BY STEVEN JUPITER
BRANDON—On an obscure shelf in an obscure cabinet in the Brandon Free Public Library lay a coral-pink announcement for an event that took place in Brandon on July 24, 1907: a trip around the world by horse-&-buggy “boat,” leaving from the “Brandon Inn Pier” and traveling to Ireland, Germany, Italy, Japan, and America, all for the extremely reasonable price of 50 cents (approximately $15 today).
According to an article in The Brandon Union dated July 26, 1907, this excursion was sponsored as a fundraiser by the Brandon Congregational Church. All in all, 200 people made their way “around the world,” stopping at the homes of folks who had volunteered to deck out their houses in some approximation of their assigned countries.
For example, the home of Charles H. Ross stood in for Japan. Someone was dressed up as the Emperor, “in the midst of Oriental splendor…surrounded by many Japanese maidens in costume who sat on the floor about the throne.” Guests “received tea and cakes in true Japanese fashion” from the hands of the maidens. According to The Union, “the manners and costumes of Japan were most acceptably portrayed.”
Next stop was the home of Miss Alice Harrison, acting the role of Ireland. ‘The sight that greeted the eyes first was the chicken-yard and the traditional pig-pen which were located at the front of the house.” Fleshing out the ambience were several laundry tubs. Lest the atmosphere sink into drudgery, “[s]everal Irish maidens made lighter their tasks by frequently doing a jig.” Guests were regaled with “a woeful tale of domestic trouble” by an Irishwoman and then bidden to kiss the “Blarney Stone,” which sat in the corner of a room. “Irish moss with jelly” was offered as refreshment.
At the next destination, meant to be both Germany and the Netherlands, the “Kaiser” welcomed visitors to “Hamburg,” where “three maidens in quaint Holland costumes with plaited hair” served coffee and cakes. This fine Germanic sojourn took place at the home of Maj. J.W. Bisbee.
Voyagers then made their way to “sunny Italy,” at the residence of Q.S. Backus. Entertainment was provided there by an organ grinder with a monkey, though “everyone knew that the monkey was really a man despite the hairy animal skin which enveloped him.” King Victor Emanuel and Queen Helena held court “in the throne room.” The Queen wore a white satin gown with court jewels and the King wore a military uniform of high rank. Everyone partook of the classic Italian meal of “dainty sandwiches and delicious lemonade.” Of course, these delights were served by “charming Italian women in typical costume.”
The whirlwind tour concluded with a visit to New York, at the home of the G.H. Young family, where Uncle Sam and George Washington embraced the weary travelers with open arms. Refreshments were served by “Puritan maidens in white.” Yankee Doodle played the fife while Pocahontas made small talk with the guests. Susan B. Anthony “made a mirth-provoking speech advocating women’s suffrage.” Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Bacon of Forestdale, as themselves, played several patriotic tunes on the banjo.
Surely “jetlagged” and exhausted, the travelers were deposited back at the “Brandon Inn Pier,” their horizons immeasurably broadened by cakes and maidens. How could they ever be content to stay in Brandon when they’d rubbed shoulders with royalty and eaten Irish moss?
All this, my dear readers, for the equivalent of $15 per person in 2023. Would we—could we—even attempt something like this today?
