SEYMOUR DURST When you leave, please leave this book Because it has been said " Ever'thing comes t' him who waits Except a loaned book." Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library Gift of Seymour B. Durst Old York Library ■r 1 if-" CHUKCllES OF KEW YORK. THE GREAT METROPOLIS; A COMPLETE HISTORY OF METROPOLITAN LIFE AND SOCIETY, WITH SKETCHES OF PliOillNENT PLACES, PERSONS AND THINGS IN THE CITY, AS THEY ACTUALLY EXIST. Issuefl by Subscription cnly and not for sale in the Book Stores. Residents of any State in the Union desiring a copy should addresa the Publishers, and an agent will call upon them. HAETFORD: AMERICAN PUBLISHING COMPANY. E. W. BLISS & CO., TOLEDO, OHIO. BLISS & CO., NEWARK, N". J. H. H. BANCROFT & CO., SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 1869. A MIREOE OF NEW YORK. BY Entered according to Act ot Congress, in the year 1868, by AMERICAN PUBLISHING CO., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut. E 1 p <^ t r o t y (1 e (1 by L(M-t,u>.u,i .c M .V > 1) h VI I.r.E, H A K T F O U D , CONN > f TO THE GOOD MEN AND THE GOOD WOMEN WHO WALK WITH ChaRITY, AND SCATTER THE SUNSHINE OF THEIR PRESENCE IN THE DARK WAYS OF THE GrEAT CiTY, THIS UNASSUMING RECORD OF ITS LIFE IS EARNESTLY INSCRIBED. I PREFACE. The sketches in this volume, begun more than two years ago, have been continued from time to time in the midst of journalistic duties, as personal observation and inquiry furnished new facts and illustrations of the Great City. These chapters have been written to represent the outer and inner life that makes up the beauty and deformity, the good and evil, the happiness and misery, which lie around us here so closely interwoven, that only charity can judge them wisely and well. In Faith and Hope the world will disagree, But all mankind's concern is Charity. All must be false that thwart this one great end, And all of God, that bless mankind or mend. J. H. B. New- York, December, 1868. ILLUSTEATIOI^S. Page. 1. CHURCHES IN NEW YORK, . . . Frontispiece. 2. ILLUSTRATED TITLE PAGE, 3. ARCHITECTURAL CONTRASTS, 23 4. BUSINESS CONTRASTS, 23 5. STOCK EXCHANGE, BROAD STREET, 48 6. BLACKWELL'S ISLAND, 77 7. STREET VENDERS, 90 8. '-UMBRELLAS," 92 9. CHINESE CANDY DEALERS, 98 10. FORT LAFAYETTE, 109 11. THE MALL. CENTRAL PARK , .121 12. UNION SQUARE, 128 13. PILOT BOAT. 176 14. BARNUM'S MUSEUM, 1860, 176 15. THE BATTERY, 242 16. PRINTING HOUSE SQUARE, ...... 310 17. PARK BANK, BROADWAY, 344 18. WASHINGTON MARKET, 408 19. STREET ARABS, 427 20. STREET BEGGARS, 457 21. MACKERELVILLB TURN-OUT, ....... 465 22. HOWARD MISSION, - 526 23. ROOM IN HOWARD MISSION, 526 24. CITY MISSIONARY, , . . 547 25. LOW GROGGERY, 659 26. THE FIRST SNOW, 696 CONTENTS. CHAPTER 1. THE RICH AND POOR. Fashion and Famine. — Charms and Counter-Charms of the Metropolis. — Lights and Shadows Everywhere. — Life at its Best and Worst. —Marble Palaces and Squalid Tenement Houses. — What They Contain. 23 CHAPTER n. NEW YORK SOCIETY. Its Divisions and Characteristics. — The Old Knickerbocker Families. — The Cultivatedly Comfortable.— The New Rich.— The Mere Adven- turers. — Social Shams and Snobs. — The American Gentleman and Lady. ....... 31 CHAPTER III. ■W.4.LL STREET. The Banking-House of the Continent.— Money-Getting and Mammon-Wor- ship. — The Mania for Stock and Gold Operations. — The Exchange and Gold Room. — Great Wealth of the Quarter. — Its Redeeming Virtues. 40 CHAPTER IV. THE POLICE. The Force in the City. — Its Strength and Effectiveness. — The Best and Worst Class. — Their Habits and Operations. — The Station House and Prisoners. — Scenes and Characters. — Detectives and their Varieties. 50 CHAPTER V. THE SHIPPING. Sea-Ports and Sea-Thoughts. — Commerce of the Great City. — Its Trade all over the Globe. — Vessels and Sailors. — Scenes at the Dock and on Shipboard. — The People who Arrive and Depart. . . 59 CHAPTER VI. THE ROUGHS. Their Physiology and Psychology. — Haunts and Habits of the Class. — Their Education and Associations. — Defeated Justice and Dangerous Elements. — The Wild Beasts in an Unseen Lair. . . 67 8 Contents. CHAPTER VII. BLACKWEbL'S ISLAND. The Abode of Paupers and Criminals. — The Different Buildings and their Inmates. — Mysterious Babies and Notorious Thieves. — Curious Luna- tics and Peculiar Characters. — A Fancied Napoleon Bonaparte. — An Imaginary Prophet. . . . . . . 76 CHAPTER VIII. THE FIIIST OF MAY. Moving in Manhattan. — Origin of the Custom. — House-Hunting and House Hunters. — Among the Rich and Poor. — May-Scenes and Ex- periences. — Change and Chaos from the Battery to the Park. 86 CHAPTER IX. THE STREET-VENDERS. The Bohemians of Trade and Bedouins of Traffic. — News and Flower Dealers. — Dog-Fanciers and Toy-Peddlers. — Retail Shams and Small Swindles. — Bowery Breakfasts and Park-Row Dinners. — Old Clothes Hawkers and Chinese Candy-Sellers. ... 92 CHAPTER X. THE FERRIES. Their Number, Location and Business. — Different Classes of Passengers. — Occupation and Toil, Hope and Success on the Waters. — The Refluent Wave of Humanity. — The All-Night Boats. — Journalists and Printers on their Way Home. . . . . . 100 CHAPTER XL GREENWOOD. PicturesQueness of the Cemetery. — Its Extent and Range of View. — Activity of Funerals. — Sentiment and Pathos. — Burial of a Prosperous Merchant. — The Tearless Widow. — The Last of the True Wife and Mother. — The Poor Outcast at the Tomb. — Epitaphs and their Hollow- ness. — A Romantic Maiden who Would Not Die. . . 110 CHAPTER XII. THE PARKS., Decay and Abandonment of the Old Plazas. — The Central Park, its People and Prospects. — The Resort of the Wealthy and Indigent. — The Two Carriages and their Occupants. — A Pair of Nobodies. — Glit- tering Discontent. ...... 121 Contents. 9 CHAPTER XIII. THE BOWERY. The Quarter and its Habitues. — Tricks and Tradesmen There. — The Bowery Merchant's Manner of Dealing with Customers. — A Sailor and Land-Shark. — After Night-fall. — The Bowery Boy Extinct. 129 CHAPTER XIV. THE FORTUNE-TELLERS. The Mystic Tribe and its Patrons. — Dowdy Priestesses and Common- Place Oracles. — Scenes of Sorcery. — Interior of a Temple of Fate. — Eevelations about Wives. — A Tawdry Witch of Mysterious Pretension. — Superstitions of Business Men. — The Calling not Profitable. 138 CHAPTER XV. THE BOHEMIANS. Popular Idea of the Class. — The True and False Guild. — What They are and Believe. — The Original Tribe in New York. — Sketches of the Promi- nent Members. — Disreputable Specimens. — The Earnest Disciples. 150 CHAPETR XVI. THE LAGER BEER GARDENS. Their Numbers and Variety. — Peculiarities of the Manhattan Beverage.— German Characteristics and Customs. — Teutonic Simplicity and Enjoyment. — The Atlantic Garden. — Music, Tobacco, Talk and Tip- pling, ..... ^ . 159 CHAPTER XVII. THE CIHJRCHES. Their Number and Wealth — Their Liberality and Beauty. — Religion as a Form — A Fashionable Temple. — Repulsion of Humble Strangers. — An Elegant Congregation. — Characters. — Pulpit Oratory. — Genuine Christianity. . • . . .167 • CHAPTER XVIII. THE TIIEATERS. Dramatic Assumptions of the Metropolis. — Character of its Audiences. — Dramatic Temples. — Their Different Patrons. — Wallack's, Niblo's Garden, the Olympic, Pike's Opera House, the Academy of Music, the New York, the Theatre Frangais, the Broadway, Wood's, Booth's and the Bowery. ...... 175 10 Contents. CHAPTER XIX. THE DEAD BEATS. The Higher and Lower Sort. — Requirements and Peculiarities of the Calling. — Variety and Contrast of the Life. — Photograph of the Creature. — Sketch of his Career. — Reclaiming a Prodigal. — Freedom from Debt the Sole Independence. . . . . 186 CHAPTER XX. THE ADVENTURESSES. Man's Vanity and Woman's Cunning. — Oi-ig'm of the Strange "Women. — Their Ample Field in the City.— Their Mental and Moral Code.— Operations at the Hotels. — War Widows. — Examples of Interesting Poverty. — Advertising Tricks. — Emigrants. — The Traveling Sister- hood. — A Remnant of the Woman Left. . . . 19$ CHAPTER XXI. THE BOARDING HOUSES. The Fashionable Establishments and their Noticeable Features. — Mrs. Dobbs and her Patrons. — The Landlady from Life. — Weal and Woe of her Happy Family. — Comfortless Comfort of a Home. — The Salesman, Law Student and Reporter. — Dreary Dinners. — Evening Entertain- ments. ....... 205 CHAPTER XXII. HORACE GREELEY. Prevalent Ideas of Him. — His Early Years. — Establishment of the Tri- bune. — His Indefatigable Industry and Great Popularity. — His Fancy Farm at Chappaqua — His Family and Charities — His Eccentricities. — The Verdict of his Countrymen. . . . ■ 214 CHAPTER XXin. THE FIFTH AVENUE. Architecture of the Street. — Its Exclusiveness and Wealth. — Inner Life and Outward Show. — Pretension and Refinement. — Oppressive Monotony. — Gorgeous Interiors. — The Queen of the Drawing Room. — The Devotee of Fashion. — Blazing Hearths and Ashen Hearts. — Fate of the Un- recognized. — Untold Histories. . . . 219 CHAPTER XXIV. HENRY J. RAYMOND. The Beginning of his Career. — Entry into Journalism and Politics. — The Times Office. — The Elbows-of-the Mincio Article. — Personal Appear- ance and Private Affairs. — Temperamental Peculiarity. . 230 Contents. 11 CHAPTER XXV. THE BATTERY. What it was and is. — Its Historic Associations. — Its Lingering Attractions. — The Emigrant D&pot at Castle Garden. — Idiosyncrasies of Foreigners. — How They are Fleeced. — Germans, Scotch, Irish, French and Italians. . . . . . . . 236 CHAPTER XXVI. THE GAMBLING HOUSES. Twenty -Five Hundred in the City. — The Fashionable Faro Banks. — Description of their Habitues. — Vulgar Haunts and Common Black- legs. — Princely Proprietors and Plebeian Plunderers. — Phenomena of Faro. — Varieties of Gaming. .... 243 CHAPTER XXVII. HENRY WARD BEECHER. School Days and Theological Training. — Eccentricities of Character. — His •• Power and Influence in his Pulpit. — Journalistic, Political and Literary Career. — "Norwood" and the Forthcoming "Life of Jesus." — Popu- larity as a Lecturer. — His Domestic Affairs. . . 252 CHAPTER XXVIII. THE RESTAURANTS. Up-Town and Down-Town. — Eating-Houses. — Their Great Variety. — Over Five Thousand in Town. — The Guerilla System of Dining. — People You Have Met. — Lunching Makes Strange Companions. — Late Suppers. — Elegant Dissipation. ..... 260 CHAPTER XXIX. MANTON MARBLE. The " Man of the World." — His Early Love of Journalism. — His Experi- ence in Boston. — The Great Democratic Organ. — Its Antecedents and Progress. — Shrewd Management of the Editor-in-Chief. — The Man- hattan Club. ...... 26T CHAPTER XXX. THE FIVE POINTS. The Notorious Locality. — Poverty, Misery and Vice. — Baxter Street Life and Morals. — The Swarm of Children. — Etchings from Nature. — Rep- resentative Races. — The Callings of the Place. — The Dance-Houses. — What One Sees There. ..... 271 12 Contents. CHAPTER XXXr. THE MORGUE. Its Growing Need in Gotham. — Its Appearance and Regulations. — Fascina- tion of the Horrible. — Scenes Within and Without. — Apoplexy, Murder, Homicide and Suicide.— The Humorous Side of Ghastliness. 280 CHAPTER XXXH ALEXANDER T. STEWART. The Man of Money and Embodiment of Business. — His Past History. — A Merchant by Accident. — His Erection of the First Marble Building in Broadway. — His Up-Town Store. — His Fifth-Avenue Palace. — His Reputation for Generosity. — His Immense Wealth. — His Private Life. ....... 