Chapter XLI

Passing along slowly to the grave, having traveled eighty or ninety years, we meet every now and then venerable men, who were men of mark in this town sixty or sixty-five years ago. Some, even before Washington died.

As we recognize them in the street, we involuntarily pause, in respectful attitude, and carefully mark their strange, shy look, acting as if strangers, or as if suddenly transferred to Pekin, or the city of the great Mogul, seeming to have forgotten the fact that they were once men of renown here. These very men can hardly realize that their city and its suburbs has grown from 23,000 to over a million of population!

Twenty-three thousand! Why, one can live among 23,000 people, and know almost everybody, even down to the little children, and be known to them, as you take your walk down to the Battery, in 1786—and that was only seventy-five years ago! The man we have in our mind's eye now was a man with an eagle eye and majestic presence three quarters of a century ago, and the eye has not dimmed yet.

"An old merchant?" ask our regular readers. No—not exactly; and yet so closely allied has he been with them, that I must allude to him. Sometimes I think I will add "and citizens" to "Old Merchants," so as to give me full latitude to write about all the old worthies of the past or present, whose names are familiar and dear to every thorough New Yorker.

A few days ago, a regiment called the "Steuben Volunteers" was presented with a flag made by a fair lady. An address was made by Judge Charles P. Daily—a most excellent and just judge, loved and respected, and in other years dearly esteemed by the great Calhoun. He made the address. Standing among the crowd of listeners was an old man, absorbed in the words—unknown to every one except "Walter Barrett," who philosophized upon the probable astonishment of both orator and crowd had they known the fact that the tall old man was regarded almost as a son by Baron Steuben, and that for many years he was an aid-de-camp and a member of the family of the Baron. Yet, such was the fact. I allude to John W. Mulligan.

I have no means of judging of the age of Mr. Mulligan, but I imagine he must have been born before the war, and not far from 1769. If I am right, he is now about ninety-two years old.

Baron Steuben lived down at No. 32 Broadway as late as 1792. I had marked out for this chapter, (Charles Brugiere, an extensive French merchant, who gave his magnificent hospitalities, well remembered now by many, at No. 32 Broadway, a few doors above the Adelphi Hotel.

After the war, the Baron was a prominent man in the city. He was Vice President of the Cincinnati Society, elected in 1786.

John W. Mulligan was admitted an attorney in the Supreme Court of the State, May 4, 1795, and he opened his office at No. 160 Broadway, where he lived with his father, Hercules Mulligan, an old respected citizen, during the war and many years after. He was one of the most fashionable merchant tailors in his day, and in the war kept at No. 23 Queen (Pearl), not far from Pine. He afterwards moved to No. 3 Vesey street, where the Astor House now stands. He must have died toward the close of the century. He was one of the famed "Sons of Liberty" that my learned friend Henry B. Dawson, of the Historical Society, has written and lectured so much and so satisfactorily about. Besides John W. Mulligan, Hercules had another son named William C. Mulligan. Both sons were lawyers, of extensive practice, for many years.

William C. did business as late as 1833, at No. 38 Cedar, and lived at 118 Chambers street. I remember though, about that time or later, he had an office or dwelling in Nassau, between Maiden Lane and Liberty. He must have died about 1835 or 1836. He left sons. His eldest was Henry Strong Mulligan, William was his second. He had other sons. Old William died rich. He was a very religious man, and a communist of Dr. Mason's Church in Cedar street.

He married Miss Strong, a daughter of Selah Strong, an eminent merchant in 1800. "Selah Strong & Son" had their store at No. 160 Front street. The name of the son was James. Old Mr. Strong lived many years at No. 12 Courtlandt street. James occupied the same house as late as 1832. He married Aletta Remsen, a daughter of Simon Remsen. She is still alive, and resides at some place on Long Island. James Strong, the brother-in-law of Mr. Mulligan, was also a brother-in-law and partner of Peter Remsen, who did business in New York for over forty years, commencing about 1796, and ending August 26, 1836, when he died. He opened a grocery store at No. 15 Coenties Slip, in the fomer year.

