houses of refuge scattered through the New England settlements, into
which the inhabitants might fly for safety upon any sudden alarm of
danger from the savages.
The situation was well chosen for security. It has the river in front,
marshes to the eastward and a considerable extent of level meadow
behind it. As it was from this latter quarter that an attack was most
to be apprehended, greater precautions were taken to secure that side.
The house itself is placed a little above the general level. Standing
for a century and a half in the midst of an extensive and open field,
enclosed by palisades and guarded with gates, a foe could not approach
unseen by day, nor find a vantage-ground from which to assail the
inmates. Here, then, the agents of Matthew Cradock, first Governor
of the Massachusetts Company in England, built the house we are now
describing.
In the office of the Secretary of the Commonwealth, at Boston, hangs
the charter of “The Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay
in New England,” brought over by Winthrop in 1630. The great seal
of England, a most ponderous and convincing symbol of authority, is
appended to it.
It is well known that the settlement at Salem, two years earlier,
under the leadership of Endicott, was begun by a commercial company
in England, of which Matthew Cradock was Governor. In order to secure
the emigration of such men as Winthrop, Dudley, Sir R. Saltonstall,
Johnson, and others, Cradock proposed in July, 1629, to transfer the
government from the company in England to the inhabitants here. As
he was the wealthiest and most influential person in the association,
his proposal was acceded to.
[Illustration: THE CRADOCK HOUSE, MEDFORD, MASS.]
We cannot enter here, into the political aspects of this _coup d’état_.
It must ever arrest the attention and challenge the admiration of
the student of American history. In defiance of the crown, which had
merely organized them into a mercantile corporation, like the East
India Company, with officers resident in England, they proceeded to
nullify the clear intent of their charter by removing the government to
America. The project was first mooted by Cradock, and secrecy enjoined
upon the members of the Company. That he was the avowed author of it
must be our apology for introducing the incident. This circumstance
renders Matthew Cradock’s name conspicuous in the annals of New
England.
Cradock never came to America, but there is little doubt that he
entertained the purpose of doing so. He sent over, however, agents,
or “servants,” as they were styled, who established the plantation
at Mystic Side. He also had houses at Ipswich and at Marblehead for
fishery and traffic.
For a shrewd man of business Cradock seems to have been singularly
unfortunate in some of his servants. One of these, Philip Ratcliff,
being convicted “_ore tenus_ of most foul and slanderous invectives”
against the churches and government, was sentenced to be whipped, lose
his ears, and be banished the plantation. Winthrop was complained of by
Dudley because he stayed the execution of the sentence of banishment,
but answered that it was on the score of humanity, as it was winter and
the man must have perished. Ratcliff afterwards, in conjunction with
Thomas Morton and Sir Christopher Gardiner, procured a petition to the
Lords of the Privy Council, before whom Cradock was summoned.
Wood, one of the early chroniclers, tells us that Master Cradock had a
park impaled at Mystic, where his cattle were kept until it could be
stocked with deer; and that he also was engaged in ship-building, a
vessel of a “hundred tunne” having been built the previous year (1632).
It may be, too, that Cradock’s artisans built here for Winthrop the
little “Blessing of the Bay,” launched upon the Mystic tide, July 4,
1631,--an event usually located at the Governor’s farm, at Ten Hills.
This house, a unique specimen of the architecture of the early
settlers, must be considered a gem of its kind. It is not disguised
by modern alterations in any essential feature, but bears its
credentials on its face. Two hundred and sixty odd New England
winters have searched every cranny of the old fortress, whistled down
the big chimney-stacks, rattled the window-panes in impotent rage,
and, departing, certified to us the staunch and trusty handiwork of
Cradock’s English craftsmen.
Time has dealt gently with this venerable relic. Like a veteran of
many campaigns, it shows a few honourable scars. The roof has swerved
a little from its true outline. It has been denuded of a chimney and
has parted reluctantly with a dormer-window. The loopholes, seen in the
front, were long since closed; the race they were to defend against has
hardly an existence to-day. The windows have been enlarged, with an
effect on the _ensemble_, as Hawthorne says in a similar case, of
rouging the cheeks of one’s grandmother. Hoary with age, it is yet no
ruin, but a comfortable habitation.
