New York and the Pirates

When the English captured New Amsterdam, the heart of the British soldier was no doubt cheered and gladdened by the sight of the Sign of Saint George and the Dragon, which was boldly hung out in front of the house looking out on the river on the west side of the present Pearl Street just above Maiden Lane, kept by James Webb, from London. It was a stone house which had been built more than fifteen years before by Sander Leendertsen (Alexander Lindsay), upon the site of the present 211 Pearl Street. When in March, 1665, the citizens were called upon to state how many soldiers they could lodge, the entry is made in the records that “The Man of the Knight of St. George will take one,” which undoubtedly refers to the landlord of this house. Webb, in 1665, married Margaret Radel, a widow, and probably kept the house for some years. It was on the road leading to the Long Island ferry, a favorite location for taverns.

Although Colonel Nicolls, the first deputy Governor for his Royal Highness, James, Duke of York, is said to have filled his purse from the proceeds of land grants and by compelling the holders of old grants to pay him for confirmation, and to have been active in adding to his profits in many other ways, and, although he was given despotic power, yet his rule was characterized by so much leniency and moderation, compared with the paternal, though arbitrary, rule of Peter Stuyvesant, that he became as popular with the inhabitants as, under the circumstances, could be expected. When, at the end of four years, he solicited and obtained his recall, a grand dinner was given him at the house of Cornelis Steenwyck, one of the most prominent Dutch merchants of the city, and two militia companies, the Dutch officers of which had received their commissions from him, escorted him to the ship which was to bear him to England.

“THE MAN OF THE KNIGHT OF ST. GEORGE”

The English officials were naturally desirous of introducing English ways and customs. Moved by this spirit, Governor Nicolls, to encourage the English sport of horse-racing, established a race-course at Hempstead, Long Island, which was continued and kept up by his successors, who issued proclamations, directed to the justices, that races should be held in the month of May.

New York, when it came into the hands of the English, was thoroughly Dutch, and the Englishman was not pleased by the ways and customs of the Dutch in tavern life, so different from the English. In a tavern conducted in the Dutch way, where the landlord and all the attendants spoke the Dutch language, the government officials and the English officers did not feel that ease and comfort that they would in a truly English inn.

The prominent Dutch taverns continued to flourish, but in the course of time, there was a gradual change, produced by the English influence. The Dutch tavern keeper differed much from the inn-keeper of England, and the newcomers, assuming the airs of conquerors, accustomed to the warm welcome of an English inn, chafed under the restrains which they found or fancied, and many broils occurred between the landlords and their Dutch countrymen on one side and the English soldiers and sailors on the other.

Although previous to this time and some years subsequent, the records of public business transacted at taverns are numerous, for a long time after the English came into control, there is no indication that the taverns were thus much used by the English officials. The want of a tavern truly English, that would satisfy the officers of the government, may have been the cause which led Governor Lovelace to build, in 1672, on his own account, an inn or ordinary right next to the City Hall, and to ask the magistrates for permission to connect the upper story of the house with the City Hall by a door opening into the Court’s Chambers. The proposition was agreed to by the magistrates, leaving it to the governor to pay what he thought fit for “the vacant strooke of ground” lying between the buildings and “not to cut off the entrance into the prison doore or common gaol.”

This door connecting the City Hall and the tavern was meant to serve, in its way, a very useful purpose, but lacking reliable data in reference to the part it played in facilitating communication between the tavern taproom and the halls of justice, we leave each reader to supply the deficiency by his own opinions on the subject.

It was a uniform custom in the English colonies to make provision for the care of strangers and to regulate by law the taverns and the sale of strong drink. By the duke’s laws, which were enacted, or rather accepted, by representatives of the people at the Hempstead convention, in 1665, inn-keepers were not allowed to charge “above eight pence a meal with small beer,” and were required to always have on hand a supply of “strong and wholesome” malted liquor.

In January, 1676, it was ordered that “all persons who keep publick houses shall sell beere as well as wyn and other liquors and keep lodgings for strangers.” It was proposed to the governor by the mayor and aldermen that six houses be appointed to sell “all sorts of wine, brandy and rum and lodgings,” and eight to “sell beere, syder, mum and rum and to provide for strangers as the law directs,” that two of “the wine houses be ordinaryes, and four of the beere-houses.” Prices were fixed at which the tapsters should sell. French wines and Madeira were from one and three pence to two shillings per quart; brandy at six pence and rum at three pence per gill; beer and cider were three and four pence per quart. In the ordinary at the wine house the meal was one shilling and in that at the beer house it was eight pence; lodging at the wine house was four pence per night, and at the beer house it was three pence. Thus a sharp distinction was drawn between the two classes of houses and there was in all probability as great a difference in their keepers.

