Memoirs of an American Prima DonnaKellogg, Clara Louise
General
Memoirs of an American Prima Donna
Kellogg, Clara Louise
Kellogg, Clara Louise, 1842-1916; Singers -- United States -- Biography
This was true. The only thing, it seems, that could not be raised on
cotton seed was fruit; and unfortunately it was not a fruit season when
I was there.
The recollection of this trip necessitates my saying a little something
of Southern hospitality. I was not satisfied with any of the
arrangements that had been made for me. I had also taken a severe cold,
and, when we reached Charlottesville, where we were to give a concert, I
said I would not go on. This brought matters to a climax. I simply would
not and could not sing in the condition I was; and declared I would not
be subjected to any such treatment at the insistence of the management.
The end of it was that I took my maid and started for New York.
The trip at first promised to be a very uncomfortable one. Travelling
accommodations were poor; food was difficult to obtain, and I was nearly
ill. At one point, where the opening of a new bridge had just taken
place, we stopped, and I noticed a private car attached to our train,
which I coveted. Imagine my gratitude and pleasure, therefore, when the
porter presently came to me and said courteously that "Colonel Cawyter"
sent his compliments and invited me into his private car. I accepted, of
course. But this was not all. As I was making inquiries about train
connections and facilities for food, of one of the gentlemen in the
car, he realised what was before me, and said that I could go to his
home where his wife would care for me. I protested, but he insisted and
gave me his card. When we reached the station, I took a carriage and
drove to the house, where I was received very courteously. It was a
simple household of a mother, grandmother, and children, and they had
already lunched when I got there. But they piled on more coal, and in a
very short time made me a lunch that was simply delicious--all so
easily, simply, and naturally, in spite of the haphazard fashion in
which they seemed to live, as to quite win my admiration. And this
incident of Southern hospitality enabled me to proceed on my way
nourished and restored.
Another incident that I recall was of a similar nature in its
fundamental kindness. I had no money with which to pay for my berth, and
was asking the conductor if there was anyone who would cash a check for
me, when a perfect stranger offered me the amount I needed. At first I
refused, but finally consented to accept the loan in the same spirit in
which it had been offered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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