heatre Francais_, in
which was to be given what was extensively advertised as the 'First_ Bal
d'Opera_.' The only conspicuous name in this society (which is composed
of Frenchmen) is that attached to the circular published below, but it is
reasonable to suppose that the men who got up the ball were animated by a
purely French desire to make a little money and have a good deal of
Parisian carousing, which should end, as those things do only in Paris,
in high and comparatively harmless exhilaration. But they mistake the
locality. This is not Paris. The peculiar success of the ball given
under their auspices last year was not forgotten by the class of roughs
indigenous to New York. Under the name of _Bal d'Opera_, licence, it was
found, could be had for actions that would be no where else tolerated in
a civilized community. It was found, moreover, that this description of
ball would bring together, with its promise of licence, that class of
reckless women who find opportunities to exhibit themselves in their full
harlotry to the world, too much restricted and narrowed by enactment and
public opinion not to take advantage of this one. The scenes which took
place about the entrance of the French Theatre, when the _'artistes'_
commenced to arrive, were sufficiently indicative of the character of the
entertainment. At 11 o'clock there were about a thousand men and boys
there congregated, forming an impenetrable jam, through which the police
kept open a narrow avenue for the masqueraders to pass from the coaches
to the door. This crowd was manifestly made up of the two _sui generis_
types of character which in this city have received the appellation of
'loafers' and 'counter jumpers.' Wide apart as they ordinarily may be,
on such an occasion as this they are animated by common desires and
common misfortunes. The inability to buy a ticket of admission, and the
overpowering desire to see women disporting themselves in semi-nude
attire and unprotected by any of the doubts which attach to their
characters in ordinary street life, brought these moon-calves together,
on a wet and chilly night, to stand for hours in the street to catch a
passing glimpse of a stockinged leg or a bare arm, and to shout their
ribald criticisms in the full immunity of fellowship. It was enough for
them that the women came unattended. Every mask that stepped from her
coach was beset by hoots and yells and the vile wit of shallow-brained
ruffians