289 CHAPTER XXXm. THE DAILY PRESS. The Herald, Tribune, Times, World, Journal of Commerce and Sun. — Defects of the Metropolitan Newspapers. — Their Circulation and Characteristics. — Their Antecedents and Profits. — The Evening Journ- als. — What They Are and Do. .... 295 CHAPTER XXXIV. THE WEEKLY PRESS. Their Great Number. — The Illustrated Papers. — Remarkable Success of the Ledger. — The Sunday Journals and their Character. — Journalism as a Profession in New York. — Slenderness of the Compensation. — Needs of the Calling. — Its Overcrowding. . . . 311 CHAPTER XXXV. WILLIAM B. ASTOR. An Exception to Most Rich Men's Sons. — His Great Care of his Father's Estate. — His Industry, Energy and Sagacity. — His Freedom from Pretension or Extravagance. — His Daily Duties and Domestic Life. — The Wealthiest Man in America. . . . . 319 CHAPTER XXXVI. THE CONCERT SALOONS. Their Rise and Sudden Popularity.— Various Grades of Music-Hails. — Danger of Frequenting Them.— The "Pretty Waiter Girls."— The Night Haunts. — The Vision of Dissipation. — Demoralizing Influence of Such Places. . . . . . . 326 Contents. 13 CHAPTER XXXVII. CORNELIUS VANDERBILT. The Beginning of his Fortunes. — The Staten Island Perriauger. — A Purely Self-Made Man. — His Control of Steam Lines.- — The Great Railway- King. — Passion for Whist and Horses — His Extraordinary Wall Street Operations. — His Vast Income. — His Remarkable Vigor in Old Age. 833 CHAPTER XXXVIII. BROADWAY. The Street Cosmopolitan and Cosmoramic. — Its Architecture and Constant Throng. — Poetry and Philosophy of the Thoroughfare. — Its Resources and Suggestiveness. — Romance and Reality. — Love and Friendship. — Changes of Fortune. — All the World Flowing through that Channel. 339 CHAPTER XXXIX. THE THIEVES. Crime and Criminals. — Scoundrels Actual and Ideal. — Burglars, Hotel- Robbers, Shop-Lifters, Pickpockets and Sneaks. — Their Number and Mode of Operating. — The Art of Stealing and Science of Being Undiscovered. ...... 346 CHAPTER XL. SUNDAY IN NEW YORK. The Change of the Week. — Silence of the Sabbath. — The Sacredness of Rest. — Different Modes of Enjoying the Day. — Excursions out of Town. — God in the Town and Country. . . . 355 CHAPTER XLI. THURLOW AVEED. The Cabin Boy Becomes a Political Warwick — His Extraordinary Tact and Insight. — His Long Control of New York Politics. — The Whig Triumviate. — The Commercial Advertiser. — His Adroit Management of an Obstinate Assemblyman. — His Income and Good-Heartedness. 365 CHAPTER XLII. BLEECKER STREET. Its Past and Present. — ^Its Variety and Oddity. — Its Strange Occupants. — Deception and Intrigue. — Dissipation and Death. — The Quarter of Artists and Bohemians. — Disturbance of Lodgers. — Great Freedom of the Neighborhood. ... 372 14 Contents. CHAPTER XLIIL NASSAU STREET. Its Uniqueness and Symbolism. — Curious People and Phenomena. — Love and Loans. — Lager and Literature. — Confusion of Humanity. — The Old Book Stores. — Rambles Up and Down Dusty Stairways. — Back- OflSce Secrets. — Prolific Material for Novels. . . 381 CHAPTER XLIV. THE HOTELS. Americans not Domestic. — The Astor, St. Nicholas, Metropolitan, Fifth Avenue, New York, Brevoort and Barcelona. — Second Class Houses, — Gossip, Flirtation and Intrigue. — Hotel Life in Various Phases. 390 CHAPTER XLV. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. Fame in the Metropolis. — His Poetry and Travels. — The Evening Post. — His Labors and Influence as a Journalist. — His Domestic Tastes. — A Hale and Hearty Patriarch. — A Congenial Companion and Clever Talker. ....... 399 CHAPTER XLVI. THE MARKETS. American Extravagance in Living — Disagreeableness of Market-Going. — Liberal Supplies of Everything. — The Different Customers. — The Penurious-Wealthy. — Blushing Brides and Cheap Boarding House Keepers- — The Scale of Prices. — The Evening Market. . 405 CHAPTER XLVIL THE POST OFFICE. The Old Dutch Church the Most Popular in Town. — Immense Business of the Metropolitan Office. — Anxious Inquirers and Insolent Clerks. — Letter-Writers and Letter-Getters. — The General Delivery. — The Dif- ferent Stations. — -Their Illegitimate Use. . . . 415 CHAPTER XLVIIL THE GAMINS. Their Antecedents and Training. — Their Favorite Callings and Pleasures. — Persevering Boot-Blacks and Energetic Newsboys. — The Bowery Theatre Resort. — Decline and Development of the Urchins. — Natural Results of Bad Education. ..... 424 Contents. 15 CHAPTER XLIX. THE DEMI-MONDE. The Relation of the Sexes. — Man's Injustice and Woman's Wrongs. — Courtesans in the Metropolis. — Their Character and Calling. — Their Life, Love and Redeeming Traits. — Sad Pictures of Fallen Women. 434 CHAPTER L. THE CLUBS. Their Number in Manhattan. — The Most Famous Club-Houses. — Their Management and Membership. — How Women Regard Them. — The Century, Manhattan, Union-League, Travelers', City, New York, and Eclectic. — The Deceased Athenaeum. — Journalistic Clubs. — Club Life in the Great City. ..... 442 CHAPTER LI. THE BEGGARS. Their Nationality. — The Throng Increasing. — The Four Great Classes. — The Notorious Mendicants.— A New Order. — The Broadway Blindman. — The Old Hag near Fulton Ferry. — The Armless Frenchman. — The Canal Street Humpback. — The Noseless Pole. — The Mackerelville Dwarf. — Fortunes of the Vagabond Tribe. . . . 456 CHAPTER LH. STREET RAILWAYS. Their Supposed Origin. — Their Supreme Independence. — New York Made for them. — Magnanimity of the Managers. — The Charmed Life of Passengers. — Wonders of the Roads. — Haps and Mishaps of Travel. — The Hero of a Thousand Cars. — Every -Day Miracles. . 466 CHAPTER LHI. THE PAWNBROKERS. What They Represent and What They Are. — Under the Shadow of the Three Balls. — Messrs. Abrahams and Moses in their Glory.^ — The Watch, the Diamond Bracelets, the Keepsake. — Strange History of Pledges. ....... 473 CHAPTER LIV. CHILDREN'S AID SOCIETY. The Boys and Girls' Lodging House. — How they are Managed and Sup- ported. — Receipts and Expenditures. — The Emigration and Restoring System. — Industrial Schools. Refuge for Homeless Childi-en. — Ad- vatange of the Charity. .... 483 16 Contents. CHAPTER LV. JAMES GORDON BENNETT. The Child, Boy and Man. — His Education for the Church. — Struggles in America. — Choice of Journalism for a Profession.- — -Frequent Failures. — Establishment of the Herald. — Its first Success. — Peculiarities of the Man. — His sole Ambition and its Realization. — His private Life, 491 CHAPTER LVL THE CHINESE EMBASSY IN NEW YORK. What One of the Number Thinks of the Metropolis. — His Experiences of American Life. — Puppies for Supper. — Peculiar Rats. — The City Directory as a Guide. — The Cause of Fires. — " Ghin Sling " in Various Trying Situations. . . . . . . 499 CHAPTER LVn. JENKINSISM IN THE METROPOLIS. The Peculiar Tribe. — Elaborate Description of a AVedding by one of the Fraternity. — The Bride and Bridegroom. — The Invited Guests. — Who they were, and how they Appeared. — Extraordinary Scenes at the Altar. — New Sensations at the Reception. . . 509 CHAPTER LVni. FASHIONABLE WEDDINGS. What they Mean, and How thej^ are Managed. — Ambitious Mammas and Submissive Daughters.— Mr. and Mrs. Fleetfa.st and their Connubial Career. — The Three Essentials. — Grace Church Brown. — Mockeries of Love. . . . . . . . 516 CHAPTER LIX. THE CITY MISSIONS. The Five-Points Mission. — The Howard Mission. — The House of Industry. — Their Regulations and Advantages. — Attendance, Donations and Expenses. — Intemperance the Cause of the Evils. . . 523 CHAPTER LX. THE T0.MB3. Origin of the Name. — The Inner Quadrangle. — The Tiers of Gloomy Cells. — Character of the Prisoners. — A House of Detention. — The Three Departments. — The Police Court and Court of Sessions. — Sunday Morning's Tribunal. — Notorious Criminals who Have been There. — The Gallows and its Victims. — Religious Exercises. 528 i Contents. 17 CHAPTER LXL THE MIDNIGHT MISSION. The First Movement for the Reclamation of Fallen Women. — The Desti- tution of the Charity in New York. — The Asylum in Amity St. — Plan of Procedure. — Success of the Enterprise. — The Receptions.— Touching Scenes. — Repentant and Reformed Courtesans. — "What the Charity Teaches. ....... 535 CHAPTER LXn. ASSOCIATIONS FOR THE POOR. Effectiveness of the Charity. — Its Origin and Progress. — How it is Con- ducted. — Visits to the Tenement-Houses. — What is Undertaken and Accomplished. — The Spirit of Humanity at Work. — Beautiful Ex- amples. ....... 542 CHAPTER LXin. WORKING WOMEN'S HOME. An Excellent Organization. — Mode of its Management. — Weeping Eyes Dried, and Wounded Hearts Healed. — Direction of the Institution.— Benefits Conferred upon the Poor. — Reaching the Source of Suf- fering. ....... 548 CHAPTER LXIV. THE MILITARY. Fondness for Parade. — The National State Guard. — The First Division. — ■ The Armories. — The Crack Regiments. — The Seventh. — Its Departure for the War. — The Great Sensation in Broadway. — Holiday Sol- diers. ....... 554 CHAPTER LXV. THE FIRE DEPARTMENT. The Old System and its Evils. — The Engine Houses in Times Past. — The Present Department. — The Steam Engines and Horses. — Their Advant- age and Efficacy. — The Dead Rabbit and Decent Fire-Boy. 561 CHAPTER LXVI. RACING AND FAST HORSES. The Union, Long Island and Fashion Courses. — The Jerome Park — Fond- ness for Horse Flesh. — The Passion Growing. — Gentlemen's Stables. — Millionaires on the Road. — VanderbiK, Bonner, Jerome and Fellows. — Money Invested in Blooded Stock. — Pleasures of the Turf. 568 f 18 Contents. CHAPTER LXVII. GIFT ENTERPRISES AND SWINDLES. The Many Swindles upon Countrymen. — Policy Shops. — Lottery Offices. — Infamous Devices. — The Rural Regions Flooded with Circulars. — Inability of the Law to Reach the Rogues. — How Mr. Greenhorn is Victimized. ....... 575 CHAPTER LXVIIL THE WICKEDEST AVOMAN IN THE CITY. Madame Restell the Abortionist. — Her Long and Shuddering Career. — Her Notorious Trial and Acquittal. — Her Dreadful Secrets and Practices. — Her Palace in Fifth Avenue. — Her Antecedents and Appearance. 582 CHAPTER LXIX. MATRIMONIAL BROKERAGE. The Brokers in the City, and their Manner of Operating. — Strange Revelations of Human Weakness. — Foolish Women and Hoary Sim- pletons. — Snares Laid for Feminine Innocence. . . 588 CHAPTER LXX. HERALDRY ON THE HUDSON. The Metropolitan Passion for Titles. — The Heraldry Office. — Manner of Conducting it. — Smithers in search of his Family. — Peculiar Mode of Making Genealogical Trees. — The Plebeian Magennises and the Nor- man Descent. Absurdity of Patrician Assumption. . 596 CHAPTER LXXL THE CHILD-ADOPTING SYSTEM. How it is Carried On. — The Women Professionally Engaged in It. — Singular Disclosures. — Infants of all Kinds Furnished. — The Baby Market and its Fluctuations. . . , . 603 CHAPTER LXXII. BANKERS AND WALL-STREET OPERATORS. ' Daniel Drew, Brown Brothers, Leonard W. Jerome, James G. King's Sons, Jay Cooke, David Groesbeck, August Belmont, and Fisk& Hatch, 611 CHAPTER LXXm. CHARLES O'CONOR. His Early Poverty and Industry. — His Inclination to the Law. — His Em- inence at the Bar. — His Singular Political Opinions. — His Large In- come and Forensic Capacity. — His Present Status. . 618 / Contents. 19 CHAPTER LXXIV. JAMES T. BRADY. His Legal Studies and Success. — His Enthusiasm for Ireland, and Popu- larity with the Irish. — His Deep Interest in his Clients. — His Perpetual Speech-Making. — His After-Dinner Ardor. . . 