Red Devils -9 - Trip to the Theater

I spent some time looking through the file with my father’s work in it before I went back to the Indian interviews. I was surprised to see a personal letter to James Gordon Bennett, and Cora Sue and my names popped out of it, so, of course, I read it. It was from the man who Pa worked for on the Bismarck Tribune, Mr. Clement Lounsberry. He was telling Mr. Bennett, that he felt that he should do something to help Cora Sue and me, the poor orphans, as he put it, and suggested that he give us some money. He said that Mr. Bennett, although benefiting from Pa’s writing, had not contributed anything towards the costs of his journey to the war zone - his horse, food, and presumably he had to pay for a scout to take his reports back. I felt very odd as I read it. Somehow Mr. Bennett’s largess towards us doesn’t seem quite so special, now that I know that he had to be told to do it.

I wanted to find interviews for Sitting Bull or Crazy Horse as those were the two most familiar Indian chiefs' names, but they didn’t seem to be in the files we were given. But eventually I found this one which although it was not labeled as such, seemed to be mostly about Crazy Horse although not really very much about the Battle of the Little Bighorn.

Crazy Horse was typically silent. He was known for not boasting about his deeds, or making public speeches of any sort. The longest recorded statement by him is barely 200 words, and appropriately enough the utterance most associated with him is the two word Lakota war cry, "hoka hey"  which you is translated as. Today is a good day to die.

Crazy Horse was very much involved in the Battle of the Little Bighorn - or the Battle of the Greasy Grass as the Sioux called it, but apparently Sitting Bull was physically pretty weak, due to a skin slicing ceremony he has undergone a few days before.

Crazy Horse the most tactically lethal. If you were an American soldier and you got close enough to see the lightning bolt on Crazy Horse's face, your chances of surviving were pretty slim, statistically speaking.

Unlike many of the Sioux, who fought in elaborately feathered and beaded buckskin regalia that made them look like fearsome glittering birds of prey, Crazy Horse wore only painted spots on his dust-darkened body, a breech clout, a small stone tied behind one ear, and a single hawk feather in his headband.

He didn't take scalps, but he counted coup almost beyond reckoning in the Sioux's incessant wars against the Crows, Snakes, Shoshones,

On the battlefield, Crazy Horse was renowned for his tactical brilliance and physical bravery, as well as his ruthlessness toward the American invaders. He had seen with his own eyes what trusting the Americans got you - howitzer shrapnel in the belly and mutilated women, children and old men, the Indian trophy Indian body parts sold at high price among virtuous Americans in Virginia City and Denver.

For his part, General Phil Sheridan, U.S. Army Commander in the West, was widely credited with saying "the only good Indian is a dead Indian. You will receive no overtures of peace or submission from the Indians, so you will attack and kill every male Indian over twelve years old."

Both Cora Sue and I were drained by our reading on that morning, but we had to put it all behind us, because we had the rest of the weekend to get through.

Mrs. Hudson, who said to call her Amy, popped into our office at  1.15, and asked if we were ready asshe had a carriage waiting. So we put our notes away, and put the papers reluctantly back into the folders, and went with her.

Amy is young and chatty and dressed in a very stylish royal blue taffeta dress. If she thought we were uncharacteristically quiet, she didn’t mention it and I doubt if she did notice, as she was the sort of person who never let anyone else get a word in edgewise.

As soon as we were away from the newspaper office, her gossip started, and although I felt it was somewhat disloyal to our benefactor, Mr. Bennett, I couldn’t help but be interested in what she said.

“You know Mr. Bennett is on his yacht now. It’s a shame you couldn’t have met him, as he is rather a nice man, if you like the type. By that I mean, that he is a showman, a socializer and a womanizer, and he drinks way too much. Did you hear about his engagement party?”

We said no, but she had already gone on.

“Well in 1877, he was engaged to this very fancy lady, really proper she was, and her name was Caroline May. The engagement was big news in New York society circles. The Edwardsville Intelligencer, reported it in November 1876:

“Well, Mr. Bennett was invited to a party to announce their engagement at his future in-laws’ house. To cut a long story short, he drank way too much and was really out of his mind and didn’t know what he was doing. Otherwise he wouldn’t have done it.”

She giggled, “I shouldn’t say it out loud, but it is so funny. He made water (you know what I mean, he urinated) into the fireplace in front of everybody. Well, needless to say the engagement was very quickly off, and not only that, he had to stand a challenge by his no-longer prospective brother-in-law, Fredrick May, to fight a duel for the humiliation he had caused his family. They both fired wide, so no one was hurt. But first, in January of that year, James was publicly horsewhipped by Fredrick. So it is no wonder he decided to leave the States for a while. I’ll tell you more about him later.”

By this time we had reached the theater, and just next door to it was a little cafe, where we ordered sandwiches and coffee. Amy went on with her story about Mr. Bennett.

“I’m not saying James Gordon Bennett isn’t a good newspaperman. He is, although he doesn’t have nearly as much influence as he would do if he were here in person. I mean, if you were on a 314 foot yacht, which cost $6,000,000, I expect you would not be as interested in hard work either. He invested money in trying to get first to news stories. For instance, did you know that he sent the traveling correspondent of the Herald Tribune, Henry Morton Stanley, to Africa to be the first to find the lost explorer, David Livingstone? And if he does that, what a scoop for the newspaper.

“Last year he sent G.W. De Long on an exploration of the North Pole, so when that comes off, again he will have a first and important story. But,” she said giggling again, “What he might be most remembered for is going into restaurants and attempting to pull the table clothes out from under the diners’ food, without breaking their dishes. But, of course, he usually failed. He always paid the restaurants for the breakages the next day, but they dreaded seeing him come into their establishments. But we can’t sit here and chat all day. Let’s go into the theater.”

