CHAPTER IV

LIFE AT THE BEGINNING OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

The _Pittsburgh Gazette_ was devoted to the interests of the Federal

party, and Brackenridge and the other leading Republicans felt the need

of a newspaper of their own. The result was the establishment on August

16, 1800, of the _Tree of Liberty_, by John Israel, who was already

publishing a newspaper, called the _Herald of Liberty_, in Washington,

Pennsylvania. The title of the new paper was intended to typify its

high mission. The significance of the name was further indicated in

the conspicuously displayed motto, “And the leaves of the tree were

for the healing of the nations.” The Federalists, and more especially

their organ, the _Pittsburgh Gazette_,[84] charged Brackenridge with

being the owner of the new paper, and with being responsible for

its utterances. Brackenridge, however, has left a letter in which he

refuted this statement, and alleged that originally he intended to

establish a newspaper, but on hearing of Israel’s intention gave up the

idea.[85]

The extent of the comforts and luxuries enjoyed in Pittsburgh was

surprising. The houses, whether built of logs, or frame, or brick,

were comfortable, even in winter. In the kitchens were large open

fire-places, where wood was burned. The best coal fuel was plentiful.

Although stoves were invented barely half a century earlier, and were

in general use only in the larger cities, the houses in Pittsburgh

could already boast of many. There were cannon stoves, so called

because of their upright cylindrical, cannon-like shape, and Franklin

or open stoves, invented by Benjamin Franklin; the latter graced the

parlor. Grates were giving out their cheerful blaze. They were also in

use in some of the rooms of the new court house, and in the new jail.

The advertisements of the merchants told the story of what the people

ate and drank, and of the materials of which their clothing was made.

Articles of food were in great variety. In the stores were tea, coffee,

red and sugar almonds, olives, chocolate, spices of all kinds, muscatel

and keg raisins, dried peas, and a score of other luxuries, besides the

ordinary articles of consumption. The gentry of England, as pictured

in the pages of the old romances, did not have a greater variety of

liquors to drink. There were Madeira, sherry, claret, Lisbon, port, and

Teneriffe wines, French and Spanish brandies,[86] Jamaica and antique

spirits.[87] Perrin DuLac, who visited Pittsburgh in 1802, said these

liquors were the only articles sold in the town that were dear.[88] But

not all partook of the luxuries. Bread and meat, and such vegetables

as were grown in the neighborhood, constituted the staple articles

of food, and homemade whisky was the ordinary drink of the majority

of the population. The native fruits were apples and pears, which

had been successfully propagated since the early days of the English

occupation.[89]

Materials for men’s and women’s clothing were endless in variety

and design and consisted of cloths, serges, flannels, brocades,

jeans, fustians, Irish linens, cambrics, lawns, nankeens, ginghams,

muslins, calicos, and chintzes. Other articles were tamboured

petticoats, tamboured cravats, silk and cotton shawls, wreaths and

plumes, sunshades and parasols, black silk netting gloves, white

and salmon-colored long and short gloves, kid and morocco shoes and

slippers, men’s beaver, tanned, and silk gloves, men’s cotton and

thread caps, and silk and cotton hose.

Men were changing their dress along with their political opinions. One

of the consequences in the United States of the French Revolution was

to cause the effeminate and luxurious dress in general use to give way

to simpler and less extravagant attire. The rise of the Republican

party and the class distinctions which it was responsible for

engendering, more than any other reason, caused the men of affairs--the

merchants, the manufacturers, the lawyers, the physicians, and the

clergymen--to discard the old fashions and adopt new ones. Cocked hats

gave way to soft or stiff hats, with low square crowns and straight

brims. The fashionable hats were the beaver made of the fur of the

beaver, the castor made of silk in imitation of the beaver, and the

roram made of felt, with a facing of beaver fur felted in. Coats of

blue, green, and buff, and waistcoats of crimson, white, or yellow,

were superseded by garments of soberer colors. Coats continued to be as

long as ever, but the tails were cut away in front. Knee-breeches were

succeeded by tight-fitting trousers reaching to the ankles; low-buckled

shoes, by high-laced leather shoes, or boots. Men discontinued wearing

cues, and their hair was cut short, and evenly around the head. There

were of course exceptions. Many men of conservative temperament still

clung to the old fashions. A notable example in Pittsburgh was the

Rev. Robert Steele, who always appeared in black satin knee-breeches,

knee-buckles, silk stockings, and pumps.[90]

