The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1885-12-24
OUR NEW YORK LETTER.
Hm our Regular Cmrepm,dcnt.]

New YORK, Dec. %, 1885.
If an earthquake had levelled the
Grand Central Depot, or a cyclone had
swept over New York, or lightning
bolt had laid the City Hall in ruins-the
shock could not have been more complete
for the instant, than the sensation caused
by the announcement that William II.
Vanderbilt was dead; not that he was a
great mana warrior, a statesman, or a
literature, but simply that he represented
monied interests more vast thar any 9th
er man known to history among the
living or the dead. Not Cre,us or
Midas, nor any single member of the
Rothschild family ever held such vast
possessions; never before in the history
of man was such a fortune accumulated
without special financial ability in a
single life. The Rothschilds were
hnanciers for generations. The race
from which they sprang had for ages
governed the finances of the world.
Great wealth, unquestioned integrity,
immense opportunities and unlimited
experience, had placed them in posi-
tion where the representatives of kings
waited humbly in their antorooms for
favors.
But there is nothing in recorded history
like the case OF William II. Vanderbilt.
At forty he was farmer and not par.
ticularly good one, and at fifty he stood
the representative Of one Of tho greatest
fortunes of ancient or modern times.
His father had method in his madness,
and left to his eldest son, William H.,
not only The bulk Of his immense posses.
sions, but such we'll ordered machine,
that the engineer had only to sit down
and it seemed 10 run by its own volition.
The mere accretion of such COLOSSAL
fortune in few years was bound to make
the owner of it, the richest man of the
age. Commodore Vanderbilt left Il for
tune roughly estimated at one hundred
millions, and it is safe to say that this
immense fortune has doubled in the last
ten years.
1t would hardly be safe to estimate the
character of the dead millionaire by the
report of his brothers and sisters, but if
we measure him by what lie has done
according to his splendid opportunities,
he simply falls into line with the Stew
arts, the Garrisons, the Hoyts, the Sages
and the Goulds, who made money and
kept it. For what he had he deserves no
credit; for the use he made of what he
deserves no credit. A. mature manhood,
suddenly and almost unlocked for he
found himself in possession of the income
of hundred millions, and as he had
never been reared to expensive tastes he
found it impossible to spend it. He sell
dom appeared to Look outside Of himself
or his family in the expending Of his
fortune; and, if he ever INDUCED in
charity, he obeyed the scriptural injunc-
ton, and never let his right hand know
what his left hand did, and if the right
hand found it out, it has religiously kept
the secret, for not living soul ever heard
a word about it. We knew how much
his pictures cost; we had invoices of
every article of his furniture; we knew
what it cost to build his big house, to
fresco the walls; and We even heard the
cost Of the phenomenal paving stone
opposite his front door; ne knew how
much he paid Messonier, Munkasey,
Rosa Bonheaur and Hans Harkart; the
price he paid for Maud S, and also what
he sold her for 10 Bonner; we also know
that he paid the expenses of getting the
obelisk from Alexandria to New York
and that he gave $4,000 for an hospital.
There may have been other benefactions,
but they never seemed 10 reach the poor
directly. His income must have been
from ten to fifteen millions annually, and
three or four millions of thi. could have
saved thousands from suffering the pangs
of want. The money that it cost to
brink the obelisk from Alexandria would
have built block of model houses for
the poor, that could have been leased for
moderate rent, comforting untold bless
ings on thousands. The shock Of his
death was only momentary. The abso-
Lutte certainty that his immense wealth
would fall into hands as good, if not
better than his own, restored confidence
at once, and the dead millionaire goes to
join the great majority. There is nothing
that calls for special notice about the
man except his money, stripped of that
there is nothing left 10 speak of. How
different the case of Horace B. Clafln
whose death recorded three weeks ago.
When he died wall went up from the
poor. The widow and the orphan whom
be had succored ir their distress mourncd
for him. The blessings of The bankrupt
merchants whom he had saved from ruin
followed him to his grave. The Wall
Street gamblers were not disturbed or
shaken, for he knew them not, nor they
him, but his employees wept like chill.
dren who had suddenly lost father;
and they had, for he had been more than
q father to them. There are various
kinds Of charities: MIR. Stewart left
Judge Hilton million, and Judge Hill.
ton was worth three millions before he
received the Stewart bequest. Mrs. Astor
never gave the city an obelisk, but she
has fed and clothed hundreds of poor
ragged boys and girls, and perhaps when
the balance sheet is struck, when she
reaches the Pearly Gates the benedictions
of these ragged unkempt waits may
count as much as $500, 900 hospital or
an Egyptian obelisk. And so one by one
these magnates pass away. a few days,