The Schooner Bay Home for Indigent and Invalid Seamen
The Circus Comes to Town
Chapter 3:
In the parlor of the Majestic Sea Side Hotel, the first three guests of the season were having tea that afternoon. Miss Abigail Van Pelt was an aging spinster, but from the very distinguished (and very wealthy) Van Pelt's. She had visited for several weeks the year before and had decided to spend the entire summer season this year in Schooner Bay. Miss Van Pelt had not cared for the up and coming Newport resort. Already it was becoming a bastion of the neuveau riche like the Vanderbilts and the George Peabody Wetmore's, and the Van Pelt's were as old money as the Astor's were. Not, of course that she couldn't build a "summer cottage" as resplendant as any other, but her family hadn't become wealthy by throwing away money on such extravagances, especially when there were lovely little hide-away places like Schooner Bay. She was waited on hand and foot, and if the decorations were not opulent, they were tasteful and the sea air just as fresh and healthful as at Newport. Better, in fact, because it was so much less crowded. And Miss Van Pelt, being well-bred and of a liberal bent, did not disdain the other, less distinguished guests of the Majestic, which was a good thing, because her companions at that afternoon tea had made their money in a clothing emporium in Binghamton, New York.
Mr. Cyrus Appleton reminded most people of Santa Claus; of middling height with a round belly and cheery red cheeks over his beard he had an easy laugh and great facility at putting people at ease. Under the jolly exterior, he had impeccable taste and an excellent eye for the coming fashion trends, making his clothing store in Binghamton the most successful in the northern half of New York State. His wife, Mollie Carruthers Appleton was similarly outgoing, although she had a twittering little laugh that could annoy Miss Van Pelt if it was used excessively. The Appleton's had just returned from Paris after having seen the fashions at Worth's and Lanvin and the men's fashions in London. It was their plan to spend the early part of the summer in Maine; their son Baxter was now responsible for the day to day running of the enterprise and their presence wasn't necessarily needed. They'd already sent many letters with descriptions and drawing of the latest fashions and numerous packages of cloth of all kinds.
The trio spoke about the arrival of the circus and agreed to pay it a visit for the performance on it's second day. In the meanwhile, they were curious about the construction of the hotel across the road. A large sign proclaiming it to be the future site of the "Schooner Bay House" was already standing and the pilings were in place with the framing just starting. If weather was cooperative, it could conceivably be open for business at the end of the season.
As they were speaking of the new enterprise, the Majestic's principal owner, Mr. Abner Washington ("Yes, George Washington and I are very distantly related!") and the manager, Mr. Johnson Carlyle entered the parlor and greeted their guests.
"Please join us, gentlemen," Miss Van Pelt urged. "We were just speaking of the construction across the road. I am sure that you are not happy with it."
"No, indeed we are not," replied Mr. Washington.
"We understand that it is to contain fifty guest rooms. A building of that size would be a monstrosity," added Mr. Carlyle.
"Indeed!" concurred Mr. Appleton. "You would be overrun! The seaside would be teeming with people."
"Yes. I think that it would start to feel like Steeplechase Park in Coney Island…all the crowds and the noise and men walking around selling food and drinks…" Mrs. Appleton added gravely. "It would entirely change the character of this area."
"I wonder what the townspeople think of this?" asked Miss Van Pelt. "I think your hotel is perfectly sized so that it doesn't overwhelm Schooner Bay and make it less desirable. In addition, the Majestic has already earned a reputation of attracting a 'certain class' of clientele. The Schooner Bay House can't help but make the area much less exclusive."
"We are certainly aware of all of these issues," responded Mr. Washington. "Unfortunately, we are not able to prevent the construction of this new hotel, even though we expressed our concern to the county in regard to the damage to the dunes which could wipe out both edifices in a bad storm. We are considering obtaining a second site on the other side of the town that overlooks the bay but is situated on higher ground and surrounded by woods. The parcel could hold one building, so we wouldn't have to be concerned with any competition nearby."
"And in addition, being higher up, the building would benefit from cooler breezes and not be subject to the smells of the port activities," advised Mr. Carlyle.
"How very interesting," responded Mrs. Appleton. "How far away would that be?"
"Not terribly far," answered Mr. Washington. "Do you know where the Schooner Bay Home for Invalid and Indigent Seamen is? The plot of land is just past it on Gregg Road.
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While Mr. Washington was discussing the new hotel with his guests and his managers, Josiah Turner, Head of the Schooner Bay Town Council and the town's Justice of the Peace was looking at a letter that the county had sent to him. They'd received a request to purchase land just outside of the town limits, and as a courtesy, they were informing the Town Council about the issue.
Mr. Turner rubbed his head. This was going to be bad news for so many different reasons. A headache was already beginning to grip his skull. He decided to call an emergency meeting of the council to discuss the problem. And while he was at it, he might as well call in those members of the Board of Trustees of the Schooner Bay Home for Invalid and Indigent Seamen who weren't already council members. Everyone would be at the circus the next evening, and he would inform the various parties about the meeting. He took a deep breath and realized that he would be wise to invite the ghost of Captain Daniel Gregg to the meeting also. After all, it was his property that abutted the parcel of land that the county was considering selling to Abner Washington and his partners David Wentworth and Charles Watt. Turner had already had plenty of dealings with "The Three W's" of Washington, Wentworth and Watt. Wentworth was the partner with the money after having struck a silver vein in Nevada that turned into the famous "Thunderstruck" mine. Watt was a real estate lawyer and Washington had also put a significant amount of money into the venture from his family's land in tobacco growing regions of Virginia and North Carolina. They were well-seasoned businessmen with plenty of capital. They were likely to get what they wanted.
