O »» o 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 A^ 
 
 xV ^ 
 
 I ' » - -<i^. 
 
 
 
 fv ^-^..^^ ;;^m;'= X.^^ /J 
 
 
 r 
 
 '' *^- -^ 
 
 0^ c ° " " t ^3 J, ^ 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 O 
 

 
 
 v.^ 
 
 
 -^c 
 
 
 
 
.-a 
 
 1 
 
GLANCE AT NEW YORK 
 
 EMBRACING 
 
 THE CITY GOVERNMENT, 
 
 THEATRES, HOTELS, CHURCHES, MOBS, MONOPOLIES, 
 
 LEARNED PROFESSIONS, NEWSPAPERS, ROGUES, DANDIES, 
 
 FIRES AND FIREMEN, WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS, 
 
 &C. &C. 
 
 ./ 
 
 ^::i v>.. 
 
 ^-vv^.,.,,.-^^.. 
 
 ''-•''w^ 
 
 The city swarms intense.— Thomson 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 A. GREENE, 1 BEEKMAN STREET. 
 
 1 8 3 7 .' 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1837, 
 
 By a. GREENE, 
 in the Clerk's Office, ofthe Southern District of New- York. 
 
 
 CRAIGHEAD & ALLEN, PRINTERS, 
 
 ]12Fuhon Street. 
 
CONTENTS: 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 General Features, 
 
 CHAPTER ir. 
 
 A^opuiatjon, 
 
 CHAPTER IV.' 
 1 neatres, 
 
 ' • » 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ^^nurches, 
 
 * ' • . 
 
 i CHAPTER VI 
 
 Law, Physic, and Divinity, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ■Kogues, 
 
 * * • 
 
 n» ^- CHAPTER vm. ' 
 
 J-'andies, 
 
 n. n ,. CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Uog Police, 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Mobs, 
 
 Monopolies. ".^^^^^^ XL 
 
 . 1 
 . 11 
 
 . 23 
 . 35 
 
 ' 42 
 
 . 52 
 
 66 
 78 
 . 84 
 
 93 
 
 108 
 
116 
 124 
 
 155 
 
 169 
 
 \y CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Magazines, . • • * * 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 Newspapers, . • • * * 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Booksellers and Publishers, . • -143 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 City Government, , . • • 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 Condition of the streets, 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Water and other Liquids, . • • '^'^^ 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Fires and Firemen, 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Public Squares, 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 Public Libraries, • • • 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Hoaxes, • • • • ' 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 Hacks and Omnibuses, ... 24b 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 Conclusion, . • • • • 
 
 197 
 211 
 221 
 233 
 
 261 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 It is related of a good woman, away Down 
 East, that having made her hasty-pudding of 
 Plaster of Paris, instead of meal, she fed her chil- 
 dren with it, and put them to bed. In the morn- 
 ing going to call them, she found them so chan<r- 
 ed, both in shape and size, by the alterative pow- 
 er of the plaster, that she did not know them 
 again. 
 
 With the philosophy of this surprising change 
 we have nothing to do ; and we only relate the 
 story as we heard it, just by way of introduction 
 to a remark we have to make, namely : that the 
 changes, taking place in every part of the United 
 States, being confessedly such as to outstrip the 
 rapidity of modern printing, no reader, it is sup- 
 posed, can be so unreasonable as to expect that 
 those facts, which have been written respecting 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 the condition of an^ part of this country to-day 
 shall come out of the press equally facts respect- 
 ing its condition to-morrow. It should not sur- 
 prise him, therefore, to find some little variance 
 between Truth and Type in the following 
 pages. But as we have collected the facts with a 
 good deal of care, and given charge to our prin- 
 ter to see them through the press with all conve- 
 nient speed : so it is hoped that the variance will 
 not occur in many things, nor turn out to be of 
 very serious importance in any. 
 New York, March 15, 1837, 
 
A 
 
 GLANCE AT NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 GENERAL FEATURES. 
 
 Various: 
 That the mind of desultory man, 
 Studious of change, and pleased with novelty, 
 May be indulged. — Cowper. 
 
 The Island of Manhattan, on which the 
 city of New York is built, is about 15 miles in 
 length, and about one and a quarter in mean 
 breadth. It is bounded on the east by the 
 East River, on the south by New York Bay, 
 on the west by Hudson River, and on the 
 north by Spuyten-Duyvel Creek and Harlem 
 River. 
 
 The face of the island was originally diver- 
 sified into hill and valley, ledge and swamp ; 
 1 
 
Z GENERAL FEATURES. 
 
 and the more ancient parts of the city strll 
 present very nearly the same uneven surface 
 as in the olden time. But the levelling genius 
 of our city government has reduced to an 
 almost entire flat the more new and recently 
 built parts of the town. They have said em- 
 phatically, 
 
 " Stoop down ye hills ! ye valleys rise !" 
 
 Not more than a sixth part of the island is 
 compactly covered with houses, stores, and 
 paved streets. The rest is occupied with 
 farms and gardens ; though the limits of the 
 city comprise the whole island ; and the farm- 
 ers and gardeners of the upper five-sixths are 
 included in one of the wards of the city, are 
 subject to the government of the mayor and 
 corporation, and enjoy the same municipal 
 privileges as their more crowded neighbors, 
 who walk on paved streets, and are surround- 
 ed with all the bustle of city life. 
 
 The streets of the ancient parts of New 
 York are narrow, crooked, and irregular — 
 running into and crossing each other at all 
 
GENERAL FEATURES. O 
 
 sorts of angles except a right angle. As a 
 specimen of the narrow, the irregular and 
 the crooked, Pearl Street may be taken — 
 Pearl street, that great mart of business and 
 principal scene of wholesale operations. The 
 new parts of the city are more regularly laid 
 out. The streets and avenues are broad and 
 straight ; and the squares have generally right 
 angles. 
 
 Broadway is a noble street, 80 feet wide 
 and st»'aight as an arrow, extending from the 
 Battery northward nearly two miles, and 
 uniting with the fifth avenue. Colonel Ham- 
 ilton in his " Men and Manners," informs us 
 that the sides of this street " are skirted by a 
 row of stunted and miserable looking poplars, 
 useless either for shade or ornament, which 
 breaks the unity of the street without com- 
 pensation of any sort." Other travellers will 
 probably not be so keen-sighted as the gallant 
 Colonel : for if they travel the whole length 
 of Broadway, they will scarcely find a dozen 
 poplars in the entire distance. In fact there 
 are very few trees of any kind ; and most of 
 
4 GENERAL FEATURES. 
 
 those are of that species variously denominat- 
 ed the plane, sycamore, or button-wood tree. 
 But broad as Broadway is, and exceedingly 
 broad as it was doubtless thought by our fa- 
 thers and grandfathers, it is now quite too 
 narrow for the immense travel, business, and 
 locomotion of various kinds, of which it is the 
 constant scene. This is particularly the case 
 with that part below Canal-street ; and more 
 particularly so south of the Park. Here the 
 attempt at crossing is almost as much as your 
 life is worth. To perform the feat with any 
 degree of safety, you must button your coat 
 tight about you, see that your shoes are se- 
 cure at the heels, settle your hat firmly on 
 your head, look up street and down street, at 
 the self-same moment, to see what carts and 
 carriages are upon you, and then run for your 
 life. We daily see persons waiting at the 
 crossing places, for some minutes, before they 
 can find an opening, and a chance to get over, 
 between the omnibuses, coaches, and other 
 vehicles, that are constantly dashing up and 
 down the street ; and, after waiting thus long. 
 
GENERAL FEATURES. O 
 
 deem themselves exceedingly fortunate if they 
 get over with sound bones and a whole skin. 
 
 Another great thoroughfare is the Bowery. 
 But this street is wider than Broadway ; and 
 as fewer people pass therein, either in the 
 way of business or pleasure, it is not so much 
 crowded, and there is not the same difficulty 
 and danger in crossing it. 
 
 Most of the houses in New York are built 
 of brick ; and are in height from two to six 
 stories. A few of the old wooden buildings 
 remain ; and a few of the more new and ele- 
 gant structures are of stone. At least they 
 appear to be stone ; though few of them, we 
 believe, have the entire fabric, or the solid 
 walls of that durable material. For instance, 
 the Astor House, which seems to the eve a 
 structure of pure granite, is merely covered 
 with slabs of that material, while the princi- 
 pal thickness of the entire outer wall, and all 
 the partition walls, are of brick. Another 
 instance of the same " outward adorning" 
 may be seen in Holt's large house, near the 
 
 Fulton Ferry. The outside is of very good 
 1* 
 
b GENERAL FEATURES. 
 
 marble, to the depth of three or four inches, 
 while the inside, like that of its great rival, is 
 entirely of brick. But the granite slabs of 
 the Astor House, we believe, are about twice 
 the thickness of the marble ones of Holt's. 
 Both, so far as we know, are sound, solid, and 
 safe structures. 
 
 Each of these buildings appears in itself, of 
 a uniform and excellent material, and betrays 
 not, by any outward appearance, the diversity 
 of its composition. The same cannot be said 
 of all those buildings in which granite or mar- 
 ble forms a part of the material. They pre- 
 sent a front of very beautiful stone, while the 
 gable end is exposed in all the nakedness of 
 bare bricks. Such are several of the houses 
 in Broadway ; and such is that pretty row of 
 new buildings composing Lafayette Place. 
 You admire the marble front and Corinthian 
 columns ; and dream not, until you cast your 
 eyes to the ends or the rear, that . tlie entire 
 block is not of solid marble. 
 
 Though these outward coverings and fronts 
 of stone are not just the thing which a people 
 
GENERAL FEATURES. / 
 
 of pure taste and honest purpose should ahn 
 at ; still they are to be welcomed, on the 
 principle that " half a loaf is better than no 
 bread ;" or that a dickey and collar are better 
 than no signs of a shirt. They are at least 
 an improvement in appearance, and perhaps 
 give indication that greater wealth and grow- 
 ing taste will by and by introduce walls of 
 solid stone, in room of the combination of 
 brick and slabs. 
 
 Granite pillars in front of the stores are of 
 recent introduction. Five or six years ago 
 there were scarcely a dozen of such fronts 
 in all New York. Now every new store is 
 built with granite columns, as high as the first 
 story ; and some of them higher. But the new 
 stores are not the only recipients of these im- 
 provements. The brick walls are knocked 
 away from the fronts of many of the old ones, 
 and granite pillars inserted. 
 
 But if these pillars improve the appearance 
 of the buildings, they do not tend in the least 
 to increase their strength. On the contrary, 
 they add much to the danger of their falling ; 
 
8 GENERAL FEATURES. 
 
 especially if the structure be on the corner of 
 a block, and have pillars on more than one 
 side. All the modern structures of New- 
 York are built sufficiently slight ; and, like 
 the child's cob-house, are but too ready, ele- 
 vated as they are, to totter and fall. Imagine 
 then the cobs of the child's ambitious but 
 feeble structure, to be set endwise as high as 
 the first stor}!, and you have an idea how much 
 more likely it is to fall to the ground, than in 
 the primitive method of placing them in a 
 horizontal position. 
 
 Of the effects of slight building in this city, 
 we had a melancholy instance in the year '32, 
 in the fall of ihe large store of Phelps & Peck, 
 at the corner of Fulton and Cliff streets ; 
 when four or five persons were crushed to 
 death beneath its ruins ; and among them 
 that accomplished accountant and worthy 
 man, Thomas H. Goddard. 
 
 About the same time — or a little after — an 
 accident of a different description, and indeed 
 of rather a ludicrous nature, is reported to 
 have happened in Bleecker street, in conse- 
 
GENERAL FEATURES. 9 
 
 quence of the slight texture of the wall which 
 separated two adjoining houses. One, as the 
 story ran, was occupied by an ancient maiden 
 lady, and the other by a bachelor on the wrong 
 side of forty — neither of whom was particu- 
 larly fond of the society of the other sex. 
 The bachelor was taking his ease one eve- 
 ning in his slippers, and, yankee-like, leaning 
 back in his chair against the wall. About the 
 same time, it happened that the ancient maiden 
 had just doffed her slippers and was in the act 
 of putting on her nightcap. The bachelor — 
 certainly without any malice prepense, be- 
 cause he was not aware of the weakness of 
 the wall, nor had he any idea who was his 
 neighbor — happened just at that time, to lean 
 back a little harder than usual, when — in the 
 twinkling of an eye, and without any previous 
 warning — he found himself in his fair neigh- 
 bor's apartment, with his back on the floor and 
 his heels in the air, in consequence of the wall 
 giving way. 
 
 If he was surprised, so was the lady. She 
 screamed and fall, very properly, into fits. 
 
10 GENERAL FEATURES. 
 
 But before taking this last decisive step, she 
 demanded of the bachelor, in very peremptory 
 terms, what he wanted in her room. As he 
 desired nothing in the world so much as to get 
 out again, this question was soon answered, 
 and in a very practical manner, by his imme- 
 diate retreat to his own side of the wall. The 
 breach between him and the old maid was 
 closed up as soon as a bricklayer could be 
 obtained ; and from that time until the end of 
 the year, when both parties removed to more 
 secure lodgings, the bachelor never ventured 
 to indulge again in the luxury of leaning 
 against the wall.* 
 
 * That we might not be wanting in instances of the 
 slightness of modern structures in New York, three build- 
 ings have fallen since the above was in type. Two were 
 brick stores in Fulton street, with granite pillars as high as 
 the first story. The other was a very large marble building 
 (so called,) in WaU street, belonging to Messrs. Josephs. 
 Like other buildings professing to be of stone, it was merely 
 covered with slabs of that material, which being set up edge- 
 wise— and not fastened to the bricks, added little or nothing 
 to its strength. Fortunately none of these buildings were 
 quite finished. Had they been so, in all probability their 
 tenants, in greater or less numbers, would have been buried 
 beneath the ruins. 
 
CHAPTER IL 
 
 POPULATION. 
 
 " I was ever of opinion that the honest man, who married 
 and brought up a large fanrily, did more service than he 
 who contmued single, and only talked of population." 
 
 Vicar ojf Wakefield. 
 
 Judging from the present well peopled state 
 of this citj, one would not think that the fath- 
 ers thereof had differed very materially in sen- 
 timent from the worthy Dr. Primrose. But 
 who are the fathers thereof? We do not ask 
 who are the members of the Common Coun- 
 cil-God bless them ! Though they are cal- 
 ed "the fathers of the city," we have not the 
 least Idea that they are so, except in so far as 
 Ihey are obliged, by virtue of their office, to 
 father its numerous sins, both of omission and 
 commission. 
 
 No; the "fathers according to the flesh" 
 ot our numerous population are to be looked 
 
•12 POPULATION. 
 
 for beyond the bounds of New York ; nay, 
 beyond the bounds of the United States. 
 Their parentage is in every nation under 
 heaven : in Ireland, in Scotland, in England, 
 in France, in Spain, in Germany, in Russia, 
 in East India, in China, in South America, 
 and in the Islands of Polynesia. Of foreign 
 birth Ireland has given us the largest number 
 —probably more than all other countries put 
 
 to"-ether. Her sons— judS'ng ^f""" *^ *°''' 
 sands of paddies who are annually landed 
 upon our shores-have very evidently not 
 " continued single and only talked of popu- 
 lation." , 
 
 The inhabitants of New York, as we have 
 just hinted, derive their origin from every part 
 of the world. They exhibit a sort of human 
 patch-work, in which the materials are brought 
 together from all quarters; and, as might be 
 expected, the whole piece is most strange- 
 ly and curiously diversified. Here is the 
 shrewd Yankee ; the cool and twice-thinkmg 
 Scotchman ; the warm and never-thmking 
 Irishman ; the mercurial and light-hearted 
 Frenchman ; the grave Spaniard ; the roman- 
 
POPULATION. 13 
 
 tic German ; the thoughtless African ; in short, 
 the natives, and the descendants of the natives, 
 of every nation, and kindred, and tongue on 
 the face of the earth. 
 
 As yet the groundwork of this variously 
 patched piece may be seen — though in fainter 
 and fainter colors — in the descendants of the 
 ancient Dutch population. In a few years 
 more this will fade away entirely. The influx 
 of emigrants from New England and Europe 
 will overspread and characterize the whole. 
 In the active business of the place the Yankees 
 are taking, and will take, the lead. Where 
 headwork is to be done the Yankees will do it. 
 The manual operatives will be, as they are 
 becoming more and more, the natives of the 
 Emerald Isle. While the name of the Knick- 
 erbockers will go out and vanish into thin air, 
 like a whifF of smoke from the pipe of Wouter 
 Van Twiller, their first governor, and the most 
 ancient chief magistrate of this great city. 
 
 Their name will go out, did we say ? No ! 
 thanks to Diedrich Knickerbocker ! the learned 
 and indefatigable historian of New York, the 
 name, the fame, the credit, and the deeds of 
 
14 POPULATION^. 
 
 renown, of the ancient Dutch settlers will 
 never die. Admirable Diedrich ! Philosophi- 
 cal Diedrich ! Most learned Diedrich ! Thy 
 " History of New York from the beginning of 
 the world to the end of the Dutch Dynasty,"^ 
 contains good and excellent matter enough ta 
 immortalize the inhabitants of any hundred 
 cities that ever existed. 
 
 But I am on the point of digressing. My 
 design was — when I began this chapter — to 
 speak of the population of New York, and of 
 its increase from period to period, unto the 
 present date. 
 
 The growth of New York was at first very 
 slow — much slower than any person, who 
 now looks on the cities of the west, and be- 
 holds a populous town spring up almost in a 
 day, could possibly imagine. Whether the 
 early Dutch settlers and their goede vrouws 
 " only talked of population," or whether they 
 found their chief pleasure and employment in 
 smoking, or whether they had still other mat- 
 ters of more serious import to attend to : one 
 thing is pretty certain, viz ; that the popula- 
 
POPULATION. 15 
 
 tion of New York in the year 1696, some- 
 where about 75 years after its first settlement, 
 had only reached the small number of 4302. 
 In 60 years after, namely in 1756, it had only 
 got as high as 10,381. And up to the year 
 1786, three years after the evacuation of the 
 city by the British, the number of inhabitants 
 was only 23,614. 
 
 After that period the population increased 
 more rapidly, insomuch that in four years af- 
 terwards, namely in 1790, it had reached 33, 
 131. In 1800, it was 60,489 ; in 1810—96, 
 303; in 1820—123,706; in 1825— 166,086 ; 
 in 1830 — 202,589; in 1835— -270,089. 
 Allowing the ratio of increase for the last two 
 years to be the same as that for the five years 
 previous, viz. six per cent per annum, and 
 the present population of New York is about 
 300,000. At the same rate of increase, by 
 the year 1840 it will have reached 350,000 ; 
 in the year 1850 it will be 560,000 ; in 1860 
 it will be 896,000; in 1870— 1,433,000 ; in 
 1880—2,392,000, which will far exceed the 
 present population of London. In short, aU 
 
16 POPULATION. 
 
 lowing the increase to be six per cent per 
 annum, or sixty per cent for each ten years, 
 the population of New York will, at the close 
 of the present century, have reached the enor- 
 mous amount of six millions. 
 
 Such a goodly increase — or perhaps we 
 should rather say, such a frightful increase — 
 many accidents may happen to prevent. 
 Though there may be many Dr. Primroses, 
 who will not think they have discharged their 
 duty to society by merely talking of popula- 
 tion, nevertheless there may be many circum- 
 stances, over which they can have no control, 
 which will effectually prevent those results 
 that would be likely to follow from the indul- 
 gence of such patriotic sentiments and de- 
 signs. 
 
 There may happen the sword, the pestilence, 
 and the famine. Such things have happened, 
 to mar the growth of other cities ; and they 
 may happen, in the progress of events, to stay, 
 or effectually to check, that of this rising me- 
 tropolis. From present appearances, indeed* 
 the sword is not likely to lay waste our city. 
 
POPULATION. 17 
 
 From pestilence we are, perhaps, more in 
 clanger. But that may, or may not, happen 
 according as it pleases God and the cleanly 
 habits of our worthy corporation. From fa- 
 mine — looking at the present, and probable 
 future, state of things — we are more in danger 
 than from either war or pestilence. The in- 
 crease in the price of provisions, within the 
 last two years, has been frightful in the ex- 
 treme — not less, on an average, we are in- 
 formed, than 33 per cent. 
 
 House-rent and the price of fuel have 
 equally increased : so that it is next to im- 
 possible for a man, on a moderate income, to 
 support a wife and children. If he lent a 
 house, it takes all his income to pay his land- 
 lord, and he has nothing left wherewith to 
 purchase food, clothing, and fuel. Or, if he 
 provide himself with these latter articles, he 
 has nothing left wherewith to pay his rent. 
 So that in either event he is pretty sure to suf- 
 fer destitution. 
 
 To show the difference in the prices of 
 
 sundry articles now, and at a period not 
 
 2* 
 
18 
 
 POPULATION. 
 
 beyond the memory of some persons still li- 
 ving — say a little more than seventy years ago 
 — we will place side by side the cost of the 
 articles at that period and the present. For 
 the former we are indebted to Watson's 
 
 Prices in 1773. 
 
 X Ulli 
 
 Ditto 
 
 IN 1837. 
 
 s 
 
 d 
 
 
 s d 
 
 Best Oysters per hundred, 1 
 Beef per pound, - 
 Fowls each, 
 
 3a4 
 9 
 
 Do. 
 Do. 
 Do. 
 
 - 20 
 
 - lal 6 
 
 - 2a3 
 
 A cock Turkey, - - 4 
 A hen Turkey, - - 2 
 A Goose, - - - 2 
 
 
 Do. 
 Do. 
 Do. 
 
 - 16 
 
 - 12 
 
 - 12 
 
 A Duck, . - - 1 
 
 
 Do. 
 
 4 
 
 Butter per pound. 
 
 Oak wood per load, - 2 
 
 9 
 
 Do. 
 Do. 
 
 - 2 6 
 
 - 20 
 
 Such an increase in the expense of living, if 
 it do not cause absolute famine — if it do not 
 render it impossible for a large share of the 
 people to provide themselves with the necessa- 
 ries of life— will at least afford such discourage- 
 ments — will offer such a frightful obstacle — 
 to the dwellers in New York, that they will 
 rery naturally turn their backs upon the city 
 
POPULATION. 19 
 
 and seek a residence elsewhere. This will 
 check the growth of its population ; though, 
 as to the strict question of famine, the good 
 sense of one part of the people will probably 
 not allow them to remain in a place where 
 they are in danger of starvation ; and the 
 christian charity of their neighbors will not 
 quite permit them to come to that direful end. 
 But if the population be not absolutely 
 checked by starvation, so neither, on the 
 other hand, will it increase so much as afore-, 
 time by early marriages ; or, indeed, by any 
 marriages whatever. Bachelors will postpone 
 the happy hour, until they acquire the where- 
 withal for supporting a family ; which many 
 of them will never be able to do: and of 
 course their pride and prudence will make 
 them continue single all their lives. But 
 should they be so fortunate as ever to acquire 
 the means of maintaining a family, it will, in 
 many instances, be so late in life that they will 
 have lost all taste for matrimony ; and, finally 
 conclude they may as well close their lives in 
 
20 POPULATION. 
 
 single blessedness. While those who do ven- 
 ture upon taking them wives, will mostly marry 
 women who are no longer young, that they 
 may not be blessed in their old age with the 
 delights of a family of young children. 
 
 Every year doth celibacy more and more in- 
 crease in New York. Every year are the bach- 
 elors of this most expensive city less and less in- 
 clined to enter into the holy, but most inconve- 
 nient state of matrimony. Time was, and that 
 , but a few years since, when the beauties attend- 
 ing the annual Bachelors' Ball on St. Valen- 
 tine's da}^ could draw off, at one haul, a score 
 of the votaries of celibacy to make trial of 
 the joys of wedded life : as the gazettes, there- 
 after and thereupon, bore ample testimony 
 under their hymeneal heads, as well also as in 
 acknowledgments for wedding cake, officially 
 received on those interesting occasions. But 
 now, alas ! we hear little of the once fa- 
 mous Bachelors' Ball, and less still of the glo- 
 rious family results which used to flow from 
 it. Not all the eloquence of all the Slocums 
 
POPULATION. 21 
 
 and McClures,* with all their legislative ac- 
 tivity, we fear, can prevent the growth of celi- 
 bacy in New York. 
 
 But whatsoever, and how great soever, 
 checks, may ultimately happen to the increase 
 of population, they are not likely to operate 
 with much efficiency, for many years to come. 
 So happily is New York situated for com- 
 merce, such an extent of territory has she on 
 the island as yet unfilled with population, so 
 great is the enterprize of her citizens, and 
 such is the increasing tide of immigration, 
 
 * Daddy Slocum so called out of respect to his venerable 
 age — a member of the Massachusetts legislature, attempted 
 a few years since to procure, the enactment of a law to 
 force bachelors to consult their own happiness. He failed. 
 The like exploit was attempted, and with the like success, 
 in the legislature of New Vork, by General McClure, the 
 hero of the conflagration of Newark. It was reported of 
 the last, that the great number of letters he received from 
 the bachelors in every part of the state, by way of remon- 
 strance, while the motion was pending for the enforcement 
 of their happiness, cost him more in paying the postage, 
 than all his legislative fees amounted to. So insensible 
 were the single gentlemen of the great value of the favor 
 intended them ! 
 
22 POPULATION. 
 
 that she can scarcely fail to continue, for 
 many years, her rapid growth, be the expenses 
 of living and the inconveniences of her crowd- 
 ed population as great as they will. 
 
 The increase, down to the close of the pre- 
 sent century, will probably continue with very 
 little abatement, what it has been from the 
 commencement of the same century to the 
 present time : and we have very little doubt 
 that many persons are now born, who will live 
 to see a population in New York of not less 
 than three millions. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOTELS. 
 
 ♦< Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn ?'^ — Falstaff^ 
 
 *' Wife. Heigho ! I wish I was in heaven. 
 
 Husband. I wish to heaven you were, and I was at the 
 tavern. 
 
 Wife. Ah ! you old rogue, you ! you always want the' 
 best place." — Joseph Miller. 
 
 Without pretending to adopt the sentiment^ 
 expressed with such singular unanimity by the 
 amiable pair, in the above quotation, namely,, 
 that a hotel is to be preferred to heaven itself, 
 we are nevertheless constrained to admit that 
 it would be exceedingly difficult, in a great 
 city, to do without that sort of convenience. 
 In patriarchal times, the way-worn and 
 hungry traveller was cordially pressed — nay, 
 constrained — to enter in and eat bread, and 
 accept of lodgings — and that without any sign 
 hung out, with " Entertainment for Man and 
 
24 HOTELS. 
 
 Horse." The Virginia and Carolina planters 
 hold out a like hospitality to the traveller. All 
 is afforded "without money and without price." 
 The planter thinks himself sufficiently paid by 
 your good company, and would scorn the idea 
 of bartering his hospitality for gold, silver, or 
 bank bills. The Yankee is not precisely so 
 squeamish on the score of taking pay ; and 
 the New England farmers have always a spare 
 bed and a meal of victuals at your disposal, 
 when you cannot conveniently get entertain- 
 ment at a hotel. They ask you nothing, 
 indeed ; but then they do not consider it an 
 insult to be offered money. What is offered — 
 at least to a moderate amount — they will gene- 
 rally accept. But, money or no money, the 
 New England farmer will never refuse a lodg- 
 ing and the best his table affords, to a stranger 
 who cannot elsewhere be better accommo- 
 dated. 
 
 But in New York, as well as in all other 
 cities, hospitality, or any thing resembling it, 
 is unknown. And this is the result, not of 
 any native churlishness or want of fellow feel- 
 
HOTELS. 25 
 
 ing ; but simply of the particular circum- 
 stances, the peculiar social condition, of the 
 inhabitants of cities. " What is every body's 
 business is nobody's." The citizens live too 
 close together, too crowded, to allow room for 
 hospitality. The scattered condition of people 
 living on farms and plantations renders them 
 hospitable. Bring the southerner to New York 
 — make him a citizen of this great metropolis — 
 and he would no more entertain strangers than 
 Mr. John Smith, or any of the other thousands 
 of our citizens who keep house, and whose 
 names figure in the Directory. 
 
 Hotels, in a city like this, being confessedly 
 articles of great convenience, if not of "dire 
 necessity," we could hardly do less than de- 
 vote an entire chapter to their consideration. 
 The number of hotels in New York is exceed- 
 ingly limited when we consider the size and 
 business of the place, and the great number 
 of strangers to be accommodated. There are 
 not in all, we believe — or at least all that de- 
 serve the name of hotels — much above thirty. 
 There are, indeed, hundreds of places where 
 3 
 
26 HOTELS. 
 
 spirituous liquors are sold, and which perhaps 
 are designated, in flaming characters over the 
 door, as " hotels." There are other places 
 again, of great respectability, where good eat- 
 ing is to be had, and which are generally de- 
 nominated " refectories." But of public 
 houses, where meat and lodging are furnished, 
 in genteel, respectable, or decent style, there 
 are not, as we have just said, much above 
 thirty. 
 
 This, for a population of 300,000, and 20,- 
 000 strangers who are frequently in the city 
 at a time, we repeat, is a very small number. 
 If we allow them, on an average, to accom- 
 modate 200 persons apiece, — which we be- 
 lieve is a sufficiently liberal allowance — there 
 are only 6000 of the 20,000 strangers pro- 
 vided for ; to say nothing of the citizens, who, 
 in great numbers, both married and single, 
 both clerks and business men, and men of no 
 business, occupy a room and a seat at the 
 board of some one of the hotels. 
 
 The boarding houses, of which there are 
 many of great respectability in different parts 
 
HOTELS. 27 
 
 of the city, accommodate a pretty large num- 
 ber of strangers. But, after all, we do not 
 see where all of them find the conveniences 
 of bed and board. Meat they may find at 
 the eating houses, and that at all hours, and 
 whenever they are hungry. For lodgings they 
 must do as heaven pleases. If they find ac- 
 commodations, as doubtless they must some- 
 where, we confess our utter ignorance of the 
 whereabouts. It is an old story^ — that of the 
 man who lodged in the Park, and caught cold 
 by the watchmen leaving the gate open. But, 
 if we recollect aright, he was a citizen loafer, 
 and not a stranger. 
 
 That persons from abroad are often straight- 
 ened for a lodging, we see exemplified every 
 spring and fall, when the city is most amply 
 filled with strangers. They arrive in great 
 numbers by the steamboats. They order 
 their baggage to be carried, each one, to such 
 or such a hotel; "We are full," says the land- 
 lord, " The mischief you are !" says the 
 stranger ; " but hav'nt you some snug little 
 corner you can stow me into ? You know I 
 
28 HOTELS. 
 
 always put up with you." — " I know you do," 
 says the landlord, " and I am very sorry that 
 I can't accommodate you now. But I'm full 
 from cellar to garret. There is not room 
 enough to get in a shad edgeways." 
 
 The stranger orders his baggage to be car- 
 ried to another hotel. He finds the other 
 hotel in the same predicament as the first — 
 crowded to suffocation — or, at any rate, so 
 crowded that he cannot get in. He orders 
 Sambo to shoulder the baggage once more, 
 and to follow him to another house of enter- 
 tainment — which he finds, in like manner, has 
 no entertainment for him. 
 
 Thus do we often see the poor stranger 
 trudging from house to house, and everywhere 
 denied admittance. How he finds himself 
 accommodated at last, we know not. But 
 the reader may very well conclude, from all 
 we have said, that the number of hotels and 
 the amount of accommodation for strangers 
 are very unequal to the demand. 
 
 The consequence is, that the keepers of 
 
HOTELS. 29 
 
 hotels, are enabled to charge for their accom- 
 modations whatever sums they please. A- 
 bout two years ago — though they had pre- 
 viously been doing an excellent business — 
 they, by a simultaneous movement, raised their 
 prices thirty-three and a third per cent. 
 
 But as the gentility of the house is alwa3^s 
 estimated by the extravagance of its charges, 
 and as the strife of gentility is somewhat pre- 
 valent in our growing country, so those hotels 
 which lay on the largest price, are pretty cer- 
 tain to be thoroughly filled. 
 
 In speaking of the high price of board and 
 lodging in the New York hotels, we would not 
 be thought to accuse the keepers of a greater 
 lack of conscience than most other people of 
 their own country and time. They ask a 
 good price because they know they can get it • 
 and that those, who want accommodations, 
 must either pay it, or go without them. It is 
 " human natur," as Stapleton says. 
 
