In the course of a single glittering evening, half a dozen lives were ruined. Although the five or so victims would never be represented in the media, it would be cruelly incorrect to assume that their individual tragedies had no impact outside of their personal spheres. In fact, it could be argued that these scandals were so collectively disruptive that they were directly responsible for disbanding the most important social event of the season: the Montgomery Gala. With that pinnacle of tradition and security gone, it was no wonder the city’s old money society dissolved as quickly as it did after the last night of spectacle ever held in the Montgomery family’s mansion.
Here, we shall recount the unfortunate events of that fateful night…
Mary
Mary Plath had ventured onto the Montgomery family’s property in response to a job advertisement she found in the newspaper:
Due to the popularity of the tandem dinner party and cotillion, the Montgomery family always hired extra help to supplement their usual staff during the event. They made a special effort to reach out to the city’s working-class tenants to fill these positions — no doubt an act of Christian charity in their eyes — which was excellent news for a girl like Mary. The rumored salary would be more than sufficient to cover her parents’ expenses for the rest of the month, with some money left over for a rainy day. Thus, she arrived on the mansion’s doorstep wearing the dress she reserved for Sundays, trying to muster up enough charm to distract from her plain face and imperfect skin.
One of the family’s regular butlers answered the door, and Mary presented the clipping. After asking a few questions about her work experience and inspecting her scalp for lice, he took her to the servants’ quarters to receive a uniform and instructions for the evening. When the doors opened to guests at seven o’clock, the temporary staff were at their stations ready to accommodate any request or need.
Mary was assigned to work alongside a girl named Ruth Strand, whom she knew from their tenement building. She was supposed to refill drinks and clear plates while Ruth fetched and delivered each course of the meal. It was hard work, but not especially complicated. The girls worked diligently to ensure their tables wanted for nothing; after all, high-quality service meant better tips from the bankers, barristers, and businessmen who made up most of the guest list.
By the time dessert was served, Mary was thoroughly exhausted from dashing between the kitchen and the dining room. Despite her aching feet and rumbling stomach, she felt positively glutted on all of the opulence she had seen in her rounds. The luxurious clothes, the exquisite food, the glittering jewels… It was a spectacle straight out of a fairytale, a far cry from the life she knew in the tenements. She had glimpsed the good life, an easy existence free of toil or worry; it sparked a feeble bit of hope in her, which she would carry home like a little candle. This was undoubtedly the most gorgeous night of her life.
Which, of course, meant that something awful was sure to spoil it.
As Ruth carried out dessert plates, a butler pulled Mary aside and instructed her to serve coffee to the host table. Judge Montgomery, his wife, and their two daughters were seated on a raised dais near the fireplace, surveying their guests like royalty. Mary took the steaming pot and made her way up to the family, avoiding trailing skirts as she wove between the tables.
Neither the judge nor his wife paid any attention to her, but their daughters did. The eldest, a strawberry-blonde beauty with a turned-up nose, sighed loudly and beat her fan as though she were trying to ward off a bad smell. The freckled girl beside her gave Mary a kind, if somewhat pitying, smile. Knowing that she was the subject of scrutiny made Mary’s face flush, which she knew made her skin even more blotchy and uneven. The Montgomery girls had skin as smooth and creamy as porcelain; they probably blushed very prettily with one perfect rose on each cheek. She kept her head down and hoped they would go back to ignoring her intrusion on their perfect evening.
However, with her eyes so pointedly fixed on the table, Mary wasn’t paying attention to obstacles on the floor. As she passed behind the chair of the older Montgomery sister, her foot snagged the heaped fabric of a gown’s train. Suddenly, she was pitching face-first with no grip on the now airborne coffee pot. The hot black liquid soared in a polished arch before splashing all over the nearest surface: the while silk ball gown worn by the host’s youngest daughter.
The head table erupted. The judge and Mrs. Montgomery shouted for their butlers; the soaked girl screamed as coffee burned her tender skin; her older sister was also shrieking, throwing a tantrum completely unbecoming of a sixteen-year-old debutante. Mary couldn’t even get off the floor before a herd of servants stormed onto the dais. They kicked and stepped on her as they rushed to blot the ruined gown dry. The poor girl’s distraught sobbing rose above the confused babble; it was such a heart-wrenchingly pathetic sound that Mary almost started crying too. Then Ruth’s voice was in her ear, comforting her, accompanied by a pair of strong hands that hoisted her to her feet.
As soon as she was upright, Mary was face-to-face with an accusing finger. “You ungrateful little wretch!” the older Montgomery sister shouted. “You did that on purpose!”
“Step aside, Peony,” Judge Montgomery ordered.
“She did! The little tenement snipe wanted to make a scene and ruin the party! And I think she ripped my dress!”
“That’s enough, Peony. Go help your mother clean Petunia up.” The judge turned to his guests, staring raptly at the head table. “Ladies and gentlemen, everything is under control. My wife and daughters will rejoin us momentarily. In the meantime, please feel free to move to the ballroom. I’ve been informed that our musicians are set up and ready to entertain you for the rest of the evening.” This seemed to satisfy the crowd; they slowly trickled out of the dining room, chattering about the impending dances, attention fully diverted away from the disaster they had just witnessed.
Judge Montgomery finally looked at Mary, shaking uncontrollably in Ruth’s arms. “You. Get out,” he said harshly. “Fetch your belongings and leave at once.”
“Oh, please!” Mary begged. “I’m so sorry! I’ll do whatever I can to make this up to Miss Petunia! Surely there’s something –“
“Your garnished wages will be enough penance.” He scowled down at her. “Now, leave this property immediately, or I will call the police. It won’t take long for them to respond — the chief constable is here tonight.” He turned away and left the dais to join his guests.
Mary’s chin quivered. That was it — the fairytale was over, her little candle snuffed out. How would her parents react when she told them why she was coming home empty-handed? There was no way to sugarcoat the fact that she publicly humiliated one of the richest girls in the county and had been fired as a result; never mind that it was an accident. Mary pulled away from Ruth and fled the room just as her eyes started to water with shame.
In her rush to leave, she crashed into someone coming from the opposite direction and knocked him off his feet. That was the final straw: Mary burst into tears right there in the foyer, under the grand chandelier. She couldn’t even bring herself to apologize or help the man off the ground. She burst through the front doors and out into the cold night air, running as fast as she could away from the worst night of her life.
Continue to Part II!