622 CHAPTER LXXV. > FERNANDO WOOD. His Past Life. — His First Election to the Mayoralty. — Double Disappoint- ment of the Committee. — His Conduct and Character. — Personal Ap- pearance and Influence. ..... 625 CHAPTER LXXVL GEORGE FRANCIS TRAIN. An Exaggerated American. — His Excentricities at Home and Abroad. — Book-making, Speech-making, and Money-making. — His Declaration that he is in no Danger. — Called a Fool. — His Supreme Egotism and [ Loquacity. — His Real Character. . . . . 629 CHAPTER LXXVIL FANNY FERN. Parentage.-Girlhood.-Marriage. -Husband's Death.-Struggle with Pover- ty. — First Literary Earnings. — Connection with the Ledger. — " Fern Leaves" and "Ruth Hall."^ — Second Marriage. — Present Position. 633 CHAPTER LXXVIII. TWO STRONG-MINDED WOMEN. Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. — The Revolution. — What the Woman's Rights Women Are and Demand. — Their Pen-Photo- graphs. ....... 636 CHAPTER LXXIX. PETER COOPER. History of a Self-Made Man.— His various Pursuits.— His Benevolence and Sympathy with the People.— The Cooper Institute.— His Honesty and Sterling Worth. ...... 640 CHAPTER LXXX. GEORGE LAW. Bis Early Struggles.— Contracts the Beginning of his Fortune.— The George Law Markets.— His Personal Unpopularity and Common-Place Appearance. — His Day Gone By. ... 642 20 Contents. CHAPTER LXXXL PETER B. SWEENEY. His Political Power and Excessive Tact. — The Championship of the Ring, — His Large Wealth and Devotion to the Democracy. — The Manner of Man he is. . . , , . . . 645 CHAPTER LXXXII. DISTINGUISED CLERGYMEN. Revs. Edwin H. Chapin, Henry C. Potter, Wm. Adams, Henry W. Bellows, Stephen H. Tyng, junior, Morgan Dix, F. C. Ewer, C. W. Morrill, Thomas Armitage, 0. B. Frothingham, Archbishop McCloskey. — Samuel Osgood. — H. B. Ridgaway. — Rabbi Adler. . 647 CHAPTER LXXXm. JOHN ALLEN, " THE WICKEDEST MAN." The Religious Excitement. — John Allen's Dance-House. — The Prayer Meetings in Water- Street. — Their Good Effect. — The Insincerity of Ruffians no Reason for Censure. .... 659 CHAPTER LXXXIV. MARK M. POMEROY. His Nativity and Wanderings. — His Career in the West. — La Cross Demo- crat. — His Establishment of a Daily in New York. — His Violent Politi- cal Course. — What he is and How he Looks. . . 663 CHAPTER LXXXV. EMINENT BUSINESS MEN. Grinnell, Minturn & Co., Horace B. Claflin, Howland, Aspinwall & Co., A. A. Law & Bros., E. S. Jaffray & Co., Harper & Bros., D. Appleton & Co., Jackson S. Schultz, Charles A. Stetson, the Lelands, R. L. & A. Stuart. ....... 666 CHAPTER LXXXVI. YOUNG MEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION. Its Origin and Conductors. — Excellence and Influence of the Society. — What its Members have Accomplished. — Their Work During the War. — Their Hospitality to Strangers. — Result of their Labors. 677 CHAPTER LXXXVII. PUBLIC SCHOOLS. The Day and Evening Schools. — Girls' Normal Schools. — Evening High School. — Free Academy — Attendance and Aptitude of Pupils. — The System of Instruction hxid its Success. — Women Superseding Men as Teachers. ....... 680 Contents. 21 CHAPTER LXXXVIII. DISTINGUISHED WOMEN. Alice and Phoebe Gary. — Mary Clemmer Ames. — Kate Field. — Lucia Gil- bert Calhoun. — Octavia Walton Levert. — Jennie June. — Mary E. Dodge. — Sarah F. Ames. ..... 684 CHAPTER LXXXIX. CITY CHARITIES. Divers Institutions.— Ward's Island. — Hospitals. — Orphan, Deaf and Dumb and Insane Asylums. — The Buildings and Inmates. — Mode of Treating Patients. — Liberality and Benevolence of New Yorkers. 690 CHAPTER XC. THE GREAT METROPOLIS. Its Advantages and Disadvantages. — Improvements Everywhere. — Up- Town Splendors. — The Future of Manhattan. — The City Destined to be the Largest in the World. .... 697 CHAPTER I . RICH AND POOR. In tlie M-^tropolis, more than in any other American city, there are two great and distinct classes of people — ■ those who pass their days in trying to make money enough to live; and those who, having more than enough, are troubled about the manner of spending it. The former suffer from actual ills ; the latter from imaginary ones. Those lead a hard life ; these an empty one. Those suffer from penury ; these from ennui. Each envies the other; and both find exist- ence wearisome, and difficult to endure. But the poor have the advantage in necessary honesty and earnest- ness; while the prosperous dwell in an atmosphere of insincerity and sham. It is the custom to prate of the discontents of the rich. Yet we are all ambitious to share them, and to learn by experience the weight of purple robes and the sharpness of gilded thorns. Our citizens who figure in the income list have no season of repose. When not engrossed in their busi- ness pursuits, (it is the misfortune of this Republic that few of its inhabitants ever learn to enjoy their wealth calmly until it is too late,) they are either planning campaigns at the watering-places and tours in Europe, or perplexing themselves with the most approved and 24 Rich and Poor. distinguished manner of entertaining their fashionable friends in town. They endeavor to leave such complicated affairs to women. But the women seek counsel of, and ever lean on, their masculine companions, and compel them, whether they will or not, to bear the burthen of leading a glittering, though hollow life, which rarely palls upon the feminine mind, occupied with externals, and reveling in appearances. So the Adams, even to the present day, pay the penalty of the temptation of Eve, and eat more sour apples than they do sweet ones, in the society of their irresistible charmers. New-York is unquestionably the paradise of women. It is to the United- States what Paris is to Europe ; and the fairer portion of creation, who dwell out of this vast and crowded City, remember their promenade in Broadway, their suppers at Delmonico's, their eve- nings at the Academy, and their drives in the Park, with a longing for their repetition that is almost akin to pain. No where else, they fondly imagine, are such dresses, and bonnets, and shawls, and jewelry to be purchased; no where else can they be so generally admired; no where else can pleasure be found in such varied form. Even Greenwood has its mortuary fascinations. The monuments look whiter there, the grass greener, the graves more genteel, the trees more droopingly sym- pathetic than in other cemeteries. And then the sub- terranean sleepers must have pleasant dreams of the excitements and sensations they enjoyed in the flesh on the island of Manhattan. When they die, they hope, in a sentimentally pious way, to take their last CHrXESE CAXDY DEALER. Rich and Poor. 25 rest in such goodly company, and have winter roses strewn above them, that grew in hot-houses, and were chpped with silver shears. Fifth, Madison and Lexington avennes. Fourteenth, Twenty-third and Thirty-fourth streets, Madison, Stuy- vesant and Grammercy squares are among the chosen abodes of the fashionable and wealthy, who ever tend up town, and will soon make the Central Park the nu- cleus of their exclusive homes. During the season, Saratoga, Newport, Paris and Florence are, for the time, dismissed, and home pleas- ures are alone considered. Receptions, sociables and "Germans" are the social events of those modish quarters; and milliners, man- tua-makers, hair-dressers, flower-venders, confectioners, and musicians, are busy from morning to night in lend- ing their expensive assistance to the devotees of fash- ion in the arduous art of killing time elegantly. Weddings, and their subsequent assemblies are at their height then. Hymen consorts with Cytherea, Juno and Bacchus, and supplies his torch with love- letters of the past, and capers nimbly upon hearts whence Mammon has expelled romance and the ideals of other days. All New- York is in the midst of gayety and dissipa- tion, and judging by surfaces, Eden is not far from the banks of the Hudson. Brilliant carriages, with liveried coachmen and footmen and sleek horses, dash up and down the avenues, depositing their perfumed inmates before brilliantly-lighted, high-stooped, brown-stone fronts, whence the sound of merry voices and voluptu- ous music comes wooingly out, through frequently- opened doors, into the chilly night / 26 The Great Metropolis. One catches a glimpse of fair faces, and the odor of elaborate toilettes as pretty women hurry up the broad steps with kindling eyes and rosy lips, and disappear like beautiful visions amid the bewildering delights that are more seductive to, because they can only be conjectured by, the less fortunate wayfarers who are trudging to their humble homes, anxious and fatigued, and uncertain of the morrow. Oh, the inequality of Fortune ! It must be hard for the poor and distressed to believe that God is good, and Life a blessing, when they see every hour that thousands, in no way worthier, lie softly and fare daintily, while they go hungry and cold, and have no expectations of the better times that are always coming and never come. Life at its best is seen in this splendid mansion, where all is warmth, and color, and richness, and per- fume. The gilded drawing-rooms are crowded with a confusion of silks, and velvets, and laces, and broad- cloth, and flowers, and jewels; and from the seeming- happy crowd arises a pleasant humof low-toned voices, as if passion would never lift them, or pain make them discordant, from the cradle to the grave. One meets there no shadows, no frowns, no haunt- ing cares. All individuality is lost. Everything is toned down to a level of conventional similarity. All are maskers; and the maskers deceive themselves, as well as others, respecting their true character, and go through life, as through the revel, dully and dream- ily, — ^believing they are happy because they are not sad, and that they are useful members of society be- cause they attend church, and envy their neighbors, " and pay their taxes punctually. Rich and Poor. 27 Probably there are hearts in the crowd distrustful if that be joy; but the wine is offered, and the music swells, and beauty beckons, and they float down the stream of pleasure, careless where it glides, and of the dark and fatal eddies that whirl below. The influ- ence of the hour is to drown thought and stifle feeling ; and he who can accomplish that will not suffer. Dancing, and feasting, and flirting, and gossip bind the hours with fragrant chaplets, and the duties and purposes of life sink into a soft oblivion ; while that is remembered only which is pleasant to bear in mind; and yields fruitage for self-love. The night reels, like a drunken Bacchant, away; and the stars grow pale as the revelers depart with bounding blood and dazed senses to the embroidered chambers that hold sweet sleep in silken chains. Life at its worst is visible not a hundred rods away. Yet to enter that wretched tenement-house, where the air is close and impure, who would suppose he was in the same city in which so much splendor and gayety are revealed? A family in every room here, and sickness, and de- bauch, and poverty, and pain on every floor. Groans, and curses, and riotous laughter, and reckless boister- ousness echo through those dingy halls, and steal up and down those greasy stairways, every desolate hour of the unwholesome day. Poison is in the atmosphere, and new-born babes breathe it before they suck their sickly mothers' sickly milk. Half a million of souls live in these pest-places. Vice, and crime, and death are their product, year after year ; and, amid constant vaporings about