Lights and Shadows of New York Life

J >> James D. McCabe >> Lights and Shadows of New York Life

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58

The energy and business tact displayed by Mr. Stewart at length brought
him their reward. In 1828, he found his little room too small for his
trade. He leased a small store, thirty feet deep, on Broadway, between
Chambers and Warren streets. Here he remained four years, his trade
increasing rapidly all the while. In 1832, he removed to a two-story
building in Broadway, between Murray and Warren streets, and in a short
time was obliged by the growth of his business to add twenty feet to the
depth of his store, and to put an additional story on the building. A
year or two later he added a fourth story, and in 1837 a fifth story, so
rapidly did he prosper. He had now a large and fashionable trade, had
fairly surmounted all his early difficulties, and had laid the foundation
of the immense fortune he has since acquired.

The great commercial crisis of 1837 was not unexpected by him. It had
always been his habit to watch the market closely, in order to profit by
any sudden change in it, and his keen sagacity enabled him to foresee the
approach of the storm and to prepare for it. He marked his goods down at
an early day and began to "sell for cost," conducting his operations on a
strictly cash basis. The prices were very low, the goods of the best
quality, and he found no difficulty in obtaining purchasers. People were
glad to save money by availing themselves of his low prices. In the
midst of the most terrible crisis the country had ever seen, when old and
established houses were breaking all around him, he was carrying on a
thriving business. His cash sales averaged five thousand dollars per
day. Other houses, to save themselves, were obliged to sell their goods
at auction. Thither went Stewart regularly. He bought these goods for
cash, and sold them over his counters at an average profit of forty per
cent. On a lot of silks for which he paid fifty thousand dollars he
cleared twenty thousand dollars in a few days. He came out of the crisis
a rich man and the leading dry-goods dealer of New York.

A few years later he purchased the property lying on the east side of
Broadway, between Chambers and Reade streets, on which he built a
magnificent marble store. He moved into it in 1846. His friends
declared that he had made a mistake in erecting such a costly edifice,
and that he had located it on the wrong side of Broadway. Besides, he
was too far up town. He listened to them patiently, and told them that
in a short time they would see his new store the centre of the
fashionable retail trade of the city. His prediction was speedily
fulfilled.

A few years ago, finding that the retail trade was deserting its old
haunts, below Canal street, and going up town, be began the erection of
his present retail store, into which he moved as soon as it was
completed, retaining his lower store for his wholesale business.

During the war, he made large profits from his sales to the Government,
though he exhibited genuine patriotism in these dealings by charging only
the most liberal prices for his goods. The gains thus realized by him
more than counterbalanced the losses he sustained by the sudden cessation
of his trade with the South.

Fifty-four years have now elapsed since he first set foot in New York,
poor and unknown, and to-day Mr. Stewart is the possessor of a fortune
variously estimated at from thirty to fifty millions of dollars, and
which is growing larger every year. The greater portion of his wealth is
invested in real estate. He owns his two stores, the Metropolitan Hotel,
and the Globe Theatre, on Broadway, and nearly all of Bleecker street
from Broadway to Depau Row, several churches, and other valuable
property. He owns more real estate than any man in America except
William B. Astor, and is the most successful merchant in the world. He
has acquired all this by his own unaided efforts, and without ever
tarnishing his good name by one single dishonest act. Any man may be
proud of such a record.

Mr. Stewart is one of the hardest workers in his vast establishment.
Though he has partners to assist him, he keeps the whole of his extensive
operations well in hand, and is really the directing power of them. He
goes to his business between nine and ten in the morning, and works until
five, and is never absent from his post unless compelled to be away.

His time is valuable, and he is not willing to waste it; therefore access
to him is difficult. Many persons endeavor to see him merely to gratify
their impertinent curiosity, and others wish to "interview" him for
purposes which simply consume his time. To protect himself, he has been
compelled to resort to the following expedient: A gentleman is kept on
guard near the main door of the store, whose duty it is to inquire the
business of visitors. If the visitor replies that his business is
private, he is told that Mr. Stewart has no private business. If he
states his business to the satisfaction of the "sentinel," he is allowed
to go up stairs, where he is met by the confidential agent of the great
merchant, to whom he must repeat the object of his visit. If this
gentleman is satisfied, or cannot get rid of the visitor, he enters the
private office of his employer, and lays the case before him. If the
business of the visitor is urgent, he is admitted, otherwise an interview
is denied him. If admitted, the interview is brief and to the point.
There is no time lost. Matters are dispatched with a method and
promptitude which astonish strangers. If the visitor attempts to draw
the merchant into a conversation, or indulges in complimentary phrases,
after his business is arranged, Mr. Stewart's manner instantly becomes
cold and repelling, and troublesome persons are not unfrequently given a
hint to leave the room. This is his working time, and he cannot afford
to waste it. In social life, he is said to be a cultivated and agreeable
man.