The farmers on the plantations surrounding Pittsburgh and the mechanics

in the borough were likewise affected by the movement for dress reform.

Their apparel had always been less picturesque than that of the

business and professional men. Now the ordinary dress of the farmers

and mechanics consisted of short tight-fitting round-abouts, or

sailor’s jackets, made in winter of cloth or linsey, and in summer of

nankeen, dimity, gingham, or linen. Sometimes the jacket was without

sleeves, the shirt being heavy enough to afford protection against

inclement weather. The trousers were loose-fitting and long, and

extended to the ankles, and were made of nankeen, tow, or cloth. Some

men wore blanket-coats. Overalls, of dimity, nankeen, and cotton, were

the especial badge of mechanics. The shirt was of tow or coarse linen,

the vest of dimity. On their feet, farmers and mechanics alike wore

coarse high-laced shoes, half-boots, or boots made of neat’s leather.

The hats were soft, of fur or wool, and were low and round-crowned, or

the crowns were high and square.

The inhabitants of Pittsburgh were pleasure-loving, and the time not

devoted to business was given over to the enjoyments of life. Men and

women alike played cards. Whisk, as whist was called, and Boston were

the ordinary games.[91] All classes and nationalities danced, and

dancing was cultivated as an art. Dancing masters came to Pittsburgh

to give instructions, and adults and children alike took lessons.

In winter public balls and private assemblies were given. The dances

were more pleasing to the senses than any ever seen in Pittsburgh,

except the dances of the recent revival of the art. The cotillion was

executed by an indefinite number of couples, who performed evolutions

or figures as in the modern german. Other dances were the minuet, the

_menuet à la cour_, and jigs. The country dance, generally performed by

eight persons, four men and four women, comprised a variety of steps,

and a surprising number of evolutions, of which liveliness was the

characteristic.

The taverns had rooms set apart for dances. The “Sign of the Green

Tree,”[92] had an “Assembly Room”; the “Sign of General Butler”[93] and

the “Sign of the Waggon”[94] each had a “Ball Room.” The small affairs

were given in the homes of the host or hostess, and the large ones in

the taverns, or in the grand-jury room of the new court house.

The dancing masters gave “Practicing Balls” at which the cotillion

began at seven o’clock, and the ball concluded with the country

dance, which was continued until twelve o’clock.[95] Dancing became

so popular and to such an extent were dancing masters in the eyes

of the public that William Irwin christened his race horse “Dancing

Master.”[96] The ball given to General Lee was talked about for years

after the occurrence. Its beauties were pictured by many fair lips.

The ladies recalled the soldierly bearing of the guest of honor, the

tall robust form of General Daniel Morgan, Lee’s second in command, and

the commander of the Virginia troops, famous as the hero of Quebec and

Saratoga, who had received the thanks of Congress for his victory at

Cowpens. They dwelt on the varicolored uniforms of the soldiers, the

bright colors worn by the civilians, their powdered hair, the brocades,

and silks, and velvets of the ladies.

