228 A SAGA OF THE SEAS 
originated in its rooms. Even at the end of the century, the 
plan to make Theodore Roosevelt an unwilling vice-presi- 
dent was said to have had the same place of origin. ‘Tom 
Platt, dictatorial political boss, used to hold forth in the 
“amen corner’ of this hotel. 
During the period when Field used to stroll into the Fifth 
Avenue Hotel, its standard charge for a room and a day’s 
meals was two and a half dollars. Four meals a day were 
served, and the guests were seated at one long table. A guest 
could bring a friend to a meal without extra charge; in fact, 
as the hotel was supposed to be a home, a guest was expected 
to have occasional friends call upon him. Hospitality was the 
order of the day, and the American scene was less compli- 
cated than in modern times. 
Shortly after the Civil War, the section of New York at 
Madison Square, where Fifth Avenue crosses Broadway, be- 
gan classifying itself with the Rue de la Paix and the Suez 
canal among the great cross-roads of the world. Fashion and 
trade met at Fifth Avenue and Twenty-Third street—close to 
the Field home. This was the era of whiskers for men and 
enormous hoop-skirts for women. These adornments sym- 
bolized the respectability and elegance of the Victorians; they 
protected the masculine face and the feminine figure from 
depreciating criticism and vulgar contacts. It is a relief to 
note, however, that Cyrus Field, although he wore whiskers, 
was always natural and unaffected—never stodgy or smug. 