Mr. Stewart resides in a handsome brown stone mansion at the northeast
corner of Fifth avenue and Thirty-fourth street. Immediately across the
avenue, he has erected a residence of white marble, the handsomest and
costliest dwelling in the Union, and one of the handsomest private
residences in the world. It is said to have cost upwards of two millions
of dollars. "The marble work, which forms the most distinguishing
characteristic of this palatial abode, receives its entire shape and
finish in the basement and first floor of the building. The fluted
columns (purely Corinthian, and with capitals elaborately and delicately
carved), which are the most striking feature of the main hall, are alone
worth between three thousand five hundred and four thousand dollars each.
On the right of this noble passage, as you proceed north from the side
entrance, are, the reception and drawing rooms, and the breakfast and
dining rooms, all with marble finish, and with open doors, affording
space for as splendid a promenade or ball as could be furnished probably
by any private residence in Europe. To the left of the grand hall are
the marble staircase and the picture-gallery--the latter about
seventy-two by thirty-six feet, lofty and elegant, and singularly well
designed. The sleeping apartments above are executed upon a scale
equally luxurious and regardless of expense. Externally, the building
must ever remain a monument of the splendor which, as far as opulence is
concerned, places some of our merchants on a footing almost with royalty
itself, and a glance at the interior will be a privilege eagerly sought
by the visiting stranger."

Mr. Stewart is not generally regarded as a liberal man in the metropolis,
probably because he refuses to give indiscriminately to those who ask his
assistance. Yet he has made munificent donations to objects which have
enlisted his sympathy, and has on hand now several schemes for bettering
the condition of the working classes, which will continue to exert a
beneficent influence upon them long after he has passed away. His
friends--and he has many--speak of him as a very kind and liberal man,
and seem much attached to him.

Mr. Stewart is now seventy years old, but looks twenty years younger. He
is of the medium height, has light brown hair and beard, which are
closely trimmed. His features are sharp, well cut, his eye bright, and
his general expression calm, thoughtful, and self-reliant. His manner is
courteous to all, but reserved and cold except to his intimate friends.
He dresses quietly in the style of the day, his habits are simple, and he
shuns publicity.

XXXV. PLACES OF AMUSEMENT.

I. THE THEATRES.

There are sixteen theatres in New York usually in full operation. Taking
them in their order of location from south to north, they are the Stadt,
the Bowery, Niblo's, Theatre Comique, the Olympic, Lina Edwin's, the
Globe, Wallack's, Union Square, the Academy of Music, the Fourteenth
Street, Booth's, the Grand Opera House, the Fifth Avenue, the St. James,
and Wood's.

They are open throughout the fall and winter season, are well patronized,
and with one or two exceptions are successful in a pecuniary sense.
There are usually from 50,000 to 100,000 strangers in the city, and the
majority of these find the evenings dull without some amusement to
enliven them. Many of them are persons who come for pleasure, and who
regard the theatres as one of the most enjoyable of all the sights of the
city; but a very large portion are merchants, who are wearied with buying
stock, and who really need some pleasant relaxation after the fatigues of
the day. To these must be added a large class of citizens who are fond
of the drama, and who patronize the theatres liberally. All these, it is
stated, expend upon the various amusements of the place about $30,000 per
night; and of this sum the larger part goes into the treasury of the
theatres. The sum annually expended on amusements is said to be from
$7,000,000 to $8,000,000.

The New York theatres richly deserve the liberal patronage they enjoy.
In no other city are such establishments as elegant and commodious, and
nowhere else in America are the companies as proficient in their art, or
the plays as admirably put upon the stage.

[Picture: BOOTH'S THEATRE.]

