The Merchants’ Coffee House

Trade had extended its territory along the East River shore until about the beginning of the eighteenth century it had reached and taken in Wall Street. In 1709 the first slave market was erected at the foot of this street, on the site of the Half Moon Battery and block house of the Dutch era, and for many years continued to be the established place where slaves were offered for sale and “stood for hire.” A market house had been built, and in January, 1726-7, it was ordained by the common council of the city of New York that the market house at the lower end of Wall Street be appointed a public market for the sale of all sorts of corn, grain and meal, and a penalty was fixed for selling such in any public market elsewhere. From this time it was known as the Meal Market.

In the course of time several taverns had been opened in the neighborhood of the market, and it had become the center of considerable business. In 1726 the only newspaper in New York gave notice of servants to be sold by John Dunks at the sign of the Jamaica Pilot Boat, on the Dock. In 1750 the following appeared in the New York Gazette or Weekly Post Boy: “Just imported, a parcel of likely negros, to be sold at public vendue to-morrow at Ten o’clock at the Merchants’ Coffee House.”

The tavern at the sign of the Jamaica Pilot Boat stood on the northwest corner of the present Wall and Water Streets, then Wall and Burnet Streets. Francis Child, a wigmaker, owned it and advertised it for sale in 1736 and 1737, when he described it as the corner house near the Meal Market, “a well frequented tavern for several years past” and in good repair.

Daniel Bloom, mariner, who as captain of the Turtle Dove had met with a very unfortunate experience in the West Indies, his brig and all on board being stript of everything even to the clothing they wore, and who had lately arrived rived in New York, purchased the house and lot, in June, 1738, the consideration mentioned in the deed being five hundred pounds (£500). Bloom was landlord of the house for more than a dozen years. While living here he, in December, 1747, took the lease of the ferry between the city and Nassau (Long) Island for the term of five years, for which he agreed to pay the sum of four hundred and fifty-five pounds (£455) per annum, to be paid in quarterly installments, and the common council ordered that the neighborhood of the Meal Market have leave, at their own expense, to make and erect a dock and stairs, for the convenience of the ferry boat which was to land there, in such manner as shall be directed by the committee appointed for that purpose. Bloom ran the ferry for about three years, when, in September, 1750, by permission of the common council, he transferred the lease to Andrew Ramsay, who at this time was the landlord of the Exchange Coffee House, from which he moved to the ferry house on the Long Island side of the river. Soon after this Bloom died. At the time of his death he was still indebted to the city for a portion of the rent of the ferry, and the corporation, in June, 1751, offered to take from the executors of his estate fifty pounds (£50) in settlement of all arrears due.

Long before Daniel Bloom purchased the house that hung out the sign of the Jamaica Pilot Boat, it had been kept by John Dunks. Bloom did not retain the sign, for we find that a few years later, it was used by the widow of John Dunks, who kept a house a little further up near the Fly Market. Bloom had seen considerable of the world, and appears to have been a man of some property, owning real estate in the city and in Westchester County. He probably had an acquaintance among the merchants, as sea captains generally had, and was able to make his house a resort for them. He called it the Merchants’ Coffee House, and he was no doubt the first landlord of the house by that name, which, for more than half a century, was one of the most prominent houses of the city. As its name implies, it gradually became the place where the merchants of the city met and transacted business, and it became also the place where auctions, or vendues, as they were called, were held, especially such as were connected with the shipping business. The year after Bloom’s death, its landlord was Captain James Ackland.

The price paid for the lease of the ferry indicates that there must have been considerable travel over it and that the house at the landing place should have been a profitable one. On the next corner below, on Burnet’s Key and Wall Street Slip, was the tavern of Widow Susannah Lawrence, which at one time was called the Red Lion, and on the opposite side of Wall Street stood, in 1735, St. George and the Dragon, which in 1750 was occupied by Thomas Leppers, from London, who hung out the sign of the Duke of Cumberland. He had succeeded George Burns, who became prominent as a tavern-keeper and was in turn the landlord of many well known houses. In May, 1750, announcement was made that “Thomas Leppers, living at the sign of the Duke of Cumberland, opposite the Merchants’ Coffee House, proposes to open an Ordinary To-morrow, Dinner will be ready at half an Hour after One,” and a few days later he gave notice that “Whereas, I have often heard Gentlemen Strangers and single Gentlemen of this City wish for a Regular Ordinary and since my removal to the Duke of Cumberland, opposite the Merchants’ Coffee House, I have been frequently advised by Gentlemen my friends to keep one. These are to give Notice That I began to do so on Tuesday last, which shall be continued every Day. Dinner shall be ready at One o’clock. Per Thomas Leppers from London.”