How many generations of men--and our old house has seldom if ever been
untenanted--have lived and died within those walls! When it was built
Charles I. reigned in Old England and Cromwell had not begun his great
career. Peter the Great was not then born, and the house was waxing in
years when Frederick the Great appeared on the stage. We seem to be
speaking of recent events when Louis XVI. suffered by the axe of the
guillotine and Napoleon’s sun rose in splendour to set in obscurity.
The Indian, who witnessed its slowly ascending walls with wonder and
misgiving; the Englishman, whose axe wakened new echoes in the primeval
forest; the Colonist native to the soil, who battled and died within
view to found a new nation,--all have passed away. But here, in this
old mansion, is the silent evidence of those great epochs of history.
It is not clear at what time the house was erected, but it has usually
been fixed at 1634, when a large grant of land was made to Cradock
by the General Court. The bricks are said to have been burned near
by. There was some attempt at ornament, the lower course of the belt
being laid with moulded bricks so as to form a cornice. The loopholes
were for defence. The walls were half a yard in thickness. Heavy iron
bars secured the arched windows at the back, and the entrance door was
encased in iron. The fire-proof closets, huge chimney-stacks, and
massive hewn timbers told of strength and durability. A single pane of
glass, set in iron and placed in the back wall of the western chimney,
overlooked the approach from the town.
The builders were Englishmen, and, of course, followed their English
types. They named their towns and villages after the sounding
nomenclature of Old England; and what more natural than that they
should wish their homes to resemble those they had left behind? Such a
house might have served an inhabitant of the Scottish border, with its
loopholes, narrow windows and doors sheathed in iron. Against an Indian
foray it was impregnable.
Cradock was about the only man connected with the settlement in
Massachusetts Bay whose means admitted of such a house. Both Winthrop
and Dudley built of wood, and the former rebuked the deputy for what
he thought an unreasonable expense in finishing his own house. Many
brick buildings were erected in Boston during the first decade of the
settlement, but we have found none that can claim such an ancient
pedigree as this of which we are writing. It is far from improbable
that, having in view a future residence in New England, Cradock may
have given directions for or prescribed the plan of this house, and
that it may have been the counterpart of his own in St. Swithen’s Lane,
near London Stone.
“Then went I forth by London Stone
Throughout all Canwick Street.”
The plantation, with its green meadows and its stately forest-trees,
was a manor of which Cradock was lord and master. His grant extended a
mile into the country from the river-side in all places. Though absent,
he was considered nominally present, and is constantly alluded to by
name in the early records. Cradock was a member of the Long Parliament,
dying in 1641. The euphonious name of Mystic has been supplanted by
Medford, the Meadford of Dudley and the rest.
It is not to be expected that a structure belonging to so remote a
period for New England, should be without its legendary lore. It is
related that the old fort was at one time beleaguered for several days
by an Indian war party, who at length retired baffled from the strong
walls and death-shots of the garrison. As a veracious historian, we
are compelled to add that we know of no authentic data of such an
occurrence.
FRAUNCES’ TAVERN
WILLIAM J. DAVIS
Fraunces’[3] Tavern, corner of Broad and Pearl Streets, was
Washington’s quarters, on the evacuation of the city by the British
troops, 25th of November, 1783. This old mansion, around which some of
the most interesting reminiscences of our Revolutionary history are
connected, still remains, although somewhat altered from its original
appearance. It was erected about 1735 by the Delancey family, then one
of the most distinguished and opulent in New York, and was considered
equal in size and architectural display to any at that period in the
city.
As a tavern, it was the most noted in New York and was the resort of
the bloods of that day, who formed themselves into social clubs, and
among whom were some of the most active and distinguished men of the
Revolution. Samuel Fraunces, or as he was familiarly called, Black Sam
(in consequence of his swarthy complexion), was of French extraction,
and appears to have been a prince of a publican. He purchased the house
in 1762, from Oliver Delancey, for £2,000, provincial currency, but did
not open it as a public house until some time afterwards.