The most beautiful theatre in the city is _Booth's_, at the southeast
corner of the Sixth avenue and Twenty-third street. It was begun in the
summer of 1867, and opened to the public in January, 1869. It is in the
Renaissance style of architecture, and stands seventy feet high from the
sidewalk to the main cornice, crowning which is a Mansard roof of
twenty-four feet. "The theatre proper fronts one hundred and forty-nine
feet on Twenty-third street, and is divided into three parts, so combined
as to form an almost perfect whole, with arched entrances at either
extremity on the side, for the admission of the public, and on the other
for another entrance, and the use of actors and those employed in the
house. There are three doors on the frontage, devised for securing the
most rapid egress of a crowded audience in case of fire, and, in
connection with other facilities, said to permit the building to be
vacated in five minutes. On either side of these main entrances are
broad and lofty windows; and above them, forming a part of the second
story, are niches for statues surrounded by coupled columns resting on
finely sculptured pedestals. The central or main niche is flanked on
either side by quaintly contrived blank windows; and between the columns,
at the depth of the recesses, are simple pilasters sustaining the
elliptic arches, which serve to top and span the niches, the latter to be
occupied by statues of the great creators and interpreters of the drama
in every age and country. The finest Concord granite, from the best
quarries in New Hampshire, is the material used in the entire facade, as
well as in the Sixth avenue side. The glittering granite mass,
exquisitely poised, adorned with rich and appropriate carving, statuary,
columns, pilasters, and arches, and capped by the springing French roof,
fringed with its shapely balustrades, offers an imposing and majestic
aspect, and forms one of the architectural jewels of the city."

In its internal arrangements the theatre is in keeping with its external
magnificence. Entering through a sumptuous vestibule, the visitor passes
into the magnificent auditorium, which is, in itself, a rare specimen of
decorative art. The seats are admirably arranged, each one commanding a
view of the stage. They are luxuriously upholstered, and harmonize with
the rich carpets which cover the floor. Three elegant light galleries
rise above the parquet. The walls and ceiling are exquisitely frescoed,
and ornamented with bas reliefs in plaster. The proscenium is
beautifully carved and frescoed, and is adorned with busts of the elder
Booth and the proprietor of the theatre; and in the sides before the
curtain are arranged six sumptuous private boxes. The curtain is an
exquisite landscape. The decoration of the house is not done in the
rough scenic style so common in the theatres of the country, but is the
perfection of frescoe painting, and will bear the closest inspection. It
is impossible, even with a strong glass, to distinguish between some of
the frescoes and the bas reliefs. The stage is very large, and rises
gradually from the footlights to the rear. The orchestra pen is sunk
below the level of the stage, so that the heads of the musicians do not
interfere with the view of the audience. The dressing of the stage is
novel. The side scenes, or wings, instead of being placed at right
angles to the audience, as in most theatres, are so arranged that the
scene appears to extend to the right and left as well as to the rear. In
this way the spectator is saved the annoyance of often looking through
the wings, a defect which in most theatres completely dispels the
illusion of the play. The scenery here is not set by hand, but is moved
by machinery, by means of immense hydraulic rams beneath the stage, and
the changes are made with such regularity and precision that they have
very much the effect of "dissolving views." The scenes themselves are
the work of gifted and highly educated artists, and never degenerate into
the rough daubs with which most playgoers are familiar. The building is
fireproof, and is warmed and ventilated by machinery. The great central
chandelier and the jets around the cornice of the auditorium are lighted
by electricity.

The plays presented here are superbly put on the stage. The scenery is
strictly accurate when meant to represent some historic locality, and is
the finest to be found in America. Perhaps the grandest stage picture
ever given to an audience was the graveyard scene in "Hamlet," which
drama, in the winter of 1869-70, "held the boards" for over one hundred
nights. The dresses, the equipments, and general "make up" of the actors
are in keeping with the scenery. Even the minutest detail is carefully
attended to. Nothing is so unimportant as to be overlooked in this
establishment.

With a few exceptions, the company is unworthy of the place and the fame
of the proprietor. Mr. Booth, himself, is the great attraction. It is
his custom to open the season with engagements of other distinguished
"stars," and to follow them himself about the beginning of the winter,
and to continue his performances until the spring, when he again gives
way to others. When he is performing it is impossible to procure a seat
after the rising of the curtain.

