of R

ts to the most readily available streets in the City Plan. The flippant carelessness with which this apparent union has been effected only serves to emphasise the actual separation. In almost every case these ill-advised couplings are productive of anomalous disorder, which in the case of the numbered streets they openly

rvant, the author, so incongruous the notion of uniting the old and the new Greenwich harmoniously that she was close to giving the problem up in despair and writing her story of Greenwich Village in two books instead of one. But-whether accidentally or by inspiration, who knows?-three sovereign bonds became accidentally plain to her. May they be as plain to you who read-bonds between the Green Village of an older day and the Bohemian Village of this our own day, points that the old and the new settlements have in common-more-points that show the soul and spirit of the Village to

dred and fifty with equal accuracy in a few cases), "and each one of them has a history of its own, individually, as being one of

reserve them.... This is the great advantage and distinction of Washington Square and Greenwich Village and this is what

eenwich Village and Washington Square, and the public are

h so endearing to those who know it, the quality

p tripping you up. The point of view of the average mortal-out in the city-is that if you don't do exactly as everyone else does there's something the matter with you, morally or mentally. In the Village they leave you

voyages; that gave Thomas Paine his "seven serene months" before death came to him; that filled the grassy lanes with a mushroom business-life which had fled before the scourge of yellow fever; not so different from the refreshing ease of heart that came to Abi

illage better than John Reed. In reckless, scholarly rhyme he has imprisoned something

e who live in W

ink as uptown

hts with argume

r a dull old wo

he'll fashion so

't checker-board Greenwich. It was too independent and too set in its ways. It had its lanes and trails and cow-paths and nothing could induce it to become resigned to straight streets and measured avenues. It would not conform, and it never has conformed. And even more strenuously has its mental development defied the draughtsman's compass and triangle. Greenwich will not straighten its streets nor conventionalise its views. Its intellectual con

o well that his quotations can't be avoided, says: "In addition to being hopelessly

t, is it not worth a moment's pause to find out that the stately site of Washington Square North, as well as other adjacent and select territory, was originally the property of two visionary seamen; a

th picturesque results but by picturesque methods and through picturesque mediums. It is frankly, incurably romantic. Sir Peter Warren's estat

annah Skinner the second not then having arrived at age. In making the partition, the premises were divided into three parts on a survey made thereof and marked A, B and C; and it was agreed that such partition should be made by each of the trustees naming a person to throw dice for and in behalf of their respecti

rough, as a matter of fact, to this day. And by way of evening things up, Grace Church, which stands almost on the disputed site, had for architect one James Renwick, who married the only daughter

to women, friendliness to men, and courtesy to eve

s of imaginative chroniclers. You are safe if you believe all the quaint and romantic and inconsistent and impossible things that come to your knowledge concerning the Village. That is its special and sacred privilege: to be unexpected and always-yes, always without e

good. Who wants to study a city's life through the registries of its civic diseases or cures? We want its romances, its exceptions, its absurdities, its adventures. We not only want them, we must have them. Despite all the wiseacres on earth we care more for the duel that Burr and Hamilton fought than for all their individual achievements, good or bad. It is the theatrical change from the Potter's Field to the cen

to be feared at least once or twice too often ere this) and it is for

e, we can hardly fail to note that this particular element has ha

a most exclusive aristocratic quarter. Andrew Elliott was the son of Sir Gilbert Elliott, Lord Chief Justice, Clerk of Scotland. Andrew was Receiver General of the Province of New York under the Crown and a most loyal Royalist to the last. When the British rule passe

e property: "He must have had friends! Apparently

, bought it in; next it passed into the hands of one Friedrich Charles Hans Bruno, Baron Poelnitz, who appears to have been not much more than a figurehead. However, it was legally his property at the time of the adoption of the Constitu

most picturesque page

gs that so appeal to the colour-loving fancy. Not that privateering was quite the same as piracy, but it came so close a second that the honest rogues who plied the two trades must often have been in danger of getting

on s

privateering was often preferred to slower if safer sources of profit by the strong-stomached merchants and mariners of New York.... News that p

Amazone. In 1757 he took out the De Lancey, a brigantine, with fourteen guns, and made some more sensational captures. He is said to have plied a coastwise trade for the most part from New York to New Orleans, but, to quote Mr. Henry once more, "The Captain went wherever the Spanish flag covered the largest amount of gold." At all events he amassed a prodigious fortune even for a privateer. In 1758 he withdrew from active service himself, but still sent out privateering vessel

er scrupulous, allowed him especial license, the country being at war. Never was there a better

tation from

ing highly unfortunate if he had not a ves

. Quigley took the little schooner down the Jersey coast and stayed there. He never put out to sea at all. He rode comfortably at anchor near shore and when he ran out of rum put in and got mo

er. When Washington was rowed from Elizabethtown Point to the first inauguration, his barge was manned by a crew of thirte

during his stay in New York, and he who selected that unusual crew,-practically every noted shipmaster then in port. On the President's final departure for Mount Vernon, he again used

e. We do know that in 1775 his son, Robert Richard, was a youth of nineteen and a student at Columbia. This was the same year that the old Captain was serving on important committees and playing a conspicuous part in public affairs. Oh, yes! h

er all, there is not such a vast difference between the manner of Sir Peter Warren's gains and Cap'n Tom Randall's. You may call a thing by one name or by another, but, when it comes down to it, is the business of capturing enemy prize ships in order to grow rich on the proceeds so

reason to love him. One historian declares that he settled down, after retiring from the sea, and "became a respectable merchant at 10 Hanover Street," where he piled up more and more gold to leave his son Ro

