The Shakespeare Tavern

On June 19, 1812, President Madison issued his formal proclamation of war with Great Britain. The news reached New York at nine o’clock on the morning of Saturday, June 20th. On the same day orders came to Commodore Rodgers to sail on a cruise against the enemy. He was in entire readiness and put to sea within an hour after receiving his instructions. He passed Sandy Hook on the afternoon of June 21st, with his squadron consisting of the President, 44; the United States, 44; the Congress, 38; the Hornet, 18; and the Argus, 16—in all, five vessels, carrying 160 guns. The British force cruising off the coast consisted of eight men-of-war, carrying 312 guns, with a number of corvettes and sloops. In a few months the victories of the American ships thrilled the country with satisfaction and delight and fairly stunned the English who had regarded the American navy as beneath contempt.

THE GREAT NAVAL DINNER AT THE CITY HOTEL

On Tuesday, December 29, 1812, a magnificent banquet was given by the corporation and citizens of New York at the City Hotel, then kept by Gibson, in honor of Captain Decatur, Captain Hull and Captain Jones, to celebrate their recent victories. The dinner was served at five o’clock in the afternoon and five hundred gentlemen sat down to table. It was a naval dinner and marine decorations prevailed. The large dining-room “was colonaded round with the masts of ships entwined with laurels and bearing the flags of all the world.” Each table had on it a ship in miniature flying the American flag. At the head of the room, at a long table raised about three feet above the others, sat the mayor of the city, DeWitt Clinton, the president of the feast, with Decatur upon his right and Hull upon his left. In front of this, in a space covered with green grass was a lake of real water, on which floated a miniature frigate. Across the end of the room, back of all, hung on the wall the large main sail of a ship. At the toast, “To our Navy,” the main-sail was furled, exposing to view two large transparent paintings, one representing the battles between the Constitution and the Guerriere, the United States and the Macedonian and the Wasp and the Frolic, and the other representing the American Eagle holding in his beak three civic crowns, on which were the following inscriptions: “Hull and the Guerriere”—“Jones and the Frolic”—“Decatur and the Macedonian,” which produced great enthusiasm among the guests. The dinner was a great success. At the very time it was being served, Commodore Bainbridge, in the Constitution, was engaged with the British frigate, Java, in a hot action, lasting nearly two hours, in which he silenced all her guns and made of her a riddled and dismantled hulk, not worth bringing to port. In this same banquet room, the decorations having been retained, the crew of the United States were entertained on Thursday, January 7, 1813, by the corporation. Alderman Vanderbilt delivered the address of welcome to the sailors, of whom there were about four hundred present. After dinner, by invitation, they attended the Park Theatre, where the drop-curtain had on it a painting representing the fight of the United States and the Macedonian.

Stephen Decatur

On the 13th of May, 1813, by a vote of the common council, a dinner was given to Captain Lawrence, of the Hornet, and his gallant crew at Washington Hall. The seamen landed at Whitehall Slip about half-past two o’clock in the afternoon, attended by the band of the Eleventh Regiment and marched through Pearl Street, Wall Street and Broadway to Washington Hall. At half-past three o’clock the petty officers, seamen and marines sat down to a bountiful repast. Paintings representing the victories of Hull, Decatur, Jones and Bainbridge decorated the walls of the room, and over the chair of the boatswain of the Hornet, who was the presiding officer, was an elegant view by Holland of the action of the Hornet with the Peacock. The table was decorated with a great variety of flags and with emblems appropriate to the occasion. After the meats were removed a visit to the room was made by the common council, accompanied by Captain Lawrence. At the sight of their commander the sailors rose from their seats and heartily cheered him with three times three. Perfect order and decorum were preserved and the bottle, the toast and the song went round with hilarity and glee.

Isaac Hull

J. Lawrence

In another room a dinner was served to the corporation and its guests, among whom were Captain Lawrence and all his officers, the commanders of all the ships of war on the New York Station, many of the judges of the courts and Colonel Joseph G. Swift, the commander of the corps of engineers. This room was decorated by many emblematic paintings by Mr. Holland, descriptive of our naval victories; some of them had been used at the great naval dinner given to Decatur, Hull and Jones at the City Hotel in the previous December.

The crew were invited to attend the performance at the theater that evening, the front of the theater being illuminated and the pit set apart for their accommodation. They marched in a body from the dinner table to the theater at six o’clock.