 Then, as we have before stated, the price 
 of provisions is enormously high. Rent is 
 3* 
 
30 HOTELS. 
 
 enormously high. And it would be expecting 
 more, than any man acquainted with "human 
 natur," especially with tavern-keepers' " na- 
 tur" — ought to expect of them, that they 
 should charge a moderate price for their ac- 
 commodations. 
 
 All, or nearly all these hotels are situated 
 in the southerly part of the city, and most of 
 them in the three lower wards. There they 
 are convenient to the steamboat landings, and 
 also to the business operations of the city. 
 Nearly half of the whole number are situated 
 in Broadway ; and these, with two or three 
 exceptions, no further north than the Park. 
 
 The principal hotels in New York are the 
 following, namely: In Broadway, commen- 
 cing at the Battery, the Atlantic Hotel, Sey- 
 mour &Anderson ; Mansion house. Bunker ; 
 Globe Hotel, Blanchard ; Varick House, Bean ; 
 City Hotel, Cruttenden & Mather ; National 
 Hotel, Carr ; Congress Hall, Mrs. Sherman; 
 Southern Hotel, Otter ; T'ranklin House, 
 Hayes ; Astor House, Boyden & Son ; Ame- 
 rican Hotel, Milford ; Washington Hotel, 
 
HOTELS. 31 
 
 Ward; Athenaeum, Windust : In Cortland^ 
 street, commencing at the Ferry, Northern 
 Hotel, Harrison ; Orange County House, 
 Dunning ; Otsego House, Van Pelt ; Wes- 
 tern Hotel, Brown ; York House, Williston : 
 Greenwich street. Pacific Hotel, Nichols & 
 Jessup : Broad street. Exchange Hotel, How- 
 ard : Pearl street, the Pearl Street House, 
 Flint ; Eastern Pearl Street House, Foster : 
 Fulton street, Holt's Hotel : Beekman street, 
 Clinton Hotel, Hodges & Son : Bowery, 
 North American Hotel, Bartlett : Park Row, 
 Lovejoy's Hotel ; Nassau street, Tammany 
 Hall, Lovejoy & Howard; Custom House 
 Hotel, Horn. 
 
 The three last are kept on the " European 
 plan," or in the English mode, of separating 
 the two important concerns of bed and board. 
 In taking the first, you are under no obliga- 
 tions to take the last. You consult your own 
 convenience both as to time and place. You 
 may eat at your landlord's, if you please, and 
 you may order what you please ; but this has 
 no connection with your bill for lodging, and 
 
32 HOTELS. 
 
 you pay down on the nail for what you have 
 eaten. This plan has been only introduced 
 here within five or six years. 
 
 The other hotels are kept on the old plan. 
 A long table — or what is called in France a 
 table (Thote — is furnished daily, at a certain 
 hour, which, in most of the houses, is 3 o'clock. 
 A few, out of Broadway, dine at 2; and some 
 of those in Broadway — ^such as the Astor 
 House, the American, and perhaps some 
 others, set an extra table at 5, for the accom- 
 modation of foreigners, or such aspiring 
 Americans as are anxious to prove their aris- 
 tocracy by going hungry to that late hour. 
 
 The table d'hote is more sociable than the 
 refectory. At the latter you discuss your 
 beefsteak, your chicken, or whatever you 
 have ordered, alone, and with plenty of elbow 
 room. At the former you eat in company 
 with one or two hundred, to the music of as 
 many knives and forks, and usually so crowd- 
 ed together that your elbows are pinned down 
 to your sides like the wings of a trussed fowl. 
 But, besides the greater sociability of eating 
 
HOTELS. 33 
 
 in a crowd, there is another advantage, par- 
 ticularly to an irresolute or absent minded man, 
 in dining at the table d'hote — it saves him the 
 necessity of studying the particular dish he 
 would prefer, since every thing is spread out 
 to his eye, and the laborious effort, either of 
 thinking or of memory, is not required in 
 making the choice. We are acquainted with 
 a man of science, who thinks this a most 
 important item in favor of the table d'hote 
 over the refectory. In point of elbow room, in 
 command of time, and in cheapness, if a man 
 so chooses, the latter has decidedly the ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 The price of lodging per week, at the Cus- 
 tom House Hotel, is $2,50. At Tammany 
 Hall and at Lovejoy's it varies from $2,50 to 
 $3,50, according as your room is situated, up 
 one or more pair of stairs — the price being 
 lower, the nearer you approach heaven ; and 
 higher, the closer you cling to earth. In the 
 eating department of these houses, the price 
 of a meal consisting of one dish, varies from 
 12J to 3U cents. 
 
34 HOTELS. 
 
 In the hotels on the old plan the price of 
 bed and board, per day, varies from $1,50 to 
 $2,50. The latter is the price at the Astor 
 House. The other houses in Broadway, for 
 the most part, if not all, charge $2,00. The 
 Clinton Hotel does the same. In the other 
 streets, from $1,50 to $1,75 is the price. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THEATRES* 
 
 "Much ado about nothing." — ShaKspiare. 
 "A very frampold life." — Ibid. 
 
 Next to the hotels, the prime sources of en- 
 tertainment are the theatres. Some persons 
 make them the first, and postpone the subject 
 of eating, drinking, and lodging, to the more 
 alluring one of theatricals. But most people 
 are prudent enough first to " take thought for 
 the morrow, what they shall eat and what 
 they shall drink," and whereon they shall 
 sleep, before they devote themselves to theat- 
 rical entertainments. 
 
 We would not have the reader infer from 
 this, that they first pay — or provide the ways 
 and means for paying — for the necessaries of 
 life. That is, with many o( them, an after- 
 thought — a thing to be attended to at their 
 
36 THEATRES. 
 
 perfect convenience ; or, what is more con- 
 venient still, not to be attended to at all. But 
 at the theatres there is no trust. The system 
 of credit is unknown. Tickets cannot be 
 had " on tick." The ready cash, therefore, 
 is necessary for the manager, let the landlord 
 or the landlady come off as they will. The 
 latter as well as the former, we arc charitable 
 enough to hope, are in a majority of instances, 
 paid. 
 
 JNIost persons who come to the city, or who 
 reside here, at some time or other attend the 
 theatre ; unless they are restrained by religious 
 scruples. All strictly religious persons, of 
 course, abstain. Besides these, there are a 
 good many others, not strictly religious, who 
 are seldom or never seen at the theatres, 
 because they either care little or nothing for a 
 play; because they think they can amuse them, 
 selves better in some other mode ; because 
 they deem theatricals immoral ; or because 
 they cannot conscientiously bestow ^money 
 on mere matters of amusement of any kind, 
 while they have families to maintain, children 
 
THEATRES. 37 
 
 to educate, or other concerns of decided im- 
 portance, which have an unquestionable de- 
 mand upon their purse. 
 
 But there are others — -and the number is 
 pretty large — who seem to think of little else 
 in the world but theatricals. They attend 
 the theatres every night. They talk of the 
 theatres every day. They criticise, they 
 spout, they hum snatches of songs, they de- 
 bate on the merits of their favorite actors or 
 actresses, they eulogize the beauty, the grace, 
 the tenderness of Miss such a one, they pro- 
 claim aloud the vigor, the pathos, the startling 
 force, and effective points of Mr. such a one. 
 Theatricals are never out of their thoughts, 
 and rarely out of their mouths. They seem 
 to have found in Plays what the Platonists 
 were looking for — the summum bonum — the 
 greatest good. They use them as Boniface did 
 his ale : they eat, drink, and sleepupon them. 
 At least they dream of them when asleep, and 
 have them constantly in their mouths when 
 awake. 
 
 4 
 
38 THEATRES. 
 
 There are supposed to be, on an average, 
 about 5000 persons nightly attendmg the dif- 
 ferent theatres in New York. Of these, 
 nearly, or quite, one half are strangers. 
 Hence the theatres are always best filled dur- 
 ing the spring and autumn, when there are 
 most country merchants, and other persons 
 from abroad, in the city. 
 
 The number of theatres in all is five. Of 
 these the most ancient is the Park, situated in 
 Park Row, and facing the southern part of 
 the enclosure called the Park. It was first 
 built in the year 1797, just forty years since, 
 and just forty-four after the building of the 
 first theatre in this city, which Dunlap informs 
 us, was in Nassau street, where the old Dutch 
 Church now stands. 
 
 The Park Theatre was burnt in 1820. 
 The next year it was rebuilt, and reopened, 
 with a prize address from Mr. Sprague. It 
 is still under the management, as it has been 
 for the last twenty years, of Price & Simpson. 
 It is, we believe, the most capacious of all the 
 theatres ; and ranks as number one in the ex- 
 
THEATRES. ^^ 
 
 cellence of its performances, and in the value, 
 politeness, and intelligence of its audiences. 
 The price of admittance to the box.es is $1 ; 
 pit, 50 cents ; gallery, 25 cents. 
 
 Next in age to the Park, is the Ame- 
 rican Theatre, formerly called the Bowery, 
 It was first built in the year 1826. It has 
 been twice burnt to the ground : the first 
 time in the year 1828; and the last in the 
 year 1836. It was each time rebuilt in the 
 short space of about two months. It is lo- 
 cated in that spacious street called the Bowery 
 a little above Chatham Square, and about half 
 a mile northeast of the Park. It is under the 
 management of Mr. Dinneford. The price 
 of admittance to the boxes is 75 cents ; pit, 
 37J cents; gallery, 25 cents. The au- 
 dience here is different from that at the Park- 
 being, in general, less fashionable, less polite, 
 not quite as well dressed, nor quite so intelli- 
 gent ; but, we believe quite as attentive to the 
 performances, which are, for the most part, 
 respectable. 
 
 Next comes the National Theatre, at 
 
40 THEATRES. 
 
 the corner of Church and Leonard streets. 
 It was built for the Italian Opera, by a com- 
 pany of g-entlemen, who wished to introduce 
 that species of theatricals into New York, 
 But they pretty soon found that Americans 
 are not endued with Italian ears ; and, more- 
 over, that the finest music, when accompanied 
 with words which are not understood, soon 
 ceases to please. Those who at first affected 
 to be in raptures with the performances, 
 in a very short time dropped off; and the 
 Italian Opera House was changed into a thea^ 
 tre for the enactment of English plays, and re- 
 christened by the name of the National. It 
 is next in size and respectability to the Park. 
 The prices are the same. The manager is 
 Mr. Hackett, the celebrated American come- 
 dian. 
 
 Next is the Franklin Theatre — the " lit- 
 tle Franklin," as it is not improperly called. 
 It is situated in Chatham Square, at no great 
 distance from the American Theatre, and 
 hke the last, is also under the management of 
 Mr. Dinneford. Its size may be about half 
 
THEATRES. 
 
 41 
 
 that of one of the others. The price of the 
 boxes is 50 cents; the pit, 25; gallery we be- 
 lieve it has none. 
 
 The fifth and last is the Richmond Hill 
 Theatre, which, out of respect to its age, 
 should have preceded the National and the 
 Franklin. It takes its name from the former 
 seat of the celebrated Colonel Aaron Burr, of 
 which building it is partly formed, and through 
 which is the entrance to the boxes, pit, &c. 
 In size it is much about the same as the "little 
 Franklin," and its prices are the same. It 
 has been for the last year or two under the 
 management of females : first, of Mrs. Ham- 
 blin ; and since, of Miss Nelson. Under such 
 fair management the gallantry of New York 
 should have afforded it a fair support. But 
 it has been permitted to languish; and we be- 
 lieve is at present closed. 
 
 4* 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 CHURCHES. 
 
 These walls we to thy honor raise ; 
 
 Long may they echo to thy praise — Doddridge. 
 
 In touching upon places of public resort, it 
 was due, perhaps, to the churches to name 
 them before the theatres : for, though public 
 attention is divided between them, it is nearly 
 all on the side of the churches, of which there 
 ara at least thirty to one theatre. 
 
 There are, in all, about 150 churches, or 
 religious societies, in New York. If we sup- 
 pose their congregations, on an average, to 
 amount to 1000 each — and this we think is 
 not rating them too high — there are assembled 
 weekly in this city 150,000 worshippers — or 
 one half the entire population. The balance, 
 then, in favor of church-going, and against 
 the theatres, is just equal to 29 in every 30 
 
CHURCHES. 43 
 
 persons. So much does the taste in this great 
 metropoUs, run on the side of religion, and so 
 much more popular are sermons than plays. 
 
 It would not, however, be quite fair to esti- 
 mate the comparative popularity of plays and 
 sermons by the number of persons on a given 
 time attending each. Some of those, who are 
 regular theatre-goers, are also regular church 
 goers : and if they fill their box at the thea- 
 tre every week-day evening, so in like man- 
 ner do they fill their pew at church every 
 Sunday. 
 
 But there is another reason why sermons 
 are better attended than plays — they are less 
 expensive. It will cost a man some hundreds 
 of dollars per annum for a nightly ticket at 
 the theatre ; while it will scarcely cost him 
 so many cents for admission at a church twice 
 every Sunday. Nay, for that matter, it need 
 not cost him any thing if he chooses to go 
 free. The doors of all the churches are open 
 to all who wish to enter, provided they demean 
 themselves in a sober and orderly manner. 
 But if a man take a pew, or otherwise con- 
 
44 CHURCHES. 
 
 tribute his full share to the support of public 
 worship, the expense is trifling indeed com- 
 pared with that of a nightly attendance on the 
 drama. 
 
 Another thing, which decides many in favor 
 of the church, is — in the estimation of a com- 
 munity so religious as ours — the superior re- 
 spectability of the church to that of the thea- 
 tre. This has no inconsiderable influence. 
 The opinion of friends, relations, and ac- 
 quaintance, diverts many from the theatre and 
 directs many to the church, who, in their se- 
 cret hearts, would prefer a play to a sermon ; 
 and whose ears would be more delighted with 
 the profane sounds of the orchestra than with 
 the sacred music of the choir. 
 
 Another motive for attending church, pre- 
 ferably to the theatre, is its superior advantage 
 for exhibiting the charms of person and dress. 
 For this, the church, being mostly attended in 
 the daytime instead of the night, is far better 
 calculated than the theatre. Then the going 
 to and returning from the house of worship, 
 aflfords the fairest opportunities that could be 
 
CHURCHES. 45 
 
 desired for exhibiting an elegant dress or a 
 comely person. We dare hardly ascribe it to 
 personal vanity — because the fair sex are con- 
 stitutionally devout : and yet whoever will at- 
 tend the church and the theatre, will find the 
 balance of female beauty, in proportion to the 
 numbers attending each, immensely on the 
 side of the church. Perhaps it is not so much 
 their beauty that leads them to the church, as 
 the offices of devotion that contribute to their 
 beauty. 
 
 But after making all due allowance for 
 those who attend church from motives not 
 strictly religious, there will still remain so 
 large a proportion of church-goers from more 
 pious motives, as cannot fail to convince the 
 most sceptical, that New York is essentially a 
 devout community ; and that however great 
 the popularity of plays and farces, still greater 
 ■ — immensely greater- — is that of prayers and 
 sermons. 
 
 We have stated the number of churches in 
 New York to be 150. It would take up more 
 room than we can spare to give their names 
 
46 CHURCHES. 
 
 and locations. For information on these 
 points, we would refer the reader to the Sun- 
 day Morning News, where he will find in a 
 regular list, published weekly, the names and 
 situations of all the churches, as well likewise 
 as the names of all their pastors. But if he 
 is conscientiously scrupulous against taking up 
 a newspaper on Sunday, and is desirous to 
 find some place of worship, he can scarcely 
 go amiss in a city so abounding with places 
 devoted to the public services of the sanctuary. 
 Of all the numerous sects into which this 
 religious community is divided, the Presby- 
 terians are the most numerous, having no less 
 than 39 churches. Next to these are the 
 Episcopalians, who have 29. The Baptists 
 have 20 ; the Methodists of all sorts, Wes- 
 leyan and Independent, 20; Dutch Reformed 
 14; Roman Catholic, 6; Universalist, 4; 
 Orthodox, or Trinitarian, Quakers, 1 ; Hick- 
 site, or Unitarian Quakers, 3 ; Congrega- 
 tionalists, 2 ; Unitarians, 2 ; Lutherans, 2 ; 
 Moravians, 1 ; Svvedenborgians, 1 ; Chris- 
 tian, 1 ; German Reformed, 1 ; Mariner's 
 Church, 1 : total 147 Christian churches. 
 
CHURCHES. 47 
 
 Add to these 3 Jewish Synagogues, and you 
 have the whole number of 150. 
 
 These have meetings for public worship 
 from one to three times every Sunday : ex- 
 cept the Jews, whose Sabbath is on the se- 
 venth day of the week. Of course, as the 
 Israelites are too small a number to do busi- 
 ness successfully, without Christian aid, they 
 have also a second day of rest, on the first day 
 of the week. 
 
 Besides these religious societies, there is a 
 congregation of Atheists who meet regularly 
 on Sunday, at Tammany Hall. 
 
 These different sects for the most part, 
 walk together — or rather walk apart — in great 
 harmony. They agree perfectly well, to dif- 
 fer, with few exceptions. Among these ex- 
 ceptions, for instance, the Atheist, sneers at 
 the Christian; while the Christian, on the 
 contrary, descends from his dignity to lash the 
 Atheist. 
 
 But the most bitter animosity prevails be- 
 tween certain of the different sects of Chris- 
 tians ; or rather perhaps, it should be said, 
 
48 CHURCHES. 
 
 between the leaders of these different sects, 
 These are, m general the Roman Catholics 
 on the one side, and the Protestants on the 
 other. But the more particular and bitter di- 
 vision is between certain of the pastors of the 
 Dutch Reformed and of the Roman Catho- 
 lic Churches. Hence that great war of words 
 recently waged between those great guns of 
 controversy, Dr. Brownlee and Dr. Power. 
 Calvin and the reformation on the one side, 
 and the Pope and the scarlet woman on the 
 other. Hence too the justification of that 
 most atrocious arson, the burning of the 
 Charlestown Convent ; and turning naked 
 upon the world innocent and defenceless fe- 
 males. And hence the encouragement of 
 that foul imposture, the Awful Disclosures of 
 Maria Monk ; and hence the religious belief, 
 three hundred and fifty miles from the spot 
 where they are alleged to have been commit- 
 ted, of enormities which nobody credits on 
 the spot itself ! 
 
 But New York, as we have said, is essen- 
 tially a religious community. The pastors are 
 
CHURCHES. 49 
 
 religious and the people are religious. But 
 some few of the shepherds cry wolf when 
 there is no wolf; thus endeavoring to frighten, 
 and often succeeding, in frightening their 
 flocks without any just cause. 
 
 All travelling, as they are, heavenward, the 
 different sects of the truly religious are for 
 the most part inclined to walk very lovingly 
 together ; and would get on their way with 
 few or no quarrels, if certain of their over- 
 zealous pastors did not set them, most unchari- 
 tably, to railing, abusing, and throwing dirt 
 and stones at one another. 
 
 The Roman Catholics now — even in the 
 19th century, and in the 37th year of this cen- 
 tury — are the great bugaboo to frighten the 
 Protestant babes. The Pope of Rome is com- 
 ing hither, with hasty strides, to take the land. 
 His great toe is already on our shores ; and his 
 whole foot — nay, both feet — are expected to 
 be here anon. He has got six churches out of 
 one hundred and fifty, in the city of New York; 
 and unless suddenly arrested in his course, 
 5 
 
50 CHURCHES. 
 
 will infallibly lay his hand on the remaining 
 one hundred and forty-four ! 
 
 But how is he to be arrested ? By reason, 
 — by argument— by christian charity 1 No : 
 his own weapons are to be turned against him 
 — violence, imposture, and deceit: 
 
 " For if the devil, to serve his turn, 
 Can tell truth, why the saints should scorn 
 When it serves theirs, to swear and lie, 
 I think there's little reason why ; 
 Else h' has greater power than they, 
 Which 'twere impiety to say." 
 
 If the Papists practice Jesuitism to advance 
 their cause, why should not the Protestants 
 make use of the same carnal weapons to op- 
 pose them 1 
 
 Such seems to be the reasoning and such 
 the practice of a few of the most violent anti- 
 Catholics in New-York. But we believe they 
 have not a very large number of backers, 
 either in opinion or practice : the majority of 
 the Protestants having little dread of the 
 Pope, and less inclination to adopt, against him 
 
CHURCHES. 51 
 
 and his followers, those methods of imposture 
 and deceit wherewith he and they were ac- 
 customed, in earlier times, to maintain their 
 power over the consciences and minds of 
 men. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 When shall we three meet again ? — Macbeth. 
 
 Sir, I shall have law in Ephesus. — Comedy of Erroes. 
 
 Take physic, pomp. — King Lear. 
 
 Say but the word, and I will be his priest. — Henry VI. 
 
 The members of the three learned professions 
 in New York amount, in all, to about 1400. 
 We have already stated the number of 
 churches to be 150. Most of these have one 
 pastor each. Some of them have more than 
 one : as in the case of the Middle and North 
 Dutch Reformed Churches, where three pas- 
 tors are employed in the care of two flocks ; 
 the South Dutch Church, where two pastors 
 preside over one flock ; and in St. George's 
 and Christ's Church, (Episcopal,) which are 
 equally well provided with pastors. On the 
 
LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 53 
 
 other hand, there are some churches which 
 have not so much as one clergyman a-piece ; 
 hut content themselves by uniting in associa- 
 tions of two, or more, under one pastor : as 
 in the case of St. Michael's, St. James's, St. 
 Mary's, and St. Ann's. Some churches, per- 
 haps, are without any regular preacher ; and 
 there are some preachers without any 
 churches. On the whole, therefore we shall 
 not err in estimating the number of preachers 
 to be equal to the number of churches : that 
 is 150 in all; giving to each an average of 
 2000 souls. 
 
 The number of persons engaged in the care 
 of bodies and estates is much larger : a striking 
 proof, either, that the people consider these 
 latter possessions of much more value than 
 the former ; or, if not of more value, at least 
 that they require much more care and expense 
 in their preservation. 
 
 Taking the 150 clergymen from the whole 
 
 number engaged in the learned professions, 
 
 and there remain, to be divided amongst the 
 
 doctors and lawyers, 1250 : of whom 650 are 
 
 5* 
 
54 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 lawyers, and the remaining 600, doctors. If, 
 therefore, we divide the population among 
 them in equitable proportions, each lawyer 
 will have about 461 J persons to his share, and 
 each doctor 500. If body and estate, in this 
 great metropolis, be not well taken care of, 
 it will evidently not be for lack of numbers in 
 the professions of law and physic. 
 
 It is related of a young M. D., that, having 
 put his " sheepskin" in his pocket, he travelled 
 towards the West, in search of a place to ped- 
 dle pills. " This is a new country," said he, 
 *' and I shall have it all to myself. There 
 will be no competition here." Poor fellow ! 
 he was not aware that there is no place so 
 new as to be free from competition in the 
 practice of his art. He travelled on — and still 
 further on — inquiring every where for a " va- 
 cancy." But the prospect grew worse ; until 
 at length, he came to where two physicians 
 were riding on one horse. At this sight he 
 turned about and came home again : thinking 
 it better to get a very limited practice in a 
 city, where he could attend his patients on 
 
LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 55 
 
 foot, than be reduced in a new country, with 
 bad roads, and a sparse population, to the ne- 
 cessity of riding double. 
 
 In considering the great number of lawyers 
 and doctors, in proportion to the number of 
 inhabitants, it will naturally be asked how they 
 all — i. e. the lawyers and doctors — live. Some 
 will answer, that they do not live, but merely 
 stay. We will not make so nice distinction ; 
 but suppose the stayers to be also livers. 
 
 If we suppose each man, woman, and 
 child to pay, on an average, $1 50 per annum 
 for medical attendance, then each physician 
 in New York — allowing " the spoils" were 
 divided equally — would receive ^750. This 
 would decently maintain a single man ; but 
 leave nothing for wife and children. 
 
 The division of profits, however, is very far 
 from being equal. We will suppose the whole 
 number of doctors to be divided into jEive equal 
 classes, which will give 120 to each class. 
 Of the $450,000 paid to the whole, the first 
 class, consisting of the oldest, most eminent, 
 and best known, may be safely calculated to 
 
56 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 get $240,000 ; which gives tliem an average 
 of $2,000 each. Here is more than half the 
 practice — or rather we should say, more than 
 half the pay— goes to one fifth of the physicians. 
 They do not actually, we suppose, do the 
 drudgery of more than a third part of the 
 practice. But they attend the best, in other 
 words, the wealthiest, families. The slight 
 colds, the pin-scratches, the imaginary or 
 magnified complaints of the tenderly^nursed 
 and the luxurious fall to their share. The 
 light labor and the heavy pay, the empty aiU 
 ments and the full purse, these are the com- 
 fortable circumstances attending their practice. 
 The remaining $210,000 go to the remain- 
 ing 480 doctors — giving them, on an average, 
 about $437. But here again, there must be 
 another unequal division. Though these are 
 all obliged to pass for the lesser stars in the 
 medical firmament, they are not all supposed 
 by any means to twinkle with equal lustre. 
 Some of these doctors will inevitably be more 
 famous than the rest , and, in farmers' phrase 
 will " cut a wider swath." They will get 
 
LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 57 
 
 more practice and better pay. So that one 
 fourth of the remaining' 480 doctors will get 
 more than one half of the remaining $210,000; 
 say $120,000, or $1000 each : leaving only 
 $90,000 to be divided among the other 360 
 physi iians ; which will give to each a divi- 
 dend of $250. 
 
 But the division of this remaining pittance 
 is not yet to be equalized. We must sup- 
 pose one third of the remaining doctors to be 
 more learned, more obsequious, more fortu- 
 nate, or older practitioners than the rest. 
 This more happy portion will take $60,000 of 
 what money remains : giving to each an aver- 
 age of $500. There then remains $30,000 
 to be divided among the balance of 240 doc- 
 tors : giving to each a share of $125. 
 
 But they are not yet to go ** share and share 
 alike." The fourth class must inevitably be 
 better, older, or more lucky fellows than the 
 fifth ; and will, in all probability, get $24,000 
 of the remaining $30,000 ; or $200 on an 
 average : leaving just $4,000 to be divided 
 among the remaining 120 doctors — and giving 
 to each an average of $33 J. 
 
58 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 The first class, with economy, may support 
 a wife and children The second class may 
 rub hard, and support a wife. The third 
 class may rub hard, and go single. But in re- 
 gard to the fourth and hfth classes, the ques- 
 tion will naturally be repeated — how do they 
 live ] They must make some little show. 
 They must have an office — or some decent 
 or convenient place, where they may be found 
 — and that among decent and respectable 
 people. They must have a good c.:at to their 
 back. An obscure garret and a shabby coat, 
 after the manner of a poet, will not answer. 
 A pill is all the more popular for gilding. 
 
 But there is very little chance for this gild- 
 ing, on the small income of $33^, or even the 
 larger one of $200. The last will pay for 
 board at a very moderate rate ; and leave 
 nothing for clothing, office rent, books, instru- 
 ments, &c. The first would scarcely furnish 
 the most moderate smoker in the luxury of 
 segars. 
 
 How do these unfortunate 240 — and espe- 
 cially the most unfortunate moiety of them 
 
LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 59 
 
 live ? But before we pretend to make 
 any conjectures as to the modus v'wendi of 
 these sons of iEsculapiiis, we will look a 
 little at the condition of the 650 "limbs of the 
 law." And here we shall find that the vota- 
 ries of Themis are no better rewarded than 
 those of the god of medicine. 
 
 The emoluments of the lawyers, and the 
 divisions and gradations of their emoluments, 
 may be reckoned about the same as those of 
 the doctors. The smaller number pocket 
 the greater portion of the fees. They sit 
 down at the first table : and the fattest pieces, 
 the most capital joints, the most delicious vi- 
 ands are theirs. What is left — the broken 
 meats, the leaner joints — ^go to their more nu- 
 merous, but less fortunate, brethren ; a part 
 of whom, at the close of the repast, are forced 
 to take up with the mere crumbs which have 
 fallen from the previous tables. 
 
 The young lawyer, like the young doctor, 
 must wait upon business — or wait/or business. 
 He must be always in a situation to receive it. 
 He must have an office — and that in some 
 
60 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 come-at-able place. The sign at his door must 
 not direct you to a "passage that leads to 
 nothing." He must make an appearance of 
 doing something — whether he does it or not. 
 A decent coat he must likewise have upon his 
 back and a shirt-collar on his neck ; though this 
 perhaps is not so requisite as to the physician, 
 inasmuch as the business of the lawyer lies al- 
 most wholly with those of his own sex, while 
 that of the physician brings him more fre- 
 quently in the presence of the women : with 
 whom a spruce outside is no despisable letter 
 of recommendation. Meat and lodging the 
 lawyer must have. Without those prime ar- 
 ticles — especially the former — he cannot ex- 
 pect strength of lungs to plead the causes 
 which he has — in expectancy. 
 
 If our estimates of the emoluments of law 
 and physic be correct (and we are assured, 
 by members of those professions, that they 
 are quite high enough,) then it appears that 
 there are 250 lawyers and physicians whose 
 receipts are each but $200 per annum ; and 
 
LAW, PHYSIC y AND DIVINITY. 61 
 
 the same number, who receive no more than 
 a sixth part of that sum ! 
 
 How do all these live 1 " Upon hope," says 
 one ; " upon faith," says another, " upon ex- 
 pectation," says a third. All these are mighty 
 clever things, truly ; and will answer, like 
 pepper and salt to season one's meat and pro- 
 mote one's digestion. But they will not do in 
 the place of meat itself. Though the young 
 physician or lawyer cannot w^ell do without 
 them, he cannot well live upon them alone. 
 Faith may remove mountains ; and yet no 
 doctor or lawyer would dare rely upon it for 
 a loaf of bread. Hope deferred maketh the 
 heart sick ; and expectation, however strenu- 
 ously indulged,- will never purchase a dinner. 
 
 Others perhaps will answer the question, 
 how do they live ] by saying, they have 
 wealthy parents ; or they enjoy a patrimony ; 
 or, in short, that they are blest with the means 
 of living, independent of their profession. If 
 they were so blest, they had never studied law 
 or physic. The very fact, of their having be- 
 taken themselves to either of these professions, 
 is, in most cases, sufficient proof that they 
 6 
 
62 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 have not the command of other means of live- 
 lihood. In general, they have no family 
 wealth. They are the sons of fathers who 
 have nothing to give them ; who, in many in- 
 stances, could not give them even their- pro- 
 fession ; and in others, having labored hard 
 to give them that, have sent them into the 
 world with that as their sole patrimony. 
 
 But you have not yet told us how they live. 
 Dear, kind, curious reader, we cannot tell 
 thee what we do not know. We presume 
 they have intelligent friends — ask them. 
 
 The condition of the clergy — take them as 
 a whole — presents a hrighter picture. In a 
 mere worldly point of view, they choose bet- 
 ter than the votaries of law or physic. They 
 have more of " the promise of the life that 
 now is," to say nothing " of that which is to 
 come." True, clergymen are rarely so well 
 paid, as to get rich on their profession. None 
 of them, however able or popular, receive as 
 much money per annum as some of the most 
 eminent lawyers or doctors. The highest 
 
LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 63 
 
 clerical salary in New York is $5000,"^ while 
 some of the ablest, or most fortunate, lawyers 
 and physicians make J^ 10,000. 
 
 But if none of the clergy get as much mo- 
 ney as some of the physicians or lawyers, so, 
 on the other hand, do none of them get so lit- 
 tle as some of the latter. The emoluments 
 are more equally divided. There is a more 
 equitable distribution of the good things of 
 this life. While, not above one or two of the 
 pastors in New York, receive more than ^3000 
 salary per annum : so, probably, there are few 
 who get much below $1000. But, in addition 
 to the salary, they have a house rent free, 
 which is worth from three hundred to a thou- 
 sand more. They also get comfortable sums 
 for lighting the torch of Hymen. The niar- 
 riage fee — allowing them, on an average, to 
 unite one hundred couples in a year, at the 
 
 * This is the salary of the rector of the associate churches 
 of St. Paul's, St. John's, and Trinity. Since writing the 
 above, we are informed that a fund has been raised for the 
 support of the Bishop of New York, called the Episcopal 
 Fund, and the income of which — amounting to upwards of 
 $6000 — goes entirely to the Bishop. 
 
