what poetry is there in the glance of those intensely dark eyes!"

"That young gentleman seems to have become quite 'taken' with her.  I mean the good looking fellow dressed in the black coat and pants, with the rich blue satin vest, and marked by all the manner of a gentleman."

"That is Mr. W. C—r of Market street."

"Who is that lady, walking with the gentlemanly K—y, the Mayor's clerk?"

"She is called the pretty Miss S—k of Pine st."

"There is the amiable Miss P—g, of Sixth street, with her beau, Mr. D—d E—ds, who makes a capital coat, and is a clever fellow in the bargain.  That beautiful girl yonder, in plain white, is Miss U—t of Southwark.  By-the-bye, who is that gentleman conversing with Mr. E—m—s, hatter of Chestnut street?"

"That is Mr. K—y, of Plumb street, the gentleman whose mysterious marriage with Miss C— K—p, created such a sensation last summer."

"That young lady in the orange colored gauze, is Miss E—a C—r of S. Third street, one of the most splendid girls in the room.  There is Miss S—th, of Tenth street, dressed in a very handsome silk.  The lady in front of her, Madame G—t, the celebrated French milliner.  I see she is attended by her beautiful daughter.  That gentleman, Mr. M—d, of Second street, seems somewhat of a favorite with the ladies.

"But there is a greater favorite.  I mean Mr. B—n, of Front street.  He is dressed very neatly.  Byronic collar, handsome vest, luxuriant locks, and all that.  There's the signal for the waltz.  Let's see what the folks are about."

Leaving this pair, I wandered invisible through the room, feasting my vision with a full gaze on the innumerable beauties who thronged the brilliant saloon.  It was near twelve when the prize cake was handed around.  A beautiful lady, dressed in a rich white figured poult de soir—so I was told, for I don't know much about these matters—drew the prize ring.  She was styled the "belle of the ball room," and her name I heard was Miss K—r, of Southwark.  Miss M—e, of South Fifth st., drew the second prize, a beautiful bouquet.  She was a fascinating girl, so the beaux said.  The other bouquet graced the fair hands of Miss J. M—n, and there was considerable fun going on when the prize cake was being handed around.

The ball broke up about four o'clock in the morning, and I should say, as a general thing, it was decidedly a magnificent affair.

When the young bachelors try to keep the editors out next time, they had better secure my ring.—That's all.