Reform, Christianity, Progress and 28 The Great Metropolis. Enlightenment, the yield is steady and the dark har- vest growing. Have any of those bright eyes that swim in self- satisfaction at the brilliant receptions looked within these dreary walls? Do the kind hearts that must throb warmly and sympathetically beneath the flowing robe and embroidered vest, hold knowledge of these silent tragedies that the poor of this Great City are actors in? The prosperous are not unfeeling; but they do not know what incalculable good they might do if they would rightly set themselves to work to re- lieve the wretched of their race. They have their round of pleasures, and they are full. They little think what responsibilities their wealth has placed upon them ; what gods mere vulgar money might make them in potentiality of blessing. Clouds and sunshine, corpse lights and bridal lamps, joy-anthems and funeral-dirges, contrast and mingle in New- York! Every ripple of light-hearted laughter is lost in its faintest echoes in a wail of distress. Every happy smile is reflected from a dark background of despair. The Metropolis is a symbol, an intensification of the country. Broadway represents the national life, — the energy, the anxiety, the bustle, and the life of the re- public at large. Take your stand there, and Maine, and Louisiana, the Carolinas, and California, Boston, and Chicago, pass before you. So the Bowery, and Wall street, and Fifth avenue, with their different figures and types, — each manifest- ing many, and many one. Beggars and millionaires, shoulder-hitters and thinkers, burglars and scholars, Rich and Poor. 29 fine women and fortune-tellers, journalists and pawn- brokers, gamblers and mechanics, here, as everywhere else, crowd and jostle each other, and all hold and fill their places in some mysterious way. Out of the motley million, each, however blindly, tries to better his condition; seeks his happiness, as he conceives it; and arrives at ruin or prosperity, ignorance or culture, health or disease, long life or early death. Sympathy is the weight that drags us down in our struggle with the devouring sea. Cast it off, and we swim freely. Selfishness is the friendly plank we grasp for safety. Holding it, we may reach the land, and then return with charity to help our shipwrecked fellows, and preserve them from the dangers from which we have escaped. Alas, that those who reach the shore so rarely ven- ture to sea again ! Tears and woe will come. Let us not go far to meet them. Take care of to-day, and the morrow will provide for itself Expect the best, and the worst will be less likely to happen. Believe yourself fortunate, and you have already robbed Fate of half its power to harm. What we mainly suffer from is the things that never occur ; for the shadows of anticipation are more formidable than the substance of the actual. The carriage is at the door, my friend. Shut up the shadow-book, and step into the light of the outer world. We will ride along rapidly while we can, and walk when we cannot ride ; for we will go into the I 30 The Great Metropolis. under-ground haunts, as well as the upper abodes of amusement and pleasure. Through and into New York we will look with calm, yea, philosophic — eye ; see its open and hidden mys- teries at every angle ; observe the places we enter, and analyze the people we encounter. Regard all men and women as brothers and sisters, never to be hated, but only to be pitied in that they are less fortunate than we. Become great and uni- versal democrats ; and think nothing mean that is hu- man; nothing wholly ill; no sin so enormous that sympathy may not reach and charity cover it truly and tenderly. Leave Nergea to admire her beautiful eyes in the mirror ; for it will be more flattering to her than her fondest lover. If she weep, she will soon dry her eyes ; for tears she is aware dim their lustre. She is fair, and shapely, and elegant; but is no better in spirit and at heart, than the rude and homely Janette, who was born out of parallel with Nature. Janette went astray, since the path that lay before her was hard and crooked, as are so many ways of this World that we knownot whether to love or hate it, but which, after all, is the best we have seen. CHAPTER n. SOCIETY IN THE METROPOLIS. New- York is quite as mucli the fashionable, as it is the commercial metropolis ; for here are the age, the "wealth, the caste-feeling and the social lines of demark- ation that so largely aid in forming and sustaining what is known as Society. In the Uuited States gene- rally the duties we owe to society sit rather loosely upon "free-born Americans." But in New York they are such obligations as we feel called upon conscien- tiously to discharge, and do discharge upon pain of modish ostracism. Fashion upon Manhattan Island will admit of no compromise with Reason, and refuses to listen to the voice of Common-Sense. She demands her fullest rights, and her devotees yield them with a zeal that savors of social superstition. Fully half a million of our population are absorbed in a perpetual struggle to avoid physical suffering ; while a hundred thousand, probably pass their lives either in being, or trying to be fashionable. That hundred thousand are very gay. and seem positively happy. Yet their woes and throes are innumerable ; and their struggles with conventionality and gentility, though less severe, are as numerous as those of the half million with penury and want. 32 The Great Metropolis. What our best society is will never be determined to the satisfaction of more than one of the cliques, or coteries, or sets that assume to represent it. Each and all of them claim they are it par excellence • and each and all go on in their own specific way, saturated with the conviction that they are the conservers and pre- servers of the finenesses, and courtesies, and elegan- cies of the fashionable elect. No society in the world has more divisions and sub- divisions than ours — more ramifications and inter-rami- fications, — more circles within circles — more segments and parts of segments. They begin in assumption and end in absurdity. They are as fanciful as mathe- matical lines ; and yet so strong that they can hardly be broken, and can rarely be crossed. The grand divisions may be stated, though the sub- divisions may not ; for they depend on religious creeds, on community of avocation, on contiguity of resi- dence, and a hundred nameless things. The grand divisions, like all that appertains to society, are purely conventional, wholly without foundation in reason or propriety. They depend upon what is called family, — on profession, wealth and culture, — the last con- sidered least, because it alone is of importance, and deserving of distinction. Family, inasmuch as few persons in this country know who were their great grandfathers, puts forth the strongest claim and makes the loftiest pretension. The old Knickerbockers, as they style themselves, insist upon it that they should have the first place in society ; and, as most of them inherited real estate from their ancestors, that they were too conservative to sell, and too parsimonious to mortgage, they can CHAPTER XXXII. ALEXANDER T. STEWART. More than any one else in America probably Alex- ander T. Stewart is the embodiment of business. He is emphatically a man of money — thinks money ; makes money; lives money. Money is the aim and end of his existence, and now, at sixty-five, he seems as anx- ious to increase his immense wealth as he was when he sought his fortune in this country, forty years ago. Riches with him, no doubt, have become ambition, which is to be the wealthiest man in the United-States. For ten or twelve years William B. Astor has been his only rival, and it is now uncertain which of the two is the greater capitalist. Astor owns more real estate ; but Stewart has the larger income. Stewart has never been communicative about his early life, and those curious in respect to it are gen- erally rebuffed in their inquiries. It is known that he is a native of Ireland, having been born near Belfast, though he claims to be descended from a Scotch fami- ly. He is of Scotch-Irish extraction, with the deter- mination, perseverance and energy that marks such stock, and must of necessity have sprung from the heroic defenders of Londonderry, as all the Scotch- Irish, risen to any eminence, have done before and since his time. 19 290 The Great Metropolis. In his eighth year Stewart lost his parents, and was reared by his maternal grandfather, who intended to educate him for the Methodist Church, of which he himself was a devout member. The boy is reported to have shown very early a resolution to be first in whatever he undertook, and to have been foremost in his class at Trinity College, Dublin, where, like every true son of Erin, he graduated with honor. He was then in his eighteenth year, and his grandfather being dead he was placed under the guardianship of a Qua- ker. Not liking Ireland he concluded to seek his for- tune in the New World, and came here in 1823 with letters of recommendation to some of the best families of Friends in the City. He was a teacher at first, and persons now living remember when they sat under his instruction. He either did not succeed in his calling, or did not relish it; for after ten or twelve months of teaching he entered a mercantile establishment, though without any natural bias for trade, his friends say — a statement to be received with liberal allowance. He had an in- terest of some kind in the house, and accident, it is said, made him a merchant; for his partner died suddenly and left the entire responsibility of the busi- ness upon the young man of two-and-twenty. He then determined to devote himself to trade, and returning to Ireland sold the little property he had there ; bought a lot of laces with the money, and came back to New- York. His store was a very small, dismal one in Broadway, opposite the City Hall Park — it is torn down now — but by close application, skill and taste in buying, and by fair dealing with his customers, he soon secured a very « Alexander T. Stewart. 