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."
[Sidenote: General Jackson's Toast]
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.
[Illustration: DeWitt Clinton]
[Sidenote: The Erie Canal]
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.
[Sidenote: The First Savings Bank]
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.
[Sidenote: What Englishmen Said About the City Hotel]
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.
[Sidenote: The Price-Wilson Duel]
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.
XIV
ROAD HOUSES
[Sidenote: Prejudice Against Dancing]
We have the evidence of persons who lived in the early part of the
nineteenth century that among the old Dutch and Puritan families there was
a strong prejudice against dancing, especially by young ladies in public
places, and there is hardly a doubt that this was much increased by the
introduction of the waltz, quite different from the dancing of old
colonial days. Notwithstanding this, we find that in the accounts of the
balls given on important occasions there does not seem to have been any
disinclination to indulge in this pleasing diversion. There were dancing
masters, and shortly after the erection of Washington Hall and Tammany
Hall they were both being used by the instructors of dancing, and they
held in them their "publics," which appear to have been well attended.
Concerts, as formerly, were generally followed by balls.
[Sidenote: Bachelors' Ball]
Like the old Province Arms of colonial days, the City Hotel was used for a
great many years for the assembly balls. These continued to be held here
until after the close of the war of 1812, but a few years later seem to
have ceased. It was about this time that, as related by Abram C. Dayton,
the old ladies defeated the young men in a contest over dancing. The young
men gave a series of sociables at the City Hotel, at which none but
subscribers were admitted. Although very select, the old ladies, backed by
the minister, denounced them. "The battle for supremacy was bravely waged
on both sides, but the old ladies beat Young America and the City Hotel
sociables were discontinued." But it was only a lull. Some years later the
social feature was the annual ball given by the young men known as the
Bachelors' Ball. It was the social event of each winter and exceeded
anything of the kind ever previously attempted, being very select and
gotten up with great care. All the managers wore knee breeches, silk
stockings and pumps. The most noted of these was the Bachelors' Grand
Fancy Ball given at the City Hotel on the 18th of March, 1831, which had
long been the theme of conversation and the subject of preparation. Philip
Hone, in his diary, says that "no expectations had been formed which were
not realized by the results. My daughter Mary went as Sweet Anne Page and
looked lovely in the part of Leslie's inimitable picture." Later the
Bachelors' Balls were given on the evening of St. Valentine's Day. The
tickets, printed on cardboard from elaborately engraved plates, were sold
at ten dollars each.
[Sidenote: The Forum]
For the entertainment of those opposed to dancing there were meetings of
the Forum, which were in 1817 at Mechanics' Hall, corner of Broadway and
Park Place, and later at the City Hotel on Friday evenings. The exercises
consisted of debates and addresses and the tickets of admission were sold
at two shillings each, the debate commencing promptly at seven o'clock.
Prominent members of the Forum were J. P. C. Sampson, Orville L. Holley,
Thomas G. Fessenden, Hiram Ketchum, Rev. Richard Varick Dey, William
Paxton Hallet and Charles G. Haines. At a meeting in the first part of
January, 1817, the question discussed was: "Ought Legislative or other aid
to be afforded in order to render the United States a Manufacturing
nation?" About these meetings Fitz-Greene Halleck has given us a few
descriptive lines:
"Resort of fashion, beauty, taste--
The Forum Hall was nightly grac'd
With all who blush'd their hours to waste
At balls--and such ungodly places;
And Quaker girls were there allow'd
To show, among the motley crowd
Their sweet blue eyes and pretty faces."
[Sidenote: A British Veteran]
John Batten, the garrulous friend of "Felix Oldboy," who considered him a
valuable repository of reminiscences, was a veteran soldier who had come
out with the British troops in the early part of the Revolutionary War.
Better educated than the most of his companions in arms, he is said to
have taught school in the old Dutch Church while the British occupied New
York. He used sometimes to say in a pleasant, joking way: "I fought hard
for this country," and after enjoying the effect produced on his young
auditors, who were ready to admire his patriotic devotion, would slowly
add, after looking around and winking at some elderly person who knew his
history, "but we didn't get it."