Then we went to the 5^thAvenue Theatre, whose name had just recently changed to the Madison Square Theatre, to see our play. It was full, despite it being a matinée. We bought programs and found our seats.

Here is the review from the New York Herald.

The past month has witnessed the production of several novelties at the various theaters of this metropolis, decidedly the most important of which has been Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan's new opera comique "Pirates of Penzance." It was first presented on Wednesday, December 31st, at the Fifth Avenue Theatre, before an exceedingly brilliant audience. A great success.

If you compare it with "Pinafore," you will discover that, as far as plot goes, it is vastly its superior, and that its language and humor are of a higher and more subtle order. The music, too, is much more elaborate and better orchestrated, but then it is not so catching and mirthful. The humor of the piece consists in the gravity of the music, applied to the most ridiculous situations imaginable. The acting and singing were capital.

I cannot say I admired Mr. Ryley's Major-General as much as I did Tom Whiffen's Admiral Porter, one of the very funniest and most intelligent performances I ever beheld. But still, Mr. Ryley's acting and singing were excellent. Capital also was Mr. Broccolini as Richard, the Pirate Chief. Mr. Hugh Talbot was clever as the Apprentice; and Mr. Furneaux Cook made us roar as the Lieutenant Samuel.

The ladies were charming. Miss Blanche Roosevelt availed herself of every opportunity to achieve success, and succeeded in obtaining it; and Miss Alice Barnett was so excellent as Ruth, "the pirating maid of all work," that she may be fairly pronounced to have "created" a part as distinct as any seen on the stage here in some time. It was an original and delightful performance.

Everything went, as it always does at the Fifth Avenue, on "oiled wheels," and that the applause was boisterous, and that the encores prolonged the entertainment at least an hour beyond the limit originally fixed for it. Of course, Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan had to appear again and again before the curtain, and bow their thanks to the amused and delighted audience.

What a wonderful play it was, and we all enjoyed every minute of it. To be specific, it is an opera, not a play. My music teacher, Mr. Guernsey, was very scathing when I told him we were going to watch it. He called it modern trash music. But it seems to me that for the majority in the world, this sort of music will make a far greater impression than all the compositions by Bach. I can’t wait to tell my friend George Roberts about it. He and I are the ones who are expected to have musical careers of some sort. But I want to qualify as a music teacher, as I am sure that will be more useful to me than the occasional limelight of a performance. I practice the piano faithfully each day, but cannot really see myself as playing every night in front of an audience. Even the little recitals we have now make me so nervous.

We had in our itinerary that we were going to have a walking tour of New York City en route to our restaurant, but at the last minute, Mrs. Hudson decided that we should go to her favorite restaurant, Delmonicos, which is about seven miles south of our theater, so we took a cab.

Delmonicos, at 56 Beaver Street, has been famous since its opening in 1837. Cora Sue and I had Delmonico Steaks and Delmonico Potatoes, and Baked Alaska for dessert. Mr. Hudson had Lobster a la Delmonico, and Mrs. Hudson had Omelet a la Vanderbilt with Madeira Sauce, and they both had Tutti Fruit for dessert.

Reading from the menu, I found out this. Baked Alaska was originally named omelette surprise or omelette à la norvégienne but was changed in 1876 with  the newly acquired territory of Alaska.

  The chef, Charles Ranhofer came over to our table to see how everything was, and Cora Sue couldn’t help exclaiming over the Delmonico potatoes. She said it was the best birthday meal she had ever had. Her birthday is on February 5^th, on Thursday, and she will be 18. I won’t be 17 until August 20^th. The chef had everyone sing Happy Birthday to her, and she was both pleased and embarrassed. And later, after we finished the meal, another of the cooks, Alessandro Filippini, surreptitiously gave her a piece of paper with Happy Birthday written on the outside, and inside was recipe for Delmonico Potatoes, Steak and Sauce.

Delmonico Potatoes.

Parboil four washed, quartered, and unpeeled potatoes until just undercooked. Shred coarsely with a grater

Place in a frying pan with 3/4 cup cold milk 1/4 c cream 1/2 tsp salt1/4 tsp. pepper 1/4 tsp. grated nutmeg folded in gently and saute on medium-heat, gently stirring occasionally for ten minutes. Then add 1 Tbsp. grated Parmesan cheese gently fold in again.

Transfer the potatoes into a buttered shallow casserole dish, sprinkle another  tablespoon grated Parmesan cheese over and set in a hot oven to bake for six minutes, or until they're a nice golden brown remove and serve immediately.

 Delmonico Steak

Nicely trim and lightly flatten with a cleaver a tender sirloin steak of one and a quarter pounds. Mix on a plate one tsp salt, half tsp pepper, with a Tbsp oil and gently roll the steak in the seasoning; arrange on the broiler and broil on a brisk fire for eight minutes on each side. Remove and dress on a hot dish. Pour hot Bordelaise sauce over and serve.

For the sauce, finely chop six small, very sound, peeled shallots and place them in a small saucepan with 1/2 cup red wine, and let reduce on the fire to half the quantity. Then pour one quarter cup warmed tomato sauce and one half cup warmed beef stock. Season with a 1/4 t. salt and a very little cayenne pepper and let boil very slowly for eight minutes. Shift the pan on the corner of the range, then add, little by little, half an ounce good butter, and continue mixing until the butter is thoroughly dissolved.

What a full day, and still our visit at St. Patrick’s Cathedral to end our visit to New York tomorrow.