beyond Fiftieth Street. To
be married or buried within Grace Church's walls was considered the
height of felicity. It was Brown who passed on worthiness in life or
death. He arranged the parties, engineered the bridals, conducted the
funerals. The Lenten season is a horribly dull season, but we manage to
make our funerals as entertaining as possible"--Brown said, according to
the quoted story. Without Brown no Fifth Avenue function was complete.
"A fashionable lady, about to have a fashionable gathering at her house,
orders her meats from the butcher, her supplies from the grocer, her
cakes and ices from the confectioner; but her invitations she puts in
the hands of Brown. He knows whom to invite and whom to omit. He knows
who will come, who will not come, but will send regrets. In case of a
pinch, he can fill up the list with young men, picked up about town, in
black swallow-tailed coats, white vests, and white cravats, who, in
consideration of a fine supper and a dance, will allow themselves to be
passed off as the sons of distinguished New Yorkers. The city has any
quantity of ragged noblemen, seedy lords from Germany, Hungarian Barons
out at the elbow, members of the European aristocracy who left their
country for their country's good, who can be served up in proper
proportions at a fashionable party when the occasion demands it. No man
knows their haunts better than Brown."

Here is a picture of the famous Brown, drawn by the same pen:

"Brown is a huge fellow, coarse in his features, resembling a
dressed up carman. His face is very red, and on Sundays he
passes up and down the aisles of Grace Church with a peculiar
swagger. He bows strangers into a pew, when he deigns to give
them a seat, with a majestic and patronizing air designed to
impress them with a relishing sense of the obligation he has
conferred upon them."

Later Peter Marie wrote the poem, "Brown of Grace Church," beginning:

"O glorious Brown! thou medley strange,
Of church-yard, ball-room, saint and sinner,
Flying in morn through fashion's range,
And burying mortals after dinner,
Walking one day with invitations,
Passing the next with consecrations."

This is the eloquent story of Mr. and Mrs. Newly-Rich who did not seek
the social chaperonage of the all-powerful Brown. He had been a
reputable and successful hatter. She had made vests for a fashionable
tailor. By a turn of fortune they