291 good trade. His judgment of goods was excellent, particularly of fine laces, and lie made a practice of buying at auction and retailing to much advantage. He soon gained the patronage of a number of wealthy and fashionable families, and so established a prestige that he has never lost. His terms were reasonable ; his word could always be depended on, and four or five years after setting up for himself he was on the high road to independence. His small store had by this time become inadequate to the accommodation of his numerous customers, and he accordingly purchased the lot in Broadway between K-eade and Chambers, then occupied by the old Wash- ington Hall, at about one-fifth of what it is now worth. He erected upon the site his present store, the first marble building in the great thoroughfare. Stewart's "marble palace," as it was long called, was the admi- ration of the town and wonder of the country, and so distinctive that the proprietor has never put up a sign. In the new store Stewart secured a large wholesale trade, and soon grew to be one of the heaviest impor- ters and jobbers in the City. For the past fifteen years he has done the largest business in this or prob- ably in any other country, and it is still increasing monthly. His other up-town establishment, corner of Tenth street and Broadway, is his retail store. He built it seven or eight years ago, and has just extended it to embrace almost the whole square. It is two hundred feet front on Broadway and Fourth avenue, and three hundred and twenty-five on Tenth street, includes 292 The Great Metropolis. nearly two acres, and the structure, six stories in height, is the largest dry goods store in the World. The third architectural achievement of Stewart is his private residence, or what is designed to be such, in Fifth avenue, corner of Thirty-fourth street. It is a huge white marble pile ; has been four or five years in process of erection, and has already cost $2,000,000. It is very elaborate and pretentious, but exceedingly dismal, reminding one of a vast tomb. Stewart's finan- cial ability is extraordinary, but his architectural taste cannot be commended. Numerous stories are told of th6 merchant prince, some to his credit, and more to his discredit ; but it is doubtful if any of them are quite true. He is said to be very generous on one hand, and extremely mean on the other. He has often given munificently to pub- lic charities, but of his private contributions little is heard ; whether because they are not made, or because he does good by stealth, I shall not undertake to say. During the famine in Ireland he purchased a ship, loaded it with provisions and sent them there. On the. return voyage he filled it with young men and women, and obtained situations for them before they had reached this shore. During the War he gave at one time to the Sanitary Commission a check for $100,000, which was obtained in this way : Some one having asked him to contribute, he said he would give as much as Yanderbilt. Vander- bilt, on being approached, agreed to give as much as Stewart. Stewart then sent the applicant back to Yanderbilt, who, in a fit of annoyance, drew on his banker for $100,000. Stewart kept his word, and the Commission was $200,000 richer by the operation. PRIXITXG HOUSE SQUARE. Alexander T. Stewart. 293 Respecting his wealth, it is difficult to estimate it. It is set down at $30,000,000, and even as high as $60,000,000. His income varies greatly. It has been less than $1,000,000 and as much as $4,000,000 a year; the amount depending upon the activity of trade and the fluctuations of the market. Every once in a while it is reported in the country that Stewart has failed ; but in the City his failure is known to be impossible, as he has always made it a rule to buy for cash. He has the reputation of being strictly truthful. He has but one price, and all his goods are what he repre- sents them to be ; and to those two things he is under- stood to attribute his success. He has three partners, William Libby here, Francis Warden in Paris, and G. Fox in Manchester, England, and foreign depots in Manchester, Belfast, Glasgow, Paris, Berlin and Lyons. He supervises and conducts his whole business, and works eight or ten hours a day, not unfrequently toil- ing over his private ledger on Sunday. He is a mem- ber of the Episcopalian Church — St. Mark's, corner of Tenth street and Second avenue — and regular in his attendance. He is a slave to business, rarely allowing himself any recreation. His happiness is in his ac- counts and profits, and to be the great merchant of New-York is his comfort and his pride. He lives in a plain house in the Avenue opposite his unfinished mar- ble mausoleum; sees little company; has a wife, but no children, and must on the whole have a cheerless old age. Stewart is a commonplace man in appearance, of medium height, slight in figure, thin-visaged, sharp features, sandy-grayish hair and whiskers; enjoys good health, and on close inspection has a shrewd, searching 294 The Great Metropolis. look which reveals his true character. He is well preserved and very vigorous for his age. He makes calculations for twenty years more of life, and clings to his immense fortune as if he should draw compound interest on it after death. Without children, with no future beyond the few years that yet remain, all his existence is an unbroken round of anxious toil, not many who may covet his wealth would, if they knew them, envy his surroundings. 1 CHAPTER XXXIII. THE DAILY PRESS. Great newspaper establishments are interesting to everybody but the persons connected with them. The New- York offices, from their central and com- manding position, have long been subjects of gossip and objects of curiosity. Out-of-town people who make visits to the large establishments in Printing House Square ; penetrating the mysteries of the press, composing and editorial rooms, and, possibly, catching a glimpse of Greeley, Bennett, Raymond or Bryant, think themselves fortunate, and speak of the fact, for years after, as a memorable event. Though all Americans read newspapers, not many have any clear notion how they are made. They have no idea of the amount of labor and capital required for the publication of a leading daily in the Metropo- lis. Indeed, its interior management and economy is a sealed book to them, which they are very glad to open whenever opportunity offers. The expense of a great morning daily here is much larger than is usually supposed. The Herald has been the most liberal in the getting of news, though of late it has grown more economical, regarding some of its 296 The Great Metropolis. past expenditure as wasteful and superfluous. Still, whenever important intelligence is to be had, the Herald is more willing than any other journal in the country to pay for it. Its daily expenses have been estimated at $20,000 a week, sometimes more, some- times less; and that is not far from the cost of the other quarto morning papers. The Tribune spent $969,000 year before last, and cleared only $11,000. It would be a fair estimate to reckon the cost of pub- lishing one of these journals at $800,000 to $1,000,- 000 per annum. The force employed upon one of the quartos is from four to five hundred persons, including clerks, com- positors, pressmen, feeders^ newsmen, proof-readers, reporters and editors. Each paper has an editor-in-chief, who dictates the course and policy of the paper, and who decides all questions having reference to its editorial conduct. The next to him in rank is the managing editor, who, in the absence of the chief, is supreme, and who attends to all the details, the engagement and dis- missal of sub-editors and correspondents, with power to regulate salaries, and determine character of ser- vice. He is responsible to the chief, and his subor- dinates are responsible to him. The night editor is a very important person. His position is arduous and responsible, as he has charge of the making-up of the paper, determining what matter shall go in and what stay out. He remains at his post until the journal is ready to go to press, be- tween 2 and 3 o'clock in the morning, generally, though he sometimes stays till daylight. He goes upon duty at 7 in the evening, so that his hours of labor are commonly seven or eight. PATIK BAXK, BROADWAY. The Daily Press. 297 The foreign editor deals with the foreign news and correspondence ; writes editorials upon European pol- itics, and is authority upon all matters belonging to his department. He is usually a foreigner himself, and conversant with several languages. The financial editor is usually independent in his place, being, in most cases, a stockholder, or having some proprietary interest in the concern. This posi- tion is the most sought after of any on a paper, and is consequently filled by a man who can command in- fluence ; who has means, and is well known in banking circles. Financial editors generally name their suc- cessors before death or resignation — either of which events is improbable — and believe the place too good to be permitted to go out of the family. They write the daily money articles, and have facilities for pecu- niary success that no other journalist in the office has. Nearly all of them make money, the amount of their salary being of secondary importance. Most of them grow rich through certain interests they are allowed to cultivate in Wall street. I recall the financial editor of a leading daily, who retired after a few years of service, with $250,000, all made by his position, and another, not long dead, who left a fortune of $300,000. To be a money -writer is considered to be on the direct road to wealth ; and the road is seldom missed. The city editor controls the city news. All the re- porters are under him. He directs their movements, making out every day, in a large book, the places for them to go, and the amount of matter they are ex- pected to furnish. The managing editor holds him responsible for the city department, and he sees that the reporters discharge their duty on pain of dis- missal. 298 The Great Metropolis. The principal dailies have day editors, who have charge of the office during the day ; see visitors in the absence of the manager ; receive or decline communi- cations, and direct the affairs of the office from 9 or 10 o'clock in the morning, to 5 or 6 in the afternoon. The literary editor or reviewer writes the literary criticisms ; receives all the new books that are sent to the office, and notices them according to their merit or demerit. He is an autocrat in his department, and is a man of many and varied acquirements, and correct and scholarly tastes. George Ripley, of the Tribune stands at the head of the reviewers of the City and country, by seniority, culture and experience. The art, dramatic and musical critics are indispensa- ble to a newspaper. Their title implies their office. They are supposed to understand thoroughly what they write of, and to be in every way competent, though between them and the persons criticised, there is usually a remarkable difference of opinion. Some of them are very accomplished gentlemen, and others much less able than they would like to have it sup- posed. Then there are translators, of course, who speak and write French, German, Italian and Spanish. One translator I know, is master of twenty different tongues, and speaks correctly every language but his own. Each large daily has from twelve to thirty reporters. Some of them report law cases, police matters and fires exclusively ; while others devote themselves to Brooklyn, Jersey-City, Hoboken, Weehaw^ken, and other adjacent towns. The city editor has a number of general reporters, some of them stenographers, who are assigned by him to duty. Their labors vary from The Daily Press. 299 two to eight hours a day. At times they have very light work, and again they toil like beavers. When occasion demands, extra reporters, who are always numerous, are employed, and are paid for their special work. The editor-in-chief of the Tribune is, as every one knows, Horace Greeley ; and the managing editor — he has been less than two years in the position — is John Russell Young, formerly of Philadelphia. The editor-in-chief of the Herald is, of course, James Gor- don Bennett, and the managing editor, James Gordon Bennett, jr., when he is in the office ; several of the other editors supplying his place if absent. Of the Times^ Henry J. Raymond is chief, and Stillman S. Conant manager ; of the Worlds Manton Marble chief, and David G. Croley manager; of the Sun.