Chapter XII

A glorious occupation on this continent is that of a merchant! He has no superior. There is no class of citizens that excel, or even equal him, except it be editors. Lawyers are respectable, if they conduct their business properly; but in this community they rarely raise their heads, unless so lucky as to become patronized by merchants.

Take Daniel Lord, Jr., the late George Griffin or George Wood, Charles O'Connor, Francis B. Cutting, Francis R. Tilyon, John H. Power, James T. Brady, or Lewis B. Woodruff, or Charles P. Daly. Would these men, however great may be their abilities, ever have risen to the distinction they have reached, unless they had received the patronage and confidence of merchants? No. They are all rich. Would they have become so, but for the business afforded by merchants? No.

Take our lawyers who have turned their attention to politics—a class that the live merchant despises—but still men who have got a right to attach the doubtful meaning word "Honorable" to their names, say, W. B. McClay, John McKeon, Elisha Ward, Horace Clark, Judge James I. Roosevelt and that class. As practising lawyers they are dead. Having been in Congress, the Administration gives an office to some of them, if asked for. I could name five hundred men—political lawyers—if I had a Directory before me, who could not pay the fractional office rents by their regular business. No. In rank, the lawyer occupies a secondary position, for he lives and thrives off the business created for him by the more planning, combining genius of the great merchant.

So too, it is with the physician. How slow and dreary is the progress of every great medical man for weeks, months and years, until he becomes a favored protege of the merchant princes in our midst?

Is it not so, Doctors Cheeseman, Mott, Hosack, Bush, Buck, Carnochan, and 500 other M. D. gentleman? You now keep carriages and gigs, but until you obtained commerical patronage you could not have kept a good-sized cat in a thriving condition.

No man in the medical ranks has fairly thriven, until he has got a chance to operate upon the pocket books, as well as bodies of our great merchants. Consequently the learned medical faculty do, and ever will, play second fiddle to the great merchants.

The clergymen, in this city, never get on and become very great, very good, or very popular, until they can spot in their congregations and audiences fifty or a hundred extensive merchants. Dr. Tyng says so; and Henry Ward Beecher, with all his comicality, would be a small party in Plymouth Church, but for his wealthy, mercantile congregation. So it is with Doctors Potts, Hawks, Cheever, &c, &c.

Save and except the Catholic churches, and rich old Trinity and her four chapels, no congregation in the city would get on, and be self-sustaining, except it numbered in its communion wealthy merchants. It is all very fine to talk of the inspiration of ministers of the Gospel. Their propelling power in this city, the steam, is in the merchants; and consequently the clergy are a secondary class of the community, no matter how gifted they may be.

There is no nobility in this country. There is a class of princes, and they are the highest in the city. These princes can be seen every day (except Sundays) at a daily Congress in the Merchant's Exchange, between one and two o'clock. There can be seen princes of commerce, and such names as are good in Asia, Africa, Europe, or in any part of America. There are the princes Goodhue, Aspiuwall, Aymar, Perit, King, Grinnell, Minturn, Howland, Boorman, Griswold, and a pit full of other names of world-wide renown.

What do such men as these care for the ephemeral four year names of Buchanan, Pierce, Polk, Cass, Cobb, Tyler, Fillmore, Everett, Floyd, and some five hundred others equally notorious names that have figured in politics.

No, sir! The merchant princes despise such names. They are not good in Wall street, nor would the bearers be received in the social domestic circles of the self-satisfied merchant unless they could be regularly introduced by an equal or by some regular correspondent of "the firm" in this or other cities.

Few of this generation will remember the name of Hone. Yet there are readers of this book who will recollect a day when that name was as highly honored and as extensively known in this city as it possibly could be.

As far back as I can recollect, there were two brothers in the auction business of the name of Hone. The firm was "Philip & John Hone." Their auction store was up in Fulton street around the corner from Pearl. John Hone lived in one of the seven houses fronting the Bowling Green. Stephen Whitney lived and died on one end of Bowling Green Row, and John Hone on the other.