About the commencement of this century, the Rumsens were numerous as merchants, in this city. An uncle of Peter, named Rem, did business at No. 12, Little Dock (now Water street). Rem was a bachelor. His father was Peter Remsen, an old merchant in 1774 and who died in 1771. His grandson, Peter (Rem's nephew, and Strong's brother-in-law), did an immense business in later years. His store was a large double one at No. 109 Pearl, north side of Hanover Square, where Hoffman & Pell, auctioneers, now do business. He had many partners, and they all made fortunes. One was James Strong, another James McCall, and also Frank Olmstead. Mr. Peter lived at No. 2 Bowery many years, and after at No. 52 Broadway. His an cestors came here in 1632. Peter Remsen was an ex- traordinary mercantile man. He was director in many of our important corporations. He, for a long time, was a director in the Merchant's Bank, and associated with David Lydig at that Board.

Old Selah Strong (merchant) was an Alderman of the Third Ward in 1799 and some years following. John W. Mulligan was Assistant Alderman for the Third Ward from 1806 to 1809. He had a large legal prac- tice, and was for many years one of the most popular men in the city, where now few of this generation know him.

Sixty years ago, this young man was master of the Howard Masonic Lodge in this city. No man took a more active part in public affairs than Mr. Mulligan. He married a most amiable lady, and by her had some children. He had but one son—John W. Mulligan, Jr., a most estimable young man, who died a few years ago. Young John was brought up to be a merchant. He clerked it with the celebrated dry goods commission merchants, Horace Waldo & Co., 71 Pine street, and after leaving their employ, entered into business upon his own account, which he continued until his death. He married, but I think left no children. The elder Mulligan had three daughters. Somewhere about 1831, one of them married the Rev. Mr. Hill, and she and her sister Frederica, accompanied that gentleman to Greece, where the great American Mission School, under their charge, became so celebrated. I believe the School is still in existence, and that they are still there. After Mr. Mulligan lost his wife, and a younger daughter, Mary, he, too, went to Greece and resided at Athens many years. I believe he was United States Consul at Athens.

Mr. Hill was a particular friend of the late Dr. Milnor, who was so many years the rector of St. George's Church in Beekman street. Mr. Mulligan was one of the old doctor's favorites, until the death of the former separated them.

I have not spoken to the venerable Mulligan for many years, and I should certainly have not been led into bringing his name up in these chapters, had I not recognized his venerable form–standing alone, on a recent public occasion, unknown to the world, and where 70 years ago every one would have known him by name if not personally. Several lawyers of distinction were once students of Mr. Mulligan; among them was John Leveridge, who for many years had his law office at 145 Cherry street. I hope Mr. Mulligan may reach the good old age of 100 years.

I have already alluded to the French people who emigrated from France to St. Domingo in 1792, and from St. Domingo at a later period to this country. Most of them came to New York, a few went to Philadelphia. Among those who left France in 1792, and went to St. Domingo was Charles Brugiere. He was of a noble French family of that name. After the massacre of St. Domingo, he came to this country with a family of the name of Teisseire, and landed in Philadelphia. Shortly after their arrival in the Quaker City, Mr. Brugiere married Miss Teisseire, and then entered into a business co-partnership with her brother, under the firm of Brugiere & Teisseire, in 1801. Their nominal business dry goods importing and jobbing. They imported French goods to a heavy amount up to the war of 1812. This firm was as celebrated for its enormous business in those years, as A. T. Stewart & Co., of this city are now. They continued to do a large business all through the war, and no firm was more respected than this. They were regarded as the beau ideal of safe, prompt merchants, and honored as high minded citizens. In 1816, when Philadelphia went through that terrible ordeal, when she was nearly ruined by the State of Kentucky, this French house, though it met with immense losses, stood firm.

