BREWING IN NEW YORK.
While the exact date of the beginning of brewing as a distinct calling
cannot be ascertained, there is an abundance of historical evidence
that among the very earliest acts of the Colonial governments, those
tending to encourage the establishment of public breweries were deemed
of the greatest importance. It is no less certain that whenever such
encouragement did not sufficiently stimulate private enterprise to
bring about the desired end, or when other reasons (hereafter to be
explained) made it desirable, the rulers of some of the Colonial
settlements seized upon this source of income themselves or granted
monopolies to those private persons who intended to establish
breweries. Thus Van Twiller, Governor of New Netherland from 1633
to 1638, erected a brewery on the West India Company’s farm, which
extended north from what is now Wall Street to Hudson Street, and the
Patroon of Rensselaerwyck (the present counties of Albany, Columbia and
Rensselaer) established a brewery at Beverwyck (the present Albany),
reserving to himself the exclusive privilege of supplying all licensed
retailers.
As this Director Van Twiller, mentioned above, is reputed to have
been a hard drinker, ever intent on finding or creating a suitable
occasion for indulging in his weakness, it is not hazardous to surmise
that in erecting a brewery, he consulted his own tastes quite as much
as the needs of his little community. His example is said to have
influenced the drinking habits of the colonists to such an extent that
drunkenness became a very common occurrence in the community. Captain
De Vries narrates a number of incidents illustrating the weakness of
Van Twiller, and among them is one which appears to deserve a place
in this little sketch. Cornelius Van Voorst, the stem from which grew
a numerous family famous in Manhattan and Jersey annals, was the
superintendent of the colony of Pavonia, established by Pauwn. He was
a man of hospitable inclinations, and had just imported a hogshead of
Bordeaux wine. The rumor of its excellent quality reached the ears of
Director-General Van Twiller, who, in company with Dominie Bogardus
and Captain De Vries, paid the superintendent a visit by means of a
rowboat. Van Voorst received the representatives of Church, State and
Navy with a princely welcome. The cask was broached and the contents
approved. After some hard drinking, a furious dispute about a recent
murder arose between the host, the Governor and the Dominie. De Vries,
the man of war, in this instance proved to be a man of peace, for by
the exercise of his mediation and more claret, a truce was finally
effected and “they parted good friends.” This is not the dull ending,
but merely the prelude to something more brilliant. Just as his guests
were entering their boat to depart, Van Voorst, to show his good will,
caused a swivel, which was fixed on a pillar near the house, to be
fired. It was a fine salute, but a piece of wadding, falling on the Van
Voorst mansion, set fire to the roof. It was impossible to check the
flames and the house was burned to the ground, presumably destroying
the hogshead of wine.
The business of the tapster necessarily preceded that of the brewer;
for before the colonists could raise a crop of the cereals necessary
for brewing—which they did, by the way, according to Isaac Jogues’
description of Novum Belgium, in the very first year after their
settlement—they had to depend upon the supply of liquors shipped to
them from the mother country; and, from all accounts, we learn that the
quantities thus imported were very large and, to modern minds, entirely
out of proportion to the very scant population of the colony. In the
earliest times, the condition and surroundings of the colonists were
such that all available means of subsistence had to be treated very
much like common property. Thus the West India Company undertook, at
first, to furnish the settlers with what they absolutely needed for
their sustenance,—the understanding being that the value of goods so
furnished must be returned by the borrower as soon as the product of
his labor enabled him to do so. This accounts for the fact that the
first taproom on Manhattan Island was located in the first warehouse
erected by Minuet, then Governor of New Netherland (1626-1633).
[Sidenote: GOVERNOR KIEFT’S CURFEW]
The number of tapsters, under Van Twiller’s administration, increased
rapidly; but there is no evidence that brewing kept pace with this
growth—probably because the importation of wines and liquors from the
mother country still sufficed to satisfy the demand. When, however,
in the first year of his administration (1638), Governor Kieft
forbade the retailing of wines and spirits by the tapsters (virtually
restricting the liquor traffic to the selling of beer) the brewing
trade expanded to such an extent that a few years later an excise upon
its product yielded a considerable revenue. From this time onward,
brewing and retailing formed the subjects of frequent legislation
both in New Netherland and in the New England colonies. The lawmakers
not only regulated and taxed the manufacture and sale, but they also
prescribed minutely the quality and price of beer, the time when, and
circumstances under which, it could be sold; the duties of the tapster
and the obligations of the drinker. Kieft forbade the tapping of beer
during divine service and after a certain hour at night; and, in
order to remind the burghers and tapsters of the latter inhibition, he
caused the town bell to be rung—an imitation of the old European custom
of announcing the hour for retiring. His object in introducing the
curfew (the Norman _couvre feu_)[2] was probably not confined to these
things; it is quite likely that he intended thus to force upon the
honest Dutch burghers the conviction that a man of strong will had come
to assume the powers and functions which the licentious Van Twiller
had permitted to be disregarded. Doubtless Kieft honestly endeavored
to correct the evils which had grown up under his predecessor’s rule;
but his motives were probably not always of a purely moral character.
In forbidding the retailing of wine and confining its sale to the
Company’s warehouse—“where,” as he stated in his proclamation, “it
could be obtained in moderate quantities and at a fair price”—he
intended no doubt to create for himself a monopoly of this traffic;
and in establishing a distillery on Staten Island, the first in
New Netherland, he very likely sought to enlarge the scope of his
monopoly. Fortunately, brewing had by this time grown too strong as an
independent enterprise to be absorbed by the Company in this singularly
arbitrary manner. It had become a favorite occupation, as a local
historian justly says; and many of the best and most respected citizens
engaged in it.
