Ladies of St. Augustine's Past

Some Monologues from my play, Ladies of St. Augustine's Past. The play takes the form of the famous Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters.

The town of St. Augustine came upon bad times despite its glorious Spanish history. But all that was turned around with the arrival of Henry Morrison Flagler who changed the city forever. The lively goings on of the rich and famous from the United States and Europe at Flagler’s Hotel were reported in the Tatler magazine which Anna M. Hughes Marcotte helped found in 1892. Married to Captain Marcotte she had faced the Sioux at Fort Rice and Fort Lincoln, journeyed with her Captain from Fort Lincoln in 1873 to what is now Fargo with temperatures between 28 and 48 degrees below zero. We can only imagine that facing such dangers only sharpened her wit in preparation for writing the chit-chat page in the Tatler.

Anna Marcotte here with a gossipy tale from
The pages of Tatler magazine about a party
Of elegant ladies and gentlemen from Chicago,
Guests at the Cordova Hotel where they never ceased
To speak of alligators, expecting to see them on the
Streets, complaining that they only saw little ones
That kids could take home in cigar boxes, and
Never a sign of the dreaded six-foot Florida gators.
Mr. John Conlon grew tired of all this whining that
“the large ones were not seen”, spoke with a well-known
Prankster, Mr. Moorehead, and then proposed that the
Chicagoans should not miss the alligator race around
The corridors of Ponce de Leon Hotel, offering
The tourist’s special reserved seats! A Mrs. Perry
Asked if there were no danger from the giant tails?
But Mr. Conlon assured her that the gators would
Be harnessed like a horse, the tail firmly secured
To every giant galloping alligator’s back. Showing
No fear our Chicagoans paraded across the street
Giving up their tickets at the Hotel door, and ecstatic
They were seated in the Rotunda, where they paid
Little attention to the showy guests parading about
Henry Flagler’s masterpiece, but as time went by
The Chicagoans grew impatient, but were assured
The race would take place, though in the courtyard
Since the Hotel corridors were terribly overcrowded.
The tourist party strolled amidst exotic plants and trees,
Until informed by Mr. Moorehead that the race, alas
Could not be held because the largest alligator had
Escaped and was running freely about the grounds!
The ladies screamed, raised their skirts, and ran to
Their ‘natural protectors’, and clutching their men,
They begged to be taken away, while the feisty
Mr. Condon took his orange-wood stick going
In pursuit of that dangerous creature, poking
Under bushes and among the flowers for the
Six-foot alligator that was nowhere to be found!
Finally the ladies dropped their skirts and tiptoed off
But not before Mrs. Perry was overheard to ask a passing
Guest in awe “if the dreadful alligators often got away”
Unfortunately for the pranksters this gentleman was not
In on the game and he revealed to the poor indignant
Ladies that never was such a race about the corridors
Of the grand hotel since the ferocious alligators lived far
From such luxurious surroundings, thank god, in murky
Jungle waters and could not be harnessed like a horse!
The blushing Chicagoans hurried off and we can presume
They will do their best to return the prankish favor some
Other day and thus gave us yet another Tatler tale to
Please the readers of our charming Chit Chat pages.


Introduction to Gracie Belle
Miss Gracie Belle ran the most elegant house for Ladies of Eden on Spanish Street. The Madame entertained guests from Flagler’s Hotel which in turn supplied the elegant cuisine. Gracie’s ladies were chosen for their unique character traits, special qualities that sent clientele galloping to the front door at opening time every evening.