Philadelphia had given long credits to merchants and traders in the State of Kentucky. In 1816 forty-two Kentucky banks failed, and every body went by the board. Millions were lost by merchants of Philadelphia, and those debts never have been paid. Brugiere & Teisseire went through it all safely, became very prosperous and very rich. Mr. Brugiere was a director in the old United States Bank, when the president of the renowned institution was Mr. Langdon Cheeves, of South Carolina.

In 1823, Brugiere & Teisseire, finding their importations must all come through New York, decided to establish a branch house here, under the style of "Charles Brugiere & Antony Teissiere." That year Charles Brugiere came here first, and opened a place of business at 55 Greenwich street.

Very soon the New York branch became far more important than the original house, and did twice the business, the facilities for doing an importing business being twice as great. In a few years their business became immense. Mr. Teissiere never came on here to live, but continued to reside in Philadelphia.

The year after the house was established in New York, they took a store at 174 Pearl street, and there they kept for years, having a very heavy assortment of French dry goods constantly on hand.

The residence of Mr. Brugiere was at No. 30 Broadway, and his house was famous for its elegant and hearty hospitality. Madame Brugiere was a queenly woman, and she received grandly. She had no superior in this city. Every foreigner who visited the city frequented her home. There are many who will remember with delight her superb receptions. She gave one to bring out the Senorita Garcia, afterward the celebrated Madame Malibran.

She gave, at her residence in Broadway, the first fancy ball ever given in the United States, and set everybody crazy. Up to that time nothing of the kind had been seen in any part of America. Her spacious apartments were crowded with the very elite of city society. Not only that-Philadelphia, Baltimore, Boston and Albany sent its loveliest flowers to grace the occasion. For months before and after every one spoke in raptures of the "Grand Fancy Ball" of Madame Brugiere.

From her house on the Bowling Green went out invitations on the most deliciously perfumed cards to the furthermost extremities of the city. The adjoining house was annexed for the night. The theatres were ransacked for dresses; milliners worked night and day to get up fancy dresses. When the night came off, company poured in for hours, and were welcomed by Madame Brugiere.

Among the guests that night was Mr. Charles King, who was at that time called "the Pink" of good society. I believe Major Noah gave Mr. King that nickname. Noah also added, on the occasion of this fancy-dress ball, that Mr. King went in the dress of a private gentleman, and nobody knew him in that disguise. He afterwards went out and returned three times, changing his dress and disguise each time, and the last time the band played "God Save the King."

A most extraordinary character is that Charles King. He is a son of Rufus King, who was a member of the old Continental Congress from Massachusetts, in 1786. He came to New York afterwards to live, and was sent minister to England from the United States, and was also a senator from New York to Washington. All of his sons were remarkable men. John A. has been governor of this State. James G. was once a merchant in England, a great banker in this city, and a member of Congress. Frederick was a physician, and lived at No. 4 Bowling Green. He died young. Not the least clever of this very clever family was Edward King, who went to Ohio. Had he lived he would have made, not, perhaps, a second Webster, but the name of Edward King would have been known as one of the most famed orators of any age. But not far behind any of his brothers, three of whom have each exercised a greater influence, in their day, and generation, than their father, was Charles King, who has been more abused than any other man in this century. He was a merchant, and formed one of the firm of Archibald Gracie & Sons, in 1808. He had married the old gentleman's daughter. Their store was on the corner of Bridge and Whitehall streets and is still standing. That firm continued until 1820. Mr. King was sent out to England after the war, by the President, and had something to do with the prisoners at Dartmoor. Major Noah hated him cordially, and frequently alluded to him in connection with the word "Dartmoor." Few would understand the application now. When Charles King was a director in the Bank of New York, Mr. Wilkes; the cashier, used to say he had the best financial head in the board.