^ Charles A. Dana chief, and Isaac W. England manager ; of the Journal of Commerce^ David M. Stone chief, and J. W. Bouton manager ; of the Evening Post., William Cullen Bryant chief, and Augustus Maverick manager ; of the Commercial Advertiser., Thurlow Weed chief, and Chester P. Dewey manager ; of the Evening Ex- press^ James Brooks chief, and Erastus Brooks mana- ger. Those are all the old papers ; and of the new ones,. Evening Telegram., Evening Mail., Evening Netus^ Even- ing Commonwealth., Democrat and Star^ the chief and managing editor is generally the same person. They are small papers, and their departments less numerous and complete than those of the long-established jour- nals. The press-room of the morning dailies is a great curiosity to many persons. They like to see the huge 300 The Great Metropolis, ten-cylinder Hoe press throwing off sheets at the rate of 16,000 an hour, but printing them on only one side at a time. The Hoe press, it was supposed, was the highest reach of mechanical skill ; but recently a new press, the Bullock, has been invented, and threatens to displace its rival. The Bullock is very small and com- pact ; prints on both sides ; requires but one feeder, ;and saves much expense. The paper is put in in one long roll, and the wonderful machine cuts the sheet of the right size, and throws it out a perfectly printed journal. The Bullock works quite as rapidly as the Hoe, and is said to spoil fewer papers. It has so many ;advantages over Hoe's, that it ere long promises to itake its place in most newspaper establishments in this vcountry and Europe. Ten or itwelve years ago, the New- York papers be- gan to stereotype their forms, thereby saving the wear of the type, and in other ways, fully 20 per cent, upon the old plan. Each .office has a stereotyping room, and the process is as follows. The forms are made up on curved plates. When the type is all set, a pulpy preparation of paper is pressed upon them, and it is of such consistency as to keep the mold of the type exactly. Into this mold liquid type metal is poured (it does not burn the paper because of its moisture) ; and a solid plate formed as if the original type were all welded togetlier. This plate is put upon the press, and the impressions of the journal made. The forms of the Tribune, Herald^ Times, and recently the World, are all stereotyped. The metropolitan journals, considering the natural and acquired advantages they enjoy, are not all they ought to be. And yet, they are as a class, superior to WASHINGTON MARKET. The Daily Press. 301 tliose of any city in Europe. In fact, outside of Lon don, and the Times^ they have no rivals there; for the Paris, Berlin and other Continental journals, though able in some particulars, amount to little as a journal- istic whole. The London Times has obtained a power and influ- ence in Europe that no one journal could obtain in the United States. It stands almost entirely alone ; and its opinions and predictions are looked to with an in- terest, and carry a weight, which we Americans, ac- customed to think for ourselves, can hardly understand. Its editorials from first to last, are the strongest, clear- est, and best written on either side of the Atlantic. Those in New-York are often as good, sometimes su- perior ; but, on an average, fall below the standard of the "Thunderer." The leaders of the Times^ with its correspondence and parliamentary reports, make up its excellence. With all its ability, it is heavy and unenterprising and would not be successful in this country, where we de- mand more variety and lightness, more humor and much more news. A defect of the metropolitan dailies is, that they too closely imitate the English papers in excess of foreign news and overfulness of reports — giving matters really of little general interest, to the exclusion of what is more important. Americans naturally care far less about European affairs than the Europeans themselves ; but our daily journals do not seem yet to have dis- covered the fact. The result is that we have long letters from abroad, often with little mention of the condition of things in our home cities and territories. Condensation is not one of the journalistic virtues 302 The Great Metropolis. of New-York, especially in telegrams, whicli every day fill several columns, when all they contain might better be expressed in one-fourth of the space. The use of the telegraph originally was to transmit i news of importance ; but of late it seems to be to give unimportant news significance. That is sent over the wires which, but for such sending, would not be printed at all. It is very common for our night editors to omit an item of city news to give space to something much less interesting that has been received by telegraph. They appear to think it of no consequence that a New-Yorker has broken his neck, but of the greatest that a laborer on a Western railway or a freedman in Texas has been killed by a locomotive or a ruffian When our dailies comprehend that what Americans are most interested in is America, we shall be, jour- nalistically, mach better off. Newspapers seem to imagine themselves as much privileged to misrepresent their circulation as fops their follies or cowards their courage. Hence it is very difficult, if not impossible, to give the exact circulation of any daily ; though, inasmuch as I have made dili- gent inquiry, and have what should be trust worthy sources of information, the figures I give in round num- bers ought to be nearly correct. The circulation of the best known morning and evening papers I esti- mate as follows : Herald 70,000 Evening Post . . 9,000 Sun 50,000 Evening Express . 7,00C Tribune . 40,000 Evening Mail 6,000 Times » 35,000 Commercial Adv. 3,500 World . 25,000 Journal of Commerce o 2,500 The Daily Press. 303 Of the new papers I have no means of judging. The Star (morning), Democrat (morning and evening), and the Telegram and Neivs (evening), claim to count their circulation by tens of thousands ; while the fig- ures of the Commonwealth^ also evening, I have not heard stated. The circulation of the dailies has greatly decreased since the close of the War. The leading quartos ran up on some days of the Rebellion, when accounts of bat- tles were received, to over a hundred thousand, the sales even reaching one hundred and fifty thousand in twenty-four hours. During the present year, the circulation of the Tri- hune. Sun and World has gone up more rapidly than that of their cotemporaries. The Herald, increases steadily, with occasional fluctuations. The Herald much as it is condemned and abused is, on the whole, the most enterprising and best managed newspaper in the City. James Gordon Bennett un- questionably understands the philosophy of journalism and the secret of popularity. Without any particular convictions or fixedness of principle himself, he gives no one else credit for them ; and therefore thinks the best thing is to render his paper acceptable to the largest class of people possible. That he does without regard to consistency for which he has no respect ; and thus freed from the or- dinary restraints that develop, but often hinder mortals, it is not strange he has achieved great material success. Something over thirty-three years ago Bennett, in a dingy, subterranean office in Ann street, issued the first number of the Herald, a small, inferior-looking sheet, doing all the editorial work with his own hand ; * 304 The Great Metropolis. and to-day he has the most wealthy daily in the United States. The great fire in December, 1835, was fully and graphically reported in the Herald^ the first time such a thing had ever been done or even attempted, in the country ; and the remarkable enterprise of the journal on that occasion brought it into general notice, and gave it a reputation for news that it has never lost. Bennett says he publishes the Herald to make money (he might have added for his own glorification), not for the benefit of philosophers, which is a hit at the Tribune. Privately he does not assume to control or mold public opinion, but to follow it ; and he generally manages to be about twenty-four hours behind it, that he may publicly declare he has anticipated and created it. The Herald is consistent only in its inconsistency, and its determi- nation to be on the strong or popular side of every question. miscalculation or misunderstanding, it sometimes gets on the unpopular side ; but, the moment it discovers its mistake, it leaps to the other with no- ticeable alacrity. Bennett understands that a daily newspaper is em- phatically a thing of to-day, and that the mass of people care very little for what it has said yesterday, or may say to-morrow. Consequently, he issues every num- ber as if there never had been, and never would be another, and so prospers. Its rivals declare the suc- cess of the Herald a libel upon the general intelligence. Perhaps it is ; but its success, great and growing, is an undeniable fact, from which any one may draw his own inferences. The Herald makes a fenture of sensation of some part The Beggars. 465 The fortunes of mendicants are usually tlie creations of journalists and letter-writers. Few beggars die with any considerable sums of money, for they either squan- der it, even after long hoarding, or it is stolen by their own class. They adhere, most of them, with a strange perseverance and perversity, to their calling. Beg- ging must have a species of infatuation, like burgla- ry, war, the stage, and journalism. The New- York mendicants usually live in noisome cellars and gar- rets, in the Fourth, Sixth and Eighteenth wards ; live in a wretched manner, that Crabbe would have delighted to describe ; live away from sunlight and pure air; live worse than the swine until all the sweetness of nature is crowded out of their ill-condi- tioned souls, and they find the only peace possible to them in the grave, most charitable of all alms-givers to the wretched and forsaken. MACKEREL VILLE TURN-OUT. 30 . CHAPTER LII. STREET-RAILWAYS. New- York is mucli better shaped for a cucumber than a city. It is so long and slender that people who abide here pass a large part of their lives in getting up and down town. Take the hours in which they are so engaged out of their existence, and they would not know what to do with themselves. Such a change would be like extending their day to forty-eight hours. But getting up and down town, like everything else, has its uses. It helps to kill time, (why shouldn't we kill, when we can, what kills all of us at last?) and that was one of the original purposes of the Metropolis. In that, New-York has been a complete success.' A man, and of necessity a woman, can employ more hours here with less profit, than in any city of the World, Paris perhaps excepted. It is always noon in New- York, and before you think of the hour again it is midnight. So one can get through with his life very readily while wondering how he has wasted it To prevent Gothamites from being surprised at their own funerals while going to and from business, with the unimportant consideration of making large fortunes by swindling and incommoding the public, street rail- ways were established. They were, doubtless, designed by Providence to show mortals the wickedness of hu- Street-Railways. 