Good evening. Welcome to Le Grande Chalet,
A house for Ladies of Eden, here to please the
Gentlemen of St. Augustine in good standing.
This evening, Henry Flagler’s chef has sent us
Pâté en Croûte, oysters on the half shell
To perk up our older guests, Duck Breasts with Pears,
Carré D’Agneau, Salmon Au Champagne,
Crepes with Red Current Jelly, Lady Finger pudding,
Sorbét aux Fruits de la Passion, and those
Scrumptious little cream puffs I love!
No wonder lusty males, fleeing their angelic wives,
Come in droves to Gracie Belle’s, despite the
More convenient secret cubicles on the
Third floor of Flagler’s Riviera Hotel
In pursuit of my charming hostesses dressed in
Haute couture, without old-fashioned constricting
Corsets, well draped to display loose hips and derriere.
Oh what games these gentlemen like to play!
There’s Lily, the housemaid who looks so pale!
Claire Marie the schoolteacher with horned-
Rimmed glasses and a disciplinary ruler!
Shannon the childlike virgin nurse dressed in white!
There’s dear Mimi, whose youth reflects the splendor
Of this house, and ‘tis no wonder all adore her.
But she must stay away from that hansom,
Fancy talking, good for nothing who arrives
Early, stays late, spends nothing, and upsets
Paying elderly customers with his caustic wit.
As for my French-speaking Mademoiselle,
Mais oui, Yvette, c’est très élégante, c’est perfecte,
She’s attracted to that creepy Frenchman in jodhpurs.
Sacre bleu! Since the bore’s a big spender,
Yvette must know that yawns do not become
A southern belle even if she does speak French!
Then there’s our latest addition, Rosalie Marie
She’s always late! But never mind, the girl is
Standing in for that silly Blanche who despite
Her airs and graces was far-gone to be in a
House for women without religious vows! (pause)
This is what I tell my girls. No spitting!
No leaning over the banisters displaying
Awesome female wares to guests below
When bringing a gentleman downstairs.
None of those “gestures” please. No profanity.
No raucous laughter for this is Spanish Street
St. Augustine, and we don’t want to remind
The Yankees of where yaw’l came from.
No talk of the South, ‘tis Yankees have the money.
Flirtatious, yet chaste demeanor is allowed
And you may exchange “significant” looks.
Be quiet, respectable, lady-like, the sweet
Essence of southern social refinement!
Light their cigars. Keep their glass full.
Smoke a fine cigar when offered by a guest,
Or drink my most expensive champagne.
That’s the style for this elegant house,
The best south of the Mason Dixie line,
Leather sofas, imported crystal, sterling silver,
Italian marble. Why I’ll tell yaw’l, ‘tis true,
The rich Mr. James Barton took his young lady
Straight from here to church, and whisked her
Off to New York for their honeymoon
Where she became the toast of the town! (pause)
Attention. Listen. Here come the world’s
Leaders like gallopers in a cavalry charge
At the Bull Run! So put on a smile.
Open the front door. Remember girls,
In this house, whatever a gentleman wants,
He gets!


Introduction to Diamond Lil:

The Fountain of Youth is one of the icons of St. Augustine. Undoubtedly the Spaniards did search for a well of spring water that offered hope of eternal youth and discovered St. Augustine, Florida. However it was the sassy Luella Day McConnell, Diamond Lil 1870-1927 who had the imagination and courage to create one of our city’s most distinctive historical attractions. Diamond Lil as she liked to call herself was a living phantasmagoria known by many a name for she created and re-created herself continuously throughout her exotic life.


They see me here they see me there
A phantasmagoria
Known by many names in shifting succession,
A bunch of legends so to speak.
Someone said, who I cannot say,
That I was a Murat, member of the Bonaparte family tree
Well, why not?
Diamond Lil is my favorite moniker.
See the rock in my right front tooth
There since I was in my twenties seeking gold
In the Klondike rush for fame and fortune.
No place for a lady you might say
With long nights for gossip and play.
A wild one to be sure!
Yukon lore believes I was that Lady known as Lou
At the shooting of Dangerous Dan McGrew
And maybe ‘tis true
But I’ve been branded with many a name,
Mad! Insane! Hysterical! Full of ‘lady complications’
That boring Benson Banker said
When all I did was speak the truth
Of thieves, extortionists, murderers, officialdom high and low
Fingered out by my cutting tongue
For I conjured up a thousand scenes to prick their egos large
And play those men for fools!
Oh. That was fun!
And then I met a tall handsome red-head man,
Edward McConnell whom I did wed
To become Luella Day McConnell
Rich he was (what other man would do!) with a steamboat, ferry and a mine.
Slave to no man, I availed of this new bully pulpit
To scold those crooked government officials
Who hid behind the veil of ‘public good’
But threats against my life forced us
To leave the snow and take our fortune
To sunny Saint Augustine in 1900
Where I dazzled all with my diamond tooth, ringed fingers
And a fitting ermine wrapped around my shoulders
Taken from a short tailed weasel that strikes its prey
With an accurate bite to the back of the neck.
An appropriate partner for myself so to speak!
Maybe so, but never mind,
“A lady of rare beauty and gracefulness” the Tatler hailed
When we bought some land with an old house and charming well
Surrounded by a square coquina-shell rock wall.
Soon Edward and I took off again
And why you ask? That you may not know,
For it’s a secret.
I returned two years later, alone,
Divested of my jewelry, ermine coat
And one tall husband who despite rumors that he died,
Had the strange habit of reappearing and disappearing
But all was not lost
For in my travels I acquired a new treasure,
Spanish documents to prove the landing of Ponce de Leon,
None other, mind you well, on the very property we had purchased,
And there discovered the Fountain of Youth,
Where he laid stones in the form of a cross, fifteen by thirteen
To indicate that blessed year 1513
When he discovered my backyard!
Building an archway entrance, I charged ten cents a glass
For water that gave hope of Eternal Youth to all!
Then along comes stuffy spiteful Emily Wilson,
Of failing health, no less,
And much in need of that sacred water,
Displaying her many documents to prove it was all a scam.
No one listened!
And why should they, for in 1909
The St. Augustine Record proclaimed
The cross of coquina stones a “genuine relic
Of the earliest date in St. Augustine history”!
So! Luella Day McConnell, Diamond Lil herself
Prevailed o’er all detractors.
And why not?
Though I died living dangerously in a motor accident
You find me here today, young, fair, witty,
A go-gettin female, crazy as an ermine. As ever!