Ainslee's Magazine, February 1913 — page 116: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

106 this man, whose one ambition seemed always to get up some entertainment to amuse others, was regarded by the gen- eral public more as an entertainment itself than as a sacred and mournful ceremony. A few weeks after we had arrived in New York, late in November, my brother Bradley and his wife were plunged into great sorrow by the death of their eldest son, and when the gay season of the holidays arrived they felt that they wanted to retire from New York for a short time. Consequently, we all went up to our native town of Albany, which has a splendid winter climate. On our arrival we put up ata hotel called The Kenmore, and were given rooms very high up in the build- ing. Mrs. Bradley Martin had a terror of fire, and said it was impossible to remain there—that we must find rooms in another hotel. At this we went to the old Delevan House, the historic hotel of Albany, and found excellent rooms. | then went out to dine, leaving my sis- ter-in-law and brother to dine in the hotel. While I was thus having dinner with friends in another part of the town, [ . heard the fire bell ring, and we all went out to see where the blaze was. Follow- ing the engines, we arrived, to my hor- ror, at the Delevan House. Here a huge crowd had collected, watching volumes of smoke belching from the windows. The darkness was lit by an occasional glare and flicker, and already, amid the shouts of the terrified guests, one heard the ominous crackling of flames, and the occasional clatter of glass falling to the pavement as the windows far aloft burst into fragments. Although four or five lines of hose were playing upon the building, they seemed to have little effect. The hissing of the water was soon drowned by the roar of the flames as they burst out in full fury. My brother and sister-in-law were dining in their apartment when they heard the alarm. The shock of the coin- cidence, their leaving one hotel on pur- pose to escape all risk of fire, only to be drawn by fate into the flames of another AINSLEE’S hotel, was quickly followed by their horror at ficding that all the corridors of the hotel were already filled with smoke. The cries of distracted women and the shouts of the men only added to their confusion. wife owed their lives to the presence of mind of a man whose name they will never know, and who, in passing, cried out to Mrs. Martin: “Here, lady! Drop on your knees and crawl. Keep your face close to the floor, and follow me.” He was in front, and the three crawled along the corridor until they came to the staircase, and thus found their way down the stairs, never know- ing from one instant to another as they thus descended whether the staircase was still entire, or whether the first flights had not already fallen into the flames. At last they reached the door which gave on the street, and were safe, just as the stairway down which they came crashed into the seething flames. It will be remembered that seventeen persons lost their lives in the fire. As for myself, I lost all my luggage, everything except the evening clothes that I was wearing. CHAPTER XXII. MRS. BRADLEY MARTIN’S GREAT FANCY DRESS BALL, Before closing these reminiscences, which have necessarily held far more personal detail than it was my desire to give them, I must tell briefly of one of the most-talked-of fancy dress balls given in New York in recent years. This was given by Mr. and Mrs. Bradley Martin at the Waldorf-Astoria on February 10, 1897. The famous ho- tel was chosen for the affair, as no pri- vate house would accommodate the nine hundred guests entertained that night. The invitations were sent out, just in time for people to make their arrange- ments, as Mrs. Martin expressly desired that all costumes should be purchased in New York, rather than Paris, in con- sideration of the slack trade conditions at home at that time. (C@) VOOLK My brother and his _. (C@