On one occasion Batten was present at a grand Fourth of July dinner and
was taken to be a Revolutionary soldier, as of course, he verily was. The
company drank his health in patriotic toasts and at last called upon him
to respond. This he did and spoke so touchingly of the events of the war
that his audience was very much affected, especially the feminine part of
it. Then he said: "Yes, I did fight all through the old Revolution. I
fought as bravely as the others. I liked this country and decided to stay
here; so, when my regiment was preparing to embark, I slipped over to Long
Island and stayed there until they had sailed for England." The astonished
company realized that they had been cheering a British soldier and that
Johnny Batten was not the sort of veteran they were accustomed to admire.
Batten thought it a good joke.
[Sidenote: The Blue Bell]
After the war Batten opened a tavern at Jamaica, Long Island, and a few
years after he came to New York City, where, in 1786, we find him the
landlord of the Blue Bell in Slote Lane. After several changes he settled
down at No. 37 Nassau Street, which he kept as a first-class tavern for
several years. After this he became a merchant and opened a hosiery store
on the west side of Broadway, between Dey and Cortlandt Streets. He was
here in 1817. Batten lived to be a very old man. He was one of those they
called "Battery Walkers" or "Peep o' Day Boys," who used to go down to the
Battery at daybreak and walk about until breakfast time.
[Sidenote: The City Hotel]
When, in 1816, Gibson became landlord of the Merchants' Hotel in Wall
Street, he was succeeded in the City Hotel by Chester Jennings, who was
the landlord of the house for more than twenty years. Under his management
it acquired a high reputation, and in 1836 he retired with a competency.
The very next year his fortune, which had been invested in United States
Bank and other stocks, was swept away by the great revulsion of 1837.
Samuel G. Mather was landlord of the City Hotel in 1838, but John Jacob
Astor, the owner of the house, induced Jennings to again undertake its
management with Willard, his former assistant, and together they assumed
control of it and succeeded so well that in the course of a few years
Jennings had placed himself in a position to retire again in comfort.
During nearly the whole of the first half of the nineteenth century the
City Hotel was not only the most celebrated house of entertainment in the
city, but travellers declared that it had no equal in the United States.
On its register were found the names of the most distinguished men of the
nation as well as prominent citizens from every section of the land. It
was a plain structure of four stories with no architectural pretensions,
and the interior fittings and the furniture were also plain, but good and
durable. The dining room was spacious, light, well ventilated, neat and
scrupulously clean. The service was good and the table furnished with an
abundant supply, selected with the greatest care. Chester Jennings was the
unseen partner who provided supplies and superintended the details of the
running of the house in all departments except the office. Willard's
duties were in the office, where he was clerk, book-keeper, cashier,
bar-keeper and anything necessary. He attended closely to business and was
a well known man, though never seen outside of the hotel. Other hotels
were built with greater pretensions but the old City Hotel maintained its
prestige through all. It had become a general rendezvous for merchants and
friends on their return from business to their homes, and there was about
it a social atmosphere which could not be transferred. The National Hotel,
on the corner of Broadway and Cedar Street, nearly opposite the City
Hotel, erected by Joseph Delacroix of Vauxhall Garden, was opened for
business in March, 1826, and the Adelphi Hotel, a building six stories
high, on the corner of Broadway and Beaver Street, was erected in 1827.
[Sidenote: Club at the City Hotel]
In the palmy days of the City Hotel there were a number of men who made it
their home, or dining place, and, brought together by similarity of tastes
or for social enjoyment, had formed a coterie or sort of club. They were
all men of some leisure who could afford to sit long after dinner and sip
their wine and crack their jokes and discuss the gossip of the town. "This
band of jolly good fellows, who lingered day after day for long years over
their wine and nuts, were well known characters in the city and were
especially familiar to such as visited the City Hotel, where they lived
and died."[6] Colonel Nick Saltus, a retired merchant of wealth and a
confirmed old bachelor, was the acknowledged chairman and spokesman of
this peculiar group.