Broad Street had become a desirable place of residence and many citizens of the better class made it their home. The canal or ditch through the middle of it, from the present Exchange Place to the river, would never have been there if New York had not been originally a Dutch town. Across the canal, near the river, between the present Stone and Bridge Streets, was a bridge. This was a favorite lounging place for idlers, where, leaning over the railing of the bridge, they could watch the ebb and flow of the tide and the various small boats which went a little way up the canal to discharge their cargoes of oysters, fish and country produce brought over from Long Island or other nearby points. It was the center of probably more stir and activity than any other place in the little city. Here the merchants had become accustomed to meet for trade and the transaction of business of various kinds. This induced Governor Lovelace, March 24, 1669-70, to issue an order establishing a sort of business exchange. This order specified that the meeting of the merchants should be between the hours of eleven and twelve on Friday mornings, at present near the bridge, and the mayor was directed to take care that they should not be disturbed. The time of meeting and dispersing was to be announced by the ringing of a bell. It was the beginning of the merchants’ exchange. This continued to be the meeting place of the merchants, and near this spot a building called the Exchange was subsequently built.

Not far away, on the present northwesterly corner of Broad and Pearl Streets, stood the tavern of James Matthews, who, besides keeping a tavern, was a merchant and a man of considerable means. The meeting place for merchants being almost in front of his door his house was a very convenient place for them to retire to, to consummate their bargains over a social glass. In 1678 and in 1685 he was one of the farmers of the excise. He died in the latter part of the year 1685, or early in 1686, and his widow continued to keep the house for about two years, when she also died. The executors of her estate petitioned, in March, 1688, for an abatement of £20 excise money.

In September, 1676, Abraham Corbett, “driven with his family from his home eastward of New England,” petitioned for a license to distill strong liquors, which was granted him. He became a lieutenant in the militia in 1684; and was one of the farmers of the excise in 1688, which indicates that he was a man of respectability and deserving of public confidence. He was also a tavern keeper. When Samuel Leete, clerk of the Court of Mayor and Aldermen, and an Alderman of the city, died in 1679, he left to Abraham Corbett, “all my household goods in part payment of what I owe him for meat and drink.” By Governor Dongan’s Charter of 1686, Abraham Corbett was appointed an Assistant Alderman. In 1680 he purchased for sixty pounds sterling a house and lot on the east side of Broadway, two or three doors south of the present Exchange Place, and some years later on this lot he erected a fine tavern, which he called the “Royal Oak,” where he spent his declining years in its management. Considering the position which Corbett held in the esteem of the people there is no doubt that his house received the patronage of the best class of the community.

In these early days there were no parks, but the open country was near at hand with all the charms of nature. Just south of the present Trinity Churchyard was the Governor’s Garden. A large gateway led to it and to a charming spot—a piece of elevated ground covered with natural forest—called the “Locust Trees,” which was a resort for those who enjoyed the open air, where they could look out on the broad expanse of the Hudson. It was not then covered with that panorama of moving craft which it now presents. It was the same majestic river as now, but its surface was unbroken except by a lonely canoe or a small sail or two lazily drifting up or down the stream, with the green shores of Staten Island and Pavonia in the distance.

The road along the East River, beyond the “water gate,” had a number of dwellings on its upper side. On the way to the ferry a road joined it called the “Maadge poadge,” or Maiden Lane, and a little way further another, the present John Street, led up to Vandercliff’s Orchard, which is said to have been a place of public resort, owned and kept by Dirck Vandercliff, who was also a merchant, and in 1687 was an assistant alderman.

A singular incident occurred at this place in 1682. James Graham, who was an alderman of the city in 1681, recorder in 1683, and afterwards attorney-general, had, according to evidence, expressed a desire to make the acquaintance of Captain Baxter, an English officer recently arrived in the Province, and accordingly a party of several friends, including Graham and Baxter, met at the tavern of Dirck Vandercliff in “The Orchard,” to spend a social afternoon and evening. About nine o’clock, as the company was about to break up, Graham, after paying the reckoning, was called aside by Baxter, but not out of the sight of the company. Those present saw Baxter act as if to kiss Graham, when the latter called out that he had been stabbed. He had been struck with a knife under the collar bone, the wound being about four inches deep. Baxter was arrested and bound over to await his trial in case of Graham’s death, but the wound did not prove to be mortal.