In winter evenings there were concerts and theatrical performances

which were generally given in the new court house. A unique concert

was that promoted by Peter Declary. It was heralded as a musical event

of importance. Kotzwara’s _The Battle of Prague_, was performed on

the “forte piano” by one of Declary’s pupils, advertised as being

only eight years of age; President Jefferson’s march was another

conspicuous feature. The exhibition concluded with a ball.[97]

Comedy predominated in the theatrical performances. The players were

“the young gentlemen of the town.” At one of the entertainments they

gave John O’Keefe’s comic opera _The Poor Soldier_, and a farce by

Arthur Murphy called _The Apprentice_.[98] There were also performances

of a more professional character. Bromley and Arnold, two professional

actors, conducted a series of theatrical entertainments extending over

a period of several weeks. The plays which they rendered are hardly

known to-day. At a single performance[99] they gave a comedy entitled

_Trick upon Trick_, or _The Vintner in the Suds_; a farce called _The

Jealous Husband_, or _The Lawyer in the Sack_; and a pantomime, _The

Sailor’s Landlady_, or _Jack in Distress_. Another play in the series

was Edward Moore’s tragedy, _The Gamester_.[100]

Much of Grant’s Hill was unenclosed. Clumps of trees grew on its

irregular surface, and there were level open spaces; and in summer

the place was green with grass, and bushes grew in profusion. Farther

in the background were great forest trees. The hill was the pleasure

ground of the village. Judge Henry M. Brackenridge, a son of Judge

Hugh Henry Brackenridge dwelling on the past, declared that “it was

pleasing to see the line of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen and

children, ... repairing to the beautiful green eminence.”[101] On

this elevation “under a bower, on the margin of a wood, and near a

delightful spring, with the town of Pittsburgh in prospect,” the Fourth

of July celebrations were held.[102] On August 2, 1794, the motley army

of Insurgents from Braddocksfield rested there, after having marched

through the town. Here they were refreshed with food and whisky, in

order that they might keep in good humor, and to prevent their burning

the town.[103]

Samuel Jones has left an intimate, if somewhat regretful account of

the early social life of Pittsburgh. “The long winter evenings,” he

wrote, “were passed by the humble villagers at each other’s homes, with

merry tale and song, or in simple games; and the hours of night sped

lightly onward with the unskilled, untiring youth, as they threaded

the mazes of the dance, guided by the music of the violin, from which

some good-humored rustic drew his Orphean sounds. In the jovial time

of harvest and hay-making, the sprightly and active of the village

participated in the rural labors and the hearty pastimes, which

distinguished that happy season. The balls and merry-makings that were

so frequent in the village were attended by all without any particular

deference to rank or riches. No other etiquette than that which natural

politeness prescribed was exacted or expected.... Young fellows might

pay their _devoirs_ to their female acquaintances; ride, walk, or talk

with them, and pass hours in their society without being looked upon

with suspicion by parents, or slandered by trolloping gossips.”[104]

The event of autumn was the horse races, which lasted three days. They

were held in the northeasterly extremity of the town between Liberty

Street and the Allegheny River,[105] and were conducted under the

auspices of the Jockey Club which had been in existence for many years.

Sportsmen came from all the surrounding country. The races were under

the saddle, sulkies not having been invented. Racing proprieties

were observed, and jockeys were required to be dressed in jockey

habits.[106] Purses were given. The horses compared favorably with race

horses of a much later day. A prominent horse was “Young Messenger” who

was sired by “Messenger,” the most famous trotting horse in America,

which had been imported into Philadelphia from England in 1788, and was

the progenitor of Rysdyk’s Hambletonian, Abdallah, Goldsmith Maid, and

a score of other noted race horses.