[2] The old German night-watchman’s hourly song began with the
announcement of the hour of the night and the admonition to guard
fire and light.
[Sidenote: BREWERS REVOLT AGAINST A TAX]
Naturally enough, the rapid growth of brewing suggested to Governor
Kieft the expediency of levying a tax upon beer, and he imposed this
all the more readily because, in consequence of the Indian War which
he had provoked by a “shocking massacre of savages,” the treasury was
totally depleted. In 1644, he levied a tax of three guilders upon
every tun of beer manufactured by a brewer, and of one florin upon
every tun brewed by private citizens for their own use. Aware that
the imposition of this or any other tax without the consent of the
“Eight Men”—a sort of assembly representing the people—would meet with
little favor, he endeavored to propitiate the brewers by permitting
them to sell beer to tapsters at twenty florins per tun, an increase
over the old price almost covering the amount of the tax. The brewers,
nevertheless, stoutly refused to pay the excise, and based their
refusal upon the ground that the tax was imposed against the will of
the representatives of the people and, therefore, contrary to what they
conceived to be an inalienable right of every burgher. While their
opposition to a government without the consent of the governed may
not have been very clearly defined, the stout burghers of the colony
fully understood that taxation without the consent of the taxed was an
absolute wrong.
The best historians accord in the opinion that the attitude of the
brewers, at that stage of the political development of the Colonies,
deserves the utmost praise and reflects all the more credit upon them,
because the inducements held out to them by Kieft in the form of a
permission to increase the price of their product, might have prompted
them to yield, if they had valued their profits more than the political
rights of their fellow citizens. The historian O’Callaghan, in his
History of New Netherland, expresses this view in these words: “Kieft
had no idea of being thwarted by such constitutional scruples. Judgment
was given against the brewers, and thus another victory was achieved in
New Netherland over popular rights.”
In all likelihood, the brewers expected that the protest which the
Eight Men had openly raised against the excise would enable them to
maintain their refusal to pay; but while this expectation may have
had the effect of inspiring them with a degree of temerity which
would otherwise not have been aroused so readily, it detracts not a
particle from the praiseworthiness of their action. At all events,
if they calculated upon any leniency on Kieft’s part, they reckoned
without their host; for that arbitrary ruler not only disregarded the
remonstrances of the Eight Men and insisted upon payment of the tax,
but he even confiscated the whole stock of beer in the cellars of the
recalcitrant brewers and gave it to the soldiers—partly as a prize and
partly, no doubt, as an incentive to effective execution, on their
part, in the event of a popular demonstration. The brewers lost their
beer and their case, but they were lauded and they made a memorable bit
of history as the champions of popular rights.
[Sidenote: MEN OF WORTH AND SUBSTANCE]
We may be permitted to digress a little (though such digression must
necessarily carry us beyond the period of Kieft’s administration)
in order to mention a few of the many Colonial brewers whose names
are familiar to every New Yorker, even to this day. William Beekman,
brewer, was successively schepen, burgomaster of New Amsterdam for
nine years, vice-director of the Colony on the Delaware, sheriff at
Esopus, alderman, and again sheriff under English dominion—holding
office, with some interruption for forty years. He continued the
brewery of George Holmes, built in 1654, and died in 1707 at the age
of 84. Beekman Street is named after him, and also (it is claimed)
William Street. Peter W. Couwenhoven, brewer, was schepen in 1653 and
1654, and again in 1658-59 and 1661-63. Nicholas and Balthazar Bayard,
brewers, held office between 1683 and 1687; former as alderman and
mayor, and the latter as alderman. Petrus Rutger, brewer, was assistant
alderman from 1730 to 1732. The Rutgers were a family of brewers.
Jean Rutgers, their forefather, had a brewery in 1653, built probably
earlier. Alice, daughter of Anthony Rutgers, married Leonard Lispenard,
and one of the latter’s sons (Anthony) owned extensive breweries. The
name of Lispenard, says a local historian, is merged in the families
of Stewart, Webb, Livingstone, Winthrop, etc. John DeForrest, brewer,
was schepen in 1658. Jacob Kip, brewer, was schepen from 1659 to 1665,
and again in 1673. His ancestors, the DeKypes, belonged to the oldest
nobility of the Bretagne.
Oloff S. Van Cortlandt, brewer, was burgomaster from 1653 to 1663
(thirteen years of continuous service), and alderman in 1666, 1667 and
1671. If certain genealogical charts (usually considered reliable)
may be trusted, Van Cortlandt was a descendant of the Dukes of
Courland, Russia. He had a brewery in Stone Street, which in Dutch
days was appropriately named Brouwer, _i.e._, Brewer Street. His
daughter, Maria, married Jeremiah Van Rensselaer—lord of the colony of
Rensselaerwyck who also was founder of a brewery, namely, the one at
Beverwyck, before adverted to. Aert Teunison, a most influential man in
his days, established the first brewery at Hoboken, and made beer for
his neighbors until 1648, when he was killed by the Indians. Michael
Janson, the progenitor of the large Vreeland family, was the first
brewer at Pavonia, in 1654. Jacob Van Vleck, brewer, was alderman in
1684, 1685 and 1686. Martin Cregier, captain of the military company—a
man of considerable importance, who commanded several exploring parties
and subsequently became burgomaster—was the proprietor of a tavern
opposite Bowling Green in 1653, and doubtless also practiced brewing.
We may now close this very incomplete list of prominent Colonial
brewers with the mention of one whose name is, and always has been, of
uncommon interest to historians, seeing that he was the first white
male born in New Netherland. Jean Vigne held the office of schepen
during three terms. He followed the threefold occupation of brewer,
miller and farmer, and owned a tract of land, the site of his brewery,
near Watergate (present Wall Street).