[Illustration: FRAUNCES’ TAVERN, NEW YORK]
The first notice of Sam that we have been able to discover, is an
advertisement in Parker’s _Post Boy_, February 5, 1761, by which
it appears that he not only acted as landlord but did considerable
business as a dealer in different kinds of preserves. Here is the
advertisement:
“To be sold at a very reasonable rate, by Samuel Francis, at the Sign
of the Masons’ Arms near the Green, New York, a small quantity of
portable soup, catchup, bottled gooseberries, pickled walnuts, pickled
or fryed oisters, fit to go to the West Indias, pickled mushrooms,
a large assortment of sweetmeats, such as currant jelly, marmalade,
quinces, grapes, strawberries and sundry other sorts.”
The Masons’ Arms was very popular under the management of Sam as a
Mead and Tea Garden, places much frequented by both sexes on pleasant
afternoons. On purchasing the Broad Street house, Sam sold out this,
and it is thus announced in the same paper:
“May 13, 1762, John Jones--Begs leave to acquaint the publick, That
he has removed to the house formerly kept by Samuel Francis, at the
Sign of the Masons’ Arms, next to Mr. Degrusia, in the Fields, where
he intends to give the same entertainment as formerly given by Mr.
Francis, and that in the best manner. Those Gentlemen and Ladies that
please to favour him with their company, may depend on the best usage
from their humble servant, John Jones.” He threw open Vauxhall Gardens,
which formerly stood in Greenwich Street, near the site afterwards
occupied by Stuart’s Sugar Refinery--but which he again resold in 1771,
and opened the much more celebrated tavern in Broad Street.
During the troubles which preceded the Revolution, Fraunces Tavern
seems to have been the resort of both Whig and Loyalist, political
affairs not having sufficient power to sever the social ties of those
whose custom it was to assemble there and discuss his Madeira, a
wine, the excellent quality of which Sam’s cellar stood proverbial.
It must not be presumed that Sam was an idle spectator of the events
then passing around him: his sympathies were with the Whigs, and he
became one of Washington’s most faithful friends and followers. It
was through the instrumentality of his daughter that the attempt to
poison Washington was frustrated, she being at that time housekeeper at
Richmond Hill, his quarters. This house was one of those which suffered
some injury from the broadside of the _Asia_ when she fired upon the
city. Freneau in one of his poems, thus speaks of it:
“Scarce a broadside was ended, till another began again--
By Jove! it was nothing but _Fire away Flannagan_!
Some thought him saluting his _Sally’s_ and _Nancy’s_
Till he drove a round shot thro’ the roof of _Sam Francis_.”
Notwithstanding this belligerent demonstration, the social club still
continued its weekly meetings for some time. A list of the members of
this club was found among the papers of the late John Moore, one of the
members and presented to the New York Historical Society, by his son,
Thos. W. C. Moore, which contains some very curious remarks which we
here insert in full.
“List of Members of the Social Club, which passed Saturday evenings
at Sam Francis’s corner of Broad and Dock Street, in winter, and in
summer at Kip’s Bay, where they built a neat, large room for the Club
House. The British landed at this spot the day they took the city, 15th
September, 1776.”
Members of this Club dispersed in December, 1775, and never afterwards
assembled.
John Jay (Disaffected) Became Member of Congress,
a Resident Minister
to Spain, Commissioner to
make peace, Chief Justice,
Minister to England, and
on his return, Governor of
New York--a good and
amiable man.
Gouveneur Morris „ Member of Congress, Minister
to France, etc.
Robt. R. Livingston „ Minister to France, Chancellor
of New York, etc.
Egbert Benson „ District Judge, New York,
and in the Legislature.
Good man.
Morgan Lewis „ Governor of New York
and a General in the war of
1812.
Gulian Verplanck „ but in Europe till 1783--President
of New York Bank.
John Livingston and but of no political importance.
his brother Henry „ went to the southward as a
James Seagrove „ merchant.
Francis Lewis „ but of no political importance.
John Watts „ doubtful--during the war
Recorder of New York.
Leonard Lispenard and but remained quiet at New
his brother Anthony „ York.
Rich’d Harrison (Loyal) but has since been Recorder
of New York.
John Hay „ an officer in the British
Army. Killed in West
ndies.