A dinner was given to General Harrison in the afternoon of December 1, 1813, at Tammany Hall under the direction of the State Republican (Democratic) general committee of New York. Besides the distinguished guest, there were Governor Tompkins, Major-Generals Dearborn and Hampton, Judge Brockholst Livingston, of the United States Supreme Court, and a great number of officers of the army and navy and of the volunteer corps of the city. The dining hall was handsomely decorated under the direction of Mr. Holland. There were five tables, containing sixty covers each, ornamented by representations of castles, pyramids, etc., provided by Martling and Cozzens, the proprietors, in their usual elegant and liberal manner.

The Federalists, in their turn, on the 8th of the same month, in the afternoon, gave a splendid dinner to Commodore Bainbridge at Washington Hall, at which John B. Coles presided. Notwithstanding the unpleasant weather there were nearly three hundred persons present. Among the number were Governor Tompkins, Mayor Clinton, Major-Generals Dearborn and Stevens, Judges Brockholst Livingston, Van Ness and Benson and the officers of the navy on the New York Station. The room was handsomely decorated and the dinner was provided by Captain Crocker and served up in a very correct and elegant style.

The next public dinner during the winter season was given to Commodore Perry on the afternoon of the 11th of January, 1814, at Tammany Hall, at which about three hundred and fifty persons were present. Major James Fairlie presided. There were seven tables; one of these, on an elevated platform, at which the honored guests were seated, crossed the eastern end of the room, the others led from it to the lower end, and all were beautifully embellished with numerous ornaments. The pillars of the hall were surrounded with clusters of American flags, and the decorations of the hall were arranged under the gratuitous direction of Mr. Holland. Five transparent paintings from his pencil adorned the walls. One of these, covering about one hundred and fifty square feet, represented a large eagle bearing in his beak and talons a scroll inscribed in large capitals: “We have Met the Enemy and they are Ours.” In the evening Commodore Perry attended a ball at Washington Hall which followed a concert given at that place.

As before the war, the people were divided into two great parties, one for war, the other for peace, but both claiming to be acting for the good of the general government and the welfare of the people, while the fear of disunion of the states hung heavily over the country. At the anniversary dinner at Washington Hall on the 4th of July, 1813, one of the volunteer toasts was: “Our Country—Disgraced by the folly of democracy, may its character soon be retrieved by the virtue and talents of federalism.” The war made the celebration of the Fourth of July particularly important, and the two parties vied with each other in patriotic demonstrations. The celebration of Independence Day, 1814, was made by two grand processions; one was led by the Tammany Society, which was joined and followed by several other societies; the other was led by the Washington Benevolent Society, joined by the Hamilton Society. The military parade, headed by the governor, was made entirely independent of any procession. After the procession the members of the Tammany Society sat down to a repast prepared by Martling and Cozzens, proprietors of Tammany Hall Hotel, and the members of the Washington Benevolent Society and of the Hamilton Society dined in the afternoon at Washington Hall, but in separate rooms. The State Society of the Cincinnati held their annual meeting at the City Hall, after which they retired to the Tontine Coffee House where a dinner was served to them at four o’clock. Commodore Decatur, lately elected an honorary member, dined with the Society. After dinner, eighteen toasts were drunk, each followed by an appropriate piece of music by Moffit’s military band. At Vauxhall the celebration in the evening surpassed in display and grandeur any previous exhibitions of the kind.

At the close of the war of 1812 the news of peace was received in New York with the greatest joy. Mr. Carroll, the bearer of the treaty, on his arrival in the British sloop-of-war Favorite, about eight o’clock in the evening of Saturday, February 15, 1815, went directly to the City Hotel, which he made his quarters; and in less than twenty minutes after he entered the house most of the windows in the lower part of Broadway and the adjoining streets were illuminated, and the streets were densely filled with people who came forth to see and to hear and to rejoice. Samuel G. Goodrich, who was at a concert in the City Hotel, writes: “While listening to the music the door of the concert-room was thrown open and in rushed a man breathless with excitement. He mounted on a table and, swinging a white handkerchief aloft, cried out: “Peace! Peace! Peace!” The music ceased, the hall was speedily vacated, I rushed into the street, and oh, what a scene! In a few minutes thousands and tens of thousands of people were marching about with candles, lamps, torches, making the jubilant street appear like a gay and gorgeous procession. The whole night Broadway sang its song of peace.” Swift expresses were sent out to Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, Boston, Providence and Albany, and when the news was received from Washington of the ratification, which, by a combination of four newspapers was brought to New York in twenty-three hours, extensive preparations were made for a grand celebration and illumination on February 22, which on account of unfavorable weather was deferred and took place on the 27th. Fire works were gotten up and exhibited on a stage in front of the Government House under the superintendence of Joseph Delacroix, of Vauxhall Garden, which is said to have exceeded any former exhibition. The descriptions of the illuminations filled column after column of the newspapers. Among many others, lengthy descriptions were given of the illuminations of Tammany Hall, Washington Hall and the City Hotel.