467 man ways, and to plant thorns amid the roses of their pleasure. But for the railways man might long to linger forever in Manhattan. Compelled to patronize them, however, day after day, he sees this World is hollow, and aspires to another where the railways are not. Thus (it is the Pantheistic belief that partial evil is universal good) the railways have theologic virtues and enforce upon the human family the benison of wretchedness after the most approved orthodox fash- ion. What sybarites and epicureans might we not become, without the trials and sufferings resulting from the railways! Through them literally and metaphorically the iron enters the soul. Beauty and bouquets, love and happiness may await us up town. But remem- brance of the means of getting there spiritualizes the senses, abates all transports of the blood. It is the skeleton a£ the feast, the hair shirt against the bound- ing heart, the sword of Damocles above the luxurious board. The Rubicon of the rails divides us from our hopes and anticipations, and when we have passed it, afflic- tion has tempered us to moderate joys. The rails are as the purgatory through which we must wander before ascending to the blessings of paradise. It is a common error to suppose our street-railways were made for New-York. New- York was made for them. The island was formed by nature expressly for their construction, as a glance at the City map will instantly show. Without them people might get home too soon, and the weekly bills of mortality would be too small. Without them human patience and strength, fortitude and agility, would be less valued because less 468 The Great Metropolis. needed. New- York would be the very city of delighta — a Sodom and Gomorrah perhaps — would undergo a revolution of agreeableness, but for the iron bonds that bind us to a cruel doom and the inexorable destiny of riding on the cars. This City is for its sins accursed with at least twenty street-railways in the worst possible condition, running wherever one does not want to go, through the most repulsive quarters. They make money beyond all proportion to their investment; the public patronizing them liberally because the roads cheat passengers reg- ularly, and are opposed on principle to granting any accommodation. The roads have no rights (those of rendering their customers as uncomfortable as possible are of course natural and inalienable) that vehicles are bound to respect ; and every vehicle that can interfere with the progress of a car has won the favor 9f fortune. The commerce of the Metropolis is opposed to the rail- ways, and does everything in its power to increase their odiousness. Every possible box and bale, every truck and truckman that can be used to obstruct the roads is brought into requisition. Wagons bearing huge stones and ponderous machin- ery lie in wait for cars, and break down across the track. Brick piles tumble at the precise hour one selects to go up town, and cover the rails with impass- able debris. Even trees blow down, and old women are seized with fits, and fall directly across the iron- bound way. External, no less than human nature, seems in league against the roads ; and yet the passen- gers alone are the suiferers. Everybody and every- thing declare the railways nuisances, yet they endure Street-Rail WAYS. 469 and continue in the face of all opposition, and before the serious discountenance of the deities themselves. The railways are all close corporations. The mana- gers and stockholders always deny their profits. They secretly divide 15, 20 and 25 per cent., and beg for new privileges to sustain themselves. They declare they are merely anxious to accommodate the public, and the only man who ever was accommodated by them died the next moment from the unexpectedness of the sensation. The more money the roads make, the meaner they get. The larger their dividend, the greater their cur- tailment of the starvation-salaries of the drivers and conductors. They complain that their employes rob them. Why should they not? The owners plunder the public; why deny to their servants the same priv- ilege? If ever men were justified in stealing, the dri- vers and conductors are. Indeed, I am not sure it is not a virtue, when they are paid forty or fifty dollars a month, by those whose income is half as much an hour. If the employes would only steal the roads and the right of way at the same time, they would be public benefactors. We should honor them with crow^ns, and guarantee them against the prosecution of directors. The wonderful creature who renders street-railways impossible shall have a monument in Union Square higher than Washington's, and be represented on two horses. What is the father of his country compared to the mother of reform? The former was childless. The offspring of the latter will be blessed and unnum- bered. Extinguish the street-railways, root and branch, and 470 The Great Metropolis, steam-cars, the greatest need of the Metropolis, will supply their place. The traveler in the cars has a career of his own. The experience is peculiar as a life in Japan. One learns cynicism and feels suffocation in daily rides, so- called for courtesy, through the sinuosities and odors of the filthiest streets. There is no monotony, some romance, much danger and more disgust in the cars. Certain preparations are desirable, however, for the performance. The regular passenger should lose his sense of smell; have the capacity to shut himself up like a patent umbrella; be able to hang on a platform by the lids of his eyes; hold drunken men and fat women on his lap, eight or nine at a time, without dis- satisfaction or inconvenience ; put weeping and scream- ing children in his waistcoat pocket, and deliver them promptly when wanted; keep his temper and his port- monnaie ; be skilled as a pugilist and a crack-shot with a revolver. Those are the essentials for anything like resignation in the cars. The desiderata are beyond enumeration. But the best thing for a man or woman to do, who deems himself or herself compelled to ride on the cars, is to take some other conveyance. A volume might be written on the drolleries and adventures of the railway victims. He who has ridden on the cars for a few years, and outlived it, is as inter- esting as a man who has been through the War, or thrice married, or half his life a prisoner with the In- dians, He bears a charmed life. He could jump over Niagara without disarranging his hair ; or walk up to the bridal altar without trembling. He could do any- thing. He could read the morning papers without falling asleep. Street-Rail WAYS. 47] He has had all sorts of diseases, from the acuta scabies to typhus fever. He has been run over in every part of his body. He has been robbed of his valua- bles so often that conductors believe him a monoma- niac on the subject of pocket-picking. He has been beaten and cut and shot almost everywhere between his head and heels by pleasant gentlemen who insisted upon confounding his watch with theirs, and who held it as a cardinal article of faith that any one that insisted on keeping his own property deserved killing for the first offence, and to be a City Alderman for th e second. The discomforts and perils of car -journeying can hardly be over-estimated. That our people will under- take it merely proves the national recklessness. Pru- d^^nt persons leave their purses and watches in the safe deposit company, and carry bowie-knives and derrin- gers before venturing from Barclay to Forty-second street. I am often lost in admiration at the feats of postering and corporal convolution I witness on the cars, and wonder why people will pay to see the Arabs and Japanese, when they can for nothing have much more of that exhibition than they want. Think of a corpulent fellow balancing himself on a young woman's toes, and stealing his neighbor's breast- pin without changing his position ! Imagine a slender little chap holding himself over the end of the car by thrusting his head between the conductor's legs, and gamins in the street pulling his boots off, unknown to him, while the car goes round the corner! Fancy a baby sleeping on the summit of a drunken man's hat which is waltzing over the top of the vehicle ! Picture a clown making a boot-jack of a pretty seamstress' bon- net while his back is endeavoring in vain to accom- 472 The Great Metropolis. modate itself to the digestion of that timid clerical- looking person, who is dozing from exhaustion, and dreaming his stomach has been made the foundation of the new post-office, already complete. Could the gymnasts of the other hemisphere do anything like that? How true it is that we never appreciate what lies before us ! The marvels of street-railways impress us not. Neither their tragedy nor their comedy touches us. We have no idea what we endure, or what we escape, when we ride up or down town. We breathe an atmosphere of poison, and do not die. We travel with thieves and ruffians and murderers, and feel no alarm. We seize men by the beard or nose, and hang there, our feet resting only on vicious atmosphere, until we reach Harlem or Yorkville ; and they never murmur; for they can't surrender the luxuries of the cars. Who says the days of miracles have passed? Our street-railways are still tolerated ; and New- York yet remains outside of a lunatic asylum — perhaps be- cause it is a paradise of fools. CITY MrSSIOXARY. CHAPTER LHI. THE PAWNBROKERS. Love of money is the root of all evil, according to the Scriptures ; but in these modern days, want of money is nearly as prolific of ill. In great cities where almost everything must be bought, poverty is at least one parent of sin. The prosperous are rarely tempted ; have little excuse for crime. But to those whom indi- gence presses,*" the way to wickedness is all down hill. In vast commercial centers, sin is only another name, usually, for ignorance or suffering. Where ease and culture are, the ghastliness of crime is rarely seen. But material necessity drives men headlong, and urges them to perdition or to woe. These truths are constantly exemplified at the pawn- brokers' offices, the sombre half-way houses between wretchedness and death. The pawnbroker's shop should be under the shadow of the Morgue, for the distance, between them is often shudderingly short. Pawnbrokers' offices are plague spots upon the fair forms of cities. They show deep-seated if not in- curable disease. They are the symbols of suffering, the representatives of misfortune and of want. They cannot exist in entirely healthful atmospheres. Like I 474 The Great Metropolis. certain noxious plants, they feed on the poisons of the air. Pawnbrokers' offices are bad signs for cities. Where they are most, the places are worst. The locality that favors them is sickly and stricken with grief Dirt, and over-crowding, and rum-selling, and prostitution, and wretchedness in every form, are fit neighbors for pawnbrokers' shops ; for among, and out of, such sur- roundings, the three golden balls gleam dismally. Our best quarters reveal no pawnbrokers. They are banished from the light of content and of comfort. They creep out of Broadway even, away from the pleasant breathing-places, into the regions where the air is foul, and the houses look dark. The east side of the town abounds in them. Chat- ham street and the Bowery are devoted to them. There are several hundreds, probably, in the whole City. They groAv with its growth of poverty, and strengthen with its strength of misfortune. They may not impress others as they do me. But I never pass them on the fairest day, that the sun does not seem a little obscured, and the freshest breeze touching them has the sense of taint. Pawnbrokers are born ; they are rarely made. Like corporatipns, they have no souls. They subsist on adversity as vultures on carrion. They are of ill omen, and riot in ruin. They are of one race, gen- erally, and look like cruel brothers, banded together in the cause of avarice against humanity. The phrenologists are fond of giving typical heads, calling them the thinker, the observer, the bully, the fool. Why don't they give the pawnbroker ? He is distinctive, He is a human type of inhumanity. You The Pawnbrokers. 