[Picture: GRAND OPERA HOUSE.]

The Grand Opera House is next to Booth's in beauty. It is much larger
than that theatre. But for its unfortunate location, nearly a mile from
Broadway, it would be one of the most successful establishments in the
city. The theatre is divided into two buildings, one fronting on the
Eighth avenue and Twenty-third street, and containing the offices and
entrances, and the theatre proper, which is in the rear of the former.
The former building is a magnificent structure of white marble, in the
Italian style of architecture. It fronts 113 feet on Eighth avenue, and
98 feet on Twenty-third street. It is adorned with statuary and
carvings, and is far too handsome for the part of the city in which it is
located. The greater portion of this building is taken up with the
offices of the Erie Railway Company.

The theatre proper is connected with the front building by means of a
superb vestibule, into which open the doors of the auditorium. It is one
of the most beautiful halls in America, and one of the pleasantest
lounging places. The auditorium is finished in light blue, white, and
gold, and when lighted up is magnificent. Every appointment and
decoration is tasteful and beautiful, and there are many persons who
consider it the finest interior in America. The stage is large and
convenient, and the scenery good. The performances are passable.

The house was built by Mr. Samuel N. Pike for an Opera House. It was not
successful, and was sold by him to the late Colonel James Fisk, Jr., for
$1,000,000, a slight advance upon its cost.

Wallack's Theatre, at the northeast corner of Broadway and Thirteenth
street, is, _par eminence_, _the theatre_ of New York. Its audiences are
more exclusively composed of citizens than those of any other house. New
Yorkers are proud of it, and on Thursday evenings, or the first night of
some new play, the audience will consist almost entirely of city people.
The theatre itself is very plain, and there are many things about it that
might be bettered. In other respects it is unqualifiedly the best
theatre in which the English language is spoken. It is devoted almost
entirely to comedy, and the plays presented on its stage are always of a
high character. The Star system is not adopted here, but the company
consists of the best and most carefully trained actors and actresses to
be found here or in England. It is emphatically a company of gentlemen
and ladies. At present it includes Lester Wallack, the proprietor, John
Brougham, Charles Mathews, John Gilbert, Charles Fisher, and J. H.
Stoddart, and Mrs. Jennings, Miss Plessy Mordaunt, Miss Effie Germon, and
Mrs. John Sefton. Mr. Wallack is very proud of his theatre, and with
good reason. He has made it the best in the country, and a model for the
best establishments in other cities. The greatest care is taken in the
production of plays, and every detail is presented to the audience with a
degree of perfection which other managers vainly strive to attain. The
scenery is exquisite and natural, the dresses are perfect--the toilettes
of the ladies being famed for their elegance, and the acting is true to
nature. There is no ranting, no straining for effect here. The members
of the company talk and act like men and women of the world, and
faithfully "hold the mirror up to nature." It is a common saying in New
York that even a mean play will be a success at Wallack's. It will be so
well put on the stage, and so perfectly performed by the company, that
the most critical audience will be disarmed.

The Fifth Avenue Theatre, on Twenty-fourth street, in the rear of the
Fifth Avenue Hotel, is next to Wallack's in popular favor. It is very
much such an establishment in the character and excellence of its
performances. It possesses a first-class company of ladies and
gentlemen, some of whom have achieved national reputations, and all of
whom are worthy of the highest praise. The theatre itself is a handsome
marble edifice, not very large, but of very attractive appearance. The
interior is bright and cheerful. The ceiling is finely frescoed, the
walls are panelled with large plate-glass mirrors, and the general effect
is very brilliant. The building was owned by the late Col. James Fisk,
Jr. The manager is Mr. Augustin Daly, a well-known writer of successful
plays. To his literary gifts Mr. Daly adds a high order of managerial
talent, and it is to his efforts exclusively that the very marked success
of the theatre is due.

The Academy of Music is, as its name indicates, the Opera House of New
York. It is a gloomy-looking structure without, but possesses a
magnificent auditorium, fitted up in the style of the European Opera
Houses. Its decorations are in crimson and gold, and are magnificent and
tasteful. It is the largest theatre in the city, and one of the largest
in the world. It is opened occasionally during the winter for operatic
performances. The audiences to be seen here are always in full dress,
and the toilettes of the ladies, to say nothing of the beauty of many of
the fair ones, offer a great attraction to sight-seers.

