At Fourteenth street we enter Union Square, once a fashionable place of residence, but now giving way to business houses and hotels. Broadway passes around it in a northwesterly direction. On the west side of Union Square, at the southwest corner of Fifteenth street, is the famous establishment of Tiffany & Co., an iron building, erected at an immense cost, and filled with the largest and finest collection of jewelry, articles of vertu, and works of art in America. In the middle of the block above, occupying the ground floor of Decker’s Piano Building, is Brentano’s, the “great literary headquarters” of New York.
Leaving Union Square behind us, we pass into Broadway again at Seventeenth street. On the west side, occupying the entire block from Eighteenth to Nineteenth streets, is a magnificent building of white marble used by a number of retail merchants. The upper end, comprising nearly one half of the block, is occupied by Arnold, Constable & Co., one of the most fashionable retail dry-goods houses. At the southwest corner of Twentieth street, is the magnificent iron retail dry-goods store of Lord & Taylor—perhaps the most popular house in the city with residents. The “show windows” of this house are always filled with a magnificent display of the finest goods, and attract crowds of gazers.
At Twenty-third street, Broadway crosses Fifth avenue obliquely, going toward the northwest. At the northwest corner of Twenty-third street, and extending to Twenty-fourth street, is the Fifth Avenue Hotel, built of white marble, one of the finest and handsomest buildings of its kind in the world. Just opposite is Madison Square, extending from Fifth to Madison avenues. The block from Twenty-fourth to Twenty-fifth streets is occupied by the Albemarle and Hoffman Houses, in the order named, both of white marble. Just opposite, at the junction of Broadway and Fifth avenue, is a handsome granite obelisk, with appropriate ornaments in bronze, erected to the memory of General W. J. Worth. Immediately beyond this is the Worth House, fronting on Broadway and Fifth avenue. The vicinity of Madison Square is the brightest, prettiest, and liveliest portion of the great city. At the southwest corner of Twenty-sixth street is the St. James’ Hotel, also of white marble, and just opposite is the “Stevens’ House,” an immense building constructed on the French plan of “flats,” and rented in suites of apartments. Between Twenty-seventh and Twenty-eighth streets, on the west side, is the Coleman House. At the southeast corner of Twenty-ninth street is the Sturtevant House. At the northeast corner of Twenty-ninth street is the Gilsey House, a magnificent structure of iron, painted white. Diagonally opposite is Wood’s Museum. At the southeast corner of Thirty-first street is the Grand Hotel, a handsome marble building. The only hotel of importance above this is the St. Cloud, at the southeast corner of Forty-second street.
At Thirty-fourth street, Broadway crosses Sixth avenue, and at Forty-fourth street it crosses Seventh avenue, still going in a northwesterly direction. It is but little improved above Thirty-fourth street, though it is believed the next few years will witness important changes in this quarter.
There are no street car tracks on Broadway below Fourteenth street, and in that section “stages,” or omnibuses, monopolize the public travel. Several hundreds of these traverse the street from the lower ferries as far as Twenty-third street, turning off at various points into the side streets and avenues.
Below Twenty-ninth street, and especially below Union Square, the street is built up magnificently. From Union Square to the Bowling Green, a distance of three miles, it is lined on each side with magnificent structures of marble, brown, Portland, and Ohio stones, granite, and iron. No street in the world surpasses it in the grandeur and variety of its architectural display. Some of the European cities contain short streets of greater beauty, and some of our American cities contain limited vistas as fine, but the great charm, the chief claim of Broadway to its fame, is the extent of its grand display. For three miles it presents an unbroken vista, and the surface is sufficiently undulating to enable one to command a view of the entire street from any point between Tenth street and the Bowling Green. Seen from one of the hotel balconies, the effect is very fine. The long line of the magnificent thoroughfare stretches away into the far distance. The street is thronged with a dense and rapidly moving mass of men, animals, and vehicles of every description. The effect is unbroken, but the different colors of the buildings give to it a variety that is startling and pleasing. In the morning the throng is all pouring one way—down town; and in the afternoon the tide flows in the opposite direction. Everybody is in a hurry at such times. Towards afternoon the crowd is more leisurely, for the promenaders and loungers are out. Then Broadway is in its glory.
Oftentimes the throng of vehicles is so dense that the streets are quickly “jammed.” Carriages, wagons, carts, omnibuses, and trucks are packed together in the most helpless confusion. At such times the police are quickly on hand, and take possession of the street. The scene is thrilling. A stranger feels sure that this struggling mass of horses and vehicles can never be made to resume their course in good order, without loss of life or limb to man or beast, or to both, and the shouts and oaths of the drivers fairly bewilder him. In a few minutes, however, he sees a squad of gigantic policemen dash into the throng of vehicles. They are masters of the situation, and wo to the driver who dares disobey their sharp and decisive commands. The shouts and curses cease, the vehicles move on one at a time in the routes assigned them, and soon the street is clear again, to be “blocked” afresh, perhaps, in a similar manner in less than an hour. Upwards of 20,000 vehicles daily traverse this great thoroughfare.
It is always a difficult matter for a pedestrian to cross the lower part of Broadway in the busy season. Ladies, old persons, and children find it impossible to do so without the aid of the police, whose duty it is to make a passage for them through the crowd of vehicles. A bridge was erected in 1866 at the corner of Fulton street, for the purpose of enabling pedestrians to pass over the heads of the throng in the streets. Few persons used it, however, except to witness the magnificent panorama of the street, and it was taken down.
Seen from the lofty spire of Trinity Church, the street presents a singular appearance. The perspective is closed by Grace Church, at Tenth street. The long lines of passers and carriages take distinct shapes, and seem like immense black bands moving slowly in opposite directions. The men seem like pigmies, and the horses like dogs. There is no confusion, however. The eye readily masses into