Both brothers were magnificent specimens of American men. Philip Hone lived up Broadway, one door this side of the South corner of Park place. The corner at that time was covered by a small wooden tenement, and on the first floor thread and needles were sold.

The Hones were the creme de la creme of society in those days. Philip and John Hone had made large fortunes. In 1826 they dissolved, and Philip was elected Mayor of the City of New York.

John Hone for the sake of his sons determined to continue the auction business under the name of "John Hone & Sons." They built a store on the northeast corner of Wall and Pearl, where the Seamen's Savings Bank now stands.

Never had New York merchant so fine a collection of sons. They were noble looking fellows. Henry was the handsomest man, in 1830, in the United States. John Jr., was a noble fellow. He died in Rome, and his widow afterward married lawyer Frederick DePeyster.

Isaac Hone, another son, was of this firm, and after a variety of mercantile ups and downs, disasters and successes, became a deputy collector under Collector Hugh Maxwell. At one time Isaac was of the firm of Hone & Fleming. His partner, John B. Fleming, drew a prize in the lottery, of thirty thousand dollars. Two other sons were members of the rich firm of John Hone & Sons. Henry was one. He lived up opposite St John's Park in Varick street, a few doors from the church. What dinner parties that man gave. What choice "Chateaux Margeaux," and Lynch's "Sauterne." Poor Dominick Lynch. Henry was elected a member of the Legislature at one time. He married as his second wife Miss Haywood. Although opposed by her father Henry flaywood of Charleston S. C. (who owned 2,500 negroes and who resided in the old mansion with pillars, seen by the Democratic delegates as they came out of Charleston last April, on the line of the North Eastern Railroad,) and who did not like Hone at all. It was of no use, this opposition. Harry Hone was a dashing fellow and he carried the day. Miss Haywood ran away from her father and married handsome Harry. She was rich, and loved her husband; but he, alas, poor Harry—down, down, down he went, and finally died in a low rum shop in Chatham street. All gone—used up—his death a mercy, for his wife allowed him so much a year to keep clear of her.

Another of the firm of John Hone & Sons, was the now well-known Myndert Van Schaick; he married a daughter of John Hone. John Anthony, the lawyer, married another daughter. Van Schaick was the indoor man, and used to hand down the pieces of dry goods from the shelves during a sale at auction. Of all that crowd, Van Schaick is the only one left.

Old James Buchanan, the British consul in those years, had several sons. One was a clerk with John Hone & Sons. One night, previous to a large trade sale, the clerks were very busy opening boxes, taking out goods, and putting them on the shelves; the store doors were closed, it was near eleven o'clock at night, and the clerks got to sky-larking among themselves. One young fellow says to young Buchanan, "Give me that chisel, I want to pry open this box." Young Buchanan playfully tossed it at him, never dreaming of harm. It entered the young man's right side, and he fell dead. It was an accident, but it preyed upon young Buchanan's mind so greatly, that his father sent him off traveling.

John Hone died in the cholera year of 1832, and for some time the style of the firm remained unchanged.

About that time, an evil had grown up in this city, or at least, our wise legislature twenty-five years ago so deemed it. Many firms were doing business under old names not in the firm. The legislature passed a law, that no name should appear in a mercantile firm, unless there really was such a person in the firm. This law made a stir. "John Hone & Sons," was a well established firm, but John Hone was dead, and this style came under the new law penalty. The sons got over it by changing the firm to "John Hone's Sons," consisting then of Isaac, Henry and Myndert VanSchaick.

One of the Hone merchants firm, Mr. Van Schaick, retired rich, or rather the moderate sum with which he left business, has in real estate become vastly valuable. He for a long time lived up in Broadway between Anthony and Leonard streets. On that same side, and row, lived also John Mason, James Heard, John G. Warren, Jacob Le Roy and John H. Howland. Afterwards, on one corner, Ned Windust kept his celebrated Athenæum Hotel, then the resort of everybody who was any body.