64 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 moderate rate of five dollars each — will 
 amount to $500 in the whole. 
 
 Then, in addition to the salary, the house- 
 rent, and the perquisite of marrying, there are 
 presents of many a good thing from the church- 
 members and parishioners : broadcloth for 
 the parson, bed and table linen for the par- 
 son's wife, and shoes and stockings for the 
 parson's children. In short, not to mention 
 every thing, the number of articles which the 
 minister and his family are found to want, 
 and which their friends are found to supply, 
 are very numerous and of very great conve- 
 nience. 
 
 From this it is evident that the condition of 
 the clergy, as a body, is infinitely more com- 
 fortable than that of the members of the two 
 other learned professions. This is particularly 
 the case with the younger branches of the 
 clerical profession, as compared with the 
 same branch in law and physic. They are 
 not obliged to grow grey in attaining to a 
 competency, and perhaps miss it at last. They 
 seem to have no up-hill work in their profes- 
 
LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 65 
 
 sion. They are provided for, in some way 
 or other, from the beginning. If they have 
 talent, if they have a good voice, a good 
 figure, and good address in the pulpit — it is 
 immediately known, because opportunity is 
 readily accorded them for their display ; while 
 the lawyer and the physician, may wait, per^ 
 haps for years, without an opportunity to 
 show their talents, if they have any. But 
 the minister, whether he have much capacity 
 or little, whether he have five talents or one, 
 is conscientiously provided for among his 
 religious brethren. They have too much 
 christian charity to see him suffer from pov- 
 erty and want. 
 
 6* 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ROGUES. 
 
 There's ne'er a villain, dwelling in all Denmark, 
 But he's an arrant knave. — Hamlet. 
 
 My dear Dick Riker ! you and I 
 
 Have floated down life's stream together, 
 And kept unharmed our friendship's tie 
 Through every change of fortune's sky — 
 
 Her pleasant and her rainy weather. — Halleck. 
 
 New York, amidst her great variety of all 
 sorts of things, good, bad, and indifferent, is 
 not without her share of rogues. Indeed it 
 would be St miracle if she were. It would be 
 worth telling of amongst her sister cities. But 
 it is a piece of news, we fear, she will not have 
 to tell until the days of the millenium. While 
 mankind are morally constituted as at pres- 
 ent ; while considerable depravity is mixed up 
 with no small share of good : there must be 
 
ROGUES, 67 
 
 an every place a greater or less " sprinkling" 
 of bad fellows ; and, in a city of three hund- 
 red thousand inhabitants, it is not at all sur- 
 prising if they should fall upon us in a very 
 -considerable shower. 
 
 A great city may be considered as the 
 mother — the *' nursing mother" of rogues. 
 A great city affords them aliment ; and they 
 do so much credit to their keeping as to 
 *' grow by what they feed on." They not 
 only find aliment in a great city, but they 
 also find security. They hide themselves in 
 the crowd. They find holes and lurking 
 places, where they lie perdue, until the cry 
 of thief is over ; when they come boldly forth 
 and prowl as before. 
 
 Not only do they find security, after they 
 have gotten the spoils, but they find it an 
 easy matter to get them, with a little ingenu- 
 ity. They sometimes even find the owners 
 ready to help them to what they want: as 
 happened, two or three years since, to a 
 black thief, who was seen, by a boarder, busily 
 at work stealing coats in the hall of one o 
 
68 ROGUES. 
 
 our principal hotels. " What are you doing 
 with those coats, you black rascal ?" said the 
 boarder. *' I'm jist 'gwine to take 'em home 
 to scour 'em," answered the thief, with great 
 presence of mind and without changing color 
 in the least. "Oh, you are, ha?" said the 
 boarder ; " well, here take mine and scour it 
 too." With that he handed him his own 
 coat, and the black marched securely off. 
 
 But if New York be pretty well supplied 
 
 with rogues, so also is it pretty well supplied 
 
 with rogue-takers. Who has not heard of 
 
 High Constable Hays — better known by the 
 
 name of "Old Haysf" What thief, what 
 
 robber, what counterfeiter hath not trembled 
 
 at his name ? What villain hath not stood in 
 
 greater awe of him than of the devil, or his 
 
 own conscience ? Not old Izaac Walton, of 
 
 piscatory memory, did ever hook so many of 
 
 the finny tribe as Old Hays hath seized of 
 
 land-sharks. He knows a thief as far as he 
 
 can see him. That keen, dark eye of his looks 
 
 him through. Not Solomon, in all his glory, 
 
 could tell a thief with half the precision as 
 
ROGUES. 69 
 
 his brother Israelite, the High Constable of 
 New-York. 
 
 We would write the life of Old Hays, had 
 it not been already done (and in a manner 
 so much better than we could pretend to) in 
 the columns of the Mirror, and by that excel- 
 lent genius, William Cox. 
 
 Besides the High Constable — who has now 
 grown grey in nabbing thieves — there is a 
 powerful corps of younger gentlemen engaged 
 m the same laudable practice : such as Ho- 
 mans. Sparks, Merritt, Huntington, A. M. C. 
 Smith, and a number of others ; all of whose 
 names daily figure in the police reports as the 
 captors of such and such lots of rogues, as 
 have had the imprudence, or the ill fortune, 
 to fall into their hands. 
 
 Rogues, with all their cunning, are aptt o 
 make sad mistakes. They are, for the most 
 part, bad generals. Though they lay their 
 plans of attack well, they are exceedingly apt 
 to fail in making a skilful retreat. They will 
 succeed wonderfully in seizing the spoils ; but 
 then they are seized upon themselves. With 
 
70 
 
 ROGUES. 
 
 all the hiding places in this great city, they can 
 not hide always. '1 he police officers are ever 
 upon the look-out for them, like terriers watch- 
 ing for rats. They are acquainted with their 
 haunts. And even should they find them new 
 retreats and escape for a while ; the very im- 
 punity makes them bold. They venture forth 
 more daringly, and are nabbed at last. 
 
 If one thing, more than another, secures a 
 constant succession and supply of rogues in 
 this city, it is the remarkable tenderness with 
 which they are so often treated, when caught. 
 In fact, why should they attempt to escape 
 the constables, when they stand so good a 
 chance of impunity from the judge? We say 
 chance, because Mr. Recorder Riker, who 
 has so long presided in the rogues' tribunal, 
 the Court of Sessions, is by no means uniform 
 in his acts of lenity. If John Doe escape to-^ 
 day, it does not therefore follow that Richard 
 Roe shall escape to-morrow ; even though the 
 latter has been guilty of no greater crime than 
 the former. The Recorder has his hours of 
 severity as well as of leniency. As striking 
 
KiOGUES. 71 
 
 instances of the very changeable temper 
 of Justice, in his Honor's court, may be 
 mentioned the case of Dunn, who was sen- 
 tenced to five years' imprisonment in the state 
 prison, for forging to the amount of five dot' 
 lars ; and that ofFinchley, who having forged, 
 and obtained the money, to the amount of 
 more than nine thousand dollars, was sentenced 
 to no punishment whatever. The injustice of 
 the first sentence was so glaring, that a par- 
 don was obtained and Dunn set at liberty af- 
 ter having served out a very small portion of 
 his time 
 
 On what principle Recorder Riker makes 
 up his sentences, we confess ourselves "mainly 
 ignorant." We have never heard of his toss- 
 ing a copper, shaking a die, or turning a card, 
 to determine whether a sentence should be se- 
 vere, or lenient, or no sentence at all. The 
 light sentences might be acccounted for, by 
 being pronounced after dinner, when, having 
 enjoyed a good table — 'Such as his honor's is 
 known to be — the mind is apt to be filled with 
 charity for all mankind— ^even as the body is 
 
72 ROGUES. 
 
 filled with good viands. But unluckily fo? 
 this hypothesis, the sentences of all sorts, 
 whether light or otherwise, are invariably 
 pronounced before dinner. Saturday is "sen- 
 tence day ;" and on Saturday morning the 
 Rhadamanthus of the Court of Sessions pro- 
 nounces the doom of all those who have been 
 convicted on the previous days of the week. 
 
 Many a rogue escapes by suspension of 
 sentence. This suspension, however, is not 
 acquittal, nor is it pardon. The very act of 
 suspension leaves the punishment still hang- 
 ing in terrorem over the head of the'culprit — 
 ready to fall whenever he shall so far outrage 
 the majesty of the laws as to repeat his offence 
 — and provided always., he is again caught and 
 brought before the Recorder's court. That 
 he will sin a second time, having escaped pun- 
 ishment for the first offence, is altogether 
 probable ; but it is not quite so probable that 
 he will place himself in a situation to be ar- 
 raigned before the same tribunal. He will 
 take his roguish inclinations, to a difi'erent 
 market. If he can be sure of impunity once, 
 
ROGUES. 73 
 
 he will hardly be so unreasonable as to expect 
 it a second time at the hands of the same 
 judge. 
 
 But this impunity, even for a first offence, 
 allows a wide scope for villany. By being 
 often repeated, rogues look for it as a matter 
 of course ; or if not a matter of course, as at 
 least one of great probability. They consider 
 the chance of escape quite sufficient to invite 
 the hazard of the crime. And some, who 
 have hitherto led honest lives^ seeing others 
 escape so easily in the outset of guilt, are in- 
 duced themselves to embark in the same voy- 
 age of iniquity. Nothing is more important 
 to the suppression of crime than the certainty 
 of punishment; and in this respect, as well as 
 in the leniency of many a sentence, the Court 
 of Sessions, under the present worthy incum- 
 bent, is lamentably at fault. 
 
 Another thing, which aids very materially 
 in supplying the rogue-market of this city, is 
 the lenity of his Excellency the Governor, 
 who pardons and sends back from the state 
 prisons so great a number of villains. What 
 7 
 
/4 ROGUES. 
 
 is the occasion of this gubernatorial leniency^ 
 has been matter of very serious conjecture. 
 Some have ascribed it to the prudent motive 
 of securing the support of the rogues at elec- 
 tion. But this is merely the conjecture of 
 political opponents, in which we put very lit- 
 tle faith. 
 
 From what we have said of the merciful 
 treatment of rogues both by the sentencing 
 andthepardoning power, it might be concluded 
 that our city would be actually overrun with, 
 and entirely given up to, roguery. And yet 
 such is not the case, as will be seen by the 
 following statement of all the convictions in 
 our criminal courts, during the year 1836. 
 These were : in the court of Oyer and Ter- 
 miner, 26 ; in the General Sessions, 301 ; in 
 the Special Sessions, 530 : total 857. Of 
 these, much the greater number were for small, 
 or petty larceny offences ; and for assaults and 
 batteries. Of the latter there were 264. 
 These latter though illegal acts, cannot pro- 
 perly be called rogueries : because falling out 
 with, and beating, a man, does by no means^ 
 
ROGUES. 75 
 
 imply dishonesty ; which is the essence of 
 roguery. Deducting then, the assaults and 
 batteries, and there remains only 593 convic- 
 tions for theft, robbery, forgery, and the like ; 
 which is about one to every 510 of the popu- 
 lation of this city. 
 
 This — considering the causes abovemen- 
 tioned, which so operate to the increase of 
 crime — must be allowed to speak volumes in 
 proof of the moral and virtuous disposition of 
 the people of New York. 
 
 Having had occasion to mention his honor, 
 the Recorder of this city, as so closely con- 
 nected with the subject of this chapter : it only 
 remains that we say a word respecting the 
 person and disposition of that worthy func- 
 tionary. Richard Riker is believed to be bor- 
 dering on 70 years of age. In stature he is 
 about five feet five ; and he exhibits a remarka- 
 ble fine specimen of a 
 
 " Litde, round, fat, oily man." 
 
 His head is smooth and polished ; his face 
 plump and jolly ; and his expression that of 
 
76 ROGUES. 
 
 good nature itself; which we understand is 
 his leading characteristic* To conclude : 
 we are assured by those who know — that he 
 eats well, drinks well, is a good Presbyterian, 
 and worth half a million of dollars. 
 
 The Recorder — to the sincere regret of 
 those who have business in the Court of Ses- 
 sionst — has announced his intention of retir- 
 ing from the office which he has so long held, 
 after the expiration of his present term of ser- 
 vice. Both the lawyers and the rogues will 
 have occasion to mourn that event : the for- 
 mer, because they can scarcely expect, in his 
 successor whoever he may be^ — so good-na- 
 
 * The Recorder, we are informed, is a very generous 
 landlord, and does not, like most others, take advantage of 
 the rise of property to oppress his tenants, or to turn them 
 out of doors. On the contrary, they are allowed to remain, 
 on the same rents which they paid when real estate had not 
 reached half its present value, 
 
 t There is a set of lawyers in this city, whose practice is 
 nearly all in the criminal courts, and whose principal aim 
 is to defeat tlie ends of justice : in other words, to save 
 villains from the state's prison and the gallows ; and their 
 exertions to bring oflf their clients are always in the precis^ 
 proportion to their utter worthlessness and depravity. 
 "A fellow faUing makes us wond'rous kind !" 
 
79 
 
 ROGUES. *pr 
 
 tured a man ;* and the latter because they 
 can have no hopes of so lenient a judge. 
 
 ' I^*^« gentlemen of the bar-as sometimes happens in 
 the court of Sessions-tweak each others' noses, Record r 
 
 say Gentlemen, your noses are your own, and you may 
 handle them as you please." » " you may 
 
 7# 
 
76 
 go 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 DANDIES. 
 
 He was perfumed like a milliner; 
 And 'twixt his finger and hia thumb he held 
 A pouncet box, which ever and anon 
 He gave his nose, and took't away again. 
 
 Henry Hotspur, 
 
 We hope none of the gentlemen belonging 
 to the genus dandy, will take offence at our 
 placing them in the next chapter to the genus 
 rogue. We assure them it was purely acci- 
 dental ; and furthermore, that we are not 
 aware of any such necessary and essential like- 
 ness between them as should cause them to be 
 treated of in so near a connection. It is true, 
 the rogue sometimes assumes the garb and 
 manners of a dandy, the better to conceal his 
 canning designs, and the more securely to ac- 
 complish his deep4aid plans. But we are 
 not aware that the dandy, on his part, is solici- 
 
DANDIES. 
 
 79 
 
 tous ever to appear in the garb and character 
 
 of a rogue. 
 
 In fact there is a very essential difference 
 between them. Their minds are of different 
 calibre. The rogue, though very far from be- 
 ing a wise man, is not by many degrees, so des- 
 titute of nous — to use a Greek word— or of 
 gumption to speak in the vernacular — as the 
 dandy. He has a head capable of better 
 things, if he would but use it properly ; while 
 the capacity of the dandy is not supposed, in 
 its utmost limit, to be capable of any thing 
 more weighty or of more importance, than 
 mere outside show. He is a poor unfortunate, 
 if a creature, wanting sense, may be so charac- 
 terized, merely from that circumstance. But 
 this is doubtful ; for the more empty a man's 
 head, the less likely it is to droop and to be 
 weighed down with the miseries of this life. 
 
 Like other great cities, New York has her 
 share of this class of the biped without feath- 
 ers. The whole number, after a careful esti- 
 mate, is believed to be about 3000 ; or one 
 to every hundred of the population, They 
 
^^ DANDIES. 
 
 abound more or less in every part of the city, 
 from Corker's Hook to the Battery, and 
 ifom Blooming Dale to White Hall. But 
 they are mostly to be seen in public places— 
 at the corners of streets, on the door-steps of 
 hotels, and in the various public walks. 
 
 Dandies may be divided into three classes 
 namely: chained dandies, switched dandies,' 
 and qmzzmg-glass dandies. These are so 
 distmguished, as the reader will readily con- 
 ceive, from those harmless pieces of ornament 
 which they severally wear about their persons 
 or carry in their hands. 
 
 The chained dandy is so called from a 
 go de„-or a gilded-or a brazen-chain, 
 of light workmanship, which he wears about 
 his neck, and which is attached to a watch if 
 he IS able to wear one; and to nothing at 
 all, if his pecuniary condition happens to be 
 better suited to that convenience. 
 
 The switched, or caned, dandy is so de- 
 nommated from a slender cane, or switch, 
 about the size of a pipe-stem, made of whale- 
 bone, or of steel, as the case may be, of 
 
BANDIES. 
 
 81 
 
 a shining black, neatly polished, with an 
 ivory head, a brass foot, a golden eye, and a 
 tassel of silk ; which cane or switch, he con- 
 stantly carries and switches about him, 
 
 " As a gentleman switches his cane." 
 
 The quizzing-glass dandy is so styled from 
 a small glass, either of a circular or eliptic 
 shape, set in gold or in brass, which he car- 
 ries suspended to his neck by a chain or 
 riband ; and which he whips from his bosom, 
 and applies to his eye, as often as he is intro- 
 duced to a stranger of either sex, and as often 
 as he sees a female who has any pretension 
 either to youth or beauty. 
 
 In respect to numbers, the three classes are 
 nearly equally divided. In many cases, they 
 are united in the same person. The tasselled 
 switch, the gilded chain, the everlasting 
 quizzing-glass, combine to ornament the self- 
 same character. He is a dandy of the first 
 water. He is the triple, or compound, dandy ; 
 and his head is found, on dissection, to pos- 
 sess three times the vacancy of the single, 
 simple, or uncompounded dandy, 
 
82 DANDIES. 
 
 Having such " a plentiful lack of wit," it 
 will be asked how do these gentry obtain a 
 livelihood ? For the most part, we answer, 
 they live by eating. But this is not invariably 
 the case ; as we have more than once had 
 occasion to witness : having seen them stand, 
 day after day, near the cooking apartments of 
 the refectories, where they take in with ex- 
 panded nostrils the rich steam that escapes 
 from boiled, roasted, and stewed, and passing 
 through the doors, windows, or crevices, 
 causes them to be mightily refreshed ; and all 
 without the expense of purchasing a dinner, 
 or the labor of using their jaws. 
 
 But the dandies are not all reduced to live 
 on such very light fare. Some of them have 
 fathers, some have mothers, and some have 
 uncles and aunts, who take pity on their wants 
 and supply their emptiness — of bellj^ Others 
 go upon tick. And others again — strange as 
 it may seem — are engaged in different em- 
 ployments, and receive wages. Many of 
 them are to be seen at the merchant's desk or 
 behind the counter. Having the use of hands 
 
DANDIES. 85 
 
 and the faculty of speech, they can handle 
 the yardstick, use the pen, or pronounce on 
 the price and quality of goods. Their speech, 
 however, is exceedingly parrot-like, and 
 mostly consists in the use of a single word, 
 which is applied promiscuously to all som 
 of articles. They are all '' shuperb !" 
 
 Dandies are supposed, by many, to be on 
 the increase in New York. But of that we 
 are not certain. The truth is, the race is not 
 particularly admired, and especially by the 
 ladies. The consequence is, that they have 
 little chance of getting married and thus pro- 
 pagating the species. It is believed, therefore, 
 that in time they will run out. That the race' 
 will become extinct; and, like the mammoth, 
 leave nothing behind them but their bones: 
 de mortuis nil nisi hone-um. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DOG POLICE* 
 
 But soon awonder came to light, 
 
 That showed the rogues they lied : 
 
 The man recovered of the bite, 
 
 The dog it was that died. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 There is an occasional police in New York, 
 for the restraining of dogs. But, alas ! for 
 the canine race ! it is not founded in equal 
 principles of justice as that applied to man. 
 It has no reference whatever to the char- 
 acter of the dog. It is not even asked, "what 
 evil hath he done ?" It is sufficient to say, 
 he is a dog— therefore let him die. His life 
 may have been as pure as that of Socrates. 
 He may never have done, designed, or even 
 imagined evil, against any human being ; and 
 yet he cannot escape the death of a felon, if 
 
DOG POLICE. 85 
 
 he presume, while the law is in force, so 
 much as to put his foot into any street of this 
 great metropolis. 
 
 This dog-police, we have said, is occasion- 
 al. It requires some spur in the head of the 
 city authorities to prick them on to the enact- 
 ment even of a temporary law, more bloody 
 than that of Draco himself*. There must be 
 some great out-cry against the animals. 
 '^' Mad dog !" must be frequent in the mouths 
 of the inhabitants, and especially in the col- 
 umns of the newspapers. Somebody must 
 contrive to be bitten, or attacked, or fright- 
 ened — or put in jeopardy of a fright — by 
 some sort of a dog, which must be supposed 
 to be mad — or violently suspected of being 
 inclined to madness. 
 
 No matter how the cry originates ; nor 
 whether it have any foundation in truth or 
 not. Sufficient is it, that it is full, frequent, 
 
 * The difference between our anti-canine legislators and 
 Draco, is this, that, whereas the latter ordained the punish- 
 ment of death for the smallest crime, the former inflict it 
 without any crime. 
 
 8 
 
86 
 
 DOG POLICE. 
 
 and loud. And if it happen in the dog-day^' 
 —as it generally does — it is so much the more 
 effective. The common council immediately 
 pass a law, setting a price on the head of 
 every dog that shall presume to be seen in 
 the street. Without this premium, dogs might 
 continue to run at large forever without be- 
 ing molested, notwithstanding they are out- 
 laws as often as they are out of their masters' 
 houses : for, such is the general good feeling 
 of the human race towards them, that nobody 
 would think of putting the law in force, ex- 
 cept he were well paid for it. So cruel — so 
 " foul and unnatural" — is the crime of dog- 
 murder, that money alone can induce to its 
 commission. 
 
 The last great " slaughter of the inno- 
 cents," in New- York, took place in the sum- 
 mer of 1836 ; when fifty cents was consider- 
 ed sufficient inducement to take a dog's life- 
 Two years previously — to wit, in the summer 
 of '34 — a dollar, if we mistake not, was paid 
 for the same bloody service. Why the cor- 
 poration made so great a deduction last year 
 
DOG POLICE. 37 
 
 -especially as the price of every other kind 
 of labor, and of all commodities, had increas- 
 ed—we are not informed. Perhaps they had 
 a mmd, by fixing the price so low, to save the 
 dogs as much as possible from their unmerit- 
 ed fate. 
 
 But if such was their humane design, they 
 must have been grievously disappointed : for, 
 small as the inducement was, there perished 
 during the whole massacre— which continued 
 for several weeks— no less than 8537 dogs ' 
 How many fell in the year '34, when the pre- 
 mmm was twice as high, we do not recollect. 
 But we believe the number was greatly infe- 
 rior. 
 
 We are not certain that the lower price was 
 not the greater inducement to exertion : be- 
 cause more labor was necessary to be done to 
 make a '' living business" of it. The slaugh- 
 ter was mostly achieved by loafers ; and, as 
 every body knows, a loafer will not exert him- 
 self unless driven to it by dire necessity. His 
 maxim is, that " sufficient for the day is the 
 evil thereof," and therefore h^ takes '' no 
 
88 DOG POLICE. 
 
 thought for the morrow.*' Hence, if he could 
 procure the means of livelihood for a day, by 
 the slaughter of one dog, he had no induce- 
 ment to bloody his hands with two. 
 
 Such was the case in the year '34. In 
 that year the loafer, black or white, (for cani- 
 cides are of no particular color) having killed 
 his dog of a morning, and got his dollar, re- 
 signed himself entirely to his ease, and throve 
 for the remainder of the day on the fruit of his 
 morning's work. But in the year '36, having 
 got only half a dollar for his morning's work, 
 he was driven to the necessity of sallying out 
 again in the afternoon, to make good the de- 
 ficiency of his earnings in the previous part 
 of the day. 
 
 Another reason for the greater slaughter 
 of last 3^ear wasj probably, the increase of 
 loafers. The}' might have been induced to 
 this city by the report of the very liberal man- 
 ner in which New York rewarded the murder 
 of the most innocent of her inhabitants. And 
 as it is an easy thing to find a dog, where 
 those animals abound ; so money could 
 
DOG POLICE. 89 
 
 scarcely be wanting to a loafer to buy him a 
 dinner, through the means of their execution. 
 
 There was a rumor, last year, that a part 
 — and a pretty large part — of the ani- 
 mals, on whose head the bounty was paid, 
 were not found in New York ; but brought 
 hither by shallop-loads, from Flushing, Oyster- 
 Bay, Crane Neck, Mount Misery, Saugatuck, 
 Sachem's Head, and all along the shores of 
 Long Island Sound ; and thence eastwardly 
 as far as Conaguetogue Point, Narragansett 
 Bay, Squibnock Head, and so on as far as 
 the uttermost bounds of Yankee land. And 
 some said that a large importation was made 
 even from the Isle of Dogs. 
 
 Whether it was a discovery, or a suspicion, 
 of this system of smuggling : or whether the 
 blood of the murdered innocents began to cry 
 to them from the ground : or whether the 
 city exchequer began to run low: certain 
 it is, that the half-dollar system was suddenly 
 stopped ; the bounty was suppressed ; the 
 inducement to slaughter was recalled : and the 
 
 remainder of the dogs had their lease of 
 
 8* 
 
90 DOG- POLICE. 
 
 life renewed for another year — or until such 
 time as the senseless outcry against their race 
 shall stir up the corporation to expend the 
 people's money in killing the people's fa^ 
 vorites. 
 
 From what we have here said, strangers 
 may learn at what hazard — especially in dog^ 
 days— they bring with them to New York 
 their four-footed domestics. Though they 
 are. sure not to desert them — like some of the 
 more faithless of the two-footed — still they are 
 in imminent danger of losing them by some 
 statute of outlawry, already passed, or on the 
 very eve of passing against them. 
 
 In addition to this hazard of life, dogs are 
 subjected, in New York, to an annual tax of 
 three dollars. It is, indeed, more than most 
 of them are worth— alwa3^s excepting the 
 terriers. Were it not for this species of dogs, 
 the city would be devoured with rats. Noth- 
 ing will stop this kind of vermin, until you 
 stop their breath. They penetrate every 
 where. The stoutest oak plank is no obstruc- 
 tion. And for deal boards, lath and plas- 
 
DOG POLICE. 91 
 
 ter, and such like defences, they laugh at 
 them. 
 
 These rats (known in Boston by the name 
 ,of ^* wharf rats," and by naturahsts called the 
 mus decumanvs,) are, especially many of the 
 older ones, too strong to be easily killed by a 
 cat ; besides the cat will not hunt them with 
 half the perseverance of the terrier, which 
 seems to take greater delight in their slaugh- 
 ter than even in its daily food. 
 
 In fact the only true professional rat-catch- 
 er in this country — who both understands 
 and loves his profession — is this variety of the 
 dog. Two terriers, kept at a certain hotel 
 in this city, are known to kill not less than 
 half a ton of rats in a single year.* 
 
 * If any reader should fancy its to be a large story, we 
 beg him to consider, for a moment, the extraordinary size, 
 weight, and abundance of the New-York rats. Allowing 
 the above named dogs to despatch, each only three rats per 
 day, Sundays included : and there are upwards of 2000 
 rats killed during the year. Now, no person, acquainted 
 with the size of these rats, will pretend to estimate their 
 weight at less than half a pound each: which proves that 
 our assignment of half a ton, as the joint labor of the two 
 dogs, ia not a single ounce too high. 
 
\)2 DOG POLICE. 
 
 When such are the virtues and such the 
 services of the terrier, who can think, without 
 indignation, of a price being set upon his 
 head. But we hope — -and are rather in- 
 clined to think — that fewer of this valuable 
 sort of dogs have fallen a pre}* to the butchers 
 than of any other. And we are inclined to 
 think so, for this reason — that they are decid- 
 edly industrious dogs, and the most domestic 
 in their tastes, of any of the inhabitants of the 
 city. They are seldom seen gadding about 
 the streets. And therefore in all probability, 
 had the good fortune, a majority of them, to 
 escape with]|their lives. 
 
CHAPTER X, 
 
 MOBS. 
 
 I charge ye all, no more foment 
 This feud, but keep the peace betweeu 
 Your brethren and your countrymen ; 
 And to those places straight repair 
 Where your respective dweUings are. 
 
 HUPIBRAS. 
 
 Were a magistrate, in New York, to read 
 the riot act in the words of our motto, it 
 might safely be answered, by most of the riot- 
 ers, " we have no * dwellings' — how then 
 can we repair to them ?' Those, who have 
 houses of their own, it is believed, are seldom 
 inclined to leave them for the purpose of de- 
 molishing the houses of their neighbors. 
 
 Mobs are not an invention of recent date. 
 On the contrary, they may lay claim to very 
 high antiquity. Even before the deluge "the 
 earth," we are told, " was filled with vio^ 
 
94 
 
 MOBS. 
 
 lence." And where is violence to be found 
 in a more concentrated form, than in a mob ] 
 In the days of " righteous Lot," and in the 
 foul, city of Sodom, we read of " both old 
 and young," that collected about the house of 
 that patriarch and violently clamored for the 
 surrender of the two angels who lodged with 
 him. And they would actually have broken 
 into the house and committed great violence, 
 had they not, in the midst of their rage, been 
 struck blind by the celestial visitants. 
 
 The mob prevailed to a great extent in 
 Greece. But the materials of a Grecian mob, 
 it must be confessed, were of a more respecta- 
 ble character than those of modern times ; 
 and they might plead in excuse, especially at 
 Athens, the nature oi their government, which 
 so frequently called the multitude together. 
 
 At Rome also they had very distinguished 
 mobs. Such was that which seized upon the 
 Sabine women. Such was that which foully 
 murdered the brave Dentatus ; and such that 
 which slew the Gracchi. The two last were 
 patrician mobs. 
 
MOBS. 95 
 
 In Judea, a mob murdered the Savior of 
 men. When Pilate, the Roman governor, 
 who sat as judge, was disposed to acquit him, 
 he was prevented by the violence of the multi- 
 tude who demanded the blood of the innocent ; 
 and that Barabbas, a fellow of their own 
 kidney, who had been committed for murder 
 and sedition, should be set at liberty. And 
 the governor (how unworthy the character of 
 a Roman) gave sentence for the crucifixion of 
 an innocent person, because " a tumult was 
 made." 
 
 Great cities have ever been, and probably 
 ever will be, more or less the theatres of the 
 mob. In London they have given their tu- 
 multuous exhibitions times without number. 
 Many of these have been deemed worthy of a 
 place in history. During the reign of George 
 III. there were several of this description : 
 such as the beer mob of 1762, occasioned by 
 an increased duty on that favorite beverage of 
 Englishmen. In the year 1767 happened the 
 Wilkes mob, occasioned by the imprisonment 
 of the celebrated John Wilkes. The year 
 
96 MOBS. 
 
 1780 was famous for the great anti-popery 
 mob, occasioned by the repeal of the penal 
 laws against Papists. This mob continued to 
 rule for several days. It set fire to many 
 houses ; pulled down that of Lord Mansfield?- 
 and several others ; and was not finally sup- 
 pressed until three or four hundred of the 
 rioters had fallen by the hands of the military. 
 
 Paris too has had her mobs. Indeed, for 
 several years during the French Revolution, 
 she may be said to have been almost under 
 the constant influence of the mob ; which, 
 through her, ruled all France. 
 
 All the principal cities of the United States 
 have had their mobs. The most famous of 
 these, and the most worthy of the dignity of 
 history — both on account of the cause, the 
 character of the persons engaged, and the 
 consequences that ensued — was the cele- 
 brated tea-mob of Boston, in the year 1773, 
 commonly called the " Boston Tea Party." 
 Three years before that the British soldiers 
 were mobbed, and assailed with stones and 
 brickbats ; when they fired upon the Bosto- 
 
MOBS. 97 
 
 nians, and killed five on the spot. In later 
 times, the Boston mobs have been compara- 
 tively trivial affairs. But it must be confessed, 
 that the citizens of that sober metropolis, 
 when once sufficiently vv^rought up to enact 
 the mob, do the business in the most effectual 
 manner of any people of the United States. 
 
 Baltimore has been emphatically called the 
 " Mob-City ;" and in the year 1812 certain of 
 her people did their best, or their v^orst, to 
 vi'in for her that appellation. On that occa- 
 sion fell several persons, among whom was 
 General Lingan, a revolutionary officer, who 
 was murdered in the jail where he had been 
 placed for security against the violence of the 
 mob, whose animosity he had excited by his 
 efforts in defending the house of Mr. Hanson 
 the editor of the Federal Republican. Han- 
 son was opposed to the war, then recently 
 declared, which was a favorite with the mob. 
 