In August, 1750, this house was the scene of a disturbance which must have caused much talk in the town, as an account of the affair occupies a whole page in one of the issues of the New York Gazette Revived in the Weekly Post Boy, a very unusual attention given any local news. It was claimed that the article had been written by spectators of the affair to set to right reports that were current in the town. On Tuesday evening, the 28th of August, several persons met as a club at Leppers’ tavern, and one or two of the company, signifying a desire to have Mr. James Porterfield join them, one of the members went out and in a short time returned and introduced him to the company, who, it seems, were mostly physicians or interested in that profession. After supper he begged the attention of the club, and stated that he had received many civilities from the gentlemen of the club, for which he returned them thanks; but a friend had told him that having lately asked a member if Mr. Porterfield were admitted to it, the answer was, that he was not, and that his loquacity was the cause of it. He said that he submitted to the judgment of the club whether he had ever behaved in such a manner at the club as to deserve that reflection. The members of the club declined to pass judgment upon the question, stating that as he was not a member, it would be to no purpose to give any judgment about it, since if they thought him too talkative it was not in their power to prevent it as his conduct could not be regulated by any of their rules. Notwithstanding this definite answer, he still persisted in claiming a judgment whether he was faulty in being too talkative or not. The members of the club maintained their first position and begged him not to insist any further, as he was defeating the original intention of the meeting. He became violent, but was prevailed at length to be quiet while a paper was being read by one of the members. He seems to have worked himself up to a high state of resentment for he sneered and interrupted the reading, and after it was finished became so uncontrollable and insulting that he was threatened with expulsion. He then threw his glove upon the table as a challenge, and although no other person was armed, drew his sword. At this point the member, who had threatened to turn him out, took up the glove and threw it in his face, and being seated at the opposite side of a long table went round to him, and, with the assistance of some of the other members, disarmed him and broke his sword. They forced him to the door, but he used his cane, which was also broken by the company, who now went to another room, leaving him alone. He went down stairs and on his way out told Mr. Loppers that he would get another sword and return and run some of the members upstairs through the body, but Mr. Loppers told him that he could not again enter his house that night. He thereupon seated himself at the door with the stump of his sword in his hand waiting for revenge, but was induced by the member of the club who had introduced him to retire to his lodgings.

This was not the end, for the next evening Mr. Porterfield came down to the Merchants’ Coffee House, and at sight of Doctor Ayscough, drew his sword and shook it at the Doctor, who stood in the door, calling him villain and scoundrel and challenging him to fight. After some abuse of this kind Doctor Ayscough seized a cane from a bystander and struck Porterfield on the head, who immediately rushed towards him and made a pass at him. Doctor Ayscough, in retreating, fell down and Porterfield, thinking that he had pricked him, very quickly and prudently disappeared, as the resentment of the spectators was apparent. Doctor Ayscough was not injured.

It seems to have been quite usual at this period for men of like tastes and inclinations to form themselves into clubs. A writer, describing New York and its people in 1756, states that, “New York is one of the most social places on the continent. The men collect themselves into weekly evening clubs. The ladies, in winter, are frequently entertained either at concerts of music or assemblies, and make a very good appearance.” The clubs, as well as the assemblies for dancing, were held at the taverns. The first club in the colony of New York, of which we have any knowledge, was formed at the instance of Governor Lovelace, in the winter of 1668-69, composed of ten French and Dutch and six English families, to meet at each other’s houses twice a week in winter and once a week in summer, from six to nine in the evening. It is said that the Governor was generally present and made himself agreeable. This, no doubt, was a select circle, and the enjoyment derived consisted of the social pleasures and the good things to eat and drink, the beverages being Madeira wine and rum and brandy punch served up in silver tankards. Governor Bellomont speaks of the men who were opposed to him meeting as a club and of Governor Fletcher’s club night, which was Saturday. The club opposed to Bellomont met at the tavern of Lieutenant Matthews, which was in the South Ward. In 1734 there was a club in New York called the Hum Drum Club, which appears to have been honored by the presence of the Governor on two succeeding Saturdays. As we approach the period of the Revolution, we find the number of clubs increasing; they were organized with different objects in view. There was the purely social club, the political club, the club for the lawyer and the club for the physician, etc.

