Nassau street, but as a rule he must examine his purchase closely before paying for it, and be sure he receives what he has selected. The variety of the pursuits carried on here may be ascertained only by a diligent perusal of the signs that line the street. Perhaps in no other thoroughfare is there to be seen such a multitude of signs. The fronts of the houses are covered with them. They appear in nearly every window, and the walls of the halls of the buildings, and even the steps themselves are covered with them. Every device of the sign maker has been exhausted here, and they tell their stories with more or less emphasis, according to the ingenuity exercised upon them. They tell you of “Counsellors at Law,” Publishers, Artists, Dealers in Foreign and American Engravings, Jewellers, Engravers on Wood and Steel, Printers, Stock Brokers, Gold Beaters, Restaurant Keepers, Dealers in Cheap Watches, Agents of Literary Bureaux, Translators of Foreign Languages, Fruit Sellers, Boarding House Brokers, Matrimonial Agents, Book Sellers, Dealers in Indecent Publications, and a host of others too numerous to mention.
Go into one of the numerous buildings, and a surprise awaits you. You might spend half a day in exploring it. It rivals the Tower of Babel in height, and is alive with little closets called “offices.” How people doing business here are ever found by those having dealings with them is a mystery. Many, indeed, come here to avoid being found, for Nassau street is the headquarters of those who carry on their business by circulars, and under assumed names. It is a good hiding place, and one in which a culprit might safely defy the far-reaching arm of Justice.
Along the street, and mostly in the cellars, cluster the “Old Book Stores” of New York, of which I shall have more to say hereafter, and they add not a little to the singular character of the street. The proprietors are generally men who have been here for years, and who know the locality well. Many curious tales could they tell of their cramped and dingy thoroughfare, tales that in vivid interest and dramatic force would set up half a dozen novelists.
The Post-office draws all sorts of people into the street, and it is interesting to watch them as they come and go. But, as has been said, no one stays here long; no one thinks of lounging in Nassau street. Every one goes at the top of his speed, and bumps and thumps are given and taken with a coolness and patience known only to the New Yorker. You may even knock a man off his legs, and send him rolling into the gutter, and he will smile, pick himself up again, and think no more of the matter. On Broadway the same man would not fail to resent such an assault as an intentional insult. Every one here is full of unrest; every one seems pre-occupied with his own affairs, and totally oblivious to all that is passing around him. In no part of the great city are you so fully impressed with the shortness and value of time. Even in the eating houses, where the denizens of the street seek their noontide meal, you see the same haste that is manifest on the street. The waiters seem terribly agitated and excited, they fairly fly to do your bidding, pushing and bumping each other with a force that often sends their loads of dishes clattering to the floor. The man at the desk can hardly count your change fast enough. The guests bolt their food, gulp their liquors, and dart through the green baize doors as if their lives depended upon their speed.
So all day long they pour in and out of the marble banks, in and out of the great Post-office, in and out of the dingy offices—the good and the bad, the rich and the poor, the honest dealer and the sharper. Few know their neighbors here, fewer care for them; and gigantic successes and dreary failures find their way into the street, adding year by year to its romance and to its mystery. At night the street is dark and deserted. Yet away up in some of the lofty buildings, the lights shining through the dingy windows tell you that some busy brain is still scheming and struggling—whether honestly or dishonestly, who can tell?
XXX. THE METROPOLITAN FIRE DEPARTMENT.
The history of New York has been marked by a series of terrible fires, which have destroyed many lives and swept away millions of dollars worth of property. In 1741 the first of these conflagrations swept over the lower part of the city, consuming many houses, among them the old Dutch fort and church. On the 21st of September, 1776, during the occupation of the city by the British, 493 houses were burned, and great distress entailed in consequence upon the people. On the 9th of August, 1778, a third fire destroyed nearly 300 buildings east of Broadway and below Pearl street. In May, 1811, a fourth fire broke out in Chatham street and consumed nearly 100 houses. In 1828 a fifth fire destroyed about a million of dollars worth of property. On the 16th of December, 1835, began the sixth and most disastrous of these conflagrations. It raged for three days and nights continuously, swept over an area of 45 acres, destroyed 648 buildings, and entailed upon the citizens a loss of $18,000,000. In the face of this great disaster the insurance companies unanimously suspended. On the 19th of July, 1845, the seventh and last fire broke out in New street, near Wall street, and swept in a southerly direction, destroying 345 buildings. The loss was $5,000,000.
As a matter of course, a city that has suffered so much from fires is in especial need of the best known means of preventing and suppressing them. Since the year 1653 there has been a Fire Department in New York, and it would be an interesting task to review its history had we the space to do so. In its early days it was considered an honor to be a member of a fire company, and some of the best of the old-time citizens were to be
found in the ranks of the various organizations. The city took care to keep the force provided with the most improved machines, and every effort was made to render it as efficient as possible. As the city increased in wealth and population the character of the firemen changed. The respectable men left the organization, and their places were filled with men who were drawn into it by the excitement which was to be found in such a life. Soon the department passed entirely into the hands of the Bowery boys and other disreputable characters. The engine houses were rallying places for the worst characters of the vicinity, who amused themselves in their leisure hours by fighting among themselves, or by assaulting respectable passers-by. A fire was the dread of the city, not only for the damage the conflagration was sure to do, but for the disturbance it brought about on the streets. As soon as an alarm was sounded the streets were filled with a yelling, reckless crowd, through which the engines and hose-carriages dashed, regardless of those who were run over. Pandemonium seemed to have broken loose and taken possession of the great thoroughfares. If two rival companies met on the streets they would leave the fire to work its will and fight their battle then and there. There was scarcely a fire without its accompanying riot. The fires themselves were disastrous. Very little good was accomplished by the firemen, and the losses were tremendous. Adjoining buildings were often broken open and robbed under pretence of saving them from the flames. In short, the whole department was a nuisance, and thinking men saw that it was a great nursery of criminals and blackguards. Efforts were made to remedy the evil, but without success. The members of the department were volunteers, and were particularly impatient of control. Many of the companies owned their own engines and other apparatus, and refused to submit to any sort of restraint. There was but one way to bring good out of this evil, and at length the best men of the city determined upon abolishing the old system entirely. The demand for a change grew stronger every day, and at last the Legislature of the State set on foot measures for the abolition of the volunteer system and the substitution of a paid force.
In March, 1865, the Legislature passed the bill creating the Metropolitan Fire Department, and it at once received the Executive signature. The friends of the old system resolved to resist the attempt to overthrow it. A case involving the constitutionality of the bill was brought before the Court of Appeals, which body sustained the law. Efforts were made by the newly-appointed Commissioners to get the new system at work as soon as possible; but in the meanwhile the partizans of the old system endeavored to be revenged by disbanding the old force and leaving the city without any means of extinguishing fires. The danger was great, but it was averted by detailing a force from the police to act as firemen in case of necessity. By November, 1865, the new system was thoroughly organized and fairly at work. Each succeeding year has witnessed some fresh improvement, and at present New York has the best appointed and most efficient Fire Department in the Union.