Great preparations were soon made for a “superb ball” in honor of the joyful peace, which was given on March 16 at Washington Hall. The company consisted of upwards of six hundred ladies and gentlemen. The dancing room, eighty feet by sixty, was arranged to present the appearance of a beautiful elliptical pavilion, formed by eighteen pillars, on each of which was inscribed the name of a state, connected with the center of the lofty ceiling by garlands or festoons of laurel, and between the garlands, suspended from the ceiling, chandeliers composed of verdant and flowery wreaths. The garlands extending from the pillars were attached to a light central canopy, beneath which was a golden sun made to revolve rapidly, by means of machinery above the ceiling, so as to diffuse from its dazzling surface the reflected radiance of eight hundred lights. This was styled the Temple of Concord. On one side of the room, on a raised platform under a canopy of flags and surrounded with orange and lemon trees loaded with fruit, was the Bower of Peace, furnished with seats from which a good view of the cotillion parties could be had. The seats in each end of the room were also shaded with a profusion of orange trees and various rarer plants brought from the gardens and greenhouses of the vicinity. “The supper tables at which all the ladies were accommodated with seats at one time, though in two different apartments, were arranged and decorated in the most brilliant style; being lighted from above by illuminated arches entwined with flowers and supported by grouped columns from the center of the tables, and forming a line of arches from one extremity to the other. In short, the whole scene was one of the most splendid ever exhibited in this city; reflecting the highest credit on the managers and displaying a picture of female beauty, fashion and elegance not to be surpassed in any city of the union.”[5] The landlord of Washington Hall at this time was Peter McIntyre, who had in February succeeded Daniel W. Crocker. He had formerly kept a porter house at 33 Nassau Street.

In the description of the grand illumination on the evening of February 27, the decorations of the Shakespeare Tavern are particularly mentioned by the newspapers. This tavern had been for some years and continued to be for many years after, the resort of actors, poets and critics, as well as the rendezvous of the wits and literary men of the period. It stood on the southwest corner of Fulton and Nassau Streets, a low, old-fashioned, solid structure of small, yellow brick, two stories high, with dormer windows in the roof. Thomas Hodgkinson, brother of John Hodgkinson of the Park Theatre, became its landlord in 1808, and continued in it for sixteen years. He had formerly been the proprietor of a porter house at 17 Fair (Fulton) Street. In its early days the entrance to the house was by a green baize-covered door on Nassau Street, opening into a small hall with rooms on either side, the tap-room being the south front room on Nassau Street, in which was a circular bar of the old English pattern. It had been built many years before the Revolution, and in 1822 a modern extension was added on Fulton Street, three stories high. On the second floor was a large room for public meetings and military drills, and on the third floor another large room with arched ceiling for concerts and balls and for the accommodation of the political, literary and musical patrons of the house. The Euterpian Society met here once a month and once a year gave a public concert at the City Hotel, followed by a ball; while the older members of the society had a supper below. This was one of the events of the season, and the Assembly Room was crowded.

THE SHAKESPEARE TAVERN

For many years the Shakespeare Tavern was closely connected with the military history of the city. The Veteran Corps of Artillery usually had their dinners here. A dinner was served here to Captain Swain’s Company of the Third Regiment of Artillery on Evacuation Day, 1813. A few years ago a bronze tablet might have been seen on the corner of Fulton and Nassau Streets on which was the following inscription:

“AS CHOICE SPIRITS AS EVER SUPPED AT THE TURK’S HEAD”

The Old Shakespeare Tavern has been compared to the “Mermaid” of London in the days of Johnson and Shakespeare and to the “Turk’s Head” in the time of Reynolds, Garrick and Goldsmith. To what degree this comparison may extend is left to individual opinion, but there is no doubt that the best talent of the city in many departments were at times to be found within its walls. Fitz-Greene Halleck and Robert C. Sands, James G. Percival, James K. Paulding and Willis Gaylord Clark were frequent visitors and passed here in each other’s company many a merry evening. Here Sands first recited to his friends, William L. Stone, Gulian C. Verplanck and John Inman, his last and most remarkable poem, “The Dead of 1832.” Here DeWitt Clinton discussed with his friends his pet project, the Erie Canal, and demonstrated the feasibility of that great undertaking. Here some of the liveliest of the “Croakers” were conceived and brought forth. William L. Stone, a frequent visitor, says: “The Old Shakespeare has entertained coteries composed of as choice spirits as ever supped at the Turk’s Head.”