A third of a century after the race course had been removed beyond

the limits of the municipality, Judge Henry M. Brackenridge published

his recollections of the entrancing sport. “It was then an affair

of all-engrossing interest, and every business or pursuit was

neglected.... The whole town was daily poured forth to witness the

Olympian games.... The plain within the course and near it was filled

with booths as at a fair, where everything was said, and done, and

sold, and eaten or drunk, where every fifteen or twenty minutes there

was a rush to some part, to witness a fisticuff--where dogs barked and

bit, and horses trod on men’s toes, and booths fell down on people’s

heads!”[107]

The social instincts of the people found expression in another

direction. The Revolutionary War, the troubles with the Indians, the

more or less strained relations existing between France and England,

had combined to inbreed a military spirit. Pennsylvania, with a

population, in 1800, of 602,365, had enrolled in the militia 88,707 of

its citizens. The militia was divided into light infantry, riflemen,

grenadiers, cavalry, and artillery.[108] Allegheny County had a brigade

of militia, consisting of eight regiments.[109] The commander was

General Alexander Fowler, an old Englishman who had served in America,

in the 18th, or Royal Irish, Regiment of Foot. On the breaking out of

the Revolutionary War, he had resigned his commission on account of his

sympathy with the Americans. Being unfit for active service, Congress

appointed him Auditor of the Western Department at Pittsburgh.

The militia had always been more or less permeated with partisan

politics. During the Revolution the American officers wore a cockade

with a black ground and a white relief, called the black cockade. This

the Federalists had made their party emblem. The Republican party,

soon after its organization, adopted as a badge of party distinction a

cockade of red and blue on a white base, the colors of revolutionary

France. The red and blue cockade thereafter became the distinguishing

mark of the majority of the Pennsylvania militia, being adopted on

the recommendation of no less a person than Governor McKean. General

Fowler’s advocacy of the red and blue cockade and his disparagement

of the black cockade were incessant. He was an ardent Republican, and

his effusions with their classic allusions filled many columns of the

_Tree of Liberty_ and the _Pittsburgh Gazette_. At a meeting of the

Allegheny County militia held at Marie’s tavern, the red and blue

cockade had been adopted. Fowler claimed that this was the result of

public sentiment. He was fond of platitudes. “The voice of the people

is the voice of God,” he quoted, crediting the proverb to an “English

commentator,” and adding: “Says a celebrated historian, ‘individuals

may err, but the voice of the people is infallible.’”[110] A strong

minority in Allegheny County remained steadfast to the Federal party,

and the vote in favor of the adoption of the red and blue cockade was

not unanimous. Two of the regiments, not to be engulfed in the growing

wave of Republicanism, or overawed by the domineering disposition of

General Fowler, opposed the adoption of the red and blue cockade, and

chose the black cockade.[111]

The equipment furnished to the militia by the State was meagre, but

the patriotism which had so lately won the country’s independence was

still at flood tide, and each regiment was supplied with two silk

standards. One was the national flag, the other the regimental colors.

The national emblem differed somewhat from the regulation United States

flag. The word “Pennsylvania” appeared on the union, with the number

of the regiment, the whole being encircled by thirteen white stars.

The fly of the regimental colors was dark blue; on this was painted an

eagle with extended wings supporting the arms of the State. The union

was similar to that of the national flag. The prescribed uniform which

many of the men, however, did not possess, was a blue coat faced with

red, with a lining of white or red. In Allegheny County a round hat

with the cockade and buck’s tail, was worn.[112] The parade ground of

the militia was the level part of Grant’s Hill which adjoined Marie’s

tavern on the northeast. Here twice each year, in April and October,

the militia received its training. Of no minor interest, was the social

life enjoyed by officers and men alike, during the annual assemblages.

In the territory contiguous to Pittsburgh the uprising, for the right

to manufacture whisky without paying the excise, had its inception.

That taverns should abound in the town was a natural consequence.