One of the most remarkable houses of the present day is Grinnell, Minturn & Co. Originally, it was Fish & Grinnell, fifty years ago. The members of the firm came here from New Bedford to attend to the oil and candle business of New Bedford whale oil merchants The head of the firm was Preserved Fish. He had been, while a babe, found floating by a New Bedford fisherman, who named the interesting modern Moses, Preserved Fish. The original Grinnell was the honorable Moses. The junior partner was the celebrated Saul Alley, who was a famed man in after years as a politician. When Fish, Grinnell & Co. dissolved, the firm was changed to Grinnell, Minturn & Co., and Robert B. Minturn was taken in the concern. R. B. was the son of Edward Minturn, of the firm of Champlin & Minturn, the great house before the war of 1812. In 1815, the firm failed. There were three Minturns in that old firm, Nat, Jonas and Edward.

Jonas also had a son named Richard R. Minturn. His melancholy death from jumping out of a window of a third story, some years ago, will be well remembered. Jonas Minturn went into the auction business under the firm of Franklin & Minturn. Franklin was the father and grandfather of the present firm of Franklin & Sons, in Broad street. Old Franklin was a Quaker, short and thick set. The firm of Franklin & Minturn was succeeded by R. R. Minturn & Co., being the suicide above named and his brother Thomas. The Minturns were and are a good-looking race of men. Six foot men with rosy cheeks and curly black hair.

Robert B., who is the head of Grinnell, Minturn & Co. to-day, used to live in Beach street opposite St. John's Park. He is not only celebrated as a merchant, but has a daughter of sweet seventeen that has just written and published a novel called "Rutledge." A Philadelphia correspondent says:

"The Author of Rutledge.—Not a little curiosity has been expressed to learn who the young lady is who wrote 'Rutledge,' one of the best novels of American society that have been published in a long while. The publishers (Derby & Jackson) have been teased to death by all sorts of people to know who did it. The senior partner answers all askers by saying that the author is a young woman of twenty, (more or less), a church woman educated at Bishop Doane's school.

I will go just a step further, and 'guess' it is the production of Miss Minturn, a daughter of one of our merchant princes—Mr. Robert B. Minturn. The Minturns, aside from being one of our historical families, (the firm of Grinnell, Minturn & Co., has stood unchanged for over forty years) have made their mark in literature. Young Minturn, who has just been admitted a partner in the firm, is the author of a clever book of travels—'New York to Delhi.'"

Unchanged for forty years! That is not so. The firm was changed in 1832, after the new law alluded to in a previous paragraph was passed. Fish not being in the firm: Fish, Grinnell & Co. had to be changed to Grinnell, Minturn & Co. The last has stood unchanged twenty-eight years. The junior partner of this firm was young Delano, a son of the old packet Captain. Frank Delano was a handsome fellow, and captivated a daughter of William B. Astor.

Grinnell, Minturn & Co. do all sorts of commercial business now. All is fish that gets into their nets, although in the early days of Fish, Grinnell & Co. it was not so. They sell oil, and they operate in Canton. They send packet ships to London, and act as agents of "Great Easterns."

Fish, Grinnell & Co., when they first opened shop in this city did nothing but an oil business. They sold two kinds of oil, good and bad. Among the regular customers was a pedlar named Samuel Judd. At first he kept no shop, but peddled his oil, poor and good, which lie mixed to suit himself, about town. After a while his peddling perseverance was rewarded, and he was able to take a 6x9 store down near the old Fly Market.

Finally Samuel Judd obtained contracts and became vastly rich. James F. Penniman who sold his large house up by Union Square to Ben Wood, married one of Sam Judd's daughters. Lewis K. Bridge married another, and J. C. Baldwin, of the firm of Baldwin & Forbes, in Coffee House Slip, married another. He is now the President of the Merchant's Exchange Company. They were the most beautiful girls ever grown in New York, were old Sam Judd the oil pedler's daughters. Poor old fellow, he ought to have been spared to see his son-in-law, James F. Penniman, become the leader of society, both in New York and in Paris.