475 would know him among a thousand men. His eye is keen, but cold and pitiless. His complexion is un- wholesome. His atmosphere repels you. His beak is prominent and sharp. His movements are stealthy. His air is treacherous. When he passes, if you ai'e sensitive, you shudder without seeing him, and in- stinctively feel for your pocket-book. No doubt he has a heart somewhere, could you but find it ; but it is not in his business. When he enters his shop, he shuts up the troublesome organ, locks it, and hangs the key out of reach. " Come hither, ye that are needy," he says, " and if ye have aught, it shall be taken from you." I presume he reasons himself into a certain stern justice of his calling. Perhaps he says to himself: "I am hard ; but the World is hard also. I am pitiless, but destiny is pitiless. I must live. I am against my kind ; but my kind is against me. Am I not wise to steel myself against my fellows, who would cheat me if they could?" The pawnbroker offends not the law — the law that legislators make. Neither does the smooth destroyer of human happiness, the quiet treader upon tender hearts. Alas, that the deepest crimes are those the law cannot reach ! Pawnbrokers' offices are different in seeming, though their dealings are all alike. They show the close con- nection between moral and material purity. They are generally dismal and unclean. They are musty, and savor of foulness. Dust and grime are upon them. They reek with unwelcome odors. But sometimes they affect cheerfulness and pleasantness. They put flowers on their counters, and birds against their walls. 476 The Great Metropolis. But they are the wreaths on tombs. The flowers have little fragrance ; the birds will hardly sing. Nature has her own secrets, and she cannot deceive. Look into yonder shop ! A fleet of all wares seems to have stranded within its walls. What old jewelry and old clothes establishments have emptied themselves there ! What glitter, and gewgaws, and rubbish ! What odds and ends of civilized forms are these ! Has the Nile of creation overflowed, and left these debris upon its banks ? One wonders so small a place can hold such variety. Here are watches of every pattern and value, from the elegant and modern chro- nometer, to the queer, old-fashioned time-piece George the First might have carried ; from the dainty, enam- eled trinket that may very naturally have forgotten to reckon time in some sweet woman's bosom, to the pewter monster created to deceive. Here are dia- monds, and rubies, and pearls, and emeralds in gold forms, that our great-grandmothers wore, and in gold fresh and bright as from Broadway cases. Weapons of divers sorts are in the place, as if the broker had gone with a search-warrant for arms, over all the World. Guns, and pistols, and knives, and swords, and daggers. Curiously wrought, some of them ; such as I seem to have seen in Sicily, Smyrna, India and Arabia. A Colt's revolver lies against a Revolutionary musket. A Spanish stiletto supports itself lapon an American bowie-knife. A delicate poniard hangs from the same nail with a Scotch broad- sword. What a heap of clothing, too ! The remnant of Life's masquerade might have ended here. The last revelers must have been frightened, slipped out of The Pawnbrokers. 477 their costumes, and fled. The fashions of centuries seem represented. Gowns that the duchess of Ports- mouth might have worn for profligate Charles' admi- ration, or Maintenon asked Louis to approve, or Agnes Sorrel put on to find new favor with her royal lover. That resembles the dress the handsome English woman danced in that memorable evening at Brighton, and ran away in, perhaps, the next morning, with her lover, her husband's best friend. This delicate, but now soiled pearl-colored silk, I imagine I waltzed with last season, at the Academy, in a space five feet square. But I dare say I am at fault. My imagination deceives me as it did about the wearer. She was a darling while I flattered her ; but a devil when I told her the truth. We wear the invisible cap, you know. You and I will stand aside, reader, and see who patronizes the broker. Our Hebrew friend is engaged in filing a gold coin, and won't perceive us, so intent is he upon his little fraud. No grief in this showy, coarse woman's face as she enters. She is gaily and expensively attired. She is painted like a new sign-board, and redolent of musk. Her voice is unpleasant, and her syntax blunders. " What'll you lend me on this 'ere? (She oflers a large gold miniature, with a sad, feminine face that looks older from trouble than years.) You see it's purty." " Veil, madam, ve can't shell dese tings. Osher beeble's picshers ishn't vorsh much vid us. Only goot for ole golt, dat ish all, madam, I pledges you mine vort of honor. I geeve you fife tollars — dash ish more dan it ish vorsh, I shvear." 478 The Great Metropolis. " 0 well, take it along. I don't want it. It makes me feel onpleasant whenever I look at it." She delivers the miniature, receives the money, and trips out. "Dat ish a goot bargain," chuckles Mr. Abrahams. " I knows dem kind of vimmen. Dey'U take anyshing. I can git twenty-five dollars for dis any time I vant. I hope I ave more cushtomers like her." The miniature has a history, as almost everything else has in a pawnbroker's collection. It belonged to a poor seamstress who came to the City from New- Jer- sey, and with whom fortune went ill. She was thrown out of employment ; was almost starving ; was driven to prostitution. For two years she led a life she hourly revolted at. She fell sick of iTrain fever. Before a week was over, the proprietress of the house in which she sold herself — the coarse woman that has just d& parted — demanded payment of the girl's board. — Money the girl had not, nor a friend in the whole City. The hard woman searched her trunk ; found the min- iature of the poor child's mother, and seized it for debt. Edith pleaded hard for that ; but she pleaded to marble. Forsaken, wretched, desperate, consumed with fever, mad with sufferings of body and mind, she went out that very night ; begged money enough to buy laudanum, and was found dead in the morning. Old as the story is, it were blessing if age could rob it of its horror. This sleek-looking person pulfs his cigar calmly as he draws a fine watch and chain from his pocket, and lays them silently on the counter. "Feefty dollar," hesitatingly utters Mr. Abrahams. "0 you be d d! Give me a hundred, and you shall have it." The Pawnbroker. 479 "Veil, I'll shust tell you, Misther Munroe. Dis vatch " " 0 dry up, you old Jew ! Give me the money or the watch ! " " You'se a sharp shentleman ; " and the Israelite tries to laugh, as he hands over a hundred dollar note. "Sharp, you old scoundrel? The watch is worth three times this. I'll redeem it to-morrow. But I had a bad run at faro last night. Better luck to- night." Soliloquizing he departs. The watch belonged to a merchant in West Broad- way. His son has been gambling lately; and his fa- ther refusing to give him money, the young scape- grace carries off the paternal chronometer; places it before the hungry tiger, and the tiger devours it at a mouthful. A low, square forehead thrusts itself into the door- way. A bad eye darts into the shop, and then up the street and down and across. Then a heavy form with a light step advances warily. " Somethin' han'some this mornin' Abrahams. Good for sore eyes, old cully." "Come dish way," and the broker beckons the bru- tal-looking man into a little room in the rear. A conversation in a low tone ; and in a few moments the cautious animal creeps out; again darts his eye up and down and across the street, and hurriedly dis- appears. The broker returns to the shop, his eyes dancing over a pair of bracelets that kindle in the light. In his gladness he knocks down a musket in the corner. He starts in terror ; conceals his treasure, and tries to look 480 The Great Metropolis. bland and innocent, which makes him seem twice a villain. The bracelets were stolen two nights before by the burglar who brought them there, from a house in Twen- ty-third street, where the inmates sleep sound, and leave their keys in the doors. Mr. Abrahams has a number of such customers, but he does not keep what they leave with him in pledge ; for he fears the police may be looking for the stolen wares, and knows that they will never be redeemed. Pale and sad is she who comes so timidly in. She looks the picture of pity. Any lineament of her face would melt any heart but a paAvnbroker's. Lamartine would write a poem to it ; and an unsentimental Amer- ican would give it five dollars. She trembles, and is so nervous she cannot speak while she draws from her bosom a little gold cross and chain. She turns partially, and kisses them ere she delivers them to his unholy hands. She puts her delicate hand to her slender chest, and coughs hollowly. Her lips move, but no audible sound escapes. "Vas ish it, mish? I cannot hear you." She summons courage and strength, and says, "My mother is dying, sir. We have no money in the house. I can't even buy medicine for her. Give me some- thing for the little cross. But keep it, please. It is very precious to me. I'll redeem it when my poor mother is dead ; for then I can work again." Tears choke her, and, putting her head in her hands, she sobs bitterly. "Your mutter is dyin' ; oh, yes; mutters die like everybody elsh. But is it sholid gold, mish? I give two tollars." TF]K FI];ST SXOW. NOTICES OF THE PRESS. From the New York Tribune. BROWNE'S GREAT METROPOLIS. THE GREAT METROPOLIS ; A Mirror of New-York. By Jun- ius IIknri Browne. 8vo. pp. 700. Hartford : American Publish- ing Company. Tire autlior of tliis volume is favorably known to the public by his vi,2;orous sketches of personal experience in the military prison at An- dersonville, ami his brisk dashing contributions to various prominent journals as a city correspondent. He wields a facile, and not ungrace- ful pen, his style bears the marks both of culture and reflection, and though often tinctured with an infusion of pungent satire, is usually warmed by a genial spirit of humanity. In preparing this volume, if he has somewhat too freely indulged in the besetting vice of modern jour- nalists, — the exposure of the retirements of private life, — his portraitures fv^rthe most part are not prompted by an idle love of gossip, or ill-tem- pered malignity : hut l)y an evident desire to feed the natural curiosity of tli(^ public with reg u'd to the character and ongoings of men, who are conspicuous in social, commercial, financial, or literary life. The best part of ins work, however, is devoted to an account of what may be called the soci:d anatomy of New-York, without special personal refer* ences, including its highways and byways, the throng and bustle of its vis- ible activity, and the secret miderground channels in which crime and misery mean