The growing commercial importance of New York induced the building of a new Exchange for merchants in the middle of Broad Street, near the East River, which was commenced in 1752, on or near the site of one which had stood there since 1690. In June, permission for erecting it was given by the city and one hundred pounds appropriated towards its erection. The original intention was probably to build it like the old one, which was simply an open structure with nothing but roof above; but, in August, the corporation resolved that they would at their own expense, build or cause to be built a room twelve feet high over the Exchange, for which an appropriation was made of twelve hundred pounds (£1,200). A cupola was erected on it, but it had no bell until 1769, when one was provided. The large room in the upper story was for many years used by societies for their annual meetings and elections, for concerts and for dinners and entertainments to persons of distinction, and by the Common Council for their regular meetings while the City Hall was being repaired. It was leased to Oliver De Lancey for one year, from February 1, 1754. The next year it was let to Keen and Lightfoot, who opened in one end of it a coffee-room called the Exchange Coffee Room, which was continued for many years. In March, 1756, a show was given here called the microcosm, or the world in miniature. In 1756 the partnership of Keen and Lightfoot was broken up. Lightfoot continued the coffee room and Keen opened a tavern nearby which he called the Fountain Inn. Upon the death of Lightfoot, in 1757, his widow, Sarah, obtained a renewal of the lease and continued the business, but the following year, the rent being raised, it passed into the hands of Roper Dawson, and was opened as a mercantile store.

THE ROYAL EXCHANGE

Business at the Merchants’ Coffee House continually increased. It became the recognized place for public vendues or auctions of real estate, merchandise, negroes, horses, or any other article of sale. Several sales of vessels, dining the year 1753, were made here, where the inventories were posted. In May the sloop, Sea Flower, late commanded by Evert Evertson, and one-fourth part of the ship John, Richard Coffee, master, were offered for sale; in August the sloop, Catherine; and in September one-third part of the ship, Fame, Captain Seymour. When the sloop Catharine was offered for sale, notice was given that she could be seen in Rotten Row, almost opposite the Merchants’ Coffee House. Rotten Row was a place on the East River shore which the extension of the dock to the north of Wall Street, and that at Cruger’s Wharf, made into a sort of cove where the shipping received some protection. Between these two points the river came up to the southeast side of the present Water Street, and the dock was known as Hunter’s Keys. The New York Gazette of January 6, 1752, stated that the river was then full of ice and that many vessels had been detained from sailing, and, “with the rest of our shipping, squeezed into Rotten Row for Shelter. It was a happy Turn the Corporation acted with that Prudence in not consenting to the Views of a few self-interested People, to get the only Place for Shelter of our shipping fill’d up.”

In 1753 Governor Clinton, who had had a long fight with the assembly during his administration, retired from the office of Governor to a sinecure provided for him in England. He had accomplished the object of his mission as to his personal interests, and at his recommendation Sir Danvers Osborne became his successor.

On Saturday, the 6th of October, 1753, the ship Arundal, Captain Lloyd, arrived at Sandy Hook, with Sir Danvers Osborne on board. He came up to the city the next day in the ship’s barge, and landed at the Whitehall Slip, where he was received by the members of the Council, the Mayor and Aldermen, the officers of the militia and most of the principal gentlemen of the city. Governor Clinton being at his country seat at Flushing, Long Island, Osborne was escorted to the Governor’s house in Fort George, where an elegant entertainment was prepared for his reception, when the healths of his majesty and of all the members of the royal family were drank, as was usual on such occasions. On Monday Governor Clinton came in from his country seat and Sir Danvers Osborne was elegantly entertained at a public dinner given by the gentlemen of the Council, and on Tuesday the corporation voted him the freedom of the city, presented to him in a golden box. On Wednesday the commission of Sir Danvers Osborne was first published in Council, and while the usual oaths were being taken, the corporation, the city representatives, the militia officers, the clergy and all the principal inhabitants assembled in the parade and, together with the Council, wailed on his excellency, attended by a company of foot and a vast concourse of people, to the City Hall, where his commission was a second time published. He then, amidst the shouts and acclamations of the people, attended in like manner, returned to the fort, where the usual royal healths were drank, the guns in the common and harbor firing, and the bells of all the churches of the city ringing. The corporation then waited on Sir Danvers with an address, to which he gave a short and agreeable reply.

