intments at this time were most simple and unostentatious.
Wine coolers were found in every well regulated house, but floral
decorations were seldom seen. At my father's dinners, given upon special
occasions, the handsome old silver was always used, much of which
formerly belonged to my mother's family. The forks and spoons were of
heavy beaten silver, and the knives were made of steel and had ivory
handles. Ice cream was always the dessert, served in tall pyramids, and
the universal flavor was vanilla taken directly from the bean, as
prepared extracts were then unknown. I have no recollection of seeing
ice water served upon any well-appointed table, as modern facilities for
keeping it had yet to appear, and cold water could always be procured
from pumps on the premises. The castors, now almost obsolete, containing
the usual condiments, were _de rigueur_; while the linen used in our
home was imported from Ireland, and in some cases bore the coat of arms
of the United States with its motto, "_E Pluribus Unum_." My father's
table accommodated twenty persons and the dinner hour was three o'clock.
These social functions frequently lasted a number of hours, and when it
became necessary the table was lighted by lamps containing sperm oil and
candles in candelabra. These were the days when men wore ruffled shirt
fronts and high boots.

I still have in my possession an acceptance from William B. Astor, son
of John Jacob Astor, to a dinner given by my father, written upon very
small note paper and folded in the usual style of the day:

Mr. W. Astor will do himself the honor to dine with Mr.
Campbell to-day agreeable to his polite invitation.

May 28th.

James Campbell Esq.
Hubert Street.

I well remember a stag dinner given by my father when I was a child at
which one of the guests was Philip Hone, one of the most efficient and
energetic Mayors the City of New York has ever had. He is best known
to-day by his remarkable diary, edited by Bayard Tuckerman, which is a
veritable storehouse of events relating to the contemporary history of
the city. Mr. Hone had a fine presence with much elegance of manner, and
was truly one of nature's noblemen. Many years ago Arent Schuyler de
Peyster, to whom I am indebted for many traditions of early New York
society, told me that upon one occasion a conversation occurred between
Philip Hone and his brother John, a successful auctioneer, in which the
latter adv