 In 1835 — a year, as was likewise that of 
 
 '34, infamous for mobs — Baltimore renewed 
 
 her claim to be called the " mob-city," by 
 
 pulling down, or suffering to be pulled down, 
 9 
 
98 Mobs. 
 
 in a riot, the houses of some of her most dis- 
 tinguished citizens. 
 
 Philadelphia — the " city of brotherly love" 
 — 'had her mobs in 1834, when some blood 
 v/as spilt. In fact the spirit of violenc-e and 
 misrule prevailed throughout the United 
 States, in the years '34 and '35 ; and it would 
 have been strange indeed, if Philadelphia had 
 entirely escaped the epidemic. 
 
 The first mob of any great notoriety in 
 New York, was called the " Doctors'' Mob"-— 
 not because it was got up by the doctors, but 
 against them. This happened in the winter 
 of 1787. Some medical students were im- 
 prudent enough to let it be known that they 
 were engaged in the offices of dissection — ^ac- 
 tually dismembering the bodies of men who 
 had not died the death of felons. And as it 
 is ever considered, by the populace, a greater 
 crime to exhume and dissect a dead man, 
 than to kill a live one, so the populace of this 
 city determined to make an example of these 
 sons of ^sculapius. They rushed to the Hos- 
 pital and destroyed a number of anatomical 
 
MOBS. 
 
 99 
 
 preparations ; and would have done the same 
 by the students, if they had not been rescued 
 by the interference of the mayor, the sheriff, 
 and some of the most intelligent citizens, who 
 lodged them in jail for safe keeping. The 
 mob then attacked the jail, and in attempting 
 to disperse them, John Jay was severely 
 wounded in the head. Hamilton and others, 
 used their exertions in defence of the jail. 
 The militia were at length called out ; and the 
 mob were finally dispersed by killing five and 
 wounding seven or eight of their number. 
 
 The year '34 was famous, in New York, for 
 the anti-abolition mob. Commencing on the 
 Fourth of July, at an anti-slavery meeting in 
 Chatham-street Chapel, it was not completely 
 suppressed for several days. The abolition- 
 ists—relying upon the Constitution, thought 
 they had a right to express their opinions 
 freely on all subjects, and among the rest on 
 the subject of slavery. Relying on the De^ 
 claration of Independence, they deemed that 
 all men were born free and equal ; and that 
 the blacks not only had a right to their liberty's 
 
100 MOBS. 
 
 but that they were also entitled to an equal 
 seat in public, with their white brethren. 
 
 In the practical enjoyment of this idea, 
 they were not molested either by the philoso- 
 pher or the christian ; neither of whom at- 
 tempted to disturb a union in which they 
 were not compelled to join, and which was 
 left equally free to all, either to choose or to 
 reject. 
 
 But others were not so inclined to peace. 
 In spite of the Declaration of Independence 
 and the U. S. Constitution, they determined 
 that all men were not born equal, and that 
 there was one subject, at least, on which, in 
 a free country, no man should publicly open 
 his mouth. They resolved, therefore, nem.con., 
 that the abolitionists should be routed. Where- 
 fore, attacking them from the boxes, they 
 hurled down upon their heads, in the pit,* 
 
 * The Chatham-street Chapel was formerly the Chat- 
 ham Theatre. It is but a few years since it was captured 
 from the Arch Enemy ; and it still bears evidence of its 
 profane origin : for the boxes, tier above tier, remain pre- 
 cisely as in the days of its theatrical glory ; the pit and the 
 stage only being changed into something more of a church- 
 like appearance. 
 
MQBS. 
 
 101 
 
 the benches, and whatever they could con- 
 veniently lay their hands on ; and at last suc- 
 ceeded in driving them, with their colored 
 friends, from the house. 
 
 The next exploit of the mob was the attack 
 on the house of Lewis Tappan, the leader of 
 the abolitionists. Having broken in the doors 
 and windows, they contented themselves with 
 making a bonfire of all his furniture — valued 
 at about $1500 — and then, with great mod- 
 eration, dispersed, to assemble again the next 
 evening for further mischief. Their next 
 achievement was the demolition of the win- 
 dows and pews of the churches of the Rev. 
 Dr. Cox and the Rev. Mr. Ludlow ; both of 
 which gentlemen were accused of being fa- 
 vorable to immediate abolition. The mob 
 also, attacked the church of the Rev. Peter 
 Williams, a respectable colored clergyman, 
 who happened to be of opinion that slavery 
 
 was not the best possible condition for his 
 African brethren. 
 
 Such were the principal proceedings of the 
 
 anti-abolition mob of '34. How much longer 
 9* 
 
102 MOBS. 
 
 they would have continued their outrages, 
 had they not been wearied with the business — 
 or had they not begun, after about three days, 
 to meet with some decided symptoms of oppo- 
 sition from the police, we know not. 
 
 To do justice to our worthy mayor and 
 corporation, it must be acknowledged that, in 
 almost all cases of outbreaks against the 
 peace, they begin to bestir themselves very 
 lustily after the mischief is fairly done. When 
 the city is threatened with a riot, they stren- 
 uously keep their own peace, until the mob is 
 completely organized, the work of destruc- 
 tion commenced, and, in general, pretty well 
 finished. It has been so in all the riots that 
 have happened here within our recollection. 
 
 The last of these was the flour-riot, which 
 happened in the month of February of the 
 present year. In consequence of the high 
 price of bread, growing out of the monopoly 
 of flour by a few speculators in that article, 
 the papers for several weeks had spoken in 
 terms of indignation of the base avarice — the 
 grinding cruelty — of those merchants, who 
 
MOBS. 
 
 103 
 
 were said to be coining money, as it were, 
 out of the very heart's blood of the people 
 
 At length a great meeting was'assembled in 
 the Park, to devise means for the cure of so 
 great a grievance. Warm harangues were 
 pronounced, and spirited resolutions were 
 passed. Whether these roused the feehngs of 
 the half-starved auditors, and first suggest- 
 ed to their minds the idea of taking ven- 
 geance on the flour monopolists, or whether 
 the mob had been previously organized, as the 
 conservators of the peace had been some 
 hours before, informed : certain it is, that im- 
 mediately after the dismission of the meeting 
 in the Park, a band of rioters proceeded to the 
 store of Eli Hart &Co., the most obnoxious 
 of all the flour monopolists ; and demolishing 
 their windows and doors, threw out and de- 
 stroyed two or three hundred barrels of flour, 
 and nearly the like quantity of wheat. Wheth- 
 er they expected to make the remainder of 
 those articles cheaper by destroying a part, is 
 not specified ; but so rapidly did they work 
 for two or three hours, in rolling out and sta- 
 
104 MOBS. 
 
 ving in the casks of flour and wheat, that 
 their contents lay mingled together, from one 
 side of the street to the other, to the depth of 
 two or three feet. 
 
 The worthy mayor was, by this time, on the 
 ground before the mob had more than half 
 completed the work in hand. The constables 
 were also there, with their long pine sticks. 
 The mayor — like a man of peace, as he is 
 known to be — first began to make a speech. 
 But the rioters, who had just been hearing a 
 much finer oration in the Park, refused to 
 listen ; and even proceeded so far as to stop 
 the flow of His Honor's eloquence, with a 
 handful of flour. They treated the constables 
 and their staves of office with quite as little re- 
 spect J for they broke the staves over the 
 constables' backs. 
 
 The mayor and his posse were driven from 
 the ground ; but returning, after a while with 
 a larger force, they finally proved victorious. 
 Another flour store was broken open by this 
 piob ; but nothing worthy of note achieved. 
 
 TJieatrical rows occasionally grace New 
 
MOBS. 
 
 105 
 
 York, as well as other cities ; blit histor}? can 
 scarcely raise these to the dignity of mobs — 
 at least such as we have seen in this city. 
 The principal of these v/ere the anti-Anderson 
 and the anti-Wood rows at the Park theatre ; 
 the first, we think, was in 1831 ; the last was 
 in 1836. They were each occasioned by im- 
 ported singers. The first, while on board 
 the ship crossing the Atlantic, was so imprud- 
 ent as to " damn the Yankees'' — meaning 
 thereby Americans, in general. And as the 
 Americans, though they may abuse one anoth- 
 er pretty heartily, will not allow foreigners 
 to take the same liberty : so they determined, 
 at least in New York — that Mr. Anderson 
 should never raise a note on their boards ; 
 and they effectually executed their determina^ 
 tion ; besides smashing the windows and 
 lamps in front of the theatre. 
 
 The anti-Wood row originated chiefly in a 
 private quarrel between the Courier and En- 
 quirer and Wood, the singer. The Courier 
 had made a statement respecting the rather 
 uncorteous refusal of Mr. Wood to play at 
 
106 
 
 MOBi 
 
 Mrs. Conduit's benefit ; which statement ha{3- 
 pening to be true, was taken in very high 
 dudgeon by Mr. Wood. He insisted upon 
 its being contradicted ; and as the Courier 
 did not choose upon that occasion, to eat its 
 own words, he brought the matter publicly 
 upon the stage — accusing the editor of false- 
 hood and ungentlemanly conduct. This 
 roused the ire of the editor, who invited the 
 sovereign people to attend at the Park, at 
 Wood's next appearance, and put him down ; 
 at the same time warning the police not to 
 interfere. The people — alias the mob — did 
 more than they were invited to. They burst 
 jn the doors of the theatre, and filled the house 
 more perfectly than it was ever filled before. 
 They however did little or no mischief; and 
 only insisted, when High Constable Hays at- 
 tempted to interfere, that that grave function- 
 ary should make them a speech from the 
 stage. Wood challenged Webb, the editor 
 of the Courier, who refused to meet him, on 
 the ground that he was not a gentleman. 
 The former shortly after sailed for England. 
 
MOBS. 107 
 
 Much has been said, in the newspapers, of 
 the prevalence of the mob in this city ; and 
 we have thought it necessary, in taking a 
 glance at things in general, to give also a 
 chapter on mobs. But, on a careful review 
 of the subject, we cannot find that New York 
 is entitled to any great pre-eminence in the 
 mob line : especially, when the vast number 
 and various character of her population is 
 considered : and still more especially, when 
 the kindly forbearance of the city authorities 
 allows such remarkable scope for the free 
 exercise of the spirit of mobocracy. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 MONOPOLIES. 
 
 " And greedy Avarice by him did ride, 
 
 Upon a camel laden all with gold ; 
 
 Two iron coffers hung on either side, 
 
 With precious metal, full as they might hold; 
 
 And in his lap a heap of coin he told ; 
 
 For of his wicked pelf his god he made, 
 
 And unto hell himself for money sold." — Spencer, 
 
 We now come to a grievance of a very diffe- 
 rent, but of a not less odious and injurious, 
 character than that which formed the subject 
 of our last chapter. Much as mobs are to 
 be deprecated, and much as every friend to 
 good order and security should set his face 
 against them : so much and so strenuously 
 should every lover of his country set himself 
 in opposition to the abuse of monopolies. By 
 which we mean the granting of exclusive 
 
MONOPOLIES. 109 
 
 privileges to any man or set of men, save only, 
 for the public good ; or for the security of the 
 right of authors, inventors, &c., to the pro- 
 ductions of their own toil and study. 
 
 The monopolies, against which every good 
 man should firmly strive, are those which are 
 devised and granted solely for the benefit of 
 individuals or companies. Such monopolies 
 convert a general right into an exclusive one. 
 They take from the many to give to the few. 
 They rob Peter, James, and John, only to 
 bestow the plunder on Philip. 
 
 Here is a direct injury to all the individuals 
 of the community, except the favored one — 
 the monopolist — because their rights are taken 
 away and conferred upon him. But this is 
 not the greatest of the evil. An indirect, but 
 more wide-spread injury is inflicted on the 
 community. The monopolist, having the sole 
 command and disposal of any article of gen- 
 eral use or necessity, compels the public to 
 pay twice or thrice as much for it as would be 
 the price, if left where nature and the general 
 
 10 
 
110 MONOPOLIES. 
 
 rights of man had placed it, open and free to 
 competition. 
 
 In bringing into comparison the two evils 
 of mobs and monopolies, we ought to bear in 
 mind that the former, being unlawful, require 
 only the execution of the law to suppress 
 them. This, the magistrates, with a due de- 
 gree of vigor and firmness can effect, and 
 every good citizen will lend his aid in restor- 
 ing and keeping the peace. The grievance 
 is capable of prompt redress. Not so with 
 monopolies ; because, being a lawful evil, the 
 magistrates cannot interfere with them. They 
 cannot command the aid of the posse to put 
 them down ; they cannot call out the 
 military to suppress them. There is no- 
 thing in general, to be done, but to wait for 
 the slow operation of time. Even the le- 
 gislature cannot mend the mischief it ha& 
 made. It has no power to uncharter what 
 it has once chartered. The community, 
 whatever burdens it is suffering under, must 
 wait for a given term of years, if not foreverj 
 for their removal. 
 
MONOPOLIES. Ill 
 
 Contrasted as monopolies are with mobs, 
 there is nevertheless, in many cases, a pretty 
 close connection between them — namely, that 
 of cause and effect — ^the oppression of the 
 monopoly leading to the outrage of the mob. 
 This is verified by history. The principal 
 discontents, during the reign of Queen Eliza- 
 beth, rose from the great number and oppres- 
 sive nature of the monopolies granted by that 
 princess ; and had it not been for her per- 
 sonal popularity and the remarkable vigor of her 
 administration, in all probability, would have 
 exhibited themselves in a more alarming shape 
 than that of mere murmurs and complaints. 
 
 Among the articles, for which patents of 
 monopoly were granted by Elizabeth, were, 
 according to Hume, "currants, salt, iron, 
 powder, cards, calfskins, fells, pouldavies, ox- 
 shin-bones, train oil, lists of cloth, potashes, 
 anniseeds, vinegar, sea coals, steel, aquavitae, 
 brushes, pots, bottles, saltpetre, lead, acci- 
 dence, oil, calamine-stone, oil of blubber, 
 glasses, paper, starch, tin, sulphur, new 
 drapery, dried pilchards," &c &c. The 
 
-••^•^ MONOPOLIES. 
 
 monopolists of saltpetre had the power of 
 entering any house, and of committing what 
 havoc they pleased in stables, cellars, or where- 
 ever they suspected saltpetre might be gather- 
 ed. The last parliament of James I. abolished 
 monopolies, with an exception in favor of 
 new inventions. But they were revived by 
 Charles I., who sold to a company the exclu- 
 sive privilege of manufacturing soap; and 
 laid restrictions on a great many other com- 
 modities, even down to linen rags. These 
 monopolies, which almost ruined the industry 
 of the country during two or three successive 
 reigns, were among the various causes of 
 complaint which finally brought the unhappy 
 Charles to the block. 
 
 Elizabeth rewarded her public servants and 
 gratified her favorites by the grant of exclusive 
 privileges. She gave to the celebrated earl 
 of Essex the monopoly of sweet wines. Our 
 legislators also reward their favorites and par- 
 tisans by a gift of monopolies. If they do not 
 confer upon them the exclusive privilege of 
 dealing in "shin-bones," "lists of cloth," 
 
MONOPOLIES. 113 
 
 " dried pilchards," and such Hke trifling mat- 
 ters, they grant them other and more weighty 
 monopolies, which doubtless please them quite 
 as well : such as bank charters, insurance 
 charters, gas-light charters, and the " sole use 
 and behoof" of various other rights and privi- 
 leges, which they take from their constituents 
 in general, to bestow on their partisans and 
 friends in particular. 
 
 The mayor and corporation of New York, 
 so far as their legislative capacity admits, imi- 
 tate their superiors in the state legislature : so 
 that, between the general assembly and the 
 common council, a restriction is laid upon 
 many of the most important pursuits, and 
 many of the most necessary articles of com- 
 fort and convenience. 
 
 Banking is a monopoly ; the sale of butch- 
 er's meat is a monopoly ; the disposal of 
 o-oods at auction is a monopoly ; the ferries 
 are a monopoly; the piloting of vessels is a 
 monopoly ; and gas-lights are a monopoly. 
 
 By the monopoly of banking, commercial 
 
 operations are fettered ; by the monopoly of 
 10* 
 
114 MOXOPOLIES. 
 
 butcher's meat, the price is excessively in- 
 creased, and many a poor man deprived of a 
 piece ; by the monopoly of sales at auction, 
 the advantages which should accrue to the 
 pockets of the many are confined to the pock- 
 ets of the few ; by the monopoly of ferries, a 
 hundred per cent more is paid for crossing the 
 river, than would otherwise be demanded ; by 
 the monopoly of gas-lights, the city is left in 
 darkness ; and by the monopoly of pilotage, 
 vessels are lost and human life destroyed, 
 which would be saved if the business were left 
 open to competition. 
 
 Of the injurious operation of the pilot laws 
 of New York instances are almost too numer- 
 ous to require particular mention. But we 
 cannot pass over those very disastrous cases 
 which have occurred within a few months — 
 we mean the wreck of the ships Bristol and 
 Mexico, on the Rockaway beach ; when 
 nearly two hundred lives were lost. These 
 ships were in sight of the harbor, standing off 
 and on for several days, with a signal flying for 
 a pilot ; but no pilot would budge an inch, be- 
 
MONOPOLIES. 115 
 
 cause the few to whom the law gives a mo- 
 nopoly of the business, had grown too fat, too 
 luxurious, too careless of gain, to expose 
 themselves to a rude wind and a rough sea, 
 however much property and however many 
 lives might be lost by their negligence.* 
 
 * Since the above was written, a law has been passed by 
 Congress, which makes the waters of New York and New 
 Jersey common to the pilots of both states. Our own le- 
 gislature has also attempted something in the way of 
 amendment of our pilot system. But whatever is done, or 
 neglected to be done, on this subject at Albany, the act of 
 Congress will open a road to competition ; and it is hoped 
 no future disasters like the above may occur, from a mere 
 want of exertion on the part of the pilots. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MAGAZINES. 
 
 Hard has he toiled and richly earned liis gains 
 Ruined his fingers and spun out his brains. — Echo. 
 
 The Italian word magazzino, from which our 
 EngUsh word magazine is derived, signifies a 
 warehouse. Rightly named therefore are 
 those publications, which come to us monthly, 
 two-monthly, and half-monthly, stitched in 
 colored paper, and containing a heap of things 
 They are truly warehouses, filled with a variety 
 of wares, manufactured by the joint labor of 
 various heads and hands. These wares are 
 of divers character, and made of divers mate- 
 rials. There is the wooden ware, the iron 
 ware, the leaden ware, and even the silver 
 and the golden wares. 
 
 Again, if we take the leading definition of 
 the word, in our English dictionaries, we shall 
 find a magazine to be a store of arms, ammu- 
 
MAGAZINES. 117 
 
 nition, or provisions. Some of our magazines, 
 indeed, notwithstanding their pacific exterior, 
 are well filled with arms, with weapons offen- 
 sive and defensive. Of ammunition too they 
 have a plentiful store. They abound in pow- 
 der — at least if we may judge by occasional 
 explosions. Lead, too, they have in very 
 considerable store. And in materials for 
 wadding — or that whereof wadding may be 
 created — they are most abundant. As to the 
 article of provisions, we believe they are 
 usually victualled for a longer or a shorter 
 period, according as the public, on which 
 they are dependent for supplies, chooses to 
 furnish them forth. We have here no particu- 
 lar reference to the New York magazines. 
 We shall come to them by and by. 
 
 The Gentleman's Magazine published in 
 London and we believe the most venerable 
 periodical extant, w^as commenced in the year 
 1731 ;* having now attained to the age of one 
 
 * We have here followed Thomas's History of Printing. 
 Grant, in his Great Metropolis, has detracted two years 
 from the age of the Gentleman's Magazine, by fijcing its 
 birth in the year 1733. 
 
118 MAGAZINES. 
 
 hundred and six, and still in a healthy and 
 vigorous condition. In its pages Dr. Johnson 
 first saw himself in print, after coming, a needy 
 adv^enturer to the great metropolis ; and for 
 several years subsisted on the small pay he 
 received from Cave, its publisher.* 
 
 So long a life in a magazine is little less 
 than miraculous. Short has been the date of 
 all similar publications in our own country. 
 Whether their lives have been merry as well 
 as short, their editors and publishers best can 
 tell. The career of some two or three — now 
 defunct — was at least brilliant, if not merry. 
 Such was that of the Port Folio, under the 
 management of Dennie, who died in Philadel- 
 phia, about the year 1813. Next flourished 
 for a short period, in the same city, the Ana- 
 lectic Magazine- — bright while it lasted. In 
 our city Bryant published the United States 
 
 * What remuneration Johnson got for his contributions, 
 does not appear. It was probably — considering the differ- 
 ence in the price of hterature in that day and the present — 
 not one fourth of what is now paid by the London maga- 
 zines, which, Grant informs us, varies from ten to sixteen 
 ^uiaeas a sheet. 
 
MAG^AZINE. 119 
 
 Review. But even his fine talents could not 
 sustain it, because on the other hand, it would 
 jiot sustain him ; and he therefore car- 
 red his talents to, a more profitable market, 
 in the columns of a daily paper. 
 
 The first magazine, published in this coun- 
 try, was in the year 1741, in Philadelphia. 
 Boston followed two years after. In both 
 these places several magazines w^ere started 
 and died previous to the revolution. In New- 
 York there was no publication either called, 
 or deserving the name of, a magazine, before 
 that event. 
 
 The number of magazines, at present in this 
 city, may be nine or ten : the principal of 
 which are, the Knickerbocker, published by 
 Wiley & Long, Clark & Edson proprietors ; 
 the American Monthly Magazine, George 
 Dearborn ; the Mechanic's Magazine, D. K. 
 Minor ; the New York Farmer and American 
 Gardener's Magazine, Minor & Schaefer'; the 
 Anti-Slavery Magazine, Elizur Wright ; the 
 Ladies' Companion, William W. Snowden ; 
 the Journal of the American Institute, T. B. 
 
120 MAGAZINES. 
 
 Wakeman ; and the Naval Magazine, John 
 S. Taylor. All these are monthly publica- 
 tions, with the exception of the last, which is 
 published once in two months ; and the Anti- 
 Slavery Magazine which is published quar- 
 terly. 
 
 The Knickerbocker and the American 
 Monthly are devoted to subjects of general 
 literature ; and are made up entirely of origi- 
 nal matter : consisting of poetry, prose, es- 
 sa3^s on scientific and literary themes, histori- 
 cal and fancy sketches, and notices of new 
 publications. Both these magazines sustain 
 a high character. They have enlisted, and 
 still continue to employ, some of the best 
 talents in the country. But though their 
 general scope is the same, there is neverthe- 
 less some diversity in their character. The 
 Knickerbocker, to our taste, is rather the 
 most agreeable. It has more sprightliness, more 
 variety, and more good nature in its critical 
 remarks. Both these magazines have now 
 subsisted for some years ; having attained 
 to eight or nine volumes each ; which is no 
 slight achievement in the life of any American 
 
MAGAZIxVES. 121 
 
 magazine. They are both, we believe, healthy 
 and flourishing. The former is edited by 
 Willis Gaylord Clark ; the latter, by Charles 
 K. Hoffman and Park Benjamin. The price 
 of each is $5 per year. 
 
 The course of the Naval Magazine is very 
 similar to that of the two above described ; 
 the principal difference being a more special 
 devotion to subjects connected with the sea. 
 Like them it is composed entirely of original 
 articles. It is edited by the Rev. E. S. Stew- 
 art ; and, though still in its infancy, gives 
 promise of eminence. The price is ^3 a 
 year. 
 
 The Ladies' Companion is also devoted to 
 general literature ; but of a lighter and more 
 ladylike kind — consisting m.ore of tales, bits of 
 romance, and scenes of love. It is made 
 up partly of original and partly of selected 
 matter ; and does not burn its fingers with 
 criticisims. It is an agreeable and popular 
 melange ; has now been living for about three 
 years ; and is believed to be in a thriving con- 
 dition. The price is $S. 
 11 
 
122 MAGAZINES. 
 
 The Anti-Slavery Magazine is devoted to 
 the cause of immediate abolition of slavery in 
 the United States. . What encouragement it 
 meets with we know not. The price is 
 only $1. 
 
 The Mechanics' Magazine — which is also 
 a Journal of the Mechanics' Institute — a useful 
 association in this city — is devoted, as its name 
 indicates, to the dissemination of knowledge 
 and improvement in the mechanic arts. It i& 
 composed both of original and selected arti- 
 cles, and is a work of great value. It has 
 reached the 9th volume, healthy and strong. 
 The price is $S. 
 
 The New York Farmer and American 
 Gardener's Magazine has attained to a still- 
 higher age, being now in its tenth year. Its 
 character and object are expressed in its 
 name. Price $3. 
 
 The Journal of the American Institute is 
 devoted to the doings of that distinguished as- 
 sociation, and to the general improvement of 
 America in manufactures, and the various arts 
 
MAGAZINES. 123 
 
 of life, both useful and ornamental. It is a 
 valuable journal ; but still young, though 
 managed by old heads, Its price is ^4, 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 Yoa were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report. 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 The ancients were fond of characterizing the 
 several ages of the olden time, by certain me- 
 talic epithets : as the golden, the silver, the 
 brass, and the iron. Perhaps the present could 
 not be better characterized, than by calling it 
 the age of newspapers — or the newspaperial age. 
 But in giving it this distinctive appellation, we 
 would not be understood to hint that the me- 
 tals, which gave name to the ages of antiqui- 
 ty, should all be excluded from our ideas of 
 the present. On the contrary, the gold 
 and the silver — yea, and the brass — to say 
 nothing of the iron — are exceedingly requi- 
 site for the due and successful discharge of 
 the newspaperial functions. 
 
NEWSPAPERS. 125 
 
 How the republics of Greece and Rome 
 ever lived, flourished, and made so much 
 noise in the world, without newspapers, is, to 
 us, very mysterious, It is strange how they 
 eould support their free governments : expose 
 the tricks of designing knaves ; pull off the 
 mask from the sham patriot ; put the bad out 
 of office and put the good in ; and advance 
 the true interests of the republic ; without the 
 efficient aid of an editorial corps. It is equal- 
 ly strange how they could manage without 
 newspapers, in the important affairs of reli- 
 gion, morals, manners, and tastes ; and espe- 
 cially how the citizens of Athens and Rome 
 could get through a rainy day, pass a long 
 winter evening, or make their breakfast, with- 
 out a newspaper. 
 
 Never were a people better fitted by cha- 
 racter, for the encouragement and support of 
 newspapers, than the Athenians : for, St. 
 Paul assures us, that they " spent their time 
 in nothing else, but either to tell, or to hear 
 some neiv thing.^^ There would have been a 
 capital chance for the penny-a-liners ; an ex- 
 11* 
 
126 NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 cellent one for "a snapper-up of unconsidered 
 trifles ;" and a very general field for the cir- 
 culation of horrid accidents and the latest 
 specimens of town scandal. An editor, pro- 
 perly fitted for his task, might have made his 
 fortune at Athens in a very short time. 
 
 But the blessing of newspapers was reserved 
 for "the latter days." Immortal Faust I how 
 much are we indebted to thee ! Vilely indeed 
 hast thou been libelled by those who have 
 represented thee as being too familiar with 
 the Arch Enemy of man. Such representa- 
 tion is, in its very nature, contradictory : for 
 the devil — unless his skill and cunning are 
 greatly overrated — is not such a blockhead 
 as to help mankind to the invention of an art, 
 which, in the suppression of ignorance and 
 the advancement of morals and religion, is 
 every day making greater and greater inroads 
 upon his kingdom. 
 
 But though printing was invented as early 
 as the middle of the 15th century, newspapers 
 seem not to have been thought of, until near 
 the close of the 17th, when the first paper 
 
NEWSPAPERS. 127 
 
 was printed in England — not far from 150 
 years ago. 
 
 America was not far behind the mother 
 country. To the Bostonians belongs the 
 credit of printing the first newspaper on this 
 side of the Atlantic. It was commenced on 
 the 24th of April, 1704, was entitled The 
 Boston News Letter, and was published 
 weekly on a half sheet of paper, pot size — by 
 John Campbell, bookseller and Postmaster.* 
 
 Philadelphia was fifteen )^ears behind Bos- 
 ton, in the introduction of a newspaper. The 
 first published there was the American 
 Weekly Mercury, by Andrew Bradford, dated 
 Dec. 22, 1719. Like its Boston prototype, 
 it was on a half sheet of pot paper. 
 
 New- York followed Philadelphia at an in- 
 terval of six years ; and Boston at an interval 
 
 *It was veiy common, for some time after the first intro- 
 duction of newspapers into the American colonies, for the 
 Postmasters in the towns where they were printed, to be 
 also the pubhshers. Franklin was Postmaster, as well as 
 printer, in Philadelphia. The privileges belonging to the 
 former office were doubtless useful in advancing the in- 
 terests of the latter. 
 
128 NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 of twenty-one. William Bradford published 
 the first paper in this city, on the 16th of 
 October, 1725. It was called The New- 
 York Gazette, and was published weekly, 
 on a whole sheet of foolscap. Thus, though 
 New-York was behind her sister cities in start- 
 ing her first newspaper, she greatly exceeded 
 them in the size of her pubhcation. 
 
 How must the Philadelphia and Boston 
 printers have been astonished at receiving the 
 first number of the New-York paper, twice as 
 large as their own at the time of birth ! 
 Did they not nearly burst with envy ? The 
 difference, indeed, was but a few square 
 inches ; and would not be noticed in the super- 
 ficies of a modern newspaper. But the diffe- 
 rence of" a few inches in the length of a man's 
 nose" was thought something of in those days 
 of moderate views and limited attainments. 
 
 Eight years after the commencement of 
 Bradford's paper, John Peter Zenger started 
 the New-York Weekly Journal. The first 
 number had the imprint of " M^mday, October 
 5, 1733.'» 
 
NEWSPAPERS. 129 
 
 The contrast between the size of the first 
 paper published in this city, nearly 112 years 
 ago, and those of the present time, is very re- 
 markable ; and still more so is the difference 
 in the amount of reading contained in the 
 papers of these different dates. Bradford's 
 Gazette was printed on type of the English 
 size. Our modern papers use nothing larger 
 than brevier, and set up their advertisements, 
 and frequently their editorials, in type much 
 smaller. The superficies of Bradford's paper 
 was scarcely a twelfth part of that of the size now 
 in use. His paper, to use a printer's term, would 
 not have contained more than ten thousand 
 ems ; while the Courier and Enquirer, or the 
 Sunday Morning News, of the present date, 
 contains not less than three hundred thousand. 
 A man and boy would easily have set up Brad- 
 ford's paper, entire, in one day. Whereas it 
 would require fifty full grown men to com- 
 pose one of our mammoths, entire, in the same 
 time. 
 
 Newspapers, a hundred years ago, were 
 "good for sore eyes." At least, if they did 
 
130 NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 not cure, neither did they cause them. They 
 could be speedily read, and that without glass- 
 es. Now it is a day's work ; and as to the 
 eyes — to use the language of a great man. 
 their " sufferings is intolerable, and cries aloud 
 for relief." But then, on the other hand, it is 
 to be hoped, that, as much as the outward 
 lights are injured, the inward light will be 
 brightened and improved. 
 
 The whole number of papers, published at 
 the present time in this city, is about fifty. Of 
 these, fourteen are daily ; eight semiweekly ; 
 and the remainder, weekl3\ Of the daily 
 papers, ten are of the large kind, commonly 
 denominated " sixpenny," to distinguish them 
 from the smaller, or penny papers. The 
 largest of these latter, however, are very little ? 
 inferior in size to the smallest of the former. 
 There is much more difference in the price, 
 than in the size. 
 
 The sixpenny papers are sold, by the single 
 copy, for six and a quarter cents, alias a New- 
 York sixpence : hence the title. But at the 
 yearly .price, of ^10, each paper comes to 
 
NEWSPAPERS- 131 
 
 about three and a quarter cents. The penny 
 papers, as their name implies, are sold for a 
 penny a copy. The yearly subscription, when 
 sent abroad by mail, is S3. In the city, 
 subscribers take them by the week, and 
 pay the carrier, every Monday morning, for 
 the papers of the previous week. Thus there 
 is no hazard in the case of any subscriber, be- 
 yond a single sixpence. The carriers pay the 
 publisher two thirds of a cent for each copy* 
 In addition to these weekly subscriptions, 
 many papers are circulated by the boys, who 
 sell them about the streets. And in this manner 
 the children of many poor people are kept 
 from starvation — nay, find profitable employ- 
 ment. 
 
