Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1889-03-31
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rphflsdsiphia Times.l

s2o0. O00. and was thirty-fve years old,
and the richest young merchant III
Philadelphia, who had made his money
by his own cfertions. In those days ne
was a social lion. He had a wide circle
OF acquaintsnces, and had the entree
into the select society OF tho town.
He attended the assemblies, fashionable
balls and theatres, and was quite bead
He spent money literally upon his dress
and was not inclined to be charitable 81
that time. He took notion that ne
would like to see the world and TOOK
passage on packet-ship for England;
lie remained abroad for two years and
visited the principal countries Of Eu-
rope, including Russia He returned 70
Philadelphia, intending to remain about
six months and then go abroad again.
but he got interested in some invest,
ments. He began to speculate in coal
lands in Pennsylvania and IN otner
solid securities and was very successful
In less than ten years after bis return
from Europe the then farmers boy oil
Bucks county was one OF the four MIL
lionaires in Philadelphia. lie became
enerossed in money-msking entirely,
and withdrew gradually from the social
pleasures which had formerly been his
delight The dead millionaire, whose
fortune is estimated ut from twelve TO
fifteen million dollars, never married.
For many years he seldom visited his
relatives. After he had made million
bis life began to change. and lie had no
time for anything except money-makins.
The DAYS and nights were not long
enough for him. Mr.. Williamson began
TO be careless OF his dress, and his head
became white with age and care, and he
developed into q character and became
very penurious
Whether there was ever love affair
IN his life is not known. Until he was
forty years Of age no sought the society
of women in q social way. In ms
younger years dancing was great
hobby with him. He was one of the
best dancers that ever appeared at Sara
toga. where he went every summer for
several years. He frequently led tho
grand march at the hops at the fashion
able hotels. He learned dancing from
tho best masters of Philadelphia. Be-
fore the change came IN his life he was
never known to lose his temper He
was always affsble. obliging, and polite (;
fond of good story, a good laugh, and
q good dinner. He never kept house,
although he was one of the most exten-
sive owners OF city dwellings in tho tax
list. He passed his life in boarding
houses and hotels until he was assallsd
with feebleness last fall. when he went
10 beard with his niece, Mrs. Denekla.
For msny years he walked wherever
he went to save car-fare and back-hire.
While be was giving largely to charity
he was practicing an economy that in
most men would have been said to have
approached meanness. 1t is related of
HIM that few years ago he had room
in an upper story Of house on Chestnut
street near Nineteenth. He discovered
that others we're paying less money for
the same privileges He said nothing,
but he packed his trunk and, like Long
fellows Arab, stole silently away.
He afterwsrd INDUCED in the
luxury OF summer boarding at Bryn
Mawr. A coach piled between the
railroad station and the hotel MIR.
Williamson used it for week.
Then bill was presented to him for
coach fare at the rate Of ten cents a ride.
The old man glanced at the bill in mild
surprise. He paid it without word Of
expostulation. The next day the driver
of the coach bowed obsequiously aad
flung open his door as soon as the bent
form of his millionaire customer slighted
from the train. 1t was raining at the
time. Mr. Williamson raised his blue
cotton umbrella, from which he was
never separated. and, without even a
glance OF recognition at the astonished
coachman, trudged on up the muddy
road to the hotel.
In the memory OF the Oldest inhabi-
taat Mr.. Williamson never appeared in q
new suit of clothes. Generations of
bankers on Third street were accustomed
to see little, thin. bent, stability
dressed figure making his way painfully
along the financial thoroughfare with
eyes seeking the ground and hands be-
hind the back clutching the blue-cotton
umbrella.
A second-class tailor who had shop
on one of the alleys bisecting Third
street, repaired and cleaned Mr. William
sons suit Of clothes. With him the di-
rector OF 4 dozen powerful institutions
and the possessor of millions of securi-
ties would haggle for a quarter of an
hour over the charge OF repairing coat
lining.
In his later years Mr.. Williamson suf-
fered so much from corns that he found
himself compelled either to give up
pedal locomotion or to submit to an ope-
ration at the hands OF a chiropodist. On
the Recommendation Of the officers of
the Girard Bank ho called upon Chiro-
podist Goldberg. who had an Office on
Chestnut street, and submitted to the
exclsion. When Goldberg presented his
bill Mr.. Williamson paid it willingly and
remarked
"You are the only man who ever gave
me the worth OF my money"
Mr.. williamson never missed day at
his Office. which was for many years To-
Gated at 30 Bank street. lie went there
rain OF shine, in summer and winter.
Early in last year, when his in6rmites
began to tell upon him, he was reluc-
family compelled to provide himself with
n horse and carriage and a coachman.
lie bought Il plain one-horse carriage
and very tame horse, end surprised his
acquaintance by placing upon the pan
els Of tho carriage, Il. V. Williamson,
private. "
For years and years he was shaved in
Blanks barber shop on Elbow lane.
Barber Blank, in speaking of his million
aire customer, said
lie was generally the last customer
of the day to come in, and no matter
how hot the day might be he would in
sist upon having all the doors and win
dows shut tight. / believe he would
have even stopped up the key-hole, so
great was his dislike and fear Of q
draught. While being shaved Mr.. Viii
hanson never talked, nor did he en-
courage it in his barber. He was never
guilty during the eight years that he
patronized my shop of haircut. His
niece he told me. ALWAYS cut his hair.