Society Harlequin

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 602, 2 March 1929, Page 18

Society Harlequin

: NEW YORK JESTER WHO j ! STORMED WALLS OF NEW | 1 YORKS EXCLUSIVE “400.” ! I "HAPPY” HARRY LEHR

pwv—is royal highness iIbpIS/'tlli rRINCE JOCKO was I j:| announced as the guest [jl BsWSrH H of honour. The dinner 'i was given in Newport ' Cl® 7 / in the ’nineties, when the so-called Four Hundred was still a close corporation, striving to flee from the boredom of its own exclusiveness. And so when “Prince Jocko” proved to be a pet monkey, dolled up in proper evening clothes, and when he occupied his seat of honour at the table with a certain amount of poise, until the champagne went to his head, most of Harry Lehr’s guests welcomed the occasion as an original and charming frolic. Even when the monkey, overfed by sedulous society women and overstimulated by the brand of champagne of which Mr. Lehr was a super-salesman, so forgot his manners as to climb into the chandelier and pelt the guests with wine glasses,” as Courtney Terrett records in the New York “Telegram,” the “monkey dinner” was not felt by its participants to be a serious breach of good taste or morals, and present-day commentators declare that it was Arcadian in its innocence compared to what some parties have since become. But in those days of the “mauve decade” the doings of the Four Hundred were watched by the public with a jealous interest which readily became censorious, and when the news of the Newport “monkey dinner” got into the papers, it aroused a storm that swept the country. Scathing editorials were printed, denunciatory sermons were pr.eached, and the orgies of Nero and Heliogabalus were dragged from ancient history as shocking examples of the kind of thing society would come to if it didn’t watch out. All of which marked the high spot in the singular career of Harry Symes Lehr.

H

The former court jester of society, remarks a writer in the New York

“World,” lived to see his audacity outmodel and his socially elect friends indifferent to his misfortunes. And wo read on:

His death writes finis to a career of social climbing generally conceded to be the national record for speed, ingenuity and effectiveness. By female impersonations and bizarre clown stunts of the P. T. Barnum variety, executed with uncanny tact and Napoleonic strategy, the obscure son of an attache at the German Consulate in Baltimore alpen-stocked his way into New York’s social limelight. In time his accession to wealth as well as social prominence seems to have dulled his puckish spirit. Society’s court jester of the early 1900’s became a testy old gentleman who criticised with chilly disapproval all hilarious stunts of the genus that brought him fame in his youth. The man who formerly refused to interrupt conversation with his pet parrot to listen to Mrs. Astor, the social dictator, developed in his later years a phobia for the very animals which had helped him to build his social prestige for wit. Lehr’s social career began officially at a Baltimore public fountain. After-

the-party exhilaration inspired him to organise a wading party with a giddy but prominent society matron. This escapade, quite a devilish affair for the mauve decade, was telegraphed all over the country. The blonde, stocky young German with the high-pitched voice and effeminate mannerisms was launched on a career that made him the most popular character in gossip columns for the next 20 years. The fountain coup gave “Happy” Harry visions of grandeur. He departed for New York armed with introductions to lights of the “400.” Here he met George Kessler, sales manager of the house of Mumm, and flashed lus letters. It appears that his charm of manner and Baltimore prestige made the desired impression, for he was hired to circulate among the gilded bars of the city with a £3,000 expense account to make champagne popular. It was iu this capacity that he first met Mrs. Astor and Mrs. Pish, who, regardless of wealth, arrogantly excluded from their circle all who sullied their hands with trade that was not Wall Street or railroads. His first chance to get a foothold on slippery social ladder came at a public ball during bis first month in this city of the “400.” Mrs. William Astor, gowned in a gown of unrelieved white, entered with queenly dignity, surrounded by a retinuee of sycophants, who murmured compliments with every step.

“And how do you like my gown?” inquired the great lady of the unknown young man who stood in her path. “Not at all,” retorted Harry, the social Napoleon on his first battlefield. “You need colour.” With that Parthian thrust he reached for a bunch of roses and placed them against the white gown of the Astor dowager. Refreshed by his audacity and charmed by bis manner, the social dictator of the “400” invited Harry to call. On his first visit to the holy of holies of the elite world he was said to have begun by selling a eellar full of Mumm's champagne and ended by playing the piano. A few months later, we learn that he edited the Astor invitation lists with a free hand, planned bizarre entertainments, and worked by day and night to save the social leaders from the boredom brought on by the exclusive atmosphere of their little world. Harry Lehr created astonishment by his antics as a female impersonator. He was said to have broken into a stag party at Delmonico’s in the guise of a beautiful charmer and caused a rousing scandal before his wig was torn off. At the urgent request of some of his (Continued on Page 19.)