Peter Van Schaack „ a lawyer, remained quiet at
Kinderhook.
Daniel Ludlow „ during the war--since President
of Manhattan Bank.
Dr. S. Bard „ though in 1775 doubtful,
remained in New York--a
good man.
George Ludlow „ remained on Long Island in
quiet. A good man.
William his brother „ or supposed so--remained
on Long Island. Inoffensive
man.
William Imlay „ at first, but doubtful after
1777.
Edward Goold „ at New York all the war--a
merchant.
John Reade (Pro and Con) would have proved loyal,
no doubt, had not his wife’s
family been otherwise.
J. Stevens (Disaffected)
Henry Kelly, (Loyal) went to England and did not
return.
Stephen Rapelye turned out bad--died in the
New York Hospital.
John Moore Loyal --in public life all the war
and from year, 1765.
While the city was in possession of the British nothing of interest
seems to have transpired within the house. The 25th day of November,
1783, being the time fixed upon for the exodus of the British troops,
arrangements were made for the triumphal entry of Washington and the
American army to take possession of the city. On the morning of that
day,--a cold, frosty, but clear and brilliant morning--the troops
under General Knox encamped at Harlem, marched to the Bowery lane,
and halted at the present junction of Third Avenue and the Bowery.
There they remained until about one o’clock in the afternoon when the
British left their posts in that vicinity and marched to Whitehall. The
American troops followed, and before three o’clock General Knox took
formal possession of Fort George, amid the acclamations of thousands
of emancipated freemen and the roar of artillery upon the Battery.
Washington repaired to his quarters at Fraunces Tavern, and there,
during the afternoon, Governor Clinton gave a public dinner to the
officers of the army, and in the evening the town was brilliantly
illuminated. But the most remarkable event connected with the history
of the house and which has rendered it the greatest monument to
perpetuate the virtues and patriotism of Washington, is the fact that
in it he virtually resigned the charge which he had assumed on taking
command of the army. In the room on the second story occurred the
scene of his taking leave of his officers,--men who had suffered with
him in all the dangers and privations of that protracted struggle
which brought us liberty, devoted and ready to follow his lead in any
enterprise. What a noble spectacle does that scene present to the mind
for contemplation--how unlike other leaders in similar movements, who,
after having successfully obtained their purposes, seize the reins of
government, assisted by a victorious army and elevate themselves to the
supreme power by trampling upon the liberties of the people.
At this time great discontent existed throughout the army occasioned
by the coldness of Congress to the numerous petitions which had been
presented to obtain relief. The Newburgh letters proceeded from that
cause. Many of the best friends of America began to entertain doubts
as to the States being able to sustain themselves, and that anarchy
would rule. In view of this state of affairs, overtures had been made
to the chief to elect him king, but virtue was stronger than power; he
declined the proffer, with an admonition to those who offered it which
they could never forget.
The City of New York has made many futile attempts to erect to the
memory of Washington a suitable monument. It has already been done.
The preservation of Fraunces Tavern is the greatest monument that
can be conceived or erected. Let the demagogue who would barter the
liberties of his country for his personal aggrandizement visit it, and
stand within that room where the greatest of men resigned his power
and became a simple farmer again; and will not that bright example
bring him back to his duty again? It may become a second Mecca to bring
the faithful to behold the room in which occurred the scene of his
greatness and magnanimity.
On Thursday, December 4, 1783, the principal officers of the army
assembled at Fraunces’s to take a final leave of their beloved chief.
The scene is described as one of great tenderness. Washington entered
the room where they were all waiting, and, taking a glass of wine in
his hand, he said: “With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now
take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be
as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and
honourable.” Having drank, he continued: “I cannot come to each of
you to take my leave, but shall be obliged to you if each will come
and take me by the hand.” Knox, who stood nearest to him, turned and
grasped his hand, and, while the tears flowed down the cheeks of each,
the commander-in-chief kissed him. This he did to each of his officers,
while tears and sobs stifled utterance. Washington soon left the room,
and passing through a corps of light infantry, he walked in silence to
Whitehall, followed by a vast procession, and at two o’clock entered a
barge to proceed to Paulus Hook, on his way to _Mount Vernon_.
