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Of recent years he had withdrawn from public life and devoted himself to the financial world. There he soon assumed a commanding position as bank president, and his organizing abilities were constantly in demand. He was one of Brooklyn's great men, and I regret that he is not here to-day to fill the position for which he was so well fitted.
There comes to mind also a little incident that will furnish an insight into the reason of it all. On an afternoon not long ago, Mrs. Henry Ward Beecher was telling me of some of the characteristics of Brooklyn's great preacher.
In the language of his inner man, it was a cinch. Below, in Kennard Street, a solitary musician plodded. His pretzel-shaped brass rested against his shoulder. He appeared to be the "scout" of one of those prevalent and melancholious German bands, which, under Brooklyn's easy ordinances, are privileged to draw echoes of the past writhing from their forgotten recesses.
In the latter country, since the termination of the war with the United States in 1848, there had been a constant succession of revolutions; and at the time of the Brooklyn's cruise there was established in Vera Cruz a constitutional party, at whose head was Benito Juarez, the lawful claimant of the presidency.
He had induced all the prominent clergymen in the country to contribute their views, and so distinguished was the list that the article created wide-spread attention. One of the contributors was the Reverend Richard S. Storrs, D.D., one of the most distinguished of Brooklyn's coterie of clergy of that day.
Brooklyn's place at the table of the board of estimate was a commanding one with Swanstrom and Grout in their seats, and to-day her representation there is equally good. Mr. Grout is still there. In the place of Mr. Swanstrom sits Mr.
I like Brooklyn's shapeless rotundity as contrasted with our abominable rectangular distances in Manhattan. I like it because it sprawls low against the ground instead of clawing up into the sky. Manhattan is solid with brick and steel from river to river. Brooklyn ambles on peacefully till it comes to a region of sand lots or a marsh or a creek, and stops.
The party of the second part was the Honorable William Linder. Mr., Linder sat at five P. m., of an early summer day, behind lock and bolt. The third floor front room of his ornate mansion on Brooklyn's Park Slope was dedicated to peaceful thought. Sprawled in a huge and softly upholstered chair at the window, he took his ease in his house.
So he ordered the flagship Hartford and her lashedtogether consort, the double-ender Metacomet, to use, the one her screw, the other her paddles, in opposite directions, till he had cleared the Brooklyn's stern. As he, drew clear and headed for the danger-channel a shoutwent up from the Brooklyn's deck "'ware torpedoes!" But Farragut, his mind made up, instantly roared back "Damn the torpedoes!"
J. B. Montgomery from the man-of-war Portsmouth on September 15, 1846, and who rejoined his ship the following February. One of the Brooklyn's passengers in later years became a leader in the settlement of Mesa, Arizona. He was Geo. W. Sirrine, a millwright, whose history has been preserved by a son, Warren L. Sirrine of Mesa.
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