 In fact, the introduction of the penny 
 press, in this country — -in which New York 
 took the lead — deserves to be recorded as an 
 important era in the history of our newspa- 
 pers. The first successful attempt was made 
 by Day & Wisner. They commenced the 
 Sun towards the close of 1833, on a medium 
 half sheet. Two or three months afterwards. 
 
132 NEWSPAPERS^ 
 
 the Transcript was begun, of the same size, 
 by Hayward Lynde & Stanley. Both these 
 papers have since been repeatedly enlarged, 
 and now give little indication of their original 
 size. The Sun is now published by Benjamin 
 H. Day ; the Transcript by Stanley & Prall. , 
 
 Sundry other penny papers have at differ- 
 ent times, been ushered into the world, 
 breathed a few days, and then died. But, 
 being defunct, it is not necessary to name 
 them. 
 
 The next living penny publication, viz. the 
 Herald — now changed to a two-penny — was 
 started in 1835, by James Gordon Bennett ; 
 by whom it is still published. The New Era, 
 by Locke & Price, followed in 1836. Mr. 
 Locke is now sole Editor. 
 
 These four papers, it is believed, circulate 
 about 50,000 copies : furnishing employment, 
 in printing and distribution to some hundreds 
 of persons ; and reading to at least a hundred 
 thousand — for it is not saying too much to 
 assert that each copy, on an average, finds two 
 readers. A large proportion of these copies 
 
NEWSPAPERS. 133 
 
 go into the hands of those who take no other 
 papers; and, were it not for the cheapness of 
 these, would be entirely destitute of any spe- 
 cies of reading, or of any information in rela- 
 tion to public events. 
 
 We may indeed, therefore, call it an impor- 
 tant era, when so many thousand persons are 
 provided with information, instruction and 
 amusement, where there was none of a similar 
 kind before. Not only is the mind greatly en- 
 larged and improved, but the morals are 
 amended — as they always are, where the 
 mind is enlightened. By having an agreea- 
 ble source of amusement, many persons are 
 kept from devoting their leisure hours to bad 
 company, to drink, to gaming, and to many 
 other vicious, foolish, and unworthy pursuits. 
 There are few men, who have not some leisure 
 hours, when, if they are not reading, they will 
 be very likely — especially in a large city, full 
 of dram-shops — to be doing worse. It is inter- 
 esting to see thousands of persons as we now 
 do daily, poring over a newspaper, who, if they 
 
 could not have one brought to their hand for 
 U 
 
134 NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 a penny, would, in all probability, be at the 
 next shop, pouring down liquor— ^and chiefly 
 from the mere want of something to do. A 
 carter may be now seen sitting on his cart ; 
 a barrowman on his barrow ; and a porter at 
 his stand : each perusing a penny paper, while 
 waiting for a job. 
 
 The sixpenny papers have accused the 
 penny press of a mischievous tendency. But 
 is knowledge mischievous because it is cheap ] 
 The accusers do not make so absurd a charge. 
 But they allege against the penny papers, that 
 they print false statements, that they circulate 
 libels, and that they stir up the mob. The 
 penny papers retort the accusation. They 
 point to the anti-abolition, and to certain politi- 
 cal mobs, and ask, who stirred up these 1 In 
 regard to libels, they point to certain prosecu- 
 tions, convictions and suits for damages against 
 some of the sixpenny editors ; and in regard 
 to false statements in general, they say, " Let 
 him that is without sin among you, cast the 
 first stone." To recriminate, however, even 
 where the recrimination is just, is not to 
 
NEWSPAPERS. 135 
 
 prove one's own innocence. But it does proVe, 
 as in the case before us, that the faults, with 
 which the penny papers are charged, admitting 
 them to exist, are not chargeable upon them 
 alone ; but that they are equally shared by 
 their older and more aristocratic brethren. 
 
 In regard to stirring up the mob, we can 
 scarcely believe that any newspaper, of what- 
 ever kind, would designedly be guilty of such 
 a crime against the peace of community ; 
 though certain articles in its columns, by the 
 warmth with which grievances, either real or 
 imaginary, are stated — may have a tendency 
 to arouse the people to acts of violence and 
 outrage. In regard to erroneous statements, 
 which happen too often in newspapers, it is 
 to be hoped they are generally unintentional ; 
 and arise, for the most part, from the hurry 
 incident to the business of making up a paper, 
 especially a daily one. Of deliberate libels, 
 we must say, they are of too foul a nature to 
 be charged upon a whole class of publishers, 
 whether of a cheap, or a more expensive arv 
 tlcle. 
 
136 NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 We had originally intended to give, not only 
 the amount of circulation of all the papers in 
 New York, but likewise that of each individual 
 paper. We have, however on mature reflec- 
 tion, relinquished that design, and for these 
 reasons : in the first place, it would be exceed- 
 ingly difficult, if not impossible to get at the 
 exact truth ; some of the publishers would be 
 unwilling to make any such exposure of their 
 private affairs, and others would greatly exag- 
 gerate respecting the prosperity of theirs : in 
 the second place, the truth, if given, might 
 prove invidious, and possibly injurious to 
 some of the persons concerned, without being 
 of any great use to the public ; and lastly, if 
 an erroneous statement were put forth, not 
 only individuals would be injured, but the 
 public would be deceived. 
 
 Our general estimate, it is believed, will 
 not differ essentially from the truth ; and if it 
 should vary a few hundreds among so many 
 thousands, it will, as Thomas Jefferson said 
 on a more important subject, *' neither pick a 
 man's pocket nor break his leg." 
 
l^EWSPAPERS. . 137 
 
 The circulation of all the papers in New- 
 York is supposed to be about 225,000. Of 
 these, 75,000 are assigned to the daily press ; 
 20,000, to the semiweekly ; and 130,000, to 
 the weekly. To the penny papers — including 
 the Herald — ^we have, above, allowed 50,000. 
 Perhaps they will something exceed that num- 
 ber ; and perhaps the sixpenny dailies will fall 
 a little short of 25,000. 
 
 The ten large daily papers are — to com- 
 mence with the most venerable in age — the 
 New-York Gazette, published by the heirs of 
 John Lang, and now in its 49th year ; Courier 
 and Enquirer, James Watson Webb ; Jour- 
 nal of Commerce, Hale and Hallock ; Mer- 
 cantile Advertiser, Amos Butler ; Express, 
 Townsend and Hudson. The above are all 
 morning papers, and of whig, or opposition, 
 politics. The Times, Holland, Sanford, and 
 Davies, is also a morning paper ; its poli- 
 tics are loyal. The evening papers are the 
 Commercial Advertiser, Francis Hall & Co. ; 
 American, Charles King ; Evening Star, 
 Noah & Gill ; Evening Post, Bryant and 
 12* 
 
138 NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 Others. The three first are Whig ; the latter 
 administration. 
 
 The Gazette, the Comraercial Advertiser, 
 and the Evening Post were Federal papers, 
 in the days when Federalism was ; which days 
 ended a little after the close of the last war 
 with Great Britain. The Post was distin- 
 guished by the contributions of Hamilton, and 
 other great men of his party, who flourished 
 at the commencement of the present century. 
 
 The penny papers are all published in tiie 
 morning ; and eschew politics. The price of 
 advertising is ^30 per annum, in all the daily 
 papers, both great and small, except the Cou- 
 rier and Enquirer, in which paper it has re- 
 cently been raised to $50. 
 
 The semiweekly papers being all issued 
 from the daily oiBces, most of them bearing 
 the same designation as the daily paper, and 
 in all cases made up from its columns — it is 
 not necessary to particularize. The same 
 may be said of some of the weekly papers : 
 particularly those issued by the penny press, 
 of which each office has its own ; and those 
 
NEWSPAPERS. 139 
 
 issued at two or three of the sixpenny offices. 
 They may in all be estimated at 10,000. 
 
 The circulation of the weekly papers, not 
 issued from the daily offices, is believed to be 
 not less than 120,000. Of these, about 70, 
 000 are published by the diffigrent religious 
 presses, of which the following are the prin- 
 cipal, namely ; The Christian Advocate and 
 Journal, Methodist ; New York Observer, 
 Presbyterian ; Protestant Vindicator, Anti- 
 Catholic ; New York Evangelist, New Light ; 
 Truth Teller, Roman Catholic ; Churchman, 
 Episcopalian ; Christian Intelligencer, Dutch 
 Reformed ; Zion's Watchman, Abolition- 
 Methodist ; Weekly Messenger, not particu- 
 larly sectarian. 
 
 The remaining weekly papers, whose cir- 
 culation is estimated at 50,000, are of various 
 character, as specified below. They are as 
 follows : The New York Mirror, George P. 
 Morris ; form quarto, character literary, me- 
 chanical execution beautiful, contents elegant, 
 price $5 : Spirit of the Times, William T. 
 Porter; literary and sporting, form quarto, 
 size large, contents spirited, price $5 : 
 
140 NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 New Yorker, Greely, Burke & Fisher ; lite- 
 rature and general news, form both folio and 
 quarto, politics independent, contents of a 
 high order, price $2, and $S : Sunday. 
 Morning News, Samuel Jenks Smith ; litera- 
 ture and news, size bed-blanket, management 
 able and judicious, price $S :* Plain Deal- 
 er, William H. Leggett'; imperial octavo, 
 literary and political, style vigorous, contents 
 original and independent, price $5 : Rail Road 
 Journal, Minor & Schaefer ; imperial octavo, 
 internal improvements, a highly useful publi- 
 cation, price $5: Albion, J. S. Bartlett; quar- 
 to, large size, foreign, literature and news, a 
 valuable publication, price $G : Emigrant, 
 this is also published by J. S. Bartlett ; and, 
 as its name impUes, is designed for the use of 
 emigrants : the European, published by John 
 M* Moore, is also designed for that class of 
 our population. 
 
 * This paper, like the penny papers, is sold, in very- 
 large numbers, in the streets. The price is sixpence per 
 copy. 
 
NEWSPAPERS. 141 
 
 Taking our previous estimate to be correct, 
 the whole number of copies of newspapers, 
 published in New York in one week, is 620, 
 000 ; and, in one year, 32,240,000 ; which is 
 upwards of 10,000,000 more than the whole 
 number published in every part of the United 
 States, in 1810, according to an estimate in 
 Thomas's History of Printing, published that 
 year. 
 
 We have hinted at the ability with which 
 several of the weekly papers are managed. To 
 say that there is much talent in the conduct of 
 the dailies, both large and small, will not be 
 saying too much. There is, however, a stri- 
 king difference between them, not only as to 
 the amount but as to the kind of talent em- 
 ployed. Original articles of great spirit and 
 vigor may be found in some of the large dai- 
 lies ; while several others are characterized 
 neither by vigor, spirit, nor originality. In 
 fact, there is a plentiful lack of industry in 
 several of the elderly dailies, which are now 
 evidently living on their past reputation. In 
 exertions to obtain the earliest foreign intelli- 
 
142 Newspapers. 
 
 gence and Congressional news, the Courier 
 takes the lead. In local news, police reports, 
 and city affairs in general, the penn}" papers 
 are in the front ground. The praise of in- 
 dustry, in this respect, will be conceded to 
 them. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 
 Of making many books there is no end. 
 
 SoLOMOIf. 
 
 The loaded press beneath her labor groans, 
 And printers' devils shake their weary bones. 
 
 Byroit. 
 
 If New York abounds in the ephemeral 
 productions of the press — in the " folio of 
 four pages" — and the other works which 
 come periodically forth, whether daily, weekly, 
 or monthly — no less fruitful is she in the more 
 enduring productions of paper and type — the 
 octavos, the duodecimos, the eighteens, the 
 twenty-fours, the thirty-twos, the forty-eights, 
 the ninety-sixes, and so on, even up to the 
 one hundred and twenty-eights. We are not 
 certain, indeed, that the printers of this city 
 ever proceed so far as the imposition of tri-- 
 
144 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 
 
 fling matters like the last named ; but at the 
 same time we would not advise any body to 
 dispute their ability to do so, if they choose. 
 
 In nicety of printing we cannot say that 
 they always equal the best ; but that is not so 
 much their fault as that of their employers. 
 Give them fair type, good ink, excellent pa- 
 per, correct proof readers, and time enough 
 to execute their work properly , and if it be 
 not well done, we will own ourselves to be 
 greatly disappointed. 
 
 Does Boston exceed New York in her ty- 
 pography ] We are afraid it must be confessed. 
 But then she uses all the 
 
 " appliances and means to boot," 
 
 that are requisite for producing good work : 
 which is merely saying, in other words, that 
 she has more regard for neatness, beauty, 
 and all those things which belong to the proper 
 mechanism of book-making, than is generally 
 to be found among the publishers of New York 
 Some very admirable work, however, has 
 been executed by the press of this city, within 
 
BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 145 
 
 a year or two. Such in particular is the folio 
 edition of the Common Prayer, published by 
 Conner & Cooke ; and such are some of the 
 works issued from the press of George Dear- 
 born, of Harper & Brothers, &c. &c. In 
 binding', New York may safely challenge any, 
 or all, of the cities in the United States. We 
 have seen nothing superior in strength, beauty, 
 richness, and taste, to the binding executed by 
 Heman Griffin, of this city. 
 
 But this, it must be confessed, is rather an 
 exception to the binding generally inflicted on 
 our books ; many of which fall to pieces on 
 the first reading ; or, if they do not actually 
 suffer that catastrophe, are so twisted out of 
 all shape, so loosened in their leaves, and so 
 evidently ready to go '* the way of all the 
 earth," that you are actually afraid they will 
 perish in your hands, before you have fairly 
 read them through. 
 
 We speak now more especially of what is 
 
 called the cheap binding ; which is mostly of 
 
 cloth, and has within a few years taken the 
 
 place of the former binding in boards : a spe- 
 
 13 
 
146 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 
 
 cies of binding still much used by the princi- 
 pal publishers in Philadelphia ; and, so far at 
 least, quite inferior to that of our own pub- 
 lishers. 
 
 It must be confessed, indeed, that the cheap 
 binding of the present day, however slight, is 
 a decided improvement over the binding in 
 boards, which w^as in common use, for novels 
 and other light works, ten years ago. Another 
 very decided improvement, both in appearance 
 and value, is the lettering on the cloth with 
 gold leaf, instead of labelling the books with 
 paper. 
 
 But the worst feature in modern publishing 
 — and in this respect the Philadelphia publish- 
 ers beat ours — is the vile paper on which most 
 of the books are printed. Made of bad mate- 
 rials, badly wove, and so thin as to be very 
 nearly transparent, it is not surprising that the 
 pages of a book, made of such paper, should 
 cut a very scandalous figure ; and, when print- 
 ed on small type, with bad ink, and a machine 
 press, should be nearly illegible. 
 
BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 147 
 
 Great fault is found with some of our publish- 
 ers, in respect to bad paper. But then they 
 compare their books with those of Philadel- 
 phia ; and pointing one finger to the brown 
 paper of the latter, and another to the fairer 
 complexion of their own flimsy materials, tri- 
 umphantly exclaim, " Behold the difference !'* 
 True, a difference there is ; but it is only a 
 difference in badness. 
 
 The public, however, may thank them- 
 selves for all the bad paper, bad printing, and 
 bad book work of all kinds, of which the pre- 
 sent age is guilty. If they will purchase 
 cheap books, they must take the consequence 
 They cannot reasonably expect, for half price, 
 to obtain a whole-priced article. 
 
 It has happened very strangely in regard 
 to books — and indeed to all kinds of publica- 
 tions — that they have been constantly getting 
 lower in price, while all other commodities 
 have been getting higher. The newspaper 
 has increased to twice its size, without adding 
 to its price ; and books, which were formerly 
 
148 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 
 
 sold for two dollars, are now sold for only 
 one — and not iinfrequently for half a one ! 
 
 The book trade, at the best, is one of little 
 profit and great hazard. The extensive pub- 
 lisher, who is careful to print only such books 
 as will sell, and to sell them only to such per- 
 sons as will pay for them, may make money. 
 Those publishers, on the other hand, who 
 venture upon every thing that is new, print 
 doubtful works, and sell them to doubtful cus- 
 tomers, can scarcely fail, in a very short time, 
 of making a complete failure. But it is the 
 retailers, who in general suffer most, or whose 
 case is most to be commiserated : because, 
 let them manage with what prudence they 
 may, they must suifer great loss ; especially if 
 Ithey are forward to procure all the new pub- 
 lications, and to have the freshest literary 
 goods in the market. Alas ! for their obliging 
 disposition, and their zeal to accomodate their 
 friends and the public ! The literary novel- 
 ties, which were quite fresh when they got 
 ihem, will, a very large part of them, be stale 
 lenough before they find purchasers. They 
 
BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 149 
 
 remain on the shelves, year after year, a per- 
 petually accumulating mass : and no living 
 creature takes a fancy to them ; except it be 
 the flies, for a convenient resting place ; or the 
 moths and the mice, for the nutriment they 
 may extract from their binding, and the nests 
 they may form of their leaves. 
 
 Reader, look in, some day, upon the stock 
 of a large retail dealer, who has been in busi- 
 ness ten or fifteen years. Cast your eye to 
 the highest shelves, and then again to the low- 
 est. Look also into all the odd corners and 
 by-places. And you will see verified what I 
 have mentioned. You will see thousands of 
 unsaleable volumes, for which the bibliopole 
 has paid a high price, and which he cannot 
 sell again at any price ; except it be beneath 
 the hammer of the auctioneer, and then only 
 at a fifth part of their first cost — deducting 
 therefrom the auctioneer's commission of ten 
 per cent. And yet, with their small profits 
 and great losses, we know not that failures 
 have been much more frequent among book- 
 sellers than among the dealers in other com- 
 
150 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 
 
 modities. In half a dozen years, there have 
 
 not been, in New York, so far as we recollect, 
 
 more than half a dozen failures in the book 
 
 trade. This may seem strange. But if we 
 
 might account for it by what seems a para^ 
 
 dox, we should say in regard to most of the 
 
 dealers in books, that they cannot do business 
 enough to fail. 
 
 The number of booksellers, of all kinds, in 
 this city, is about sixty. Of these about fifty 
 do business within doors, and the remainder 
 without. These last, though their trade is 
 small and their gains small, are the most indcr 
 pendent of bibliopoles. They are in no dan- 
 ger of being turned out of doors by the ava - 
 rice or the caprice of their landlords ; and if 
 driven by any untoward circumstances from 
 the corner of one street, they have only to re- 
 move their book store, alias their stand, to the 
 corner of another, and proceed with their bu- 
 siness as before. Several booksellers, now 
 doing a large indoor business, in this city, first 
 
 began by doing a small one in the open 
 Etreet, 
 
BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 15i 
 
 The number of publishers in New York, 
 not engaged in the general book-trade, is not 
 above five or six. The principal of these are 
 Harper & Brothers, George Dearborn, Con- 
 ner &: Cooke, Saunders & Otley, and Charles 
 Wells. Others — as Collins. Keese & Co., 
 Leavitt & Lord, the Brothers Carvill, Daniel 
 Appleton, John S. Taylor, &c. &;c. who are 
 
 general booksellers, also publish more or 
 
 less. 
 
 But it is believed that the amount of books, 
 published by Harper & Brothers, equal, if it 
 do not exceed, that of all other publishers in 
 this city. We are informed, that the num- 
 ber of volumes of all sorts, issued by them in 
 a single year, is not less then one million. Last 
 year, they published about 200,000 volumes 
 of original American works. 
 
 This, of itself — allowing there were no other 
 publishers of our home manufacture — would 
 be pretty good evidence that there is, at the 
 present day, no very plentiful lack of Amerj^ 
 can authorship. And if it should still be ask- 
 ed by some British critic — as it was a few 
 
152 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 
 
 years ago — " who reads an American book?" 
 it can scarcelj' be a question at least, who pub- 
 lishes one. 
 
 But American authorship has risen very 
 materially in the English market, of late years. 
 And so, indeed, has American actorship, if we 
 may judge by the success of Forrest, Miss Chf- 
 ton, Yankee Hill, and Jim Crow. Time was, 
 when all our actors, as well as all our books, 
 were imported. But now our exports — at 
 least in actors — nearly equal our imports ; 
 and should the reflux of the dramatic trade 
 continue as it has begun, the balance will in a 
 short time be in favor of America. 
 
 But, to return to the great publishing house 
 of Harper & Brothers. Though these gentle- 
 men publish so much, they are exceedingly 
 cautious as to the character of their publica- 
 tions. As certain kings and great men, of 
 whom we read, used, in former times, to keep 
 a taster, whose business it was to see that 
 the food was not poisoned : so do Harper & 
 Brothers employ a reader, to vrhose critical 
 judgment and moral taste are subjected all 
 
BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 153 
 
 new works, whether American or imported ; 
 and without whose sanction none of these 
 works are ever permitted to see the hght. 
 This course is judicious, on more accounts 
 than one. It not only insures the purity of 
 the moral, and the briskness of the intellect- 
 ual, atmosphere, as far as the press of Harper 
 & Brothers is concerned ; but also provides ef- 
 fectually against the assertion that their books 
 " are never read." 
 
 The publications of the Harpers are o f all 
 classes, 
 
 " From grave to gay, from lively to severe." 
 
 Those of Leavitt and Lord are mostly religious. 
 Those of Dearborn are chiefly works of stand- 
 ard literature. So are those of Wells, and of 
 Conner and Cooke. Collins, Keese, & Com- 
 pany publish mostly elementary and school 
 books. But the principal part of the business 
 of this latter firm is in the wholesale book 
 trade ; in which they doubtless do a larger busi- 
 ness than any other house in the United States, 
 They deal mostly in American books : pur^ 
 
154 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. | 
 
 chasing from publishers in every part of the 
 Union, and selling again to booksellers in 
 every part. 
 
 But the most profitable book trade in the 
 city is, perhaps, that of James E. Cooley, un- 
 der the hammer. His trade sales are semi- 
 annual — in March and in September. They 
 usually continue each about a vi^eek, during 
 which time his auction room is crowded with 
 booksellers from all parts of the Union ; and 
 the amount of books, stationery, and printing 
 materials, which exchange hands, is immense. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CITY GOVERNMENT. 
 Like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side. — ^As you like it. 
 
 The form of our city government does not 
 very materially differ from that established by 
 the Dutch, in the days of Governor Van Twil- 
 ler. Then the Council consisted of two 
 boards, namely, the Burgermeesters and the 
 Schepens. Our Common Council, in like 
 manner, consists of two boards, to wit, the 
 Aldermen and Assistant Aldermen. The 
 Dutch corporation, as we are informed by 
 the "only authentic history of New York," was 
 composed of fat men. The corporation of 
 the present day will likewise be found to be in 
 good bodily condition. The business of the 
 schepens was to assist the burgermeesters. 
 The business of our assistant aldermen is to 
 assist the aldermen. 
 
156 CITY GOVERNMENT. 
 
 So far they seem very perfectly to agree : 
 their outward form and apparent use being the 
 same. The principal difference is in the spirit 
 and mode of operations. The Dutch sche- 
 pens, saith the " only authentic history," were 
 appointed to help the burgermeesters eat, 
 drink, and smoke. It was also a part of their 
 duty to fill the pipes and laugh at the wit of 
 the superior board. In this latter respect, our 
 assistant aldermen have a far easier task : for 
 our worthy aldermen, so far as we ever heard, 
 never perpetrate wit ; and there is no filling 
 of pipes, for the fathers of the city now smoke 
 segars. 
 
 But the duties of both boards, in these lat- 
 ter days, differ very materially from those of 
 the golden age of Wouter Van Twiller. 
 They are now obliged to legislate, as well as 
 to eat and drink. They have now appoint- 
 ments to make, other than those of dining, 
 supping, and smoking. They are now bodies 
 of some power, and not the mere appendages 
 of the chief magistrate. They have now 
 three hundred thousand people,of " every na- 
 
CITY GOVERNMENT. 157 
 
 tion, kindred, and tongue," to take care of, 
 instead of a few quiet, easy Dutchmen. 
 
 The city of New York consists, at present, 
 of seventeen Wards ; a new ward having, 
 with great wisdom, been recently created. 
 We say with great wisdom, because the num- 
 ber of wards should always be odd : especially 
 where the division of parties is nearly even. 
 An odd number — as every good woman 
 knows, in the hatching of ducks and gos- 
 lings—is apt to be most fortunate. No less 
 so is it in the hatching of municipal affairs : 
 as the two boards of 1836 found, to their 
 cost ; but much more to the cost of their con- 
 stituents. The parties being equally divided in 
 each board, came very near never coming to a 
 choice of their presiding officers. For many 
 weeks they balloted, night after night ; and came 
 no nearer a choice than when they first began. 
 The result was perpetually, "eight and eight." 
 Neither the Whigs would yield, nor the Tam- 
 manies. The people were loud in their cen- 
 sures ; the papers were vocal in their dis- 
 14 
 
158 CITY GOVERNMENT. 
 
 praise. The affairs of the city were " at sixes 
 and sevens." The Government was nearly 
 at a stand ; and the people began to despair. 
 Luckily, the Fourth of July was drawing 
 on : and it was indispensably necessary that 
 the two boards should organize, a httle pre- 
 vious to that day, in order to vote themselves 
 a public dinner, and make due provision for 
 all the arrangements of cookery, of wine, 
 punch, and segars. They grew suddenly pa- 
 triotic. " It is a pity," said they, " that the 
 interests of the people should suffer, by reason 
 of our party feuds. We must organize and 
 proceed to business. It will not do to neg- 
 lect our constituents, whatever our political 
 opinions may be. We must give way a little, 
 in party matters — especially in the present 
 emergency." So the aldermen elected a Tam- 
 many man president; and the assistants ele- 
 vated a Whig. 
 
 So happy an end was put to this famous 
 division of " eight and eight." But it was re- 
 solved not to be so caught again, for want of 
 an odd number in each board. The legisla- 
 
CITY GOVERNMENT. 159 
 
 ture was applied to, and graciously granted 
 the prayer of the city for a new ward. 
 
 We have assigned to the corporation of 
 New York some power, and also the duties of 
 legislation. Power they certainly have, over 
 butchers' stalls, dram-shops, street inspec- 
 tors, town pumps, and many other things 
 within the city, as well as the waters of 
 the two rivers : reaching even to the city of 
 Jersey on the one side, and the city of Brook- 
 lyn on the other. Concerning these matters 
 they can legislate. But for many weighty 
 and important concerns, they might as well be 
 without any power. They hold a very lim- 
 ted charter — as is seen in the case of the new 
 ward ; for the erection of which they were 
 obliged to ask leave of their superiors at Al- 
 bany. As though it were a matter of any 
 consequence to the state of New York, 
 whether the number of wards were more or 
 less in the city of New York ! A charter is 
 not worth having, unless it gives power to 
 transact all necessary business for the interests 
 of the city ; not contravening any law of the 
 state or the United States. Yet such is the 
 
160 CITY GOVERNMENT. 
 
 condition of this great city : her hands are so 
 tied up ; she is so helpless — so unable to do 
 any important thing of herself — that she is 
 obliged to be running every year to Albany, 
 to ask leave of the state legislature to draw 
 her breath freely and at ease. She had bet- 
 ter in the next amendment of her charter have 
 " grace said over the whole barrel" at once, 
 ;and done with it. 
 
 But if our worthy corporation are some- 
 what stinted in the number and variety of 
 their powers, they cannot be called niggardly 
 in the exercise of such as they possess : as 
 those in office, when power changes hands, 
 are able to testify. Being, as our motto hath 
 it, " like an ill roasted egg, all on one side," 
 this power operates less for the good of the 
 city, than for the gratification of party pre- 
 judice, party views, and party " monopoly of 
 the spoils." The incumbents then feel the 
 power of the corporation. The operation of 
 joint ballot comes ; the old placemen are dis- 
 placed, from the greatest to the least, and 
 new ones placed in their room. " Is he 
 
CITY GOVERNMENT. 161 
 
 honest, is he capable, is he faithful ]" These 
 trifling questions are^never asked. It is more 
 to the point to know on which side he voted, 
 how many votes he brought with him to the 
 poll, and how many speeches he made prior 
 to, and at the election. Political virtue never 
 looks to the good of the people, but to the ad- 
 vantages of the party. Ingratitude to faithful 
 friends and staunch partisans, is not, at least 
 in our day, among the number of political 
 sins. " To the victors belong the spoils," and 
 the successful leaders, dare not be niggardly, 
 or stray from party bounds, in their distribu- 
 tion. 
 
 Though the character of a New York cor- 
 poration is, in general, that of perfect one- 
 sidedness ; the two boards of '36, as we have 
 already seen in the affair of " eight and eight," 
 were as two-sided as could well be desired. 
 The only thing they ever cordially agreed on 
 was the great anniversary dinner above named. 
 The old placemen remained in place, because 
 the parties were too much divided to agree 
 on the substitution of new ones. 
 14* 
 
162 CITY GOVERNMENT. 
 
 It must be said, to the credit of all the boards 
 with which New York has for many years 
 been blessed, that, however they may neglect 
 the minor concerns of the city, they never fail 
 to pay proper attention to the interesting sub- 
 ject of the great annual dinner on the Fourth 
 of July. They invariably appropriate money, 
 to feed themselves on that occasion ; and their 
 patriotism is shown, not less by the amount 
 than the regularity of the appropriation. For 
 the sum, they seem to have a standing rule. 
 It is just ^2000 : certainly a very Hberal allow- 
 ance for dining so small a body of men, 
 though they be aldermen, assistants, and 
 mayor to ^boot. 
 
 Let us make a slight calculation of the ex- 
 pense per head — or rather the expens.e per 
 belly. The seventeen wards choose seventeen 
 aldermen and seventeen assistants — making 
 thirty-four in all. Add the mayor, and — al- 
 lowing he only counts one, the same as an 
 alderman — you have a total of thirty-five. Di- 
 vide $2000 by thirty-five, and you have a 
 quotient of $57 and some odd cents ; which 
 
CITY GOVERNMENT. 16 
 
 Q 
 
 is just the expense per man, of the great 
 patriotic dinner. But suppose we add to these 
 chiefs, some of the underlings of the corpora- 
 tion — such as the clerks of the two boards, 
 and the doorkeepers ; and even throw in the 
 commissioner of the alms-house : the whole 
 only amount to forty ; which being made the 
 divisor of the $2000, gives a quotient of just 
 $50 to each man. 
 
 What these gentlemen eat, or what they 
 drink — never having had the honor to dine 
 with them, we positively cannot inform our 
 readers. But we think they will agree with 
 us, that it must be a very capital dinner in- 
 deed, that costs ffty dollars. 
 
 If any reader should marvel how the cor- 
 poration dare thus sport with the people's 
 money — thus lavish it on themselves, even to 
 the amount of a fifty-dollar dinner : we beg 
 he will consider, for one moment, who our 
 corporation are ; and, moreover, what remu- 
 neration they get for all their toils and exer- 
 tions in the cause of the people. Like the 
 members of the British Parliament, they re- 
 
164 CITY GOVERNMENT. 
 
 ceive no pay. The only emolument they get, 
 is the honor and glory of being aldermen and 
 assistants. If they could not, with all this 
 patriotic sacrifice, vote themselves a grand 
 dinner once a year, and now and then an ex- 
 tra lunch at the alms-house — as they are ac- 
 customed to do — their office, save in the re- 
 ceipt of honor and glory, would be an empty 
 affair indeed. The mayor's duties are not so 
 entirely gratuitous. His salary is ^3000. 
 
 Formerly that officer was chosen by the 
 two boards. But the people, believing them- 
 selves to be as competent to the choice of a 
 mayor as of common council, sent, one winter 
 — some three or four years ago — post haste 
 to Albany, and got their charter amended ; 
 since which they have been freemen in full. 
 