Danvers Osborn

At the tavern of George Burns, opposite the Long Bridge, a grand dinner was ordered by the corporation. A committee had been appointed with instructions to invite his majesty’s Council, such members of the Assembly as should be in town, the captain of the man-of-war, with such gentlemen as came over with the Governor, the treasurer of the colony, the King’s attorney, Mr. Rutledge, Mr. Gordon, Mr. Penn and Mr. Oliver De Lancey to dine with his Excellency, Sir Danvers Osborn, Bart. The committee were, besides, instructed to provide for a bonfire on the common near the workhouse, and to procure three dozen of wine to be sent to the fire, that the City Hall, the Alms-House and the Ferry-House should be illuminated and that a half-barrel of cannon-powder be provided to discharge the cannon on the Common near the bonfire. The newspapers state that the dinner was “an elegant and splendid entertainment. In the evening two and forty cannon were discharged in the Common. Two large bonfires were erected. Some thousands of the populace crowded the Common and the whole town was for several hours most bountifully illuminated.” Notwithstanding all this rejoicing, and the enthusiasm with which he was received, the new Governor became despondent and, on the morning of Friday, the 12th of October, his body was found hanging to the garden fence of Mr. Murray, at whose house he was staying. He had committed suicide.

From the very fact that the house of George Burns was selected as the place for the dinner given to the new Governor, we may very confidently conclude that it was considered the best tavern in New York at that time. George Burns was the landlord of the King’s Arms, which, until about this time, had also been called the Exchange Coffee House. The coffee house of this period was generally considered to be more a meeting place for the transaction of business than the tavern and until the Merchants’ Coffee House was established the Exchange Coffee House had been the resort of merchants and the place where business transactions were made and where auctions were held for the sale of merchandise of all kinds.

Before the year 1754 there had been no one tavern that had stood at the head and maintained a leading position for any length of time; but in this year Edward Willett, well known in New York as the landlord, at different times, of many prominent houses, opened a tavern in the house of James De Lancey on Broadway which from this time became the most prominent tavern in the city and so continued until after the Revolution, when on the same site was built in 1794 the City Hotel, which also for a long time held the lead as a public house. Willett moved into it from the Horse and Cart and described it as “the house of the honorable James De Lancey, Esq., Lieutenant Governor, at the sign of the Province Arms in Broadway, near Oswego Market.”

While Willett was keeping the Horse and Cart, on Thursday, October 25, 1753, the last day of the sitting of the Supreme Court, the justices of the court, the attorney-general, and the counsellors and attorneys attending the court, marched in a procession from the City Hall to the house of the Lieutenant Governor and presented him with an address, after which, accompanied by the Lieutenant Governor, they all marched to the house of Edward Willett, where a grand dinner was served to them.

The house that Willett opened on Broadway at the Province Arms, or the New York Arms, as it was sometimes called, was one of the largest and finest in the city, and from the time it was opened as a tavern was patronized by the public societies and was the recognized place for giving all public entertainments of importance. It had been built by Stephen De Lancey about the year 1730 and, subsequently, came into the possession of his son, James De Lancey, the Lieutenant Governor. It was two stories high, with windows opening to the floor. It stood on the west side of Broadway, between the present Thames and Cedar Streets, commanding from its windows a beautiful view of the bay, the river and the opposite shores. Somewhat retired from the busy parts of the city, it was a beautiful and agreeable spot for a first-class public house. Broadway was becoming the favorite promenade. The church walk, in front of Trinity, near by, was the resort of the fashion of the town for the afternoon.

On Tuesday, April 29, 1755, soon after Lieutenant Governor De Lancey had returned from a trip to the more southern colonies, where he had been received with all the honors due to his official station, and where he had met the other governors in consultation as to the situation on the French and Indian frontier, Governor William Shirley, of Massachusetts, and Governor Robert Hunter Morris, of Pennsylvania, arrived in New York from the westward and were welcomed to the city with great formality. On landing at Whitehall Slip they were saluted by a discharge of cannon from Fort George, and welcomed ashore by Lieutenant Governor De Lancey, members of his majesty’s council and many of the principal gentlemen of the city. The city militia had been ordered to muster and were drawn up so as to line the street as the gentlemen passed on to the fort, where they drank his majesty’s and all the loyal healths with success to the English-American enterprises. They then proceeded through the lines still formed by the militia to the New York Arms, on Broadway. Here a handsome entertainment was provided where the healths of his majesty and the royal family were repeated with “cheerfulness and alacrity.” The newspaper account states that the doors, windows, balconies and the tops of the houses were decorated, red cloaks being largely used to brighten the scene and give it life and color.

On Wednesday, the 7th of May, 1755, the gentlemen who had been appointed governors of the College of the Province of New York (afterwards called King’s College) met at the house of Edward Willett, at the sign of the New York Arms, “when the Deputy Secretary attended with his Majesty’s Royal Charter of Incorporation.” Lieutenant Governor De Lancey was pleased to order the charter read, and “after addressing himself to the governors in a very affectionate, genteel and suitable manner,” delivered to them the Charter, and they were qualified to exercise the important trust reposed in them by taking the oaths (to the government and that of office), and subscribing the declaration as prescribed by the charter. This was the birth of King’s College, now Columbia University. The next Tuesday, the 13th of May, being the day appointed by the charter for the annual meeting of the governors, they accordingly met at the New York Arms to proceed upon business, and the meetings of the governors of the college continued to be held here for many years.

