Williamsburgh Word Portraits, No. 1

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WILLIAMSBURGH WORD PORTRAITS.

By Apelles —No. 1

I propose in this and some succeeding chapters, to present so accurate and faithful likenesses of Williamsburghers, that he who runs may read, and that all may recognize the subjects depicted, without my writing under the portrait—"this is a hero"—"this is an ass," as the case may be. My effort shall be to describe the lineaments of each so faithfully, that all who have seen the men shall acknowledge the verisimilitude.

Here comes down Grand street toward the ferry, a tall, powerful man of sixty, with a good-humored weather-beaten face, and dressed like a country farmer. Speak to him—he will listen with respect and deference to any civil remarks on any pertinent subject, from any one, however poor or humble. Yet he is no politician. Old as he is, he has not begun to learn the arts and wiles by which men insinuate themselves into the good graces of the dear people. He holds but one office, and that he receives no pay for, though it occupies nearly all his leisure time to go out to the distant sphere of his duties, and watch, with anxiety greater than that which he would bestow on his own property, the progress of works which the city has trusted him to over see. In going there he travels through a mile of his own property—once an old hilly farm, but soon to possess incalculable value as city lots. Long may our old Knickerbocker friend live to enjoy the wealth which will thus flow in upon him, for he is just the man to make a good use of it. They boast bravely down in Gowanus and Flatbush of their fine old Knickerbocker gentlemen; but he whom I am sketching is the noblest old Dutchman of them all Physically, or for his qualities of head and heart, I would match him as a specimen of manhood against the best that ever smoked a long pipe around the annual board of the St. Nicholas Society of Nassau Island.

The subject of my next sketch is middle sized, with a good humored face, and an utterance so rapid as almost sometimes to approach stammering. He is a living illustration of the Scripture Proverb—"There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth." Day after day, morning, noon, and night, tales of distress, of penury, of sorrow, are poured into the willing ear of this man, whom Providence has blessed with immense wealth almost in spite of himself; and just as frequently as appeals are made, assistance is rendered. With an income which might sustain the most palatial mansion in South 9th street, this man lives modestly close to his place of business, and among his workmen. It is an unfashionable quarter—a quarter where there is more wretchedness and poverty than anywhere else in the District—and therefore he lives there whose charitable deeds have saved many a man from crime, and many a child from starvation. There is one way only by which you can offend him, or cause him to depart from his usual good temper; and that is, to praise him to his face, or allude to his acts of benevolence. While others vauntingly boast of their rare acts of charity, this man delights in bestowing benefactions on the poor silently, through the unrecognized agency of others. During the deep distress of the winter of 1857–58, this one benevolent hand relieved more distress, in this way, than all the ostentatious subscriptions at public meetings alleviated. If the universal love and gratitude of the poor be a reward, he is abundantly repaid; and if charity covereth a multitude of sins, he has merit enough to hide far out of sight whatever venial failings may characterize him.

One sketch more, and my chapter is done. This time I select an inhabitant of a different ward from the others. A gentleman about fifty; middle sized, shaven face, close cropped grey hair, kid gloves, and walking stick. Never does he do anything which necessitates the removal of those gloves, or the resigning of that cane. His days of arduous labor are over; he exists on the memory of what he has been, but never will be again. For the days are passed when high social standing advances a man politically, in our large cities. A gentleman of the old school cannot stoop to influence the King-makers of Democracy. Our friend, too, is not so staunch as he might be in his political position; he does not trot comfortably in party harness. Indeed, if we mistake not, he had once the misfortune of having his name presented to two opposing Conventions at once—a fact destructive to his political reputation. Our subject is not only courteous, but an affable, genial man. He has filled high station worthily, loves the 'Burgh, is identified with it personally and pecuniarily, and has done as much as any man of his means to improve and beautify it. He still practises his professional duties, rather from love of occupation than necessity. He is often to be seen in the streets, is known by every one, and meets respectful salutations and kindly greetings on every hand. Few men, in a quiet way, are better liked; though his family and connexions place him decidedly among the "upper ten" of the 'Burgh, he never presumes on that fact, nor mistakes hauteur for dignity.

APELLES.