 Formerly, also, the common council con- 
 sisted of only a single board, namely, the al- 
 dermen. The entire weight of our city affairs 
 rested on their shoulders — even to the eating, 
 without assistants, of the great annual dinner. 
 We never heard, however, that they com- 
 plained of this. On the contrary, they bore 
 
CITY GOVERNMENT. 165 
 
 the burden patiently, and discharged their duty 
 with all becoming diligence. We never heard, 
 even, that they asked for any assistants, or 
 demanded the aid of a second board. The 
 first idea of providing them help, we believe, 
 originated with the people. The aldermen, in 
 fact, were so satisfied with their laborious du- 
 ties, and so confident of their ability to dis- 
 charge them without any aid, that they were 
 quite scandalized at the idea of an additional 
 board. They insisted upon continuing, as 
 they had done, to bear all the burden, and take 
 all the responsibility. But the people would not 
 allow it. They had too much of the proper 
 kind of feeling, to be willing to "work a free 
 horse to death." You shall have assistants, 
 said they ; and to Albany they went, as usual, 
 and obtained leave to erect a new board. 
 
 The mayor, aldermen, and assistants of New 
 York, are chosen annually, on the 2d Tuesday 
 of April ; or to speak more properly, they be- 
 gin to be chosen on that day ; for they do 
 not fairly succeed in getting in, until two 
 days afterwards. So great an affair is an elec^ 
 
166 CITY GOVERNMENT. 
 
 tion in the " empire state." Think of it, ye 
 Bostonians who begin and end your elections 
 on the same day. Think of it, ye Philadel- 
 phians, who get through with yours with the 
 like expedition. What petty affairs must they 
 be, and how slightly executed, when so short 
 a time suffices for their completion. Come 
 hither some leisure day, if you would see an 
 election done up in magnificent style. 
 
 Such crowding ! — such jostling ! — such 
 pushing ! — such swearing ! — you would sup- 
 pose the whole thing were to be done in a 
 single day, and that the freemen were pushing 
 so to get in their votes, because they were 
 pushed for time. No such thing. We have 
 just said they have three days allowed them. 
 But the truth is, the more they swear the less 
 they do. It is not, as in Boston, " Walk up, 
 Gentlemen! walk up, and deposite your 
 votes!" But it is, ''Keep them back, constable ! 
 keep them back ! Dont let them scrouge up 
 to the poll so 1" 
 
 To get in 60 votes an hour, is a very thriv- 
 ing business in New York. Some wards, in- 
 
CITY GOVERNMENT. 167 
 
 deed, have exceeded it, where the presiding 
 officers have been dexterous, and where there 
 was very little challenging and less swearing. 
 These are apt to take up a great deal of time • 
 especially in those very contested elections, 
 where votes, that are even known to be legal, 
 are disputed. Such was the case a year or two 
 since, when the votes of Philip Hone and other 
 distinguished citizens, who were born and had 
 lived to a good old age in the city, were chal- 
 lenged. The privilege of challenge was de- 
 signed to secure the purity of elections; but in 
 cases like the above named, it is rendered 
 purely vexatious. 
 
 A further security against illegal votes is 
 proposed by the requirement of an oath in 
 disputed cases. How small is the value of 
 this security, may be easily imagined, when 
 we take into consideration, that the rogue who 
 offers a false vote, is not very likely to be re- 
 strained by conscientious scruples from swear- 
 ing it in. " I woted this wery day in seven 
 wards," said a fellow, at a late election, " and 
 I 'sign to wote in all the 'tothers, to-morrow 
 
168 CITY GOVERNMENT. 
 
 and next day, if they'll o'ny pay me gine-* 
 rously." 
 
 " Pay you !" 
 
 " Yes : you don't think I'd trampoose about 
 from poll to poll, for nothin, do you 1" 
 
 " How much do you get for each vote ?' 
 
 " Two shill'ns, and somethin to drink." 
 
 " Cheap enough too." 
 
 " I'll be hanged if 'taint. And yet it's better'ii 
 nothin. 'Tis'nt every man what's made fourteen 
 shill'ns to day. Have you done't, mister ?" 
 
 *^ Indeed I have not. But how do you 
 work it to get in so many votes *?" 
 
 ^' Oh, I swears 'em in." 
 
 Some honest citizens of New York have 
 tried hard to obtain a law for the registry of 
 voters : to obviate the necessity of challeng- 
 ing, to do away with the profane practice of 
 swearing, and at the same time secure the 
 purity of elections. But such a law would 
 prove ruinous to the trade in politics ; and 
 therefore cannot reasonably be expected to 
 pass. 
 
CHAPTER XVL 
 
 CONDITION OF THE STREETS, 
 
 But let me scrape the dirt away. 
 
 John Gilpii?, 
 
 The condition of the streets, in a great city^ 
 is of very great importance, because on that 
 condition depends the comfort and conve- 
 nience of a great many persons. We will 
 suppose, that of the 300,000 inhabitants of 
 New York, only one tenth, on an average, are 
 in the streets at a time : then there are, at 
 once, 30,000 persons suffering annoyance if 
 the condition of the streets be bad ; or enjoy- 
 ing their walks, their rides, and their business 
 operations, if that condition be good. 
 
 "New York, I perceive" — said a gentleman 
 
 the other day, scraping the mud from Jiis 
 
 boots — " still holds her own. She had, as far 
 
 back as I can remember, the reputation of 
 
 15 
 
170 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 
 
 being the dirtiest city in the Union ; and she 
 maintains it still. I have been recently in 
 Boston, Philadelphia, BaUimore, and several 
 other cities ; but I have seen nothing in the 
 way of foul streets, to compare vrith New 
 York." 
 
 A preeminence in dirt ! This was more 
 than we had looked for , more certainly than 
 we desired to claim. A superiority in many 
 other respects we would have contended for — 
 nay insisted upon, were it with our last 
 breath. In commerce we would have chal- 
 lenged comparison with all the other cities in 
 the Union, in a lump. In wealth, in popula- 
 tion, in theatres, in churches, in magazines, 
 in newspapers, and in twenty other things, we 
 would have asserted and maintained, vi et ar- 
 mis, our decided superiority. Even in the 
 matter of streets, we would have claimed the 
 longest, the broadest, and the handsomest. 
 But for preeminence in dirt, it came not into 
 our head, that our beloved city, our darling 
 New York, had any thing wonderful to boast. 
 
 True, in former times, we knew wherea- 
 
CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 171 
 
 bouts she stood, on that score. We knew 
 that she was as deep in the mud as any other 
 city could be in the mire. The newspapers 
 were full of the uncleanliness of her ways. 
 Children were said to have been buried ahve 
 in her miry depths.*' 
 
 * The following appeared in a New York paper of 1829 : 
 LOST IN THE MUD. 
 
 SCENE — ONE OF THE PRINCIPAL STREETS OF NEW YORK. 
 
 Mother, [wilh a stick poking in the mud.] Ah, me ! I'm 
 sure he's here aboutssome where, the dear cratur, and if I 
 ounly had a longer stick, so that I could poke down a little 
 grain deeper, I should find the darling ! 
 
 Walker. What have you lost, gpod woman ? llending 
 the aid of his cane to assist in the search."] 
 
 M. Och, bless your kind soul ! it's my swate little child, 
 my darling Jemmy, that's lost in the mud. 
 
 W. A child lost in the mud, in the city of New York ? 
 impossible ! The woman's crazy. 
 
 M. Ah, I'm sure he must be here — jist here abouts, 
 where I saw him trying to cross a minute ago — Och, the 
 darling ! Jemmy ! Jemmy ! [^elevating her voice.] Jemmy ! 
 my darling, if you're under the mud, spake ! ^putting 
 doion her ear to listen.] 
 
 W. How old was your boy ? 
 
 M. Och, indeed, he was but five years ould jist, come 
 next Michaelmas, that is to be. 
 
172 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 
 
 But this should hardly be taken for gospel. 
 Some allowance should be made for the dis- 
 
 W. And do you think a child five years old could be 
 lost in the mud here ? 
 
 M. Ah, what is there to hinder, sure? And if you'll jist 
 stick your cane down here, won't you light upon him ? 
 Aisy, aisy, bless your heart, or may be you'll hurt the darl- 
 ing. 
 
 Voice. \^From below ^ somewhat smothered andindistinct.'\ 
 A little lower — there — there — sl- grain lower, and I can 
 reach it. 
 
 M. Och, the darUng ! there he is, sure enough. Don't 
 try to talk, Jemmy, or may be you'll git your swate Uttle 
 mouth full o' mud. 
 
 V. {^Like one talking with a mouthful of mush. '\ There, 
 now, I've got hold of it — pull, now ! pull ! 
 
 M. Yes, bless your kind heart, do pull ! 
 
 V. Uts ! my hand has slipped — a little lower — there, I 
 guess I can hold on with both hands. Now pull ! 
 
 M: Ay, now pull ! 
 
 V. Aisy ! Aisy ! 
 
 M. Hold fast, Jemmy ! Och, my darUng, there he 
 comes ! Spet the mud out o' your mouth, Jemmy, and then 
 thank the jontleman for hilping ye out. Lord love your 
 swate soul, Mister, whoever you are, for saving my child. 
 And Jemmy, my dear Jemmy, listen to your mother, and 
 never try again to cross the streets of this blessed city, till 
 you're big enough to hilp yourself out o' the mud, jist, my 
 darling. 
 
CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 173 
 
 position of editors to exaggerate — to run into 
 the forbidden fields of romance. But after 
 all, it must be owned, that, until within a 
 few years, New York was shamefully dirty. 
 Even as late as*- the year '32, she had not 
 greatly improved. The first thorough clean- 
 sing she ever had, was in the summer of that 
 year ; and for this cleansing the cholera is to 
 be thanked. 
 
 Walter Bowne, the mayor of that year, 
 having, while the cholera was on its way from 
 Canada, issued his proclamation, forbidding 
 its entrance into his domains : and the 
 cholera, in its victorious march, having paid 
 no regard to this paper prohibition ; the fathers 
 of the city began to bethink themselves of 
 abating the fury and shortening the stay of 
 that dread enemy, as much as possible, by di- 
 vesting the city of that foul aliment on which 
 the pestilence delights to feed. 
 
 They resolved to clean the streets; and 
 
 the streets were cleaned. For the first time, 
 
 within the memory of living man, the stones 
 
 of the pavements every where showed their 
 
 15* 
 
174 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 
 
 heads. The rain had occasionally washed 
 them bare, where its operations were assisted 
 by a goodly descent towards the rivers on 
 either side. But, in the more level streets, 
 the stones, after having once been fixed by 
 the pavior, rarely had shown themselves again 
 to mortal eyes. In 1832, after the arrival of 
 the cholera, they were first scraped and swept 
 clean ; and the filth carted away. 
 
 Formerly there were no street scavangers. 
 There was a law requiring each householder 
 as often, we believe, as once a week to sweep 
 beft)re his own door ; not only the side-walk, 
 but also halfway across the street, where his 
 opposite neighbor was to meet him. The dirt, 
 swept in heaps, was to be carried away by 
 the carts. What was the penalty for non- 
 sweeping or non-carrying away, we do not re- 
 collect. But we well remember that the 
 householders swept as often as they pleased ; 
 and for the matter of being carried away, the 
 dirt often remained in heaps for several days ; 
 or rather the heaps were trodden and scatter- 
 ed about again ; and required to be swept 
 
CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 175 
 
 and collected anew. The result was as we 
 have seen : the streets were never once per- 
 fectly cleansed. 
 
 How surprised, then, were the citizens of 
 New York, in the summer of '32, to behold 
 the tidiness of their streets. " Where in 
 the world did all these stones come from .^" 
 said an old lady who had lived all her life in 
 the city ; *' I never knew that the streets were 
 covered with stones before. How very 
 droll !" 
 
 But the cleanliness of New York, during that 
 cholera summer, it must be confessed, was in 
 part ascribable to the want of business and the 
 scarcity of inhabitants : the first having al- 
 most entirely disappeared, and the latter in 
 great numbers, by reason of the pestilence. 
 Seventy-five thousand human beings, and 
 several thousand horses, carts, and other vehi- 
 cles, make a very considerable difference in the 
 generation of street-dirt. Having been once, 
 therefore, thoroughly swept and cleansed, it 
 was comparatively easy to keep the streets 
 
176 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 
 
 clean, until the return of the inhabitants and 
 the revival of business. 
 
 " It is an ill wind that blows nobody good ;" 
 a character which certainly cannot be fasten- 
 ed on the wind, which brought the cholera 
 hither. Though New York had to lament 
 the removal of 3,500 of her inhabitants, 
 she had also to rejoice at the removal of many 
 thousand loads of filth, which, but for the 
 sweeping pestilence, might have remained to 
 this day. 
 
 New York has never entirely 'relapsed into 
 those abominably dirty habits, for which she 
 was so long notorious. Her system of street 
 management is improved. Regular scaven- 
 gers are now employed ; and they may be 
 seen, sometimes, busily engaged with their 
 hoes and their brooms. It cannot strictly be 
 said, therefore, in the language quoted at the 
 beginning of this chapter, that " New York 
 still holds her own" in the way of dirt — if 
 this " own" refer to her possession of that ar- 
 ticle previous to the year 1832. She is, at 
 least fifty per cent more tidy than she was 
 previous to that date. 
 
CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 177 
 
 But she is still quite too much of a slattern. 
 She ought to add another fifty per cent to her 
 cleanliness, to render her anywise decent, and 
 fit to receive strangers. When the Bostoni- 
 ans and the Philadelphians visit us, they should 
 have no occasion to turn up their noses at our 
 city while they stay, and " shake off the dust 
 from their feet, as a testimony against us," 
 when they depart. They should not even 
 have it in their power, in the language of 
 honest Dogberry, to make " odorous compa- 
 risons" between their cities and ours. 
 
 As we are a great city : as we take the 
 lead in commerce, gaiety, fashion, bustle, and 
 the earliest foreign news : so we ought also 
 to set the example of cleanliness and proprie- 
 ty, in all matters appertaining to the streets. 
 Instead of its being said of any place, by way 
 of opprobrium, " it is as filthy as New York," 
 we ought to give occasion to all respectable 
 places to say, by way of self-commendation, 
 " we are as clean as New York." But if we 
 cannot set the example of cleanliness to 
 other cities, we ought not to be above taking 
 it from them. 
 
178 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 
 
 The fault of New-York lies not so much, 
 at present, we believe, in the mode, as in the 
 means, of keeping the streets in order. The 
 fault is not so much in the street inspectors, 
 as in those under whose orders they act. 
 However attentive to their duties, however 
 desirous to make clean their ways, they cannot 
 do what they would, if money be wanting. 
 The scavengers and the carters must be paid ; 
 and the means must be provided by the com- 
 mon council. We cannot ask them to forego 
 their annual two-thousand dollar dinner ; we 
 cannot deprive them of the pleasure of an oc- 
 casional lunch at the alms house ; for these are 
 the only solid fruits of all their official toils 
 and exertions. But we would just ask them 
 to appropriate money enough to do, thorough- 
 ly, what they undertake to do ; and what the 
 world shames them for not doing : that is, keep 
 the streets clean — habitually clean — and tho- 
 roughly clean 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 
 
 Why in quest 
 Of foreign vintage, insincere, audmixt, 
 Traverse th' extreraest world ? 
 
 Philips. 
 
 Or water all the quorum ten miles round. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 The story is well known of, that unfortu- 
 nate Hibernian, who, being afflicted with a 
 fever, "lay six weeks in the long month of 
 August, spacheless, crying continually, * wa- 
 ther ! wather ! wather !' " 
 
 The cry of the citizens of New- York for 
 water — " pure and wholesome water" — has 
 been equally unceasing; but it has differ- 
 ed in several respects from that of the poor 
 Irishman. Instead of being speechless they 
 have cried aloud. And instead of confining 
 
180 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 
 
 their cry to the month of August, or any other | 
 month, they have been clamoring for the whole 
 year round, and for many years in succession^ 
 There is not perhaps in the Union a city more 
 destitute of the blessing of good water than 
 New- York. 
 
 The present supply, such as it is, comes 
 from three sources, to wit : the town pumps, 
 the Manhattan Company, and Knapp's spring. 
 To this we should add a fourth source, namely, 
 the clouds ; from which the chief supply for 
 washing is obtained. 
 
 The town pumps are conveniently situated 
 at the corners of the streets, every where 
 throughout the city; so that no person who is 
 athirst, need perish for want of water, if he 
 will take the trouble of walking the length of 
 a square. If he stand in need of physic at the j 
 same time, the pump will furnish that also — 
 without money and without price. Besides 
 the virtue derived from the neighboring sinks, 
 the pump-water is also impregnated with cer- 
 tain saline properties, which render it peculi- 
 arly efficacious in certain compldints. 
 
WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 181 
 
 m 
 
 Little less so is that — if we may judge from 
 lis peculiar hue and taste— which comes from 
 the Collect ; and is called Manhattan water. 
 This is ready pumped up to the people's hands, 
 by the Manhattan Banking Company, which 
 was chartered many years ago, for the purpose 
 of supplying the city with '' pure and whole- 
 some water." Not that the people get it 
 gratis, as they do the town pump beverage. 
 But they can have it brought to their houses in 
 pipes, on application to the Manhattan Com- 
 pany, and paying the regular price. The 
 pumping up of this water from the depths of 
 the Collect, is an expensive affair. It requires 
 the constant employment of a powerful steam 
 engine, and the constant operation of a still 
 more powerful banking company; which com- 
 pany is provided with a perpetual charter to 
 issue bank bills and discount notes. By per- 
 petual, meaning of course, as long as they 
 shall keep the great steam pump in operation. 
 With such an inducement to keep their stream 
 of " pure and wholesome water" constantly 
 running, it is not likely that this source will 
 16 
 
182 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 
 
 soon fail. But *' pure and wholesome" as it 
 is, by the express terms of the charter, the 
 people generally prefer that from the town 
 pumps, except for the purposes of washing; 
 and for that, most people use rain water. 
 
 The third source, namely Knapp's Spring, 
 furnishes the only tolerable water in the cit3% 
 This is conveyed about the streets in hogs- 
 heads, and sold, we believe, at a penny a gal- 
 Jon. Small as this price seems, their supply 
 of spring water, we are informed, costs some 
 of the larger hotels more than ^300 each, per 
 annum. The hotels, boarding houses, and 
 respectable private families make use of this 
 water for tea, coffee, and ordinary drink. 
 The poor all resort to the street pumps. 
 
 Such is, such has been, and such is likely 
 to be for some years to come, the condition of 
 New York, in regard to the indispensable ar- 
 ticle of water.* The great difficulty in sup- 
 
 * What we have said above, of the New York supply of 
 water, relates only to that for the domestic and ordinary 
 uses of our citizens. The supply for the extinguishing of 
 fires is derived chiefly from the Reservoir, at the comer of 
 
WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 183 
 
 plying the city properly — that is, plentifully 
 and with a good article — is the very great dis- 
 tance from which it must be brought. Various 
 projects have from time to time been started, 
 examined, discussed, debated, and finally 
 thrown aside as impracticable ; until very re- 
 cently, when it was resolved, after a scientific 
 survey of the river and the ground, and duly 
 calculating the expense, to bring hither the 
 waters of the Croton. For this purpose an 
 act has been obtained of the legislature ; and 
 if money can be raised, the water will pro- 
 bably be forthcoming, sometime within the 
 life-lease of the present generation. 
 
 That part of the Croton river from whence 
 the water is to be taken, is about forty-four 
 miles, in a northerly direction, from the City 
 Hall. The water is to be conveyed by a 
 covered aqueduct of strong mason work, to 
 
 Thirteenth street and the Bowery. This water is forced 
 up by steam, and distributed to the various parts of the 
 city ; where hydrants are erected at eveiy corner. This 
 scheme of a supply against fires is of very recent date ; 
 and is found of immense use : for which we give our wor- 
 thy corporation aU due praise. 
 
184 WATER AND OTHER LIQUID-Sr 
 
 a rise of land on the island, called Murray 
 Hill ; from whence, by the force of its own 
 gravity, it will distribute itself through all the 
 streets and avenues of the city — as by the 
 force of the same gravity, it is to be brought 
 from the high ground of its fountain head to 
 the great reservoir on Murray Hill. The 
 length of pipe, required for the distribution, 
 is estimated at 167 miles. 
 
 The amount of water, which the Croton 
 will furnish, is set down at 30,000,000 gallons 
 daily, in the driest times ; and 50,000,000 
 daily, in times of ordinary plenty. In the 
 former case, the supply for each inhabitant, 
 old and young, of our present population, 
 would be 100 gallons a day ; in the latter, 
 166§ gallons for the same time : a supply al- 
 together sufficient, it is believed, to satisfy 
 the desires of the most laborious water-drinker 
 the city can afford ; besides leaving a surplus 
 for all the convenient purposes of making tea, 
 cofiee, cleansing the outer man, and ex* 
 tinguishing fires. 
 
WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 185 
 
 The Croton water is found, by chemical 
 analysis, to be exceedingly pure, and such as 
 will prove highly agreeable to the tastes of 
 all hydro-epicures — or such persons as value 
 themselves on their connoisseurship in the ar- 
 ticle of " Adam's ale." Being pure, it can- 
 not fail, also, of being soft — because hard 
 water owes all its hardness to the foreign mat- 
 ters it contains ; especially those which have a 
 hankering after alkali, and rob the soap of 
 that ingredient — leaving on your hands those 
 unctuous collections which are far more diffi- 
 cult of removal than the original soil itself. 
 Thus free from impurities, the Croton water 
 will be a great inducement to personal clean- 
 liness. Having it, as they will, running pure 
 into their very bedrooms, the citizens will find 
 it an agreeable pastime, instead of a disgusting 
 labor, to wash themselves of a morning. The 
 Philadelphians, who visit New York, shall 
 not then have occasion to make the invidious 
 comparison, they now do, between their de- 
 16* 
 
186 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS- 
 
 lightful Schuylkill water and the vile slops 
 wherewith our bedrooms are furnished.* 
 
 All this, and more, we expect from the 
 Croton water, when it gets to New York. 
 But that when, we fear is a considerable way 
 off. The expense will be enormous — no less, 
 by estimate, than $5,500,000. The labor 
 will be immense. And large bodies, like our 
 corporation, proverbialy, move slow. Some 
 years therefore, must elapse, before we shall 
 be able to quench our thirst and lave our 
 limbs in the pure waters of the Croton. 
 
 This delay is to be regretted on many ac- 
 counts ; and very particularly, as it will afford 
 an excuse to many persons for continuing the 
 excessive use of strong drink. The water is 
 
 * The best water for washing, in New York, is that 
 which comes from the clouds. And, indeed, nothing 
 could be better, if you could catch it pure, as it falls. But 
 in passing over the roofs of the houses, from whence it is 
 conveyed to the cisterns, it contracts so much foulness 
 from the coal-ashes and soot on the roofs, that its appear- 
 ance is nearly as dark as ink, and its smell any thing but 
 agreeable, as it comes in contact with your nose, in the 
 operation of washing your face. 
 
WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 18*7 
 
 now SO bad, they plead, that it is absolutely 
 necessary to qualify it with a drop of ardent 
 spirits, to render it potable. But a single 
 drop will not suffice ; and many drops, even 
 to a full stream, are added to the cup. 
 
 To give the greater foundation for the ex- 
 cuse, and at the same time to render it more 
 available, the principal topers get their quali- 
 fying drops at those cheap resorts where 
 rum, brandy, gin, and whiskey may be had 
 
 for three cents per glass ; and where the wa- 
 ter is usually derived from the town-pumps. 
 
 What is the entire number of dram-shops 
 
 in New York, we know not.* But they may 
 
 be found at almost every corner throughout 
 
 * It will probably not be too high to estimate the whole 
 number in the city at 2000. That will give on an aver- 
 age one shop to every 150 inhabitants. Deducting four 
 fifths of these, for women and children, and there is just one 
 shop to every 30 men. But with all this plentiful supply 
 of drunkeries, there is nothing like the glorious times for 
 the toper, which Smollett describes as existing in London in 
 the days of George II. " At many houses," says that his- 
 torian, '' boards were set up to give pubUe notice, that a 
 person might get drunk for a penny, dead drunk for two 
 pence, and be furnished with straw for nothing." 
 
188 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 
 
 the city, and at almost every door of the build- 
 ings bordering on the North and East rivers* 
 Besides those places devoted to the mere sale 
 and swilling of liquors ; almost every grocery 
 is likewise a dram-shop. Not only tea, cof- 
 fee, sugar, molasses, butter and cheese are 
 sold at these establishments ; but likewise ar- 
 dent spirits of all sorts, by the gallon and the 
 glass. And the trade in these latter articles is 
 thought to be the most lucrative of the two. 
 But if the bad water is an excuse for drink- 
 ing ardent spirits, the bad quality of the spirits 
 should be a still stronger excuse for letting 
 them alone.* The world, perhaps, does not 
 
 * Whether it is owing to the bad water, or the bad Hquors, 
 in New- York, that this city is so much more unhealthy than 
 London, we are not able to say. But, if we may rely on the 
 statement of Mr. Grant, the mortality in that metropolis is 
 not so great, in proportion to the number of the inhabitants, 
 by more than one third, as in the city of New-York. After 
 pronouncing London to be " by far the healthiest metropo- 
 lis in the world," he says, "the annual number of deaths in 
 London is, in round numbers, 30,000." This, allowing 
 its population to be what he states, namely, 2,000,000, 
 gives only 1 death to about 6Q inhabitants. The number 
 
WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 189 
 
 afford, nor has the brain of man conceived, 
 more villanous mixtures than are constantly 
 sold at the groceries and dram-shops of this 
 city. Nay, for the matter of that, the ho- 
 tels themselves are not much better. They 
 purchase the liquors of the grocers — it may 
 be the more respectable ones. But it is a part 
 of the modern grocer's business to adulterate 
 his liquors : and what he sellsunder the name 
 of Cogniac, Jamaica, or Port, has as small a 
 mixture of either of those liquors as can well 
 be imagined. 
 
 The drinker pours into his stomach a vile 
 compound, which, with its deleterious proper- 
 ties, tends to hasten the legitimate effect of 
 alcohol, when taken to excess — namely, 
 death ! He has not, in his last agonies, even 
 the poor consolation of having got gloriously 
 drunk, and lived and died glorious, on " good 
 liquor." Such vile compounds, as are usually 
 
 of deaths in New York, during the year 1836, was 8009. 
 Th© year before it was 7092. The average of these tw© 
 years gives about 7550 : or 1 death to about 40 inhabitants. 
 
190 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 
 
 to be found, both at table and bar, no man of 
 sound sense or good taste will ever drink. 
 
 The temperance society has effected some- 
 thing, in this city, in the way of banishing 
 ardent spirits. But this is mostly in private 
 families ; where wine, as well as spirits, has 
 been turned out of doors. In these families, 
 neither was lised to excess ; and therefore its 
 present banishment has effected no change of 
 very great importance. It possibly may have 
 prevented some temperate drinkers from be- 
 coming intemperate ones ; and if so, then has 
 the effect been beneficial. But it can scarce- 
 ly be considered a rational deed, for one man 
 to abstain entirely from any comfort or enjoy- 
 ment, merely because another man abuses it. 
 Else should A abstain from the use of speech, 
 because B is a blackguard, L a liar, and P a 
 profane fellow. 
 
 Some individuals, as well as families, 
 have been cured of the sin of moderate drink- 
 ing. They have " signed off," and therefore 
 are bound, under their hand, not to drink ; or 
 they are religiously scrupulous on the subject, 
 
WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 191 
 
 and therefore abstain from drink, as a matter 
 of conscience ; or they have come to the re- 
 solution to let it alone, because they know it 
 to be injurious to their pocket, and believe it 
 may prove detrimental to their health, and 
 perhaps to life itself. But some of this class 
 have carried their reformation so far as to 
 eschew, in like manner, tea, coffee, chocolate, 
 fine wheat bread, butter, cheese, roast beef, 
 mutton chop, and all kinds of animal food. 
 Some of these last remarkable abstinents— 
 who supposed they had discovered the elixir 
 vitae—the secret of perpetual youth and 
 health— and of living when all their friends 
 were dead— have since, poor fellows ! become 
 
 food /or worms : and their system of living 
 
 commonly called Grahamism, from the Rev. 
 Sylvester Graham, who first taught it here, 
 five or six years ago— is now, we believe, very 
 much fallen into disrepute. 
 
 The cure of immoderate drinkers, here, 
 as elsewhere, has seldom been achieved ; and 
 in the reformation of moderate drinkers far 
 less has been effected than in country towns. 
 
192 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 
 
 The fear of public opinion, which influenc- 
 es so many in the country, and especially in 
 a village, has very little effect here. The 
 population here is too numerous for every 
 man to oversee his neighbor ; to observe 
 what he is about ; and to report proceedings 
 to the leading and influential members 
 of the community. Here most persons — 
 office-seekers excepted, — do as they please ; 
 and eat and drink what they please, or what 
 they can get ; holding themselves amenable 
 to the law only, and caring very little about 
 their neighbor's opinion. 
 
 In speaking of other liquids besides water — 
 whereof the number used as beverage is 
 pretty large — we must not forget tea, 
 coffee, wine, and beer. There are feWf or 
 no families in New York, where the former 
 are not drunk, such as they are ; the coffee 
 in the morning and the tea at night. It is 
 not so easy spoiling the latter by any process 
 of making; and therefore it is, in general, quite 
 possible to drink it. We cannot say as much 
 for the liquid called coffee. It is, in most 
 
WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 193 
 
 cases, triply ruined : first, in the burning, 
 secondly, in the boiling ; and finally in the 
 mixture therewith, of that very doubtfial liquid 
 denominated milk. 
 
 Wine in New York is better ; and, if we 
 except that compound called Port, is the best 
 liquor in the city. The Madeira is very 
 fine ; as even those most grumbling and fas- 
 tidious of guests — the British journalists — * 
 acknowledge. The author of '' Men and 
 Manners" ascribes this to the wine being 
 placed " in the attics, where it is exposed 
 to the whole fervor of the summer's heat and 
 severity of the winter's cold," instead of being 
 kept, as in England,"in a subterraneous vault.'^ 
 
 The Claret in New York is also good. So 
 are the Sherry and the Champagne. Of the 
 latter and of Madeira large quanities are 
 drunk. The sound-headed old wine-drinkers 
 prefer the Madeira ; the dashing young 
 blades choose Champagne. Whether it is, 
 that their heads will bear it better ; or that 
 they can expend upon it more money at a 
 17 
 
194 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 
 
 sitting ; or that they can have it to say, they 
 drank so many bottles ; or, lastly, that, it is 
 more agreeable to their natures, because it 
 contains more wind : which of these reasons, 
 or whether they all, operate in producing the 
 effect ; certain it is, that the younger gentry 
 of this city — do, occasionally, pour down 
 amazing quantities of Champagne. How 
 often they are cheated by a substitution of bot- 
 tled cider, it matters not to say. The remark 
 of Othello, 
 
 " He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen, 
 Let him not know it, and he's not robbed at all," 
 
 is as true in regard to this same substitu- 
 tion as to that of any cheatery we know 
 of. As long as the wine-bibber fancies 
 himself to be drinking Champagne, it is all the 
 same to him — except the headache which 
 follows — that being about fift}^ per cent 
 less. Exchange is truly no robbery here, 
 except in the matter of the headache ; which 
 were it not for the name of the thing, might 
 as well be omitted altogether, in the plea- 
 sures of drinking Champagne. 
 
WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 195 
 
 As last, but not the least agreeable among 
 our vinous liquors, may be mentioned the 
 fine cider that comes from the orchards of 
 New Jersey. That state has been long 
 famous for her manufacture of good cider, and 
 the dinner-tables of the most sensible citizens 
 of New York, give very sparkling, and agree- 
 able evidence that the fame of our neighbor 
 across the Bay is founded injustice and good 
 taste. 
 
 The last beverage we shall touch upon is 
 beer ; a liquid we very seldom touch at all, and 
 should not do so now, except for the purpose 
 of the present work. This liquid — under the 
 names of porter and ale — is much drunk in 
 this city ; especially in the cold season. Small 
 beer is not unfrequently substituted in the 
 summer. 
 
 The taste for the strong article, is on the 
 increase. The number of Bonifaces who 
 make it their meat, drink, and lodging, is al- 
 ready very great. Some have abandoned ar- 
 dent spirits, and taken to beer. And some, 
 having at first taken to beer have taken to lit- 
 
196 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 
 
 tie else, from that day to this. They grow 
 fat upon it ; and it will soon be as common to 
 see burly Americans, as burly Englishmen. 
 Others drink beer moderately, taking only an 
 occasional glass, to strengthen the outer, and 
 revive the inner man. On the whole, the love 
 of beer, so far as we are able to discover, is, 
 of the two, a lesser evil than the love of ardent 
 ^spirits. If it puts the toper asleep — as it is 
 very apt to do — so much the better : he will 
 jjot drink any more until he wakes again. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 
 
 No one can be twenty-four hours in New York without 
 hearing the alarm of fire. — Hamilton. 
 