Niblo's Theatre, or as it is generally called, "Niblo's Garden," is
situated in the rear of the Metropolitan Hotel, with an entrance on
Broadway. It is one of the largest and handsomest theatres in the city,
and by far the coolest in warm weather. It is devoted principally to the
spectacular drama. It was here that the famous spectacle of the Black
Crook was produced. Its revival is to take place before these pages are
in print, and it will probably be continued throughout the remainder of
the season.

[Picture: ACADEMY OF MUSIC.]

The Olympic is a large, old-fashioned theatre, on Broadway, between
Houston and Bleecker streets. It is devoted to pantomime, and is famous
as the headquarters of the erratic genius who calls himself Humpty
Dumpty.

The Old Bowery Theatre, situated on the thoroughfare from which it takes
its name, below Canal street, is the only old theatre left standing in
the city. Three theatres have preceded it on this site, and all have
been destroyed by fire. Within the last few years, the interior of the
present theatre has been greatly modernized. The plays presented here
are of a character peculiarly suited to that order of genius which
despises Shakspeare, and hopes to be one day capable of appreciating the
Black Crook. "Blood and thunder dramas," they are called in the city.
The titles are stunning--the plays themselves even more so. A writer in
one of the current publications of the day gives the following truthful
picture of a "Saturday night at the Bowery:"

[Picture: THE OLD BOWERY THEATRE.]

"I had not loitered long at the entrance after the gas blazed up, when
from up the street, and from down the street, and from across the street,
there came little squads of dirty, ragged urchins--the true gamin of New
York. These at once made a gymnasium of the stone steps--stood on their
heads upon the pavements or climbed, like locusts, the neighboring
lamp-posts; itching for mischief; poking fun furiously; they were the
merriest gang of young dare-devils I have seen in a long day. It was not
long before they were recruited by a fresh lot of young 'sardines' from
somewhere else--then they went in for more monkey-shines until the door
should be unbarred. They seemed to know each other very well, as if they
were some young club of genial spirits that had been organized outside of
the barriers of society for a long while. What funny habiliments they
sported. It had never been my experience to see old clothes thrown upon
young limbs so grotesquely. The coat that would have been a fit for a
corpulent youth nearly buried a skinny form the height of your cane.

"And on the other hand, 'young dropsy's' legs and arms were like links of
dried 'bolonas' in the garments which misfortune's raffle had drawn for
him. Hats without rims--hats of fur, dreadfully plucked, with free
ventilation for the scalp--caps with big tips like little porches of
leather--caps without tips, or, if a tip still clung to it, it was by a
single thread and dangled on the wearer's cheek like the husk of a
banana. The majority seemed to have a weakness for the costumes of the
army and the navy. Where a domestic tailor had clipped the skirts of a
long blue military coat he had spared the two buttons of the waist-band,
and they rested on the bare heels like a set of veritable spurs. Shoes
and boots (and remember it's a December night) are rather scarce--and
those by which these savoyards could have sworn by grinned fearfully with
sets of naked toes. One 'young sport,' he had seen scarcely ten such
winters, rejoiced in a pair of odd-mated rubber over-shoes, about the
dimensions of snow-shoes. They saluted him as 'Gums.' A youngster, with
a childish face and clear blue eyes, now shuffled upon the scene.

"'O Lordy, here's Horace, jist see his get up.' A shout of laughter went
up, and Horace was swallowed in the ragged mob.

"'Horace' sported a big army cap like a huge blue extinguisher. He
wrapped his wiry form in a cut-down, long-napped white beaver coat, the
lapels of which were a foot square, and shingled his ankles as if he
stood between a couple of placards. I had seen the latest caricature on
the philosopher of the _Tribune_, but this second edition of H. G.
swamped it. I knew that that young rogue had counted upon the effect of
his white coat, and he enjoyed his christening with a gleeful face and a
sparkle in his blue eyes. O, for the pencil of a Beard or a Bellew, to
portray those saucy pug-noses, those dirty and begrimed faces! Faces
with bars of blacking, like the shadows of small gridirons--faces with
woful bruised peepers--faces with fun-flashing eyes--faces of striplings,
yet so old and haggard--faces full of evil and deceit.