The year 1755 was a sad one in the English colonies. The defeat of Braddock filled the land with gloom and depression which was only partially dispelled by the repulse of the French at Lake George and the capture of their commander, Dieskau. New York City was roused to exertion and the spirit of the colony rose to occasion. Troops of soldiers were passing through to the seat of war, the drumbeat was constantly heard in the streets, recruiting offices were opened at the taverns, and the prominent citizens met at their usual resorts to discuss the news of war. No formal declaration of war had been made by either England or France, yet war, in its most distressing forms, was raging on all the frontiers of the English colonies.

“THE DRUMBEAT WAS CONSTANTLY HEARD IN THE STREETS”

In the midst of this excitement his majesty’s ship, The Sphinx, arrived with the new governor, Sir Charles Hardy. About ten o’clock on the morning of September 3, 1755, the people of New York heard the booming of cannon from The Sphinx, which had arrived the night before and was lying in the harbor. Sir Charles was on his way to the city in the ship’s barge and the discharge of cannon was in his honor on his leaving the ship. This was soon answered from Fort George, when Lieutenant Governor De Lancey, the members of the council and the assembly, the mayor and aldermen, the clergy and the principal gentlemen of the city, at the Whitehall Stairs, welcomed him to the province, and through lines of militia, mustered for the occasion, escorted him to the Fort. After going through the usual ceremonies he was conducted to the City Hall, where his commission was published. He then returned to the Fort to receive the congratulations of the officials and the public. The new governor was then conducted to the New York Arms, where, by invitation of Lieutenant Governor De Lancey, he dined with the council and the assembly, and many other gentlemen, “and where repeated Healths of Loyalty, Success to His Majesty’s Arms, both in Europe and America, Prosperity to the English-American Colonies, a speedy Defeat of the French from off the borders, and a total Extinction of their very name in America went round with great Unanimity and Dispatch.” The newspapers state that “at night the Windows in the city were ornamented with lights and two large bonfires were erected on the Common where several hampers of good old Madeira (which proved brisker than bottled Ale) were given to the Populace and where Sir Charles’ Presence, about eight o’clock in the Evening closed the joyful and merry Proceeding.” The Sphinx not only brought to the province a new governor but she brought also something that was very acceptable and very much needed, good hard money to the amount of twenty thousand pounds for the use of the forces in America.

Chas. Hardy

While Willett was landlord of the New York Arms, the dancing assemblies, which for a great many years were a feature of the life of the city, were commenced at this house. These were not new, for meetings for dancing had been customary for many years, but no tavern before had been able to afford a room so well suited for the purpose. These assemblies were held fortnightly on Thursday, during the winter season, and the subscription to each meeting was eight shillings. The ball was opened at eight o’clock and closed at midnight. In 1759 the managers were Messrs. Duane, Walton, McEvers and Banyer, names which convey to us the conviction that the company was quite select. Notice was given that “Strangers will not be admitted unless they apply for tickets before 5 o’clock of every assembly night at the Directors Houses.”

Colonel Peter Schuyler, of New Jersey, who was taken prisoner at Oswego, had distinguished himself by his generosity to his fellow prisoners in Canada and by his kindness and assistance to all of his countrymen in distress, making no distinction between Jerseymen and those from other provinces, spending money freely, which his captors were willing to supply on his personal drafts, knowing him to be wealthy. He had been released at Montreal on his parole to return in six months, unless an exchange had in the meantime been settled for him. Making his way through the forests to Fort Edward and thence to Albany, he arrived in New York on Saturday afternoon, November 19, 1757. He had many relatives and friends in the city and the people were so sensible of the services which he had rendered to the province of New York that, to honor him, the public buildings and most of the houses in town were illuminated, a bonfire was made on the Common and at the King’s Arms Tavern an elegant entertainment was given in celebration of his return from captivity and there was great rejoicing at his safe arrival.