 The crackling flames appear on high ; 
 And driving sparkles dance along the sky. 
 
 Dryden's Virgil. 
 
 Fire ! fire ! fire ! Turn out ! turn out ! 
 
 EvERY-DAY Cry. 
 
 Among the novelties of New York, there is 
 nothing perhaps which strikes a stranger with 
 more surprise than the frequency of fires. 
 There is scarcely a day from January to July, 
 and from July to January, when there is not 
 an alarm— a cry of fire—and a ringing of 
 bells. But a single alarm, for each day in the 
 year, would be too low an average. To say 
 the bells are rung and the firemen called out, 
 five hundred times in the three hundred 
 17* 
 
198 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 
 
 and sixty-five days, would not exceed the 
 truth. 
 
 Some of these numerous alarms, in-' 
 deed, are false ; and others are raised 
 for very trivial causes. The boys vi^ill some- 
 times set up a cry of fire out of mere mischief, 
 or for the pleasure of running after, or help- 
 ing to drag, the engines. Other alarms are 
 raised from the burning of a foul chimney, 
 where no injury is done or likely to be done. 
 Others again arise from the actual catching 
 fire of some building ; which, however, taken 
 in the commencement, is extinguished with a 
 bucket of water. 
 
 But after making all due allowances, the 
 number of alarms, founded on good and suf- 
 ficient cause, is astonishingly great. Many 
 of the fires, though small, and capable of be- 
 ing extinguished with very little water, never- 
 theless require the aid of an engine, because 
 they are so situated that they cannot be 
 reached with bucket in hand. For these, a 
 single engine will suffice. Others, having 
 made greater progress, require two, or more 
 
FIRES AND FIREMEN. 199 
 
 engines. While others — owing to the rapid 
 spread of the flames, the height of the build- 
 ings, the narrowness of the streets, or other 
 causes favoring the conflagration — demand 
 the aid of all the firemen, with all their means 
 of arresting the mischief. 
 
 Such was the great fire in Ann Street, on 
 the 4th of August, 1835; and such, above 
 all, was that most disastrous one, on the 
 16th of December, of the same year. In the 
 first of these, the difiiculty of extinguishing 
 the flames, arose principally from the exceed- 
 ing height of many of the buildings ; which, 
 being elevated to six stories, defied the force 
 of the most powerful engines to reach them 
 effectually ; at least to convey water to the 
 upper stories in such quantity as should not 
 rather excite the flames, than extinguish them. 
 
 The progress of the Great Fire, of the 
 16th of December, was owing to several caus- 
 es, which had never before occurred in com- 
 bination, and are not likely again to meet for a 
 long time to come. The mischief first com- 
 menced in a high building, in a narrow street. 
 
200 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 
 
 But the firemen were on the ground, with 
 their usual alacrity, and before the flames 
 had made any very extensive progress. But 
 their engines were out of order; and this 
 was the first great cause of the succeeding 
 disaster. On the morning previous, they had 
 been employed at a large fire ; and the weath- 
 er being excessively cold, there was much ice 
 collected in the hose, and the pipes : so that 
 very little water could be received or deliver- 
 ed by them ; and that little not with sufficient 
 force, to have much eff"ect on a large fire and 
 a high building. 
 
 While the flames were fast getting ahead, 
 owing to the condition of the engines, these 
 were continually getting worse and worse, 
 in consequence of the increasing seventy of 
 the weather ; until at length they became, in 
 a great measure, useless ; and nearly all ef- 
 fort to arrest the flames by their means, was 
 abandoned. The firemen, unable to be of 
 service in their proper capacity, were employ*- 
 ed in saving goods and merchandize from the 
 stores which were next to be burnt. 
 
FIRES AND EIREMEN. 201 
 
 But even these efforts in many instances, 
 availed not. The goods, though supposed at 
 first to be removed out of the reach of harm, 
 not being carried, as it turned out, to a suffi- 
 cient distance, were finally destroyed by the 
 flames ; and all the labor of their removal — in 
 some instances twice over — was utterly thrown 
 away. 
 
 The first great cause of the progress of the 
 fire, as we have hinted, was the unfortunate 
 condition of the engines. But when it had 
 once got the power into its own hands, it seem- 
 ed to deride the vain efforts of man ; to 
 *' laugh at his calamity, and mock when his 
 fear came." Never was there a more striking 
 illustration of the truth of the latter clause 
 of that saying, which, having pronounced fire 
 to be " a good servant," also declares it to be 
 " a hard master." On that occasion it master- 
 ed all opposition. Contrary to the course 
 of ordinary fires, it seemed to pay no regard 
 to the winds, but ran as well agiiinst them, as 
 along with them. It spread east, west, north, 
 and south at the same time.. While one dj- 
 
202 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 
 
 vision of its flames, was marching towards the 
 East River, another was proceeding towards 
 Broad-street, another to Wall, and so on. 
 
 People on all sides were in the utmost con- 
 sternation. Terror and dismay sat on every 
 face. Despair was in all men's words and 
 actions. A species of insanity, in many in- 
 stances, prevailed. Costly and valuable arti- 
 cles were destroyed, to save them from the 
 flames ! One man — a military character, and 
 now a hero in Texas — proposed to blow up 
 the City Hall, standing alone in the Park, to 
 stop the progress of the flames below Wall- 
 street, at half a mile's distance ! 
 
 Gunpowder was finally employed, and pro- 
 bably with some advantage. Several stores 
 were blown up, in the neighborhood of the 
 fire, so as to occasion a vacancy in the line of 
 buildings where the flames were progressing. 
 The efiect of the powder on these stores was 
 very surprising, to those who had never seen 
 a similar explosion. Instead of the fragments 
 being blown upwards, and all around to a 
 great distance, as people expected ; the en- 
 
FIRES AND FIREMEN 203 
 
 tire buildings, on the powder being fired, set- 
 tled quietly down into their own cellars ; and 
 the spectators, who had run from the danger, 
 found they had been frightened without any 
 cause. 
 
 The blowing up of these stores, as we 
 have said, had probably some effect in ar- 
 resting the progress of the fire ; particularly 
 towards Broad street. A bound was put to 
 it in Wall street, by great exertions in keep- 
 ing constantly wet such of the exposed parts 
 of the buildings, on the upper side of that 
 street, as were combustible. While to the 
 east, it was only arrested by the river itself. 
 
 Some persons, however, were puzzled to 
 understand why the fire, on the whole, ceased 
 to rage so soon as it did ; they were rather 
 disposed to ascribe it to the mere weariness 
 and exhaustion of that element. If so, it had 
 abundant reason to be satisfied with its exer- 
 tions ; having destroyed, in its whole progress, 
 654 stores, shops, houses, and public build- 
 ings — including that expensive edifice, the 
 Merchants' Exchange, in which was the Post 
 
104 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 
 
 Office, and the fine statue of Hamilton by 
 Chantry. 
 
 During the progress of this fire, the blacks 
 proved that they could be grateful for exer- 
 tions made in favor of their oppressed race, 
 A large number of them ran to the store of 
 Arthur Tappan — a leading abolitionist — and 
 exerted themselves faithfully, until his valuable 
 stock of goods was completely rescued from 
 the flames, and conveyed to a place of safety* 
 
 The amount of property, real, and personal, 
 destroyed at this fire, was estimated — after a 
 careful examination by a committee appointed 
 for that purpose — at the round sum of 
 $17,000,000. The loss at the fire in Ann 
 street was computed at nearly $1,000,000. 
 Other fires, during that year, of which the 
 number was large and the result disastrous, 
 are supposed to have raised the whole amount, 
 for the twelve months, to very near twenty 
 millions of dollars. 
 
 We have hinted at the surprise of strangers 
 at the frequent cries of fire in this city. They 
 are very often alarmed too, as well as sur- 
 
FIRES AND FIREMEN 205 
 
 prised; and fancy from the hideous outcry of 
 the boys and the rueful jangling of the bells, 
 that the fire is close to, if not within their 
 very lodgings ; and that New York is, every 
 day, on the veyy verge of a general confla- 
 gration. 
 
 To this alarm, the bells very much, per- 
 haps needlessly, contribute. As soon as an 
 alarm of fire is given, they fall to ringing in 
 all quarters, with great zeal and force; and 
 some of them continue their clamor for a con- 
 siderable time after the danger is past ; or 
 after the alarm is ascertained to be a false 
 one. The first in the field, the most vigorous 
 in action, and the last to quit, is the bell of 
 the Middle Dutch Church. Who the ringer 
 of that bell is, we know not ; but this we will 
 aver, that he labors with a zeal and perseve- 
 rance that are quite astounding. We fancy 
 he, now and then, gets up in his sleep to ex- 
 ercise his vocation. At any rate, whether 
 asleep or awake, he seems to have a remarka- 
 ble fondness for pulling at the end of a rope. 
 18 
 
206 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 
 
 The number of fire companies in New York, 
 of all kinds, is 64. Of these, 49 are engine 
 companies ; 9, hook-and-ladder ; and the 
 remaining 6, hose. Each of these consists of 
 26 men, which is the requisite number to 
 form a full company. In addition to these, 
 they are permitted to accept of the services of 
 volunteers ; who, however, are not entitled to 
 any of the privileges belonging to the regular 
 firemen. All they can claim, is the pleasure 
 of turning out at every cry of fire ; and aiding 
 to draw and work the engines. 
 
 The regular firemen, as a remuneration for 
 all their toils, dangers, loss of sleep, exposure 
 to heat, cold, and wet, and various expenses 
 in the service of the public, for the space of 
 seven years, are exempted from military, and 
 from jury, duty ; not only during those seven 
 years, but for the rest of their lives. This 
 exemption, of course, is only available as long 
 as they continue inhabitants of the State of 
 New York ; other states not being bound to 
 the fulfilment of obligations contracted by 
 their sister state. 
 
FIRES AND FIREMEN. 207 
 
 This is but a small compensation for all 
 their toil and exposure ; to say nothing of the 
 great loss of time, which can scarcely be con- 
 sidered of less value than $100 per annum 
 to each fireman ; amounting to $700 during 
 the seven years. With so inconsiderable an 
 offset for all their exertions, there must surely 
 be much of public spirit in the young men 
 composing the fire companies, to induce them 
 to enter upon, and persevere in this arduous 
 public duty. 
 
 That there is among them much of the 
 esprit du corps, is very certain : some pretty 
 strong proofs of it having been given last 
 year, when James Gulick, their popular Chief 
 Engineer, was removed from office by the 
 Common Council, and Mr. Riker, appointed 
 in his stead. They were engaged at a large 
 fire, when news of this change was brought 
 them : and touched with anger, or disgust, 
 or both, they suddenly abandoned their en- 
 gines, and following their leader, gave up a 
 valuable block of buildings to the flames ; nor 
 could they be induced to return, until Mr. 
 
208 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 
 
 Gulick, at the instance of the mayor, intreat- 
 ed them to resume their duties, and himself 
 led them back to extinguish the flames. 
 
 Having done this, they resigned by whole 
 companies ; and New York was, for several 
 weeks, in a very exposed situation, for want 
 of an efficient fire department. 
 
 But the ex-firemen did not suffer the heat 
 of their resentment to cool, with the bare act 
 of resignation. On the contrary, they carried 
 the war into the enemy's camp — i. e. the 
 camp of the party to which the common 
 council belonged. At the fall election, they 
 organized a strong band ; and, since they 
 could not have Gulick for Chief Engineer of 
 the fire department, they determined he 
 should be Register of the city and county of 
 New York. They were indefatigable in pro- 
 curing him votes ; and the result was, that he 
 was raised to the office of Register, by a very 
 large majority ; and that in opposition to a 
 party which had almost invariably kept the 
 rule of the city, for many years. In the 
 
FIRES AND FIREMEN. 209 
 
 room of an office worth $1,200, of which the 
 corporation deprived him, he was elevated to 
 one worth $20,000. 
 
 The fire companies are composed of young 
 men mostly between the ages of 20 and 30. 
 They are clerks and mechanics ; but a ma- 
 jority of the latter. Their alacrity in turning 
 out at every alarm of fire, is very remarkable ; 
 and the ambition of the different companies to 
 be first on the ground and to exert themselves 
 most strenuously when there, induces to the 
 most efficient operations. 
 
 Exerting themselves so much for the pub- 
 lic good with so little compensation, they fancy 
 they have some claims to select their chief en- 
 gineer ; and though by the law, the appoint- 
 ment lies with the common council, the fire- 
 men think their views and feelings might at 
 least be consulted by the members of that 
 honorable body. Perhaps it were a matter, no 
 less of policy than of courtesy, to do so : more 
 especially, as such vast interests and such im- 
 portant consequences depend upon the cheer- 
 18* 
 
210 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 
 
 ful activity and cordial exertions of the fire- 
 men, in discharge of their almost thankless 
 duty. 
 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 PUBLIC SQUARES. 
 
 Together let us beat this ample field, 
 
 Try what the open what the covert yield. — Pope. 
 
 The number of public squares, in New York, 
 we believe does not much exceed ten. And, 
 as the number is remarkably small, so, in the 
 case of several of them, is the size remarka- 
 bly contracted. The first settlers, when land 
 was abundant and cheap, seem never to have 
 dreamed of setting aside any for the sole use, 
 behoof, and comfort of the citizens in general. 
 And since land began to grow scarce and 
 dear, it has been accounted too valuable to be 
 thrown open, in any great quantity, to the 
 public use. 
 
 To do our corporation justice, however, 
 they have provided some noble squares — at 
 least what we must call noble, in this cis-At- 
 
212 PUBLIC SQUARES. 
 
 lantic country, where, certain European wri- 
 ters say, every thing degenerates, and appears 
 comparatively on a small scale. Whether it 
 is on this principle of degeneracy, that our 
 Park is so contracted an affair in comparison 
 with St. James's, in London : and that our 
 other public squares are so inferior to those of 
 that great metropolis; we shall not pretend to 
 decide. But happy are we to say — nay, thrice 
 happy — that, in this land-speculating age, we 
 have any public squares, whatever, to set our 
 feet upon. Why, the temptation to sell them 
 is so great, that we marvel exceedingly that 
 the fathers of the city have not, ere this, cut 
 the Park and Battery into building lots and 
 set them to sale at the auction room of 
 Bleecker and Sons. 
 
 The whole space of ground occupied by 
 the public squar.^sof ^ ew York, may be about 
 60 acres. The Park and Battery contain, 
 each, somewhat more than 10 acres. Wash- 
 ington Square, Tompkins Square, and 
 Stuyvesant Square, have, each, probably 
 about the same amount. These are the 
 
PUBLIC SQUARES. 213 
 
 largest. Other petty patches of ground, de- 
 nominated squares, contain, some, one acre, 
 some a half, and some a fourth of an acre. 
 
 These squares are of all manner of shapes, 
 except that of a figure having four equal sides 
 and four right angles. In other words, though 
 called squares by courtesy, they are, in fact, 
 no squares at all. Some of them are oblong 
 rectangles, as the Washington Square, the 
 Tompkins Square, and so forth. Others are 
 triangles, as the Park, and some minor pieces. 
 While the Bowling Green is an elipsis ; and 
 the Battery, very much in the shape of a 
 quarter section of the rim of a modern hat. 
 
 The Bowling Green was formerly an ob- 
 long square ; and previous to the revolution 
 was called " the parade." There stood the 
 statue of his most gracious majesty, George 
 II., which the people, at the commencement 
 of the revolution, dragged through the streets ; 
 and finally converted its leaden materials into 
 bullets, to be shot at the soldiers of his 
 .grandson and successor, George III. 
 
 A large part of the ground, where the Bat- 
 
214 PUBLIC SQUARES. 
 
 tery now is, originally belonged to the do- 
 mains of old Neptune ; and, not many years 
 since, boats used to ply and the finny 
 tribes swim, where now trees grow and hu- 
 man feet tread. 
 
 This is the most delightful public ground in 
 the city — perhaps in any city of the United 
 States. It is agrc eably laid out and diversifi- 
 ed, with plots of grass, and gravel walks ; 
 beautified and rendered shady and pleasant, by 
 the weeping willow, the elm, the sycamore, 
 and other trees. Seats are also provided for 
 the weary, or for those who wish to lounge 
 and look abroad leisurely over the spacious 
 bay, the neighboring islands, and the shores 
 of New Jersey. It is perfectly delightful, 
 
 "The world forgetting, by the world forgot," 
 
 To take a station on the Battery, of a 
 summer afternoon, and watch the vessels of 
 all kinds, as they glide by, from the light skiff 
 to the enormous steamboat, and from the fish- 
 ing smack with its single sail, to the merchant 
 ship with its thousand yards of canvass. It is 
 charming to witne^ss so busy a scene of life, 
 
PUBLIC SQUARES. 215 
 
 and commerce, and pleasure, on the quiet 
 bosom of the waves. It is pleasant to hear, 
 from the water, the sailor's merry "Yo ! 
 heave O !" as he hoists the sail or heaves the 
 anchor. Even the playing of a porpus, or 
 the floating of a bit of wood, or a straw, on 
 the wave, affords agreeable pastime, on a plea- 
 sant summer's day ; when the mind is at 
 ease ; when the dinner has been good ; and 
 when the notes are all paid, and " some- 
 thing over." 
 
 It is a pleasant sight, of a Sunday, after the 
 last church, and just at the approach of sun- 
 set, to behold the crowds of people on the 
 Battery ; crowds of both sexes and every age, 
 but more particularly the young and light- 
 hearted ; all hi their Sunday's best ; gay in 
 heart, clean in person, and decent in attire. 
 There walks the bonnie lad and his more bon- 
 nie lassie. There walks the mother with her 
 children. And there walk the industrious 
 classes, who, escaped from the busy toils of 
 the week, seize upon this only hour of recre- 
 ation. 
 
216 PUBLIC SQUARES. 
 
 This is emphatically the people^s ground 
 Debarred, as the great body of them are, 
 from many of the pleasures and comforts of 
 life enjoyed by the wealthy ; and especially 
 confined to narrow limits in their houses ; 
 they are glad to escape, once a week, from 
 their crowded quarters and the unwholesome 
 air of their apartments, to stretch their cramp- 
 ed limbs, and to breathe freely the delightful 
 air of the Battery, where they are placed on 
 a footing of equality with the richest of their 
 neighbors. 
 
 But pleasant as it is, to the just and well- 
 disposed, thus to behold the people enjoying 
 themselves and taking their share of a com- 
 mon benefit, there are persons who seem to 
 grudge them this share, even though it be 
 claimed but once a week. They would, if it 
 were in their power, banish them from the 
 public walks. They are particularly offended 
 that the common people should presume to 
 appear on that delightful promenade, the Bat- 
 tery. " It is so very vulgar," say these aris- 
 tocrats, " to be seen walking in the same 
 
PUBLIC SQUARES. 217 
 
 grounds with mechanics, house-servants, and 
 laboring people !" And so, because the mass 
 of our citizens have the good sense and good 
 taste to be as happy as their circumstances will 
 admit ; a few persons, actuated by a silly 
 pride, exclude themselves from an enjoyment 
 from which they have not the power to ex- 
 clude others. 
 
 That charming promenade, called St. John's 
 Park, appears to be as exclusive as the most 
 fastidious could desire. Belonging, we be- 
 lieve, to certain persons connected with St. 
 John's Church, its gates are entirely closed 
 to the public ; and only open to the proprie- 
 tors, their families, and their particular friends. 
 The Bowling Green, with its shady trees — 
 and its beautiful verdure, is still more exclu- 
 sive than St. Johns' Park ; for it not only 
 excludes the rabble, but every body else. 
 
 As for the newer squares, they appear as 
 yet no better than mere vacant lots : being 
 vacant, indeed, of every thing that is attrac- 
 tive ; and destitute alike of every living vege- 
 table, whether tree, shrub, grass, or flower. 
 19 
 
218 PUBLIC SQUARES. 
 
 But these promenades are new ; and doubt- 
 less, in twenty years from this time, with due 
 care and attention, will be very agreeable 
 places of resort. 
 
 The chief militar}' parade ground is Wash- 
 ington Square, in front of that fine Gothic 
 structure, the University of New York. There 
 the militia of this great city display their skill 
 in arms. There the volunteer companies ex- 
 hibit their fine uniforms, their full equipments, 
 and their knowledge in the art o^ pacific war. 
 There also the "slabs," in their dresses of all 
 sorts, with their arms and accoutrements of 
 all kinds, are dragged on muster days, to 
 share the glory of the volunteers. 
 
 But military tactics are not confined to 
 Washington Square. The Park is at all 
 times • a parade ground, whether for small 
 squads or large ones ; whether for volunteers 
 or " slabs." The Battery is more exclusive : 
 being merely used, as a parade, on some grand 
 anniversary occasion, or other great public 
 display. Lafayette was received there, in 
 1824, with military honor ; so was General 
 
PUBLIC SQUARES. « 219 
 
 Jackson, in 1833. when the bridge from Cas- 
 tle Garden broke under the weight of glory 
 that pressed upon it, both in the person of the 
 venerable chief, and in that of his now suc- 
 cessor to the Presidential chair. Indeed the 
 Battery is the place where all great men from 
 abroad are received, whether with military, 
 or any other species of public display. 
 
 It is there also that the 4th of July is princi- 
 pally glorified. There floats the American ban- 
 ner, with its thirteen stripes and twenty-six stars, 
 on astaff an hundred feet high. There the great 
 guns are fired, at sunrise, at noon, and at the de-\ 
 cline of day. And there troops of men and 
 women, of girls and boys, stand, the whole 
 day through, in crowds, to behold the troops 
 of the military and listen to the sharp voice of 
 the musketry, and the deep tone of the can- 
 non. 
 
 The Battery, as we have said before, is 
 emphatically the people's ground. And 
 though no man is allowed, in a civil and 
 peaceable manner, to stretch himself on the 
 grass " underneath the sheltering shade of the 
 
220 PUBLIC SQUARES. 
 
 umbrageous trees ;" but is immediately dis- 
 turbed in his meditations by some Battery po- 
 liceman who bids him instantly get up, lest he 
 should rumple the grass ; nevertheless the 
 soldiery, who are of the people and from the 
 people, are at least once every ^ear allowed 
 the privilege of riding over, trampling down, 
 and utterly treading up, all the small herbage 
 which, at great expense and labor, have been 
 induced to take root there during the twelve 
 previous months. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 
 
 Lo ! all in silence, all in order stand, 
 
 And mighty folios first, a lordly band ; 
 
 Then quartos their well-ordered ranks maintain ; 
 
 And light octavos fill a spacious plain: 
 
 See yonder ranged in more frequented rows, 
 
 A humbler band of duodecimos ; 
 
 While undistinguished trifles swell the scene. 
 
 The last new play and frittered magazine. — Crabbe. 
 
 The citizens of New York have evidently 
 not forgotten that " knowledge is power," as 
 any man may convince himself, who will 
 take the trouble to glance at the various li- 
 braries in this city. We do not speak of pri- 
 vate collections of books, nor of those owned 
 by particular individuals and loaned out for 
 the public use, denominated circulating libra- 
 ries. We shall only take notice of some of 
 the principal collections belonging to public 
 associations, 
 
 19* 
 
222 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 
 
 The first of these in point of age, as well 
 as in number of volumes, is the New York 
 Society Library. It was founded while we 
 were yet in the colonial state, and 21 years 
 before the commencement of the revolution, 
 namely, in 1754. It began with about 700 vol- 
 umes. The price of a share was $12,50, sub- 
 ject to an annual tax of $1,50. In 1792, 
 during the administration of Governor Tryon, 
 the society was incorporated. It was just 
 beginning to flourish — to increase in numbers 
 and to add to its stock of books — when the 
 war broke out ; and while the British had 
 possession of New York, the principal part of 
 the books were scattered or destroyed. The 
 project, however, was revived soon after the 
 peace ; and the library is now among the 
 most valuable in the character, as well as 
 number of its books, to be found in the United 
 States. It contains more than 25,000 vol- 
 umes. The price of a share is now $25, and 
 the annual tax ,^4. 
 
 The next, in number of volumes, is the 
 clerk's library, a collection belonging to the 
 
PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 223 
 
 merchants' clerks, united together under the 
 name of the Mercantile Library Association. 
 This library was founded in the year 1821, 
 by the union of a few clerks who thought 
 they could devote their leisure hours more 
 profitably, if not more agreeably, to books 
 than to the theatres, ball rooms, and other 
 fashionable amusements. They began by 
 uniting their own little collections with such 
 books as they could get together by way of 
 donation. Thus a few hundred volumes 
 were collected, which have since been increas- 
 ing in number, chiefly by means of the sub- 
 scriptions of members and by an annual tax, 
 until they now amount to more than 13,500 : 
 enabling the Mercantile Library to rank as 
 the tenth, in point of numbers in the United 
 States. 
 
 The increase in 1836, was 1845 volumes ; 
 and the number of members added during the 
 same year was 867. The whole number of 
 members is now about 3,500. The initiation 
 fee is $1 ; and the annual tax $2, payable by 
 quarterly instalments of 50 cents each. To 
 
224 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 
 
 the library is added a reading room, furnished 
 with all the most valuable periodical literature 
 of the day. 
 
 Merchants are allowed all the privileges of 
 the library and the reading room, by paying 
 an annual subscription of $5. And so far 
 they are considered members but they are not 
 allowed the privilege of voting. 
 
 The sole management of the concern be- 
 longs to the clerks ; who, not far from the 
 first of January, elect their officers for each 
 year, and hear the report of those entrusted 
 with the rule for the year preceding. 
 
 About the time of the election, there is 
 usually a good deal of stir among the clerks, 
 and no little show of party spirit. The con- 
 tending factions publish their respective nomi- 
 nations in the newspapers, and electioneer 
 with a warmth, a spirit and vigor, which 
 might excite the envy of much older poli- 
 ticians. 
 
 The principal point of dispute between them 
 is, generally, in relation to the character of 
 the books which shall be purchased : one party 
 
PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 225 
 
 accusing the other of a design to exclude all 
 the attractions of romance ; and the other 
 party retorting the accusation. 
 
 But these charges, we are told, are got up 
 on each side chiefly for electioneering purpo- 
 ses ; and that there is in reality little differ- 
 ence of opinion between the parties as. to the 
 character of the books which shall be added 
 to the library. A large majority, on both 
 sides, we are informed are in favor of a "con- 
 siderable sprinkling" of works of fiction : and 
 though the most valuable scientific and literary 
 works constitute the solid dishes and the prin- 
 cipal repast of the readers, nevertheless very 
 few of them would be satisfied without a des- 
 sert composed of lighter materials. 
 
 But whatever the motive, real or apparent, 
 which annually excites so much warmth and 
 gives such vigor to the electioneering spirit, 
 no sooner are the officers chosen for the year,' 
 than all party animosity is buried in the more 
 important concern of advancing the interests 
 of the association and increasing the library, 
 both in the value of its works and the number 
 
226 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 
 
 of its volumes. Having exercised the invalua- 
 ble right of suffrage ; and having either beaten 
 their opponents, or acknowledged themselves 
 beaten ; the members of the different parties, 
 leaving the management of affairs to "the 
 powers that be," go home and quietly read 
 their books, and trouble their heads no more 
 with the excitements of party matters, until 
 the next annual election. 
 
 Connected with the association of clerks is 
 the Clinton Hall Association— a corporate 
 body, composed of some of the first mer- 
 chants in the city, united for the laudable pur- 
 pose of aiding the clerks in their efforts for 
 intellectual improvement. Clinton Hall, in 
 which are the library, reading, and lecture^ 
 rooms, is the property of this association ; and, 
 besides the use of these rooms being granted 
 rent free, the income of the stores and such 
 other parts of the building as are let out on 
 rent, all goes to the Mercantile Library, to in- 
 crease its stock of books. This source — as 
 soon as some arrears of expense for building 
 are paid — will, we are assured, amount to lit- 
 
PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 227 
 
 tie less than $5000 ; which, with the income 
 from subscription and assessments of members, 
 will give to the Mercantile Library Associa- 
 tion an income of more than $10,000 a year; 
 all of which, laid out in books, will cause 
 their collection to increase more rapidly than 
 perhaps any other library in the United 
 States. 
 
 Next to the Mercantile Library in number 
 of volumes, and not inferior to it in point of 
 usefulness, is the Apprentices Library. It 
 was founded in the year 1820, and has now 
 upwards of 12,000 volumes. This library is 
 the property of the General Society of Me- 
 chanics and Tradesmen, a benevolent associ- 
 ation formed in 1784, thirty-six years before 
 the establishment of the library. The initia- 
 tion fee, for members of this society, is $10 ; 
 and $12 more, paid in four annual instalments 
 of $3 each — or $20, paid in the beginning — 
 constitutes a man a life member. 
 
 The books of this library are loaned to me- 
 chanics' apprentices — for whose use alone it 
 is intended — free of all expense ; their mas- 
 
228 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 
 
 ters engaging to become responsible for the 
 safe return of the books. Nothing could be 
 more noble and generous than this provision 
 of the mechanics and tradesmens' society. Of 
 all persons in the world, apprentices are apt 
 to be the most destitute of books, when left to 
 their own resources. How great then the 
 importance — how benevolent the object — of 
 an institution, which provides a remedy for 
 so great a want. 
 
 Apprentices are inclined to read — at least a 
 large proportion of them are so — if the means 
 are furnished them : as any one may be con- 
 vinced, who will step into their library of an 
 evening (the only time it is open) ; where he 
 will behold the pleasing sight of hundreds of 
 boys, from 12 years old and upwards, in hum- 
 ble apparel, but all eager to obtain books, and 
 warm in their desires for intellectual improve- 
 ment. 
 
 There are several other public libraries in 
 this city, the largest of which is that belong- 
 ing to the New York Historical Society, 
 founded in 1809, and containing upwards of 
 
PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 229 
 
 10,000 volumes. That of the American In- 
 stitute, established in 1828, contains about 
 3,000 volumes; and that of the Law Institute, 
 founded in the same year, upwards of 2,000. 
 
 The Mechanics' Institute, founded in 1831, 
 has a library of about 1,200 volumes. One 
 work, belonging to this collection, cost $800. 
 It is Denon's great work on Egypt, consisting 
 of 24 large folio volumes, illustrated with a 
 great number of very expensive engravings. 
 The other works belonging to this library are 
 mostly valuable scientific and literary works, 
 particularly calculated for the association to 
 which they belong. This institute has an an- 
 nual course of lectures, on various subjects 
 connected with improvement in science and 
 the mechanic arts. 
 
 These are the principal public libraries in 
 New York ; and are all of exceeding value 
 and importance, both in the materials of 
 which they are composed and the objects 
 to which they are devoted. But in this latter 
 respect — as will be gathered from what we 
 
 have said above — there are none of them that 
 20 
 
230 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 
 
 we think of such high importance as those of 
 
 the apprentices and the clerks : inasmuch as 
 
 these afford reading and improvement to those 
 
 who could not well obtain them by other 
 
 means; besides furnishing an inducement to 
 
 the avoidance of evil company, and to the 
 
 cultivation of habits of correct thought and' 
 useful study. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 HOAXES. 
 
 This world is all a fleeting show, 
 For man's illusion given. — Moore. 
 
 The citizens of New York possess, in com- 
 mon with those of other cities and with the 
 world in general, a pretty large portion of 
 that species of intellectual weakness called 
 hoaxability. People of all sorts and in all 
 countries, from ancient down to modern times, 
 seem to have invited deception — to have 
 given it a hearty welcome — to have been fond 
 of it, as of their daily food. 
 
 Some hoaxes — if we may so call that par- 
 ticular species of deception — have been played 
 off, from good motives and for useful purposes. 
 Such was that of Numa Pompilius, the wise 
 and good king of Rome, in relation to his pre- 
 tended intercourse with the goddess Egeria ; 
 
232 HOAXES. 
 
 whereby he greatly softened the rude natures, 
 improved the morals, and polished the man- 
 ners of his semi-barbarous subjects. Other 
 lawgivers, in the first institutions of society, 
 have also practiced deceptions, as well fdr the 
 benefit, as for the more convenient manage- 
 ment, of the people : pretending to derive 
 their information and their authority directly 
 from heaven. 
 