Under the management of Hodgkinson the Shakespeare became noted for the excellence of its wines and for the quaint style and quiet comfort of its suppers. About 1825 he was succeeded by James C. Stoneall, his son-in-law, who was an exceedingly courteous man and an attentive and obliging landlord. Before and after Stoneall became proprietor of the house it was the meeting place of the Krout Club, a social institution of the period, most of the members of which were supposed to be descendants of the early Dutch settlers. When the Grand Krout, as the presiding officer of the society was called, each year nodded his assent to a meeting and dinner, the announcement was made by piercing a cabbage and displaying it on the end of a long pole projected from an upper window of the place of meeting. It was customary, immediately after his election to his exalted position, to crown the newly-elected King of the Krouts with a cabbage head nicely hollowed out to fit his head and, at the same time, to throw over his shoulders a mantle of cabbage leaves. While thus arrayed as master of the feast, Dr. Samuel L. Mitchill delivered a very amusing address on the cabbage, the closing words of which were: “Thy name has been abused as if ‘to cabbage’ were to pilfer or steal. I repel with indignation the attempt to sully thy fame.”

The annual meeting of the Krouts was opened at nine o’clock in the morning and the fun and frolic was kept up until late at night. Just before the dinner the secretary read his annual report, which consisted of a humorous relation of some things that had occurred, but more especially of many things that had not occurred. At dinner were served smoked geese, ringlets (sausages), sauerkraut and cabbage in a great variety of dishes.

Pleasant memories of the old vine-clad tavern were cherished by many who only a few years ago passed over to the Great Beyond.

Two of the five American Commissioners who had negociated the Treaty of Peace at Ghent and the Commercial Treaty at London, Messrs. Albert Gallatin and Henry Clay, arrived in New York on September 1, 1815, and on the afternoon of the 5th a complimentary dinner was given them at Tammany Hall. Judge Brockholst Livingston presided. William Bayard, James Fairlie, John Hone, Thomas Farmer and Gilbert Aspinwall were vice-presidents and among the distinguished guests were the Hon. Rufus King, the Hon. A. J. Dallas, the Mayor, General Macomb, General Swift, etc. The Evening Post, a Federal paper, expressed surprise and regret that the dinner, instead of appearing to be given as it ought to have been, by the respectable citizens of New York without distinction of party, should have been “made to wear an invidious complexion by being brought forward in the public papers as having been gotten up by 17 gentlemen, all of whom, with a single exception are considered to be of the Democratic party.”

From the time of Washington no President of the United States, while in office, had visited New York city until President James Monroe, in June, 1817, made his tour of inspection. On the morning of June 11th he came up from Staten Island, where he had been the guest of Vice President Tompkins, in the steamboat Richmond, escorted by the sloop of war Saranac, Captain Elton, and the Revenue Cutter, Captain Cahoone. He landed on the Battery about twelve o’clock from Commodore Evans’ elegant barge, accompanied by the Vice President, General Swift and secretary, Captains Evans and Biddle of the United States navy, Major-General Morton and suite, Major-General Mapes and suite and the Committee of the Corporation, who had gone to Staten Island for that purpose, and was welcomed by a salute from a division of General Morton’s artillery, under the command of Brigadier-General Scott, of the United States army.

The President, after reviewing the line of troops, was escorted up Broadway to the City Hall, where, in the audience chamber, the Mayor, in the presence of the Governor and other prominent officials, presented him with an address. The State Society of the Cincinnati, headed by their Vice-President, General Stevens, also presented him a short address. After these ceremonies were concluded the President was escorted by a squadron of cavalry to the quarters provided for him at Gibson’s elegant establishment, the Merchants’ Hotel in Wall Street. After visiting the United States Arsenal, the President returned to the hotel at five o’clock and sat down to a sumptuous dinner prepared for the occasion. Among the guests were the Vice President of the United States, Governor Clinton, Hon. Rufus King, General Swift, General Scott, Mr. Mason, secretary to the President, General Stevens, General Morton, Col. Willett, Col. Platt, Major Fairlie, the President of the United States Bank and the Committee of the Corporation. The Merchants’ Hotel at 41 and 43 Wall Street had been established there some years, and when Solomon D. Gibson, a landlord of experience and reputation, had taken charge of it and it had been selected as a proper place to lodge and entertain the President of the United States, there is hardly a doubt that it was considered second to none in the city. In the evening the City Hall and other public buildings were illuminated.