Peter Schuyler

The profitable business of privateering, broken up by the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748, was resumed with renewed vigor by the adventurous merchants and ship-owners of New York at the commencement of the war. The whole coast, from Maine to Georgia, was soon alive with daring, adventurous, some among them, no doubt, unscrupulous privateers, who, failing of success against the enemy did not hesitate, when a good opportunity offered, to plunder the vessels of friendly nations. In 1756 there were over twenty ships from the port of New York carrying nearly two hundred and fifty guns and manned by nearly two thousand men scouring the seas, and before January, 1758, they had brought into New York fifty-nine prizes, besides those taken into other ports for adjudication. So popular was this business that Lieutenant Governor De Lancey, in 1758, complained “that men would no longer enlist in the army,” and “that the country was drained of many able-bodied men by almost a kind of madness to go a-privateering.” The old captains of the previous war again hoisted their flags and were joined by many younger men. Alexander McDougal and Isaac Sears, whose names became prominent in the history of the city, commanded the Tiger and Decoy and Thomas Doran, who kept a tavern at the Fly Market, in the fast-sailing pilot-boat, Flying Harlequin, with fourteen guns, and armed to the teeth, made rapid and successful trips.

Much more dreaded than the enemy by the privateersmen were the press gangs sent out by the men-of-war. The captain of a British man-of-war did not hesitate, when in need of men, to board colonial vessels and take any number required or even to kidnap them from the city for service in the British navy. The privateersman was pressed with peculiar satisfaction. Attempts at impressment resulted in several bloody encounters. In 1760, the crew of the Sampson of Bristol, who had fired on the barge of H. M. S. Winchester, on attempting to board her, killing a number of men, were protected and concealed by the people from the reach of the sheriff and the militia ordered to his assistance. On July 10, 1764, four fishermen were taken from their vessel in the harbor and carried on board the tender of a man-of-war. The next day, when the captain of the tender came on shore, his boat was seized by a number of men, and with great shouting dragged through the streets to the middle of the green in the Fields, where they burned and destroyed her and then quickly dispersed. Meanwhile the captain publicly declared that he was not responsible for the seizure of the men, and, going into the Coffee House, wrote an order for their release. The order was carried on board the tender and the fishermen brought ashore. The magistrates, as soon as they had notice of the affair, sent out men to disperse the mob and secure the boat, but the mischief had been done. The court met in the afternoon, but were unable to discover any person concerned in the business, and the probability is that there was no great effort or desire to do so.

THE PRESS GANG

We find continuously in the newspapers issued during the war notices of sales of prize ships and cargoes at the taverns, at the Coffee House and on the wharves near by. The Merchants’ Coffee House, where the inventories were posted, had become the recognized place with the merchants for the transaction of all kinds of business, and many sales of ships and prizes taken by the privateers were made here. It had become a sort of maritime exchange. In 1758 Luke Roome was its landlord, and was also the owner of the house, which he offered for sale. It was purchased by Doctor Charles Arding, who retained possession of it until 1792, when it was acquired by the Tontine Association, who built on it and other contiguous lots the Tontine Coffee House. Luke Roome was afterwards assistant alderman and for several years leased the docks and slips of the city. How long he was landlord of the Merchants’ Coffee House we do not know.

It was customary in colonial times and even a good deal later to build market houses in the middle of streets. For a great many years in the middle of Wall Street, between Queen Street or Hanover Square and the river, had stood the Meal Market. In the course of time, as the building grew old, the merchants and those living in the neighborhood came to consider it as a nuisance, and in 1762 petitioned the authorities for its removal. They say in their petition: “It greatly obstructs the agreeable prospect of the East River, which those that live in Wall Street would otherwise enjoy; and, furthermore, occasions a dirty street, offensive to the inhabitants on each side and disagreeable to those who pass to and from the coffe-house, a place of great resort.” Garrat Noel, the most prominent bookseller in New York, moved his store in 1757 and, in his announcements in the newspapers, gives its location as next door to the Merchants’ Coffee House, opposite the Meal Market; but, in July, 1762, he announces his store as “next door to the Merchants’ Coffee House, near where the Meal Market stood.” This is pretty good evidence that it had been taken down very soon after the petition was presented for its removal.

Down near the water at Whitehall Slip stood the Crown and Thistle, a tavern kept by John Thompson, who preferred the cognomen of Scotch Johnny, by which he was familiarly known. Here good dinners were served to merchants, travellers and army officers, and here travellers could make arrangements for transportation in Captain O’Brien’s stage-boat to Perth Amboy on their way to Philadelphia or by boat to Staten Island or Elizabethtown Point, which was the route taken by a large majority of travellers going south. Those landed on Staten Island passed along on the north shore to a point opposite Elizabethtown Point, where they crossed the Kills to that place by ferry. Scotch Johnny was not only the landlord of the Crown and Thistle and lodged and entertained travellers who landed near his house or waited there for boats to carry them across the bay, but was himself, in 1755, interested in transportation of travellers to Staten Island, and the next year to Perth Amboy, on their way to the south. On November 30, 1753, the anniversary of St. Andrew was celebrated at the Crown and Thistle by the gentlemen of the Scots’ Society, where an elegant dinner was provided, the colors being displayed on the ships in the harbor, particularly the ship Prince William.