 For a like purpose of governing the popu- 
 lace, but not always with equally commend- 
 able motives, the priests have played off their 
 hoaxes,not only among the pagans of antiquity, 
 but likewise among the christians of more 
 modern times. Hence the pretended miracles 
 and prodigies with which the world has been 
 filled, and the multitude deceived and led astray. 
 
 Hoaxes, as we have them in very modern 
 times, are the result of diiTerent motives. Some 
 of them are practiced for the purpose of good- 
 natured sport, or innocent deception ; but far 
 the larger number are got up for the purpose 
 of making money — of picking the pockets of 
 the credulous. Such, for the most part, are 
 
HOAXES. 233 
 
 all the notable inventions of quack medicines 
 the "drops," the "pills," the ''balms," the 
 "balsams," and the thousand "infallible 
 specifics," with which the world is filled ; and 
 such are the puffs, and advertisements, and 
 certificates of cures, with which they are re- 
 (Commended to the public. 
 
 A great city affords a very rich field for the 
 lioaxer's harvest. There are abundant mate- 
 rials to be wrought upon. Folly, credulity, 
 and ignorance are rife. The hoaxability is 
 catching. And, provided it be skilfully and 
 prudently managed, will continue to prevail 
 very much in proportion to the number and 
 density of the population. 
 
 The chief hoaxes that have for some years 
 been played, in New York— and the only ones 
 deserving of particular notice— are the great 
 Joice Heth hoax and the great Moon hoax. 
 These were both " brought out," as they say 
 of a new piece at the theatre and a new miss 
 in good society — in the summer of 1835. 
 
 The inventor of the Joice Heth affair was, 
 originally, a Connecticut Yankee. He first 
 20* 
 
234 HOAXES. 
 
 taught a school ; but finding that not suffici- 
 ently agreeable, or not sufficiently lucrative, 
 he next turned his attention to law, which he 
 practiced for a while in the interior of this 
 state. Not finding the law, any more than 
 teaching, quite suited to his peculiar genius 
 and taste, he resolved to bring himself before 
 the people in a more imposing light. He saw 
 that the multitude were ignorant and gullible, 
 fondof rare sights, and marvellous exhibitions 
 Hereon he laid his plan. 
 
 Finding, very fortunately, in one of the 
 slave-holding states, a miserable piece of frail 
 mortality, in the shape of an old female negro, 
 who had been blind and bedridden for many 
 years ; he purchased, or by some means took 
 her off the hands of her owner, or of the pub- 
 lic, to whom she had long been a burden. 
 
 But miserable and worthless as she was, for 
 all the valuable purposes of life, old Joice 
 was the very thing her new proprietor wanted. 
 A hale young negro would not have suited 
 his design. It was not only requisite that she 
 should be withered and old ; but that her age 
 
HOAXES. 235 
 
 should appear to have surpassed that of any 
 person since the days of the patriarchs. To 
 favor this part of the hoax, her bodily appear- 
 ance and infirmities were excellently fitted. 
 Her nails were especially calculated to pro- 
 mote the deception ; having, through her 
 long- blindness and infirmity, not been pared 
 for many years, until they had grown out to 
 the length and shape of eagles' claws. 
 
 A hundred and sixty years, and upwards, 
 were fixed upon to constitute her age. But 
 a piece of African mortality, even of that ex- 
 cessive age, would excite comparatively little 
 interest, unless some other extraordinary cir- 
 cumstance should be connected with her his- 
 tory. And here the ingenuity of the inventor 
 was exhibited in a remarkable degree, in con- 
 necting the name of Washington with that of 
 old Joice Heth. To make her the nurse of 
 George Washington, was the ne plus ultra of 
 skilful invention. What ! to have carried in 
 her arms and nourished at her breast the fa- 
 ther of his country, the idol and the glory of 
 the American people ! She was, indeed, 
 
236 HOAXES. 
 
 somewhat old for a nurse — being nearly sixty 
 when Washington was born. But that was 
 not to be helped, for two very good reasons : 
 in the first place, nothing less than one hun^- 
 dred and sixty years would do for her age ; 
 and in the second, no other man's nurse would 
 carry with her such a halo of glory as the 
 nurse of Washington. Besides a discrepancy 
 — an anachronism — of twenty or thirty years 
 is nothing, in cooking up a great hoax — - 
 where the very magnitude of the whole de^ 
 ception prevents people from scanning very 
 minutely its several parts. 
 
 Being so well provided for, in personal ap^ 
 pearance, in age, and in honorable connec- 
 tions ; the next and the only remaining re- 
 quisite, to make a proper heroine out of the 
 miserable old Joice, was to furnish her with a 
 due stock of piety. It would not do for the 
 nurse of George Washington to be less than 
 pious — and very eminently and devoutly so. 
 She was therefore made a member of the 
 church ; not indeed of the Episcopal and fa- 
 vorite church of Washington — but of the 
 
HOAXES. ' 237 
 
 Baptist — which having more members than 
 any other in the United States, it was thought 
 would turn out the most projfitable. 
 
 The only remaining requisite now was. to 
 prepare vouchers as to the genuine age of old 
 Joice : and to instruct her properly in all the 
 lessons ofdeception, piety and church-member- 
 ship included. This was a somewhat difficult 
 task : for Joice was old, stupid, obstinate, and 
 hard to learn. She had, besides, a dreadful 
 habit of swearing, which militated very much 
 against her piety. It was with great difficulty 
 she could be cured of this profane habit; 
 which was inclined every now and then, to 
 break out long after her character for piety 
 was established, and required the utmost at- 
 tention of her keepers properly to restrain and 
 hold in due subjection. 
 
 After much instruction and many rehear- 
 sals, old Joice was at length prepared for ex- 
 hibition. The pulse of the public, we believe, 
 was first felt at Cincinnati. Finding it beat 
 well for the project in that distant extremity, 
 the inventor drew nearer to the heart. He 
 
238 HOAXES. 
 
 tried Philadelphia. There he began to be as- 
 tonished at his own success. The manufac- 
 tured certificates were published, and every 
 body believed in their genuineness ; for who 
 could doubt a long list of certificates, signed 
 — actually signed — with men's names ? The 
 newspapers were hoaxed, and in their turn 
 helped to hoax the public. 
 
 The fame of old Joice Heth — the pious 
 Joice — the almost antedeluvian Joice — the 
 nurse of Washington himself — quickly reached 
 New York. People were all agog to behold 
 so wonderful a sight. They were all eager to 
 partake of so very delicate a dish — cooked up 
 with such amazing skill to suit the popular 
 palate. In due time they were gratified. New 
 York was too large and too rich a field not to 
 be made the principal scene of the grand de- 
 ception. 
 
 Arrived here, the miserable piece of bed- 
 ridden mortality was visited by all classes. 
 The papers were filled with her excessive age, 
 her devout piety, her interesting connection 
 with the family of Washington. Old Joice 
 
HOAXES. 239 
 
 Heth was in every body's mouth. They 
 talked for a while of nothing else. The 
 Italian opera^the theatre in general — even 
 the weather itself — was forgotten. The first 
 question was, "Have you seen Joice Heth?" 
 If the reply were no, then came the rejoinder, 
 *' What ! not seen Joice Heth 1 I wonder at 
 you. Every body goes to see old Joice."— 
 " Do you believe she is so very old as they rep- 
 resent V — " Oh, yes, I hav'nt the least doubt 
 in the world of it. And then she's so very 
 pious, you can't think !" 
 
 After plucking the pigeons well in this city, 
 the proprietor of old Joice carried his exhibi- 
 tion eastward. Boston and some of the minor 
 cities of New England were gratified with the 
 sight ; and to do justice to their taste, intelli- 
 gence and gullibility, they swallowed the hoax 
 with as much apparent relish as the good city 
 of New York. 
 
 But it is not our business to follow old Joice 
 and her spiritual father, manufacturer, and 
 exhibitor through all their movements. Suf- 
 fice it to say, they returned to New York, as 
 
240 HOAXES. 
 
 the great central station, strong hold, and most 
 profitable scene of gullibility. Here they 
 flourished again, with nearly as much vigor as 
 before. 
 
 But, alas ! for the instability of all human 
 things ! A negro, one hundred and sixty 
 years old, could not live always. Death, who 
 had so long held his hand, was now standing 
 near and aiming his dart at poor old Joice. 
 Quite needless, one would think, to bring any 
 weapons with him to take away the small re- 
 mains of her miserable life. 
 
 However, there death was ; and the pro- 
 prietor began to be mightily alarmed for the 
 stability of his gains. Had she only lived a 
 couple of summers more, he would have been 
 willing to part with her. He implored her to 
 live for his sake. He thought it was very un- 
 fair on her part — nay, it was " pesky" un- 
 grateful — after all the pains he had taken in 
 teaching her, polishing her, making her pious, 
 and adding seventy years to her age — that she 
 should desert him after this fashion. He 
 moreover did his best, by careful nursing and 
 
HOAXES. 241 
 
 keeping her warm, to make her winter over ; 
 in hopes that if she could only see the warm 
 spring again, she would flourish for one more 
 summer at least. 
 
 But it was not in the power of human 
 means to preserve the wretched invalid. The 
 last spark of life went out : and old Joice 
 Heth, who had made so much noise for one 
 little year, was nothing but a corpse. 
 
 Here, it might have been expected, the ex- 
 hibition would end. But, with an economy 
 deserving the highest admiration, the proprie- 
 tor resolved, that, though dead, silent, and 
 cold, Joice should yet figure to some purpose. 
 The doctors were called in, and a public dis- 
 section took place, to which the people—the 
 still unsatisfied people—were admitted in 
 crowds, by paying a fee. And here ended 
 the profits and the hoax together. 
 
 An account was published, in the papers of 
 the appearances, of the body of old Joice on 
 dissection ; by which appearances it was in- 
 ferred that she was not above half as old as 
 she had been represented : a conclusion to 
 21 
 
242 HOAXES. 
 
 which the public — at least a part of it — had 
 arrived, sometime before her death. And as 
 the number of doubters was every day increas- 
 ing, it is probable the poor old creature did 
 not die any too soon, for her own quiet, or the 
 peace, the interest, and the security of her 
 exhibitor : for though the people are wonder- 
 fully fond of being gulled, they are apt to be 
 greatly enraged, if they find out the decep- 
 tion ; and will sometimes proceed to take 
 summary vengeance on their deceivers. 
 
 It now remains for us to say something of 
 the other great hoax, for which the summer 
 of '35 was remarkable. Perhaps we ought 
 to beg pardon of the ingenious author of the 
 " Moon Story," for placing it in the same 
 chapter with the above villanous deception. 
 There is no resemblance between them, ex- 
 cept in name — the one as well as the other — 
 the innocent fiction of the discoveries in the 
 moon, as well the pickpocket deception of 
 the withered old negress, having been charac- 
 terized as a hoax. 
 
 The account of the great lunar discoveries. 
 
HOAXES. 243 
 
 written by Richard Adams Locke— now 
 editor of the New Era — first appeared in the 
 Sun. It purported to be taken from an 
 English periodical, to which it had been 
 communicated by a friend of Sir John F. W. 
 Herschell, the great astromoner, by whom the 
 discoveries were represented to have been 
 made, at the Cape of Good Hope. And 
 herein consisted the hoax. Without the use 
 of a veritable name, and that of a man well 
 known as a distinguished astronomer, the de- 
 ception could not have succeeded to any 
 remarkable extent ; and those, who at first 
 believed the account, could not justly say, on 
 finding out their mistake, that they had been 
 hoaxed. 
 
 The diameter of Sir John's telescope ap- 
 peared to the reader surprisingly large. But 
 then they recollected how great was the size 
 of the telescope of Dr. William Herschell, 
 even in the last century. They remembered 
 how George HI., a stout man, was said to 
 have travelled through that instrument, from 
 one end to the other. They bore in mind the 
 
244 HOAXES. 
 
 wonderful changes and improvements, since 
 the last century. If a very great king — it 
 v^'as naturally argued — could walk, with very 
 little stooping, through the telescope of Dr. 
 William Herschell, in the 18th century : it 
 was not at all surprising that the telescope of 
 Sir John Herschell, in the nineteenth, should 
 be of sufficient diameter for six tall men to 
 stand up in it, erect, upon one another's 
 heads. 
 
 Another thing, which also appeared quite 
 surprising, was the minuteness with which the 
 animals, the plants, and even the quality of 
 the minerals, was described. But when they 
 recollected the wonderful magnitude and 
 power of Sir John's telescope, all difficulties 
 in regard to minuteness of discovery van- 
 ished. 
 
 The most startling thing of the whole was 
 the winged people. Nothing like them had 
 been seen on the earth. But that, they 
 argued, was no rule for the moon. Mankind 
 might as well be provided with wings uj) there^ 
 as birds, and bats, and insects, with wings 
 
HOAXES. 245 
 
 down here' The moon, said they, was a sep- 
 arate government — independent in its modes 
 of life and its fashions of things — and was no 
 more obliged to resemble this ball of earth, 
 in the make of its inhabitants, than this ball 
 of earth was to resemble the moon in the 
 same point. 
 
 The winged people, therefore, being swal- 
 lowed, there remained no obstacle to the be- 
 lief of the entire discoveries. The credulity 
 was general. All New York rang with the won- 
 derful discoveries of Sir John Herschell. 
 Every body read the Sun, and every body 
 commented on its surprising contents. There 
 were, indeed, a few sceptics ; but to venture 
 to express a doubt of the genuineness of the 
 great lunar discoveries, was considered almost 
 as heinous a sin as to question the truth of 
 revelation. 
 
 Nor Was it only among the populace in 
 
 general, that the moon story was believed. 
 
 Certain of the sixpenny editors also gave into 
 
 it, and copied the account, with flaming no- 
 
 21* 
 
246 HOAXES. 
 
 tices of the very wonderful and important dis- 
 cov^eries of Sir John Herschell, at the Cape 
 of Good Hope. The papers in this city, 
 which were thus caught, were the Daily Ad- 
 vertiser and the Mercantile Advertiser. 
 The Daily Advertiser of Newark, and the 
 Daily Gazette of Albany, were also among 
 the ready believers of the great discoveries. 
 How many papers, in other places, swallowed 
 the hoax, we do not know. Most of the edi- 
 tors, we believe, prudently kept their minds 
 suspended as to the truth or falsehood of the 
 account ; though most of them copied it, as a 
 capital story, whether it should turn out true 
 or false. 
 
 The sensation, among the people of New 
 York, during the publication of the great lu- 
 nar discoveries — which occupied something 
 like a week — was wonderful. They not only 
 bought the papers, read them, and treasured 
 up their contents, but they likewise readily 
 paid twenty-five cents for a wood-cut, repre- 
 senting the winged people, and other striking 
 objects in the moon. 
 
HOAXES. 247 
 
 This hoax, as we have said, could hardly 
 have succeeded to any extent, had it not been 
 backed with the name of Sir John Herschell, 
 accompanied with the known circumstance of 
 his location at the Cape of Good Hope. But 
 it must be confessed that the story is managed 
 with remarkable skill ; and told with a gravity 
 of countenance and a versimilitude, worthy of 
 Dean Swift himself. 
 
 Many persons upon discovering that they 
 had been deceived, were outrageously angry 
 with the author and the publisher of the story. 
 Such a villanous hoax, they said, ought to be 
 severely punished ; the Sun office ought to be 
 mobbed ; the moon story burnt by the com- 
 mon hangman ; and the wicked deceivers 
 suspended on the gibbet of everlasting indig- 
 nation. But men of more sense and taste 
 enjoyed the story with great relish ; and con- 
 sidered it the very best romance they had read 
 for many a year. Some persons, however, 
 continued a long time to believe in the truth 
 of the discoveries ; and even to this day have 
 not, so far as we know, .entirely abandoned 
 their faith. 
 
CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 
 
 Take this at least, this last advice, my son : 
 Keep a stiff rein, and move but gently on. 
 
 Translation of Ovid. 
 
 Smack went the whip, round went the wheels. — Cowper. 
 
 Who it was, that first invented wheel car- 
 riages, we do not recollect ever having read ; 
 or if we have, we have forgotten. Phoebus, 
 we learn, in very early times was a famous 
 whip. He drove the chariot of the sun, and 
 we suppose is driving it still. His son Phae- 
 ton, emulous of his father's glory, insisted 
 upon trying his hand at the reins. He pre- 
 tended, indeed, to doubt, whether he was his 
 father's own son ; and would not be con- 
 vinced unless Phcebus, as a proof of his father- 
 ly affection, would promise to grant him what- 
 ever he should ask. Phoebus made the pro- 
 
HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 249 
 
 mise, and, to render it more binding, swore 
 by Sfyx — a terrible oath, which the gods them- 
 selves dare not violate. But as soon as his 
 son informed him of the nature of his request, 
 Phoebus repented of his lash promise. He 
 tried to persuade him to ask something less 
 dangerous than driving his horses. He told 
 him that even Jove himself could'nt managfe 
 such a team. But the youth persisted ; and 
 the unhappy father, by reason of his oath, 
 was obliged to comply. 
 
 He undertook, in the best manner he could, 
 to instruct his son in the proper management 
 of his team. He pointed out to him the 
 proper road. It was on that occasion, if we 
 may believe master Ovid, that he made that 
 prudent, non-committal speech, so often 
 quoted : 
 
 medio tutissimus ibis ; 
 
 Which, with the context, is thus translated by 
 Addison : 
 
 The horses hoofs a beaten track will show: 
 But neither mount too high, nor sink too low. 
 
250 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 
 
 That no new fjres or heaven or earth infest, 
 Keep the mid way : the middle way is best. 
 
 Thus instructed, the youth mounted the 
 chariot, seized the reins, and dashed away. 
 At first he thought it fine sport to drive his 
 father's horses. But in a little time he had 
 occasion to repent of his undertaking. It was 
 not so easy an affair as he had supposed. He 
 soon began to get into difficulty. He forgot 
 his parent's instructions, and drove any where 
 but in the " middle way." Now he went too 
 high ; then again too low. By the first mis- 
 take he played the mischief with the stars : by 
 the second he set fire to the earth : by which, 
 among other direful effects, he burnt all the 
 people of Africa black ; which color they 
 have retained ever since. 
 
 Jupiter, seeing the earth all in a blaze, seized 
 a thunderbolt, and hurling itatthe unfortunate 
 Phaeton, struck him from his chariot, and 
 laid him dead on the spot : a solemn warning 
 to all ambitious young men, to beware of peri- 
 lous enterprises ; and above all not to under- 
 
HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 251 
 
 take to drive a spirited team of horses, until 
 they have first learned how. 
 
 Jehu the son of Nimshi, who made himself 
 king of Israel, was a famous coachman. At 
 least he drove furiously, and, so far as we know, 
 without upsetting. Achilles, the Grecian hero, 
 was also a remarkable whip ; of which he 
 gave a most unworthy proof, when he drag- 
 ged at his chariot, the body of poor Hector, in 
 sight of his own father and mother : 
 
 Proud on his car the insulting victor stood, 
 And bore aloft his arms distilling blood. 
 He smites the steeds ; the rapid chariot flies ; 
 The sudden clouds of circling dust arise. 
 
 Other great men, who have succeeded 
 wonderfully in leading, driving, and govern- 
 ing men, have felt a strong desire to try their 
 hand at managing a team of horses. Such 
 was the ambition of Oliver Cromwell ; and 
 such that of Napoleon. Each, as their bio- 
 graphers inform us, undertook to drive, four 
 in hand ; and each, upsetting his carriage and 
 being thrown from the box, came very near 
 losing his life. Which proves, that managing 
 
252 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 
 
 horses, and managing men, are two things ; 
 and that a very skilful general may make a very 
 awkward coachman. 
 
 How ill soever some of these have succeed- 
 ed, that must surely be an honorable employ- 
 ment, in which generals, kings, and gods have 
 delighted to try their hands. Ladies have 
 also been emulous — and some of them are 
 still emulous — of the glorious deeds of your 
 renowned whips. They are fond of lifting 
 the lash, of shaking the reins, and of manag- 
 ing their own steeds. And it must be con- 
 fessed, they have succeeded quite as well as 
 either Cromwell or Napoleon. 
 
 The use of hackney coaches is compara- 
 tively, of recent date. So late as the time 
 of Dr. Johnson, who died in 1784, there 
 "were in London as he somewhere states, 
 not above ten of these carriages. Now, ac- 
 cording to a recent work, it appears that 
 there are about 600. 
 
 The first hack, started in New York, as we 
 are informed, was in the year 1792, by Ga- 
 
HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 253 
 
 briel W. Alston. Whereabouts he kept his 
 stand, or how many coaches he had, we do 
 not know. 
 
 The number of hackney coaches in New 
 York, at the present time, is upwards of 200 : 
 a number twice as great, in proportion to the 
 population, as that of London. These coaches 
 are taxed $5 each for their yearly license, 
 besides a dollar for the coachman. The 
 prices for carrying passengers, as fixed by law, 
 are : for any distance, not exceeding a mile, 
 37^ cents ; and for each additional passeno-er 
 25 cents. For any distance over one mile 
 and not exceeding two the fare is 50 cents; and 
 for each additional passenger 25 cents. For 
 children between two and fourteen years of 
 age, the price is 50 per cent less. For a car- 
 riage to Harlem, and back, with the privilege 
 of remaining three hours, the price is $4 ; to 
 King's Bridge, remaining all day, $5. The 
 price per day for a hack, driven in any direc- 
 tion, is $5. In each of these last cases, the 
 fare is the same, whether there be a single 
 passenger, or whether the coach be full. -For 
 22 
 
254 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 
 
 attending a funeral within the lamp and watch 
 district, the price is $2 ; to Potter's Field, $3, 
 
 The above include the principal rates of 
 fare, as fixed by law ; though there are some 
 others for different distances, not here named ; 
 but which the reader may find, with other 
 useful information in the Strangei's City Guide, 
 published by Disturnell, price three shillings. 
 
 It is common enough to say of such and 
 such a person, " he is an honest man, well 
 looUd after:' So it may be said, in general, 
 of the hackney coachmen, they are honest 
 fellows, as the world goes ; but they require 
 close— very close— looking after. Not that 
 they will pick your pocket, or steal your bag- 
 gage. They will only charge you twice or 
 thrice as much fare as the law allows. For 
 carrying you a mile, price three shillings, they 
 will only charge you a dollar ; and possibly, 
 in a clear, dull day, content themselves with 
 seventy five cents. And so on, for greater 
 
 distances. 
 
 If you undertake to make a bargain with 
 them; they are almost sure to ask you more 
 
HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 255 
 
 than the legal price ; taking it for granted, of 
 course, that you are ignorant of the rates. 
 The better way, if you want a carriage, is to 
 jump into the best looking one — attached to 
 the best horses — with the soberest driver you 
 can conveniently find. Bid him drive where- 
 ever you wish to go ; and, when you alight, 
 say nothing about the fare, but merely offer 
 him what the law allows. If he will not take 
 it, concern yourself no further about him. 
 But if it is not convenient for you to tender 
 him the precise fee, and he gives you the 
 wrong change, take the number of his carriage 
 and go at once to the Police Office, where 
 justice will be speedily done you. 
 
 The penalty for a hackney coachman de- 
 manding more than the legal rates, is the for- 
 feiture of his whole fare, and a fine of $10. 
 The fine is the same for refusing — when he is 
 not otherwise engaged — to carry a passenger 
 any where on the island of New York — the 
 legal fee being tendered. 
 
 Every passenger is entitled to have carried 
 with him, free of expense, one trunk, valise, 
 
256 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 
 
 carpet-bag, portmanteau, box, basket, or 
 bundle ; but, for every additional article of 
 the like kind, he must pay sixpence, if not 
 exceeding a mile ; and a shilling, if over that 
 distance. 
 
 Rainy days are the harvest times for the 
 hackmen. They eye the clouds with as 
 much anxiety as so many ducks ; and rejoice, 
 like them, in a long and copious shower. 
 Nothing is so dull — nothing so discouraging 
 to them — as a melancholy time of fair weather. 
 No class of persons in this city — not even 
 those who are paid for it in the pulpit — it is 
 believed, pray so often and so devoutly for 
 rain as the hackney coachmen.* 
 
 It is remarked by English journalists, that 
 
 * We ought perhaps to except the Umbrella makers ; 
 whose gains are still more dependent on falling weather, 
 than those of the hackmen. We copy, from a city news^ 
 paper, the following : 
 
 UMBRELLA MAKERS' PRAYER. 
 
 O thou, who mak'st all trades thy care, 
 
 And guard'st them every hour, 
 Come, listen to our humble prayer, 
 
 And grant the frequent shower. 
 
HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 257 
 
 our hacks and horses are much superior to 
 those in London. The coaches are well 
 enough ; and, indeed, for the most part 
 handsome, and in excellent repair. The 
 horses are also, in general, very fair, for hacks. 
 They are much improved within a few years. 
 They are handsomer, more spirited, and bet- 
 ter fed. Not longer ago than 1830, it used 
 to be waggishly said of the hack horses, that 
 they were "fed on flour barrels, and the 
 
 We ask no golden streams to cast 
 
 Their riches on our shore ; 
 Mere drops of water — faUing fast — 
 
 Are all that we implore. 
 
 Oft as the gloomy shades of night 
 
 O'erspread our closing eyes, 
 We pray, that with the dawning light, 
 
 Far other shades may rise. 
 
 Our moderate wishes would not grow 
 
 To crave one blessing more, 
 Than we may ask or thou bestow 
 
 From thy unfailing store. 
 
 We would not of our lot complain, 
 
 Nor discontent betray; 
 We only beg thee, let it rain 
 
 But every other day. 
 
 22* 
 
258 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 
 
 hoops showed through the skin." At present 
 they are not, by many degrees, so ostenta- 
 tiously ribbed. 
 
 From hacks we must ascend to omnibuses. 
 We say ascend, because, although fewer steps 
 are required to get into them, they are never- 
 theless, for the most part, superior in magni- 
 tude and in the number of steeds, to the hack- 
 ney coaches. This kind of vehicle first got 
 the name of omnibus in London, and that not 
 much more than a dozen years since. It is a 
 Latin word, signifying to all or with all : and 
 was doubtless given to one of these lumbering 
 coaches, because they are open to all, carry 
 all, and are crowded withal. 
 
 The first New York stage we hear any ac- 
 count of, was started in the year 1732, to run 
 between this city and Boston. It left each of 
 these places only once a month, and took 
 fovrteen days to perform the journey. Such 
 was the rapidity of travelling a hundred and 
 five years ago ! 
 
 The first stage, that ran merely on the 
 island, was started, in the year 1798, by Bar- 
 
HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 259 
 
 nard de Klyne. He ran from Wall street to 
 Greenwich — or " the village" — which was 
 then separate from the settlements on the 
 south part of the island. 
 
 Klyne, so far as we can learn, had but a 
 single carriage, which, in beauty and lightness, 
 very much resembled the stages, or mail wag- 
 gons, which now run irom this city to Long 
 Island. He ran at no particular hour, or 
 hours ; but started whenever he could §et 
 passengers. 
 
 To Klyne, previous to the year 1826, suc- 
 ceeded a large number of other owners. 
 From these frequent changes, we conclude 
 the concern was not so profitable as could be 
 desired. In the latter year succeeded Asa 
 Hall, who made an improvement in his car- 
 riages, by changing the entrance, from the 
 front or side, to the back part. 
 
 Stages were next started in Broadway; the 
 owners of which made improvements over the 
 Greenwich lines, in the size and beauty of 
 their carriages, and in the number of horses. 
 It was not until about the year '30, or '31, 
 
260 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 
 
 that four horses began to be attached to the 
 city stages. 
 
 These conveniences now run to the Bow- 
 ery, to the Dry Dock, and to several other 
 parts of the city. There are, in all the lines 
 that run to and from Wall street, upwards of 
 120 carriages. Besides these, several run 
 from the Bowery to Yorkville, to Harlem, &c. 
 The number of omnibuses in London, is 
 about 400 ; which is a less number than ours 
 in proportion to the population, by about 50 per 
 cent. But then there are, in London, about 
 1200 cabriolets — or cabs, as they are usually 
 called — to which we have nothing answering 
 on this side the Atlantic. 
 
 The four-horse stages pay a licence of $20 ; 
 the two- horse, $10. The fare generally 
 throughout the city is 12 J cents. To Yorkville 
 it is 181 cents; to Harlem and to Manhattan- 
 ville, 25 cents. A deduction of one third is 
 made from these prices, where a dozen, or 
 even half a dozen tickets are purchased at 
 once. The number of persons, who take the 
 benefit of the omnibuses, is believed to aver- 
 
HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 261 
 
 age not less than 25,000 per day, Sundays ex- 
 cepted, when the horses are allowed to rest. 
 
 As these carriages run on certain fixed 
 routes, there is never any occasion for dispute 
 about the price. You give the attendant lad, 
 or the driver, your shilling or your ticket, 
 "and there an end." These stages are of 
 very great convenience — nay, almost of ne- 
 cessity. Accustomed, as people are, to jump 
 into an omnibus whenever they have half a 
 mile, or more, of locomotion to perform, and 
 wish to do it speedily, they would hardly know 
 how to get along, without them. They are par- 
 ticularly convenient for merchants and others 
 doing business in the lower part of the city, 
 and living in the upper part. After staying 
 till three o'clock to settle their money affairs 
 in Wall street, they would be late to dinner, 
 were they obliged to foot it a mile or two ; 
 and most of them would not like to pay from 
 three to four shillings for coach hire. 
 
 The dining hour being from twelve to three, 
 it is between those two periods that the stages 
 *— the homeward bound ones— are most apt 
 
262 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 
 
 to be crowded. Indeed, during the whole 
 space of those three important hours, it is ex- 
 ceedingly difficult to get a seat. You may 
 sometimes stand at the corner of a street, 
 beckoning to all the stages that pass for half 
 an hour, and not one of them has a seat to 
 give you. The best way, on such occasions, 
 is to march leisurely, but steadily on ; and 
 you will probably arrive at your journey's end 
 much sooner than you can get a stage to carry 
 you there, and save your shilling into the 
 bargain. 
 
CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 'Tis done .' — Thomson. 
 
 Dr. Johnson heads his last chapter of Rasselas 
 with " The conclusion, in which nothing* is con- 
 cluded." Now, however strong the tempta- 
 tion to imitate the example of so great a man, 
 we have concluded, that our conclusion shall 
 not be altogether so inconclusive. 
 
 The conclusion, naturally to be drawn from 
 the foregoing pages, is, that New York is a 
 very great city ; a very populous city ; a very 
 expensive city; a very scarce-of- hotels city; a 
 remarkably religious city ; a sadly overrun- 
 with-law-and-physic city ; a surprisingly news- 
 paperial city ; a rather queerly governed city; 
 an uncommon badly watered city ; a very 
 considerable of a rum city; a very full-of-fires 
 city ; a pretty tolerably well-hoaxed city : 
 
264 CONCLUSION. 
 
 and, moreover, a city moderately abounding ini 
 foul streets, rogues, dandies, mobs, and several] 
 other things, concerning which it is not ne- 
 cessary to come to any specific conclusion. 
 
 END 
 
 :) H 155 7B J 
 

 
 
 -P^n^' 
 
 °^. 
 
 
 -T'-, 
 
 
 ,7. 
 
 O 
 
 O « O 
 
 .x^ 
 
 0" 
 
 
 ex .0 «^ ^ • ° 
 
 A- 
 
 
 V 
 
 
 " o ^ -<^ 
 
 o V 
 
 «£■, 
 
 
 %■ 
 
 O. 
 
 5 -« 
 
 A 
 
 .0 ^v. 
 
 ~v 
 
 O 
 
 V 
 
 
 
 A"^ . V*'-:^^... 
 
 ,-0'- 
 
 
 
 Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
 Neutralizing Agent: Magnesium Oxide 
 Treatment Date: 
 
 ,^^M-. WAY ym 
 
 gllaBBUKEEPER 
 
 PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES. L.P. 
 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
 Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
 (724)779-2111 
 
V^O' 
 
 ,-J>' 
 
 
 r 
 
 '4^ 
 
 
 
 
 ?-' 
 
 A 
 
 
 
 ■"o 
 
 V^^ 
 
 
 ^.y 
 
 -^ 
 
 ^. 
 
i-;-^r'p'ri«!trf?%iiiiiiiii 
 
 LIBRARV OF CONGRBSS 
 
 Q00153ba37fi