There was a grand military ball at the City Hotel in celebration of Washington’s birthday, on the 22d of February, 1819, and at the same time the opportunity was embraced to honor General Jackson, who was a visitor to the city at that time. “Everything was in great style. Seven hundred persons were present. When the General entered, he was saluted by a discharge of artillery from a miniature fort raised on the orchestra.” The supper room was thrown open at twelve o’clock. Over the table was a transparency with the motto: “In the midst of festivity, forget not the services and sacrifices of those who have enabled you to enjoy it.” After supper there was a flagging in the dancing from exhaustion, when suddenly, to the surprise of all, was displayed a flag with the revivifying motto: “Don’t give up the ship.” “The effect was electric—the band struck up ‘Washington’s March,’ and the ball seemed but beginning! The diffusion of light upon an assemblage, the most brilliant we ever beheld, the taste with which the room was decorated with nearly two hundred flags, including those of almost all the nations of the world, combined with the military glitter of about two hundred gentlemen in uniform, interspersed in the dance with the female beauty and elegance of the city, produced an effect of the most pleasing nature.”

Jackson’s visit was the occasion of much merriment by the wits of the town on account of the toast offered by the General, not at the City Hotel, as has been related by some, but at a dinner given in his honor at Tammany Hall, by the Tammany Society or Columbian Order, on the 23d. At this dinner, General Jackson being called on for his toast, his honor the Mayor, who presided, rose, and to the consternation and dismay of Sachem William Mooney and other prominent members, announced the toast: “DeWitt Clinton, the governor of the great and patriotic state of New York,” after which the General left the room, according to one account, “amidst reiterated applause,” but according to another, “there was a dead silence for the space of three minutes at least.” A certain alderman, recovering his astonished senses a little, said, loud enough to be heard by all, that what he had just witnessed put him in mind of what Sir Peter Teazle says: “This is a damn’d wicked world we live in, Sir Oliver, and the fewer we praise the better.” The Republicans, or Democrats as they were afterwards called, were at this time divided into two factions. Jackson was an admirer of Clinton, but the “Bucktails” of Tammany Hall considered him as their bitterest foe. The dinner was a grand affair, the tickets to it being sold at five dollars each.

DeWitt Clinton

There was a memorable meeting held at the City Hotel in the fall of 1815. Its purpose was to advance the project for building a canal to connect Lake Erie and the Hudson River, which had been before the public for some years and which was considered by some as abandoned. Judge Jonas Platt, Thomas Eddy and DeWitt Clinton, all earnestly interested in the enterprise, discussed the matter and agreed to make an effort to revive interest in it. It was proposed to send out invitations to the most prominent and influential citizens of New York to meet at the City Hotel. This was done. William Bayard was made chairman of the meeting and John Pintard secretary. Jonas Platt and DeWitt Clinton delivered addresses, and although there was some opposition, a resolution was nevertheless passed by a large majority in favor of the object, and a committee consisting of DeWitt Clinton, Thomas Eddy, Cadwallader D. Colden and John Swartwout was chosen to prepare and circulate a memorial to the legislature. This celebrated paper was written by DeWitt Clinton and attracted great attention. It gave new life to the enterprise, which was ultimately successful.

In the autumn of 1816, at a meeting in the City Hotel, the first savings bank in New York was organized. The necessary capital was not raised until 1819, when it went into operation with William Bayard as its first president.

