It was pulled down, and they built red-brick houses on its grave and left its ancient memories to sleep in peace.
"And thus" [Wetmore once again] "passed away the glories and the shadows of Richmond Hill.

All that remains of them are a few fleeting memories and a page or two of history fast fading into oblivion." For once, I cannot quite agree with him--not when he says that.

For surely the home of so much romance and grandeur and charm and importance must leave something behind it other than a few fleeting memories and a page or two of history.

Houses have ghosts as well as people, and if ever there stood a house with a personality, that was sweet, poignant and indestructible, it was the House on Richmond Hill.
I, who tell you this, am very sure.

Have I not seen it sketched in bright, shadowy lines upon the air above Charlton and Varick streets,--its white columns shining through all the modern city murk?
Go there in the right mood and at the right moment, and you will see, too..