In those days the captains of the packet-ships which sailed twice each
month for European ports, were men of much importance. Many of them made
the City Hotel their headquarters when in port and became boon-companions
of the select coterie of the house, who often, when an arrival was
announced at Sandy Hook, would proceed to the Battery to meet their friend
who had been commissioned to procure some new gastronomical luxury for
the company.
When Billy Niblo had resolved to abandon his Pine Street Coffee House and
open a suburban place for refreshment and entertainment on what was then
upper Broadway, he invited many of his old customers and friends to the
opening of his new garden, among whom were some who were residents of the
City Hotel. They accepted the invitation of Niblo and determined that
Willard should be one of the company. When the time arrived and he was
duly notified he was noticed to be desperately in search of something that
he could not find. At last he confessed that he had not been the owner of
a hat for many years, and that he had been in search of one which had been
long lying around without an owner, but had now disappeared. A hat was
procured from a hatter directly opposite and everyone in the neighborhood
was quite interested in the fact that Willard was going out.
The cellar of the old hotel is said to have been stocked with wines of the
finest brands, selected with the greatest care, which were pronounced by
connoisseurs as unsurpassed in purity and flavor, and it was the delight
of Chester Jennings to carefully uncork in person some choice variety for
a favorite or important guest.
With New Yorkers of an earlier date the dinner hour was at noon, but those
returning from abroad and those who wished to imitate the customs of
European cities were urgent for a change, and to fall into the line of
modern ways the dinner hour of the hotel was gradually moved to three
o'clock, although a mid-day meal was served to those who would not conform
to the innovation.
[Sidenote: Contoit's Garden]
A well known public place of resort in the early part of the nineteenth
century was John H. Contoit's Garden, in 1801 at 39 Greenwich Street, in
1802 at 253 Broadway and in 1806 and for many years after at 355 Broadway,
on the west side between Leonard and Franklin Streets, when it was known
as the New York Garden. This was a long, narrow plot of ground densely
shaded with trees; on either side were ranged boxes or compartments,
brightened with whitewash and green paint, in each of which was a plain,
bare table with seats to accommodate four persons. It appears to have been
an eminently proper place for ladies of a summer afternoon and in the
evening, lighted by many globes filled with oil and suspended from the
lower branches of the trees, in each of which floated a lighted wick or
paper, was well patronized by the ladies and gentlemen of the period.
Colored waiters with white jackets and aprons supplied customers with
vanilla and lemon ice cream, pound cake and lemonade, which made up the
bill of fare. The inexpensive fittings of the place enabled Contoit to
serve for a shilling an allowance of ice cream sufficient to satisfy any
ordinary appetite and his place became very popular. Although the garden
was supposed to be conducted on the temperance plan, it is said that wine
or even cognac could be obtained without difficulty by those who knew how.
[Illustration: CONTOIT'S GARDEN]
[Sidenote: The Bank Coffee House]
In 1814 William Niblo, an enterprising young man, who afterwards became
well known as a landlord, opened the Bank Coffee House in the house
formerly occupied by Frederick Phillips, a retired British officer, on the
corner of Pine and William Streets, in the rear of the Bank of New York.
He was the son-in-law of David King, a well known tavern-keeper, who for
many years kept a tavern in the little frame house at No. 9 Wall Street
and some years later at No. 6 Slote Lane. Niblo's house soon became very
popular. A group of prominent merchants met here regularly, forming
themselves into a sort of club, with a president and other officers. It
was a famous place for dinners and dinner parties. On the news of peace at
the close of the war of 1812, Niblo issued a card under date of February
20, 1815, from the Bank Coffee House, stating that "William Niblo, in
unison with the universal joy at the return of Peace, invites his friends
to regale themselves at his Collation on Tuesday at 11 o'clock, in
celebration of this happy event." In the great cholera epidemic of 1822 he
removed his coffee house to the village of Greenwich and it was there the
office of the Union Line to Philadelphia, the Boston Mail Coach and the
New Haven Steamboat Line, where passengers were notified to apply for
seats.
[Sidenote: The Great Horse Race]