All the travel to the north and east went out of the city over Bowery Lane to Harlem or King’s Bridge. This was the Boston post road. In 1750, at the upper end of Queen Street, near Alderman Benson’s, stood the Black Horse Tavern, kept by Jonathan Ogden, “where the Boston post puts up.” This tavern in the suburbs was a convenient and suitable place for taking a parting glass with friends about to set out on a journey and wishing them godspeed, as was then the custom. Ogden and his successor, besides furnishing entertainment for travellers and stabling for horses, made it their business to supply travellers with horses, chairs, harness, saddles, etc., either for short drives on the island or for more extensive trips. In 1753, after the death of Ogden, John Halstead became the landlord of the Black Horse. At the public vendue of the household goods belonging to the estate of Ogden, there was offered for sale an article called a “Messacipia Table.” We leave it to the reader to conjecture what it was for. In 1756 there was a Black Horse Tavern in Fair (Fulton) Street.

THE BULL’S HEAD TAVERN

Just after entering the Bowery Lane the traveller would come to the Bull’s Head Tavern, which in 1755 was kept by George Brewitson. This was the great resort and stopping place for the farmers and drovers who brought in cattle for the city market and where they were met by the butchers who purchased their stock. Thus it was not only a tavern but a sort of market for live stock or for the meat supply of the city and continued such for a great many years. The Bull’s Head market survives to the present day, only a little further uptown. Three or four miles out was the Union Flag, and not far from this was a house which was described as a noted tavern where lived John Creiger, four miles from New York and ten miles from King’s Bridge.

At the northwest corner of the present 66th Street and Third Avenue stood the Dove Tavern. From this point the road continued northward for some distance, and then to avoid the swamps and inlets, turned to the westward, entering the present bounds of Central Park, and ascended the hill at the top of which was a large stone tavern. This had been built by Jacob Dyckman, Jr., near the year 1750, who, about ten years after, sold it to the Widow McGown, who, with the assistance of her son Andrew, kept the house, which became known as McGown’s Pass Tavern. That the old stone tavern was a house of generous capacity is evident from its being selected as the place for the meeting of the colonial assembly, while the City Hall was being repaired, in October and November, 1752. Just a little south, on the opposite side of the road, was a tavern, which, shortly before the Revolution, was known as the Black Horse. It is thought to have been the headquarters of General Cornwallis during the battle of Harlem Heights. Dyckman’s or McGown’s Pass Tavern was about half way between New York and King’s Bridge and there was doubtless a natural demand by travellers on this part of the road for entertainment, which induced Dyckman to build a capacious house. Once a week it received a visit from the post rider going out and once a week on his return. It must necessarily have received considerable trade from passing travellers, farmers and drovers, for it was on the one road which led out of the city, and its capacity to entertain attracted many a dinner party of those who followed the hounds, for fox-hunting was a sport indulged in by many New Yorkers at that time.

McGown’s Pass was the scene of some activity in the first year of the Revolution, and was fortified and occupied by the British troops during the whole seven years of the war. Early on the morning of September 15, 1776, the English ships lying in the East River opened fire for the purpose of silencing the American battery at Horn’s Hook and to cover the British landing at Kip’s Bay. Washington had a few days previous removed his headquarters to the Roger Morris house, from which could be had an extensive view to the south, including the East River shores. Warned by the bombardment that something important was about to take place, Washington, in haste, mounted his horse and dashed down at utmost speed over the road past McGown’s to the scene of action. This ride was something like that celebrated ride of General Phil Sheridan about ninety years later, but not with similar results. Before he arrived at Murray Hill, the British troops had landed, and the Americans were in full retreat. Two months later a sad spectacle was witnessed at McGown’s Pass as the twenty-eight hundred prisoners taken at the surrender of Fort Washington filed down over the hills to New York. Many had been plundered by the Hessians, and all of them showed the effects of the desperately fought battle through which they had passed. They were on their way to years of suffering, many on their way to death in English prisons, which, happily for them, they did not then understand.

THE ROGER MORRIS HOUSE

On the road about a mile further north after leaving McGown’s there was a tavern standing near where the present St. Nicholas Avenue crosses 126th Street, which, about the time of the Revolution and for many years after, was known as Day’s Tavern; and about three miles further was the Blue Bell, which, although a small house, seems to have been well known at a very early period and to have continued its existence down to quite recent times. From the Blue Bell to King’s Bridge was about two and a half miles.