In 1808 the public could be accommodated at twenty-four different

taverns.[113] The annual license fee for taverns, including the clerk’s

charges, was barely twenty dollars. Through some mental legerdemain of

the lawmakers it had been enacted that if more than a quart was sold

no license was required. Liquors, and particularly whisky, were sold

in nearly every mercantile establishment. Also beer had been brewed

in Pittsburgh since an early day, at the “Point Brewery,” which was

purchased in 1795 by Smith and Shiras.[114] Beer was likewise brewed

in a small way by James Yeaman, two or three years later.[115] In

February, 1803, O’Hara and Coppinger, who had acquired the “Point

Brewery,” began brewing beer on a larger scale.[116]

In the taverns men met to consummate their business, and to discuss

their political and social affairs. Lodge No. 45 of Ancient York Masons

met in the taverns for many years, as did the Mechanical Society. Even

the Board of Trustees of the Academy held their meetings there.[117]

Religion itself, looked with a friendly eye on the taverns. In the

autumn of 1785, the Rev. Wilson Lee, a Methodist missionary, appeared

in Pittsburgh, and preached in John Ormsby’s tavern,[118] on Water

Street, at his ferry landing,[119] at what is now the northeast corner

of that street and Ferry Street. This was the same double log house

which, while conducted by Samuel Semple, was in 1770 patronized by

Colonel George Washington.[120]

Tavern keeping and liquor selling were of such respectability that

many of the most esteemed citizens were, or had been tavern-keepers,

or had sold liquors, or distilled whisky, or brewed beer. Jeremiah

Sturgeon was a member of the session of the Presbyterian Church.[121]

John Reed, the proprietor of the “Sign of the Waggon,” in addition to

being a leading member of the Jockey Club, and the owner of the race

horse “Young Messenger,”[122] was precentor in the Presbyterian Church,

and on Sundays “lined out the hymns” and led the singing.[123] The pew

of William Morrow is marked on the diagram of the ground-plan of the

church as printed in its _Centennial Volume_.[124] The “Sign of the

Cross Keys,” the emblem of Sturgeon’s tavern, was of religious origin

and was much favored in England. Although used by a Presbyterian, it

was the arms of the Papal See, and the emblem of St. Peter and his

successors. That the way to salvation lay through the door of the

tavern, would seem to have been intended to be indicated by the “Sign

of the Cross Keys.” William Eichbaum, a pillar in the German church,

after he left the employ of O’Hara and Craig, conducted a tavern on

Front Street, near Market, at the “Sign of the Indian Queen.” The

owners of the ferries kept taverns in connection with their ferries.

Ephraim Jones conducted a tavern at his ferry landing on the south side

of the Monongahela River; Robert Henderson had a tavern on Water Street

at his ferry landing; Samuel Emmett kept a tavern at his landing on the

south side of the Monongahela River; and James Robinson had a tavern on

the Franklin Road at the northerly terminus of his ferry.[125]

Drinking was universal among both men and women. Judge James Veech

declared that whisky “was the indispensable emblem of hospitality and

the accompaniment of labor in every pursuit, the stimulant in joy and

the solace in grief. It was kept on the counter of every store and in

the corner cupboard of every well-to-do family. The minister partook of

it before going to church, and after he came back. At home and abroad,

at marryings and buryings, at house raisings and log rollings, at

harvestings and huskings, it was the omnipresent beverage of old and

young, men and women; and he was a churl who stinted it. To deny it

altogether required more grace or niggardliness than most men could

command, at least for daily use.”[126]

A practical joke perpetrated by the Rev. Dr. John McMillan, on the

Rev. Joseph Patterson, another of the early ministers in this region,

illustrates the custom of drinking among the clergy. On their way to

attend a meeting of the Synod, the two men stopped at a wayside inn

and called for whisky, which was set before them. Mr. Patterson asked

a blessing which was rather lengthy. Dr. McMillan meanwhile drank the

whisky, and to Mr. Patterson’s blank look remarked blandly, “You must

watch as well as pray!”[127]

Families purchased whisky and laid it away in their cellars for future

consumption, and that it might improve with age. Judge Hugh Henry

Brackenridge declared that the visit of the “Whisky Boys”--as the

Insurgents from Braddocksfield were called--to Pittsburgh cost him

“four barrels of old whisky.”[128] The statement caused Henry Adams, in

his life of Albert Gallatin, to volunteer the assertion that it nowhere

appeared “how much whisky the western gentleman usually kept in his

house.”[129]

There was no legislation against selling liquors on Sundays. The

only law on the subject was an old one under which persons found

drinking and tippling in ale-houses, taverns, and other public houses

on Sundays, were liable to be fined one shilling and sixpence; and

the keepers of the houses upon conviction were required to pay ten

shillings. The line of demarcation between proper and improper drinking

being faint, the law proved ineffectual to prevent drinking on Sundays.

