If Boston is, in fact, the Athens of America, the Boston Brahmins hover over our city like the gods of Greek mythology. Not only were they the ones responsible for molding Boston into a version of Athens in the first place, but their reputations are parallel: deities in history, enigmas in the modern day.

Rumors about the Brahmins’ influence in old and modern Boston are as plentiful as they are contradictory. Without a doubt, the Brahmins were (and, some believe, still are) the shadowy cabal that pulled the city’s strings from on high. Others say their wealth and power have dried up, that all they have left are their names and what’s left in their trust funds. Admirers retort that the Brahmins are this city’s caregivers, lovers of culture and education; detractors claim that they are elitist and provincial Boston royalty. What’s undisputed is that, despite their generations of wealth, the Brahmins were notoriously averse to the crass shows of wealth on display in places like Palm Beach or Newport. They are distinctly Boston creations, who actively shun glamour and attention in spite of their fortunes. …

The remaining Brahmins, comparatively relaxed by historical standards, closely guard their privacy, rarely ask that the hospital wings they pay for be named for them, and (believe us) do not rush to consent to interviews. As one Brahmin (who, of course, asked not to be named) put it: “My dear, a Brahmin should only be in the newspaper when he is born, when he marries, and when he dies.”