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A surprise that backfired

DAYS OF FUTURE PAST Richard Swainson

The ‘flash mob’ is a decidedly 21st century phenomenon. Seemingly random people gathering in a public space, performing prearranged material. Perhaps passe´ in 2021, it nevertheless featured in Dunedin’s

Octagon back in July, with 50 red clad dancers gyrating to the haunting strains of Kate Bush’s Wuthering Heights.

One hundred and thirty years ago there was an attempt at a ‘flash mob’ in Cambridge. Admittedly, it went under another moniker. It was also far from a success.

The name and details of the organiser of this stilted event are unknown.

He was a gentleman new to Cambridge, referred to in the correspondence pages of the Waikato Times only as the ‘‘Secretary’’.

What is clear is that in early November 1891 he attempted to surprise someone in the family of Mr R.W. Sargent, a noted jeweller and local philanthropist. The most likely candidate was Sargent’s daughter, Miss K. Sargent.

The Secretary planned a surprise birthday party. For reasons best known to himself, he chose a public venue rather than a private residence.

Given his relative youth, we can assume perhaps that his living circumstances precluded playing host in his own home.

The party invitations were described as ‘‘delightful cards’’. Detailed explanations around premise, location and timing were provided.

Surprise was paramount. Many were invited.

The Waikato Times took uncommon pleasure in the would-be soiree’s failure, announcing, ‘‘surprise parties do not ‘catch on’ in Cambridge’’.

‘‘Great preparations were made for one last week’’, the paper reported, ‘‘but at the appointed time only five individuals turned up at the rendezvous and of those four were ladies . . . we fancy the promoter of the party must have got the surprise — a true case of hoisted on one’s own petard’’.

A week later the negativity continued in a letter to the editor by a Cambridge resident signing himself ‘Collar and Cuffs’.

The correspondent drew attention to the Secretary’s ignorance of the rules of ‘‘good society’’.

‘‘Respectable parents’’, he suggested, ‘‘would not allow their young daughters to meet him [Secretary] without chaperons under a verandah in a public street at 7.30pm’’. Surprise parties were an affront to the Presbyterian sensibility.

History

en-nz

2021-11-27T08:00:00.0000000Z

2021-11-27T08:00:00.0000000Z

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