Religion had not kept pace with material progress. The people had been

too much engrossed in secular affairs to attend to spiritual matters.

They were withal generous, and practiced the Christian virtues; and

never failed to help their unfortunate neighbors. This disposition was

manifested in various ways. Losses by fire were of frequent occurrence

and were apt to cause distress or ruin to those affected. In these

cases the citizens always furnished relief. An instance where this was

done was in the case of William Thorn. Thorn was a cabinet-maker on

Market Street, and built windmills and Dutch fans.[130] When the house

which he occupied was burned to the ground and he lost all his tools

and valuable ready-made furniture, a liberal subscription was made by

the citizens, and he was enabled to again commence his business.[131]

But there was little outward observance of religious forms. The Germans

had made some progress in that direction. The little log building where

they worshipped had been succeeded by a brick church. The only English

church was the Presbyterian Meeting House facing on Virgin Alley, now

Oliver Avenue, erected in 1786. It was the same building of squared

timbers in which the congregation had originally worshipped. From

1789 to 1793, the church had languished greatly. There was no regular

pastor; services were held at irregular and widely separated intervals.

Two of the men who served as supplies left the ministry and became

lawyers.[132] From 1793 to 1800, the church was all but dead. The

house was deserted and falling into ruin. Only once, so far as there

is any record, were Presbyterian services held in the building during

this period. It was in 1799 that the Rev. Francis Herron, passing

through Pittsburgh, was induced to deliver a sermon to a congregation

consisting of fifteen or eighteen persons “much to the annoyance of the

swallows,” as Herron ingenuously related, which had taken possession of

the premises.[133]

A light had flashed momentarily in the darkness when John Wrenshall,

the father of Methodism in Pittsburgh, settled in the town. Wrenshall

was an Englishman who came to Pittsburgh in 1796 and established

a mercantile business. He was converted to Wesleyanism in England

and had been a local preacher there. As there was no minister or

preaching of any kind in Pittsburgh, he commenced holding services in

the Presbyterian Meeting House. His audiences increased, but after

a few Sundays of active effort, a padlock was placed on the door of

the church, and he was notified that the house was no longer at his

disposal. The Presbyterians might not hold services themselves, but

they would not permit the use of their building to adherents of the new

sect of Methodists, “the offspring of the devil.”

A great religious revival swept over the Western country in the

concluding years of the eighteenth century. In Kentucky it developed

into hysteria,[134] and in Western Pennsylvania the display of

religious fervor was scarcely less intense.[135] The effect was felt

in Pittsburgh. On October 24, 1800, the _Pittsburgh Gazette_ was moved

to ask the Presbyterian congregation, of which its proprietor was a

leading member, a number of pertinent questions: Could they hope for

good morals without religion or the fear of God; could religion be

maintained without public worship; had they a house in which public

worship could be performed with decency and convenience? Were they

not able to erect a respectable and commodious church building, as

well as to provide for the maintenance of a minister? Would not money

so employed “be more for the benefit of the town than horse racing,

billiard playing, etc., etc.?” The answer of the congregation was to

procure the appointment of the Rev. Robert Steele as supply and the

church began to show signs of life again. In April, 1802, Steele was

received as a member of the Presbytery, the action being approved by

the Synod in the following September.[136] From that time forward, the

church began that spiritual and material advancement--although there

were ebbs and flows in its progress--which has continued to this day.

REFERENCES

Pittsburgh · 第 7 / 18 章