Sam Fraunces kept the house until 1785, when he sold it.
On the election of Washington to the Presidency, Sam was appointed
steward to his establishment. An anecdote is related of Sam, who was
always anxious to provide the first dainties of the season for the
General’s table. It appears that Sam, on making his purchases at the
old Fly Market, observed a fine shad, the first of the season; he was
not long in making the bargain, and it was sent home with his other
purchases. Next morning it was duly served up in Sam’s best style for
the General’s breakfast. The General on sitting down to the table
observed the fish and asked Sam what it was. He replied “that it was
a fine shad.” “It is very early in the season for them,” rejoined
the General, “how much did you pay for it?” “Two dollars,” said Sam.
“Two dollars! I can never encourage this extravagance at my table,”
replied Washington, “take it away--I will not touch it.” The shad was
accordingly removed, and Sam, who had no such economical scruples, made
a hearty meal on the fish at his own table.
WILLIAM AND MARY COLLEGE
JOHN FISKE[4]
This college was established in 1693, with Blair for its president.
Governor Nicholson, with seventeen other persons appointed by the
assembly, formed the board of trustees. From the outset Nicholson
was warmly in sympathy with the enterprise, but now this friend was
called away for a time. In the anti-Catholic fervour which attended the
accession of King William and Queen Mary, the palatinate government
in Maryland had been overturned and the new Royal Governor Sir Lionel
Copley, died in 1693. Nicholson was then promoted from Deputy-Governor
of Virginia to be Governor of Maryland. About the same time Lord Howard
of Effingham resigned or was removed, and Sir Edmund Andros was sent
out to Virginia as Governor. It may seem a strange appointment in view
of the obloquy which Andros had incurred at the north. But in all these
appointments William III. seems to have acted upon a consistent policy
of not disturbing, except in cases of necessity, the state of things
which he found. As a rule he retained in his service the old officials
against whom no grave charges were brought; and while the personality
of Andros was not prepossessing, there can be no doubt as to his
integrity.
Nicholson’s career as Royal Governor of Maryland lasted until 1698,
while Andros was having a hard time in Virginia trying to enforce with
rigour the Navigation Act and to make life miserable for Dr. Blair.
His conduct was far more moderate than it had been in New England,
but he had his full share of trouble in Virginia. The moving cause of
his hostility to the College of William and Mary is not distinctly
assigned, but he is not unlikely to have believed, like many a dullard
of his stripe, that education is apt to encourage a seditious and
forward spirit. He did everything he could think of to thwart and
annoy President Blair. At the election of burgesses he predicted that
the establishment of a college would be sure to result in a terrible
increase of taxes. He tried to persuade subscribers to withhold the
payment of their subscriptions. He sought to arouse an absurd prejudice
against Scotchmen, for which it was rather late in the day. Finally he
connived at gross insults to the president and friends of the college.
Among the young men to whom Andros showed especial favour was Daniel
Parke, whose grandson, Daniel Parke Custis, is now remembered as the
first husband of Martha Washington. This young Daniel did some things
to which posterity could hardly point with pride. He is described as a
“sparkish gentleman,” or as some would say, a slashing blade. He was
an expert with the rapier, and anxious to thrust it between the ribs
of people who supported the college. His challenges were numerous,
but clergymen could not be reached in such a way. So “he set up a
claim to the pew in church in which Mrs. Blair sat, and one Sunday,”
as we are told, “with fury and violence he pulled her out of it in the
presence of the minister and congregation, who were greatly scandalized
at this ruffian and profane action.”[5]
[Illustration: WILLIAM AND MARY COLLEGE, WILLIAMSBURG, VA.]
This was going too far. The stout Scotchman had powerful friends in
London; the outrage was discussed in Lambeth Palace; and Sir Edmund
Andros, for winking at such behaviour, was removed. He was evidently a
slow-witted official. His experiences in Boston, with Parson Willard
of the Old South, ought to have cured him of his propensity to quarrel
with aggressive and resolute clergymen. For two or three years after
going home, Sir Edmund governed the little channel island of Jersey,
and the rest of his days were spent in retirement, until his death in
1714.