Poelnitz, for the sum of five thousand pounds-a handsome property of some twenty-four acres covering the space between Fourth and Fifth avenues, Waverly Place and approximately Ninth Street. The Ellio

aged until 1828, and that, being sold at auction and removed at that date, its m

sea as a sailor. Indeed he would scarcely have been made an "honourary" member of the Marine Society had he been a real s

, he paid his father's calling what tr

t in the affair is traditional and legendary rather than a matter of official record;-certainly his name does not appear in connection wi

s on June 1, 1801. The dying man left a number of small bequests to friends, families and servants, before he came to the real business on his mind. His bequests, besides money, included, "unto Betsey Hart, my housekeeper, my gold sleeve buttons," and "unto Adam

He had a good deal of money; he wanted to leave it to some lasting use. Hamilton asked

get it?" asked t

ing!" declared Capta

e story goes, he w

money, so he never suffered when he was worn out, but all are not like that. I wan

left to found: "An Asylum or Marine Hospital, to be called 'The Sailors' Snu

ses, by the bye,

nds of information as the knee-buckles and so on, mentioned in the will, the artistic imagination of St. Gaudens evolved a veritable beau of a mariner, with knee-b

a simple and rather impressive inscription commemorating this charity w

the sailor inmates of this Snug Harbour on land could be grown on the premises. But the trustees decided to build the institution on Staten Island. The New York Washington Square property, however, is still called the Sailors' Snug Harbour Estate, and through its tremendous increase in value the actual asylum was benefited inca

he correspondence of Henry Brevoort and Washington Irving and others one gets delightful little pictures-vignettes, as it were-of social life of that day. Mr. Emmet writes begging for some snuff "no matter how old. It may be stale and flat but cannot be unprofitable!" Brevoort asks a friend to dine "On Thursday next at half-past four o'clock." He paints us a quaint sketch of "a lit

ul, when I hear of the millions amassed by the Vanderbilts, Goulds, Millses, Villards and others

st private carriage was almost mobbed on Broadway. Mrs. Jacob Little had "a v

Street-it is now occupied by the Charles de Rhams. And it chanced to be the scen

ing a specific claim on fashionable favour. So it came about that the fascinating innovation of the masked ball struck the fancy of fashionable New York. There was something very daring about the notion; it smacked of Latin skies and manners and suggested possibilities of romance both licensed and not which charmed the ladies, ev

s the same one, but he adds that it was generally pronounced "most successful." This one may doubt, since the results made masked balls so severe

all, February 24, 1840,-was "the most splendid social affai

else. It was incidentally the occasion of the first "society reporting." Attree, of the New York

and the expensive pleasures of the Eastern Hemisphere had been transplanted and taken firm root. Among other imported amusements was the masked ball, the first of which occu

e during the Crimean trouble. He had a daughter, Matilda, who was remarkably lovely and-if we may believe reports-a very great belle in American society. She had a

in attendance a gay, young Sou

not. She loved Burgwyne with a reciprocal ardour, and when the masked ball at the Brevoorts' came on the tapis it see

st lovers have favourite poe

ths and maidens of his day sighed and smiled over "Lalla Rookh" as over nothing that had yet been written for them. It is a delightful tale, half-prose and half-poetry, written entirely and whole-heartedly for lovers, and Burgwyne and M

ooking toward S

n. She wore floating gauzes, bracelets, "a small coronet of jewels" and "a rose-coloured, bridal veil." His dress was "simple, yet not without marks of costliness," with a "high

and danced together, a

e desert,

nts are rud

choice what h

love, or thr

e, for as the clock struck four they s

sing p

er at four o'clock in the morning,

oem-a love poem which was to them more enchanting-more miraculous-than that of Lalla Rookh and the K

ately named for the illustrious family over the way. The Brevoort House is certainly as histori

ork life visiting Englishmen inv

t has recently become knit into

er Artist's Colony. It is the Lafayette, or as many of its habitués still love to call it-"The Old Martin." This, the first and most famous French

of artistic life in New York. Bohemians, he declared, first foregathered there as Bohemians, and the beginnings of

he year before for a time and had decided the city needed a French hotel. He arrived on the 25th of June, and on the 26th he bought the hotel! He chose a house on University Place-No. 17-a l

o change the name of my place. 'Panama' gave people a bad impression. They associated it with fever and Spaniards, and neither were popul

Martin remembers "Bob" Chambers, and some young newspaper men from the World-Goddard, Manson and others. From uptown the great foreigners came down-some of them stayed there, indeed. In 1889, approximately, it started its biggest boom, and it went on steadily. Ask e

sman, Jules Cambon, used to come, and Maurice Grau-then the manager of the Metropolitan-and Chartran, the celebrated painter,

e, and certainly one worthy to for

cture of one car almost snowed under, for the snow was fully six feet deep. It was a Saturday night and very crowded. When it became time for the people to go home they could not go. So they had to stay, and they stayed three days. They slept on billiard tables, on th

tless Spaniards and Mexicans who patronised the hotel at that time) or whether because of a national and political misunderstanding, he was justifiably and seriously concerned as to t

s-but at that time there were few banners flying, and Mr. Martin led the patriotic movement with an American flag in every one of the fifty windows of the Hotel Martin and a Fren

d, if you have, you have undoubtedly seen or perhaps even played the "Lafayette Game." It is a weird little game that is played for

instinct is to get hold of it and bring it back. If I can I bring it back in actual bulk; if I were a writer I would bring it back in anoth

ittle balls from falling into the wrong holes. As it so often results in failure Culbuto is an ideal game to play

it may be. All Greenwich is beckoning to us, a few blocks away.

great-grandfathers. Like a wall it stands across the town separating the new from the old uncompromisingly. Miss Euphem

ear of which it was rumoured a bogy would be likely to pursue and kidnap us.... These shanties were followed by fine, brownstone reside

folk who live in the Fifties and Sixties and S