Ethiop (William J. Wilson) to Frederick Douglass, May 22, 1852
From Our Brooklyn Correspondent.
Dear Douglass:—Having fairly got Observer out of his observatory, and fully equiped, and mounted upon the MONEY HORSE, with lash in hand, and twirling over the head of poor Mr. Barry, and leading him over the same track that I did a few days ago, I can now well afford to turn my attention to another and more congenial direction at least for the present. Change and variety flit before me; lights and shades fill my picture; and for its higher perfection, I am much in the habit of making diurnal rambles about town and country; now perambulating the quiet street where dwell the lordly—now trudging the dark lanes and footed alleys where stay the down-cushed and lowly—now the busy thoroughfares of a commercial city - now the sequestered walks of the surrounding country. You would, my dear sir, laugh to see me. Now the dressed-up man stepping to the measured tread of city genetility, or marching to the music of city life; now with slouched hat, loose coat and coarse boots, which, by dint of pulling and hauling, are compelled to meet on friendly terms with my looser and coarser trowsers, (proto-type of the Long Island farmer,) testing my speed with the iron horse, as he goes snorting and prancing up by Bedford toward the deep, blue sea. But, sir, I am really in for a race; and now away, away we go, though I cannot say, with the poet, o'er hill and dale, since Long Island is the American race course, and we have no such diversification. But still away, away we go. By sundry puffings
and blowings and snortings, I find that the old fire horse is gaining breath, or I am losing it, and he is getting the better of me; so I acknowledge beat—give in and stop to admire the beautiful scenery around. A no less person than Cobbett has said that "Long Island is the garden of America," and truly it is. I need not, with Thompson, say,
Come, gentle spring,
Etherial mildness, come;
for she has burst upon us with all her vernal splendor, spreading her green carpet.
O'er all, save where hath trod the weary ploughman,
With furrough broad, and deep, and long.
and Long Island was never more beautiful. The trees have hung out with more than usual care, their annual signs, indicative of an abundant harvests: and the husbandman's heart gladdens at the thought, as he is adding his mite to the promised crop, by placing in the bosom of the earth his seed of various kinds. I could linger about the fields for hours, to witness these operations of the agriculturalists, and pluck, as I stray, the wild flowers fresh from my pathway; but approaching shades of evening admonish me to town, to again encounter dust, bustle, and confusion. So let me make the best of it, and if possible, profit thereby. Strong ARMS, steady HANDS, and generous HEARTS produce happy homes and cheerful hearth-stones.—With these, what may not Africo-America do? If she but put forth these with a vigor
and earnestness due to herself, what within the province of human aims may she not accomplish? With these, rightly wielded, she may face the combined base opposition of the land, and conquer it too. But our defective education leads us to both despise our own effots, and cripple our own hands, however properly put forth, when nothing short of a firm stand on our own footing is demanded. I am never more impressed with the force of these conclusions, than when in one of these rambles; especially the town portion of them, as I here and there stumble over thrifty little shops conducted by active and intelligent colored men; or stumble over here and there vacant spots where such shops might be conducted. The one seems a fresh and green spot: the other a barren waste; (and if not too extravagant the thought,) the one, the splendor of a meteoric glare; the other, the dark expanse of a starless sky.
Let me just here note down a little of what I saw in the town-end of this my wayward ramble, by way of proof. Pressing on, and scarcely caring whither, so long as the gentle zephyr fanned me full in the face, as that direction was Brooklyn-ward, I soon found myself jamming hard up against boxes, bales, carts, signs and sign-posts; in fine all the paraphanolic of a business thoroughfare.
I had brought up into Fulton Avenue, one of the great outlets of Brooklyn, and destined yet to become one of its leading business streets. Three years ago, lots in this street might have been purchased for three hundred dollars, now they cannot be, for three thousand. The same may be said of Myrtle Avenue, Hamilton Avenue, Atlantic and other leading streets. Such is the rapid rise of property on business thoroughfares, that I am fully persuaded that what few capitalists we have, have greatly erred, in not taking advantage of the infant condition of growing Towns by securing good business localities especially, not only as a source of profit to themselves, but as a great means of inducting Africo-America into the business world; for after all, it is the want of such good stations at fair rents and undisturbed, that mostly produce the sad wreck of our fortunes on the vast and turbulent business ocean. But here I am, in Fulton Avenue; and among others, I find one pleas-
ant spot; to me exceedingly so. It is a respectable clothing house conducted by a highly popular and gentlemanly colored man, with plenty to do. Connected with this house is a [ ] with license, the first I think obtained by any colored man in this city. May the example be followed by at least some dozen. Passing round the corner, I find what is, perhaps one of the most extensive sale stables, containing perhaps the best horses in the United States, owned and conducted by one who is without doubt the best dealer in the country; and that dealer a colored man. At some other time I shall give you, a full account of this gentleman, and his extensive opperations in his own peculiar line. Two or three blocks from this I found another colored gentleman quite extensively engaged in the same business.—Passing opposite the city Hall, I discovered a colored lady dealing from the counter of a smart looking shop the [...] to what I took to be limbs of the law after some hard and hot fight in the halls of justice.—From thence just in the next block where it is said the best chop is served up, I popped in and saw many hungry white customers and much stir and bustle among the colored proprietor and his [testy] cooks.
From thence just round the corner in Myrtle Avenue, I found another respectable clothing shop and gentlemanly proprietor full of business. Sweeping Myrtle to Hudson Avenue I found in the latter, quite a clever dry-good store, behind the counter of which was the gentlemanly proprietor, lady, son, and daughter; and though colored all,
and customers white; full and busy. This gentleman owns his store, and that of his next door white neighbor; and counts his some six or eight house be[h]olden.
Taking a circuit towards the "Heights," I missed Fulton street, (which I intend to visit some day,) but, fetched up into Atlantic street; coursing downward towards the Ferry with the multitude I crossed another extensive clothing house; and had I not known that the proprietors were colored, I certainly believe I should have doubted my own eyes. Such activity, such promptness, such business like air and tact is rarely found in any one House, certainly not in Atlantic street; and with all such a crowd of eager customers. More than one white man extensively engaged in business has stepped in this house for consultation and advise, and gone out profiting thereby. In fact, the best business man in the street is at the head of this establishment.
Next door to this, number fifty-eight I think, I found a very respectable little business conducted entirely by a female. Truly, thought I, as I retired to my lodging, these are beginnings not to be despised; if encouraged and fostered they will grow to great results; yet but Oasis, they may with care and attention, flourish and spread over the whole surface. May I not be disappointed.
Yours truly,
Ethiop.
Brooklyn Heights, May 22, 1852.