On the hillside at the present Chatham Square, near the Collect or fresh water pond and the sparkling stream that fed it with the purest water on Manhattan Island, in a charming retreat, then considered far beyond the city wall, stood the tavern of Wolfert Webber, built in the time of the Dutch, and for a long time the farthest outlying dwelling on the eastern side. We find in the record that in 1655, a daughter of Wolfert Webber, tavernkeeper, had been returned to him from her captivity among the Indians. Notwithstanding the danger from attacks of the Indians, Webber continued to keep this house, and it was probably patronized by people who wished to enjoy the pleasures of the quiet and beautiful spot where it was located. In the marshes or swamps to the northwest, called the Kripple Bush, the sportsman could, in season, find woodcock in abundance, or he could enjoy the more gentle sport of angling in the Collect. Although the eastern side of the Collect was very attractive, the western side, at one time, was the residence of the very poorest class of people, and, on account of the stagnant water of the nearby swamps, considered very unhealthy.

When the Dutch were in possession of the city for the second time and called it New Orange, Wolfert Webber was made a magistrate for the Outside People, or those beyond the Fresh Water, and under the English he was appointed by the Dongan Charter of 1686 an assistant alderman. He represented the Out Ward as assistant Alderman in 1688, 1689, 1706 and 1707, and was still keeping the tavern at this same place. In April, 1715, “enjoying yet good health, but being ancient,” he made his will, and died a year or two after.

In 1660, on account of the repeated attacks of the Indians on the outside settlements, an order was issued requiring the abandonment of isolated habitations, and the gathering of the people in hamlets or villages for mutual protection. In response to this order there came a petition from those living beyond the fresh water stream asking that their houses might be permitted to remain, and that encouragement be held out to others to build near them so as to form a village. This request was granted and a village was established near the bowery of Governor Stuyvesant. A tavern, a blacksmith shop and a few other buildings formed the settlement to which was added shortly after a small church, erected by the governor on a part of his farm. To this farm or bowery Stuyvesant retired when the English had relieved him of the cares of office. The road leading to this village became known as the Bowery Road or Lane.

For a time this was the end of the road, but when the English came into possession of the city, they soon sought to open communication with the New England colonies by land and with the recently made settlement of New Harlem. A road was laid out which, in time, was extended through the whole length of the island to King’s Bridge, and became the highway of travel for all going to the north or east.

The tavern which had been set up at the village, as travel increased became known as the two-mile stopping place, and is said to have been a famous place of resort. Its situation was admirable, for the purpose, and it was, no doubt, visited by those making excursions of pleasure from the city, especially sleighing parties. At this time and for a great many years this was the only road of any great length on which such a sport could be enjoyed. For a long time the tavern was occupied by Adriaen Cornelissen, who was farmer and tavern-keeper. He was living here in 1674, when the Dutch for the second time were in possession of New Amsterdam, which they then called New Orange, and was appointed one of the schepens or magistrates for the outside people or those beyond the wall. Under the English rule he was Assistant Alderman in 1684 and in 1687. In 1689 he was made a captain of militia, his commission bearing date, December 16th of that year.

When, in 1690, commissioners came down from the New England colonies to confer with those of New York and deliberate on proper steps to be taken against the French and Indians, they declined to enter the city on account of the prevalence of small-pox, and Governor Leisler fixed upon this house as the place of meeting, describing it as a good, neat house, about two miles from the city, and kept by Captain Arian Cornelis. Here the commissioners met on the 1st of May, 1690.

A few years later the landlord of this tavern was John Clapp, the maker and publisher of the first almanac by a resident of New York City, which he says was “the product of my many spare Minnits.” It was not the first printed in New York, for Bradford had, for several years, printed Leed’s Almanac. Clapp claims to have been the first person in New York to set up a hackney coach, and announces in his almanac that “about two miles without the City of New York, at the place called the Bowery, any Gentlemen Travellers that are strangers to the City, may have very good Entertainment, for themselves and Horses, where there is also a Hackney Coach and good Saddle Horses to be hired.” He was a promoter of social festivities, which well became him as a genial landlord. In the Almanac, under June, is found the following:

“The 24th of this month is celebrated the Feast of St. John Baptist, in commemoration of which (and to keep up a happy union and lasting friendship by the sweet harmony of good society), a feast is held by the Johns of this city, at John Clapp’s in the Bowery, where any Gentleman whose Christian name is John may find a hearty wellcome to joyn in consort with his namesakes.” He notes that John Clapp’s in the Bowery, two miles from the postoffice, is generally the baiting place where gentlemen take leave of their Friends going on a long journey, “where a parting glass or two of generous Wine,

If well apply’d, makes the dull Horses feel,
One Spur i’ th’ Head is worth two in the heel.”