H. B. Fearon, an English traveller, writes in 1817: “There are in New York many hotels, some of which are on an extensive scale. The City Hotel is as large as the London Tavern. The dining room and some of the apartments seem to have been fitted up regardless of expense.” Quite different is the description given by Lieutenant Fred. Fitzgerald De Roos of the Royal Navy, who visited New York in May, 1826. He says: “We lodged at the City Hotel, which is the principal inn at New York. The house is immense and was full of company; but what a wretched place! The floors were without carpets, the beds without curtains; there was neither glass, mug nor cup, and a miserable little rag was dignified with the name of towel. The entrance to the house is constantly obstructed by crowds of people passing to and from the bar-room, where a person presides at a buffet formed upon the plan of a cage. This individual is engaged, ‘from morn to dewy eve,’ in preparing and issuing forth punch and spirits to strange-looking men, who come to the house to read the newspapers and talk politics. In this place may be seen in turn most of the respectable inhabitants of the town. There is a public breakfast at half-past seven o’clock, and a dinner at two o’clock, but to get anything in one’s own room is impossible.” Let us digress and note the happy return of this man to English soil. On his way back to Halifax to join his command, he crossed from Maine to Nova Scotia, stopping in the little town of Windsor. He writes: “Never in my whole life did I more fully appreciate the benefits of our good English customs, or feel in better humor with my country in general, than when I sat down in a clean parlor by myself, to the snug dinner prepared for me by the widow Wilcocks, landlady of a comfortable inn in the good town of Windsor. How different from an American table d’hote! where you are deafened by the clamor, and disgusted by the selfish gluttony of your companions; where you must either bolt your victuals, or starve, from the ravenous rapidity with which everything is dispatched; and where the inattention of the servants is only equalled by their insolence and familiarity.”

Englishmen never forgot that the United States was a brilliant gem plucked from the British crown, and the vein of sarcasm and resentment running through books of travel written by them about this time is apparent; so that their descriptions and opinions should be taken with some allowance for this feeling. Nevertheless, there was a foundation of truth in many of the disagreeable things they said, which made them, on that account, the more irritating to the people of the United States.

About the year 1818 or 1820, there was living for a time at the Washington Hotel, or as it was more generally called Washington Hall, Captain Wilson, of the British army, who, in conversation one day at dinner, remarked that he had been mainly instrumental in bringing about the duel between Major Green and Benjamin Price, and detailed the circumstances leading to it. A few years before this, Benjamin Price, a brother of Stephen Price, lessee and manager of the Park Theater, was at the theatre one evening in the company of a very handsome woman. In the adjoining box was Major Green, a British officer, who took the liberty of turning and staring the lady full in the face, which annoyed her and of which she complained to Price, who, on a repetition of the offense, reached over, caught the officer by the nose and gave it a vigorous twist. The officer soon after knocked at the door of Price’s box, and when he opened it asked him with charming simplicity what he meant by such behavior, at the same time declaring that he had intended no offense, that he had not meant to insult the lady by what he had done. “Oh, very well,” replied Price, “neither did I mean to insult you by what I did.” Upon this they shook hands and it was supposed that the matter was settled and ended. When Major Green returned to his command in Canada the story of this affair followed him or had preceded him and was soon the subject of discussion among his comrades. It was brought to the attention of his brother officers, one of whom, Captain Wilson, insisted that Green should be sent to Coventry unless he returned to New York and challenged Price. This he did after practising with a pistol for five hours a day until he considered himself sufficiently expert. They fought at Weehawken on Sunday, May 12, 1816. Price was killed at the first fire. Spectators viewed the transaction from the neighboring rocks, and a more horrible sight could not have been imagined. The seconds ran off, and Green look a small boat, crossed the river and boarded a vessel about to sail for England.

When the news that Captain Wilson was at the Washington Hotel and a statement of what he had said were carried to Stephen Price, who was lying ill of the gout at his home, his friends say that he obeyed implicitly the instructions of his physician and thereby obtained a short cessation of the gout so that he was able to hobble out of doors, his lower extremities swaddled in flannel. As soon as possible he made his way to the Washington Hotel, where he inquired for Captain Wilson. Ascertaining that he was in, he requested to be shown to his room. With a stout hickory cane in his hand he hobbled upstairs, cursing with equal vehemence the captain and the gout. Arriving at the room, as the captain rose to receive him he said: “Are you Captain Wilson?” “That is my name,” replied the captain. “Sir,” said he, “my name is Stephen Price. You see, sir, that I can scarcely put one foot before the other. I am afflicted with the gout, but sir, I have come here with the deliberate intention of insulting you. Shall I have to knock you down or will you consider what I have said a sufficient insult for the purpose?” “Sir,” replied the captain, smiling, “I shall consider what you have said quite sufficient and shall act accordingly. You shall hear from me.” In due time there came a message from Captain Wilson to Stephen Price; time, place and weapons were appointed. Early one morning, a few days later, a barge left the city in which were seated Stephen Price, Captain Wilson and two friends. They all landed on Bedlow’s Island. Captain Wilson never returned. He fell dead at the first fire. His body was buried on the island and many of his friends thought that he had been lost or died suddenly at sea.

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