THE BLUE BELL TAVERN

At the most northern point of the island was the only place in its whole circumference from which, in early days, the mainland could be reached by a ford. It was called the Wading Place. Near this a ferry was established, but as early as 1680 the governor’s council ordered “Spiting Devil” to be viewed for a bridge. Action was delayed. Governor Fletcher in 1692 recommended its construction by the city, but the city declined on account of the expense. In January, 1693, Frederick Flypsen offered to build a bridge at his own expense, if he were allowed certain “easy and reasonable toles,” and he was accordingly granted the franchise for ninety-nine years. A bridge was constructed by him the same year. It was to be twenty-four feet wide, with a draw for the passage of such vessels as navigated the stream; to be free for the King’s forces and to be named the King’s Bridge. This bridge was in possession of some member of the Philipse family, descendant of Frederick Flypsen, until the Revolutionary War, and was, no doubt, before the free bridge was built, a profitable investment. A tavern was opened on the northern side for the entertainment of travellers. Madam Sarah Knight, in returning to Boston in December, 1704, set out with her companions “about one afternoon, and about three came to half-way house about ten miles out of town, where we Baited and went forward, and about 5 come to Spiting Devil, Else King’s Bridge, where they pay three pence for passing over with a horse, which the man that keeps the Gate set up at the end of the Bridge receives.” The half-way house, spoken of by Madam Knight, stood at the foot of the hill on the Kingsbridge Road on a line with the present 109th Street. We find that in 1746 there was a public vendue of lots of land at the Half-Way House, near Harlem, which was very likely the same place.

On account of the barrier gate and the tolls demanded, the King’s Bridge, as travel increased, became unpopular and, in 1756, a project was set on foot for building a free bridge by voluntary subscriptions. When sufficient had been secured, Benjamin Palmer, who was active in the undertaking, began the work of building the bridge a little below the first bridge, from the land of Jacob Dyckman, on the island, to that of Thomas Vermilve on the Westchester side. Colonel Phillipse, the owner of King’s Bridge, tried in every way to prevent its construction. Twice in one year he caused Palmer to be impressed “as a soldier to go to Canada,” which compelled him to procure and pay for substitutes. Nevertheless, in spite of all opposition, the bridge was finished, and the celebration of its completion was announced as follows:

“These are to acquaint the public, That to-morrow the Free Bridge, erected and built across the Harlem River, will be finished and completed. And on the same day there will be a stately Ox roasted whole on the Green, for and as a small Entertainment to the Loyal People who come.”

The following memoranda from the manuscript diary of Paymaster General Mortier, of the royal navy, indicates the taverns of New York that were probably most patronized by the fashionable gentlemen of the day, for the few years preceding 1761:

1758	Jan.	1	At the Assembly			2.	6
	Feb.	18	Dinner at the Glass House			3.	5
	Mar.	1	""Black Sam’s			1.	10
		28	""Scotch Johnny’s			5.	6
		30	Willett’s Assembly			8.
	June	10	To the Band of Music of the 46th			8.
		18	Dinner at the Coffee House			5.	6
1759	May		Supper at Farrell’s			9.
			Farrell Wine		1.	1.	6
1760	Jan.		Towards a ball at King’s Arms		1.	0.
			Subscription to the Concert		1.	12.
			Subscription to a ball at Byrnes			12.
			To one week at the Coffee House			2.
	Feb.	2	To one week at the Coffee House			2.
		19	To one week at the Coffee House			2.
	Mar.	28	Dinner at the Fountain			8.
	Apr.	4	Supper at Byrnes’			8.
		5	""the Fountain			6.
		18	""the Fountain			8.

The piece of land, now the block inclosed by Broadway, Fulton, Nassau and Ann Streets, or nearly so, was, in the early part of the eighteenth century, a public resort, and known as Spring Garden. There was a tavern or public house on the premises known as Spring Garden House, standing on the site of the present St. Paul’s Building, corner of Broadway and Ann Street, which in 1739 was occupied by Thomas Scurlock, who may have been in possession of it for some time. In an administration bond given by him in 1718 he is styled vintner. Spring Garden House appears to have been a well-known landmark, used as such in records and in the newspapers.

After the death of Thomas Scurlock in 1747 the tavern was kept for some years by his widow, Eve. When the house was advertised for sale in 1759 it was described as “in Broadway at the corner of Spring Garden, now in use as a tavern, Sign of the King of Prussia, and next door to Dr. Johnson’s” (President of King’s College). In 1763 the landlord of the house was John Elkin. After about 1770 we hear no more of it as a tavern.

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