As an editor he had no superior. He edited the New York American for many years, and had its financial matters been managed with half the cleverness given to the editorial department, it would have been alive now. For his second wife Mr. King married a daughter of the clever merchant, Nicholas Low, who lived near General Moreau, and has been so often alluded to in these chapters.

Mr. Charles King had several sons, but one especially named Charles, was a noble fellow. It is twenty-five years, or more, since my eyes looked upon him, but I did like him vastly: and I never heard how he was lost, though lost he was in the Pacific Ocean. Charley took to the sea, and rose to be captain. Now I will go back to the grand fancy ball of Madame Brugiere.

Everybody in New York spoke of this most splendid of splendid affairs. The elegance, the liberality, and the magnificence of the entertainment of Monsieur and Madame Brugiere were the theme of every tongue and the admiration of every heart.

The supper was luxurious, and never since surpassed. James W. Gerard, famous now as a clever, if not a remarkably handsome lawyer, was then a gay gallant. He was a regular visitor at the mansion of Madame Brugiére. So, too, was Mrs. John McGregor, wife of the McGregor, who was of the famous house of McGregor, Darling & Co. Mr. Gerard was the beau of Senorita Garcia (Madame Malibran,) and he paid her the most devoted attention.

Madame Brugiere was the mother of three of the most lovely daughters that ever lived in this or any other city of the world. They had no superior, either in beauty, education, grace or amiability. Eloise was the eldest, the next was Nathalie, and the youngest was Juliet.

The last was too pure and lovely a plant to live on this earth, and she was transferred to a different sphere in the very flower of her young life. She was an angel while she was here. Everybody loved her—every one who knew her admired her. When she died, and the brief notice announcing her death was sent to the office of The New York American, it caught the eye of Mr. Charles King. He added to it the following—"who never caused her parents grief but when she died." Mr. King knew the sweet girl well.

After her death the parents went to Europe, where they resided some time. Previous to this, however, they moved from 30 Broadway to 48 Bond street, then a very fashionable part of the town. They used to give private concerts. Everybody of note attended.

They went to Europe after Juliet's death, and resided in Paris, the commercial house doing a large business all the while in this city. In 1838, Charles Brugiere retured to this city. Shortly after he was taken sick suddenly, and died. Madame lived but a few years after. Mr. Teisseire, his partner, had died a few years previous.

I believe the two daughters are still living.

So well thought of was Mr. Brugiere in Philadelphia, when he was a director of the U. S. Bank, that the president, when Mr. B. removed to New York, wrote to Morris Robinson, who then controlled the United States Branch Bank in this city, to make Charles Brugiere a director. It was done.

Brugiere & Teisseire were regular importers of silks and all the French dry goods. If they did a business of half a million of dollars annually, thirty years ago, it was equal to four millions to-day.

In their day was the old packet-ship times, and they were constant buyers of French and English bills of exchange to remit to the parties of whom they made their purchases in France. Their credit was unquestioned, and they could have bought a million of dollars of bills of exchange on time, had they wished to do so.

It would be safe to say that there was one constant scene of domestic confidence and happiness between these two persons, Monsieur and Madame Brugiere, from the time of their marriage until the day of his death—a period of over thirty-five years.

They were remarkable for their attachment to each other, and their sympathy—both having apparently the same purposes in life, the same pleasure in society, and frequently the same idea. Eickholt, the painter, used to tell a story about them, illustrating this idea in a beautiful manner. On one occasion, Mr. Brugiere called upon the painter, a short time previous to New Year's Day. He ordered a painting, and sat several times for his likeness. He made it a condition, however, of strict secrecy. He wished no one to know of his intention. It was to have been painted, framed and placed in the parlor of his house on New Year's eve, so as to give Madame Brugiere an agreeable surprise the next morning. All was done as he wished. When the New Year's morning arrived, he asked his wife to go in the parlor. She did so. Both stared, for there were two portraits—his and her own. She had given the same order. Both charged the painter with betraying purposes that both had confided to him. He at last satisfied both that he had faithfully kept their secret.