USA > Connecticut > Fairfield County > Greenwich > Greenwich old & new; a history > Part 6
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Many of the boats were built at Palmer and Duff's ship yard in Cos Cob which was well known along the Sound for turn- ing out splendid ships. Something of the flavor of the period can be gleaned from the names that were displayed upon the bows of the boats of this day. Mianus boasted the "Little Phoebe," the "George and Edgar," the "Adeline"; Cos Cob, the "Plough Boy," the "Tradesman" and the "Fashion," while Horseneck reflected the progressive spirit with the "Locomotive" and the "Telegraph." These same boats were accused of intro- ducing a "rougher element" into the town. Certainly there is no evidence that they were run on any temperance basis.
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It is little wonder that the railroad was late in coming to the shore towns. Naturally the steamship lines and turnpike com- pany opposed the railroad. However, the project was discussed in the Stamford Advocate in 1844 and the following year con- struction was started on the New York & New Haven line. In December, 1848, Hannah Hendrie in a letter to her son John, then a student at Yale, said: "Nothing but railroad cars and California gold are sounding in my ears. Between twelve and one today the old locomotive and establishment passed here for the first time. How far it ventured west I know not, do not think it passed over the landing bridge, many fears are appre- hended as to its strength and durability."
Great excitement prevailed on the day that the first through train passed through Greenwich. Several short runs had been made during the week before Christmas but the 27th of Decem- ber was the big day. The entire town turned out to see it and Philander Button, principal of the Greenwich Academy, de- clared a holiday so that his students might witness the event. It is possible that he and a few other farsighted men realized the importance of the railroad and could visualize to some slight degree the changes it was to bring with it. However, Daniel Merritt Mead in his history fails to include this day in his list of important dates.
The following is a description of the memorable occasion written by Editor Holly of the Stamford Advocate, who evi- dently was much impressed:
"Animals of every description went careering around the fields sniffing the air in terror, and bipeds of