Lloyd Aspinwall and Mrs. G. G. Howland the great beauties. Miss Helen Russell was elected to dance with the Prince. A very beautiful girl, whom I saw for the first time that evening, was Miss Pierrepont, of Brooklyn, who afterwards married Mr. Rutherford Stuyvesant, and who died in her early married life.
This ball, however, was more municipal than exclusive. I remember that Mr. Maunsell B. Field, a very accomplished literary man, took great interest in it, and was especially distressed when a loud explosion took place and down went the floor, a great temporary structure built over the stage and parquet of the Academy. I remember seeing strong men grow pale at this catastrophe; some women shrieked, and the Duke of Newcastle dragged the little Prince out of harm's way. One friend of mine, who had a great horror of balls, happened to stand directly over the very spot where the floor sank gently down into a sort of Y-shaped funnel and then stopped. "There," said she, "I told you so!" as her husband dragged her out. It might have been the most frightful catastrophe of the year, but it was, mercifully, not. It was easily mended, and the Prince was gayly dancing and talking and laughing over the late chasm. It was great "nuts" to him, doubtless.
I principally enjoyed talking to the Duke of Newcastle, who told me of some of his anxieties about the Prince.
"Prince, how air you? and how's your mother?" was the address of one lady to the rather astonished boy. I liked to see the gay procession of carriages and soldiers who accompanied the Prince on his way from his steamer to his hotel through crowds of gazers. The city was en fête. It was but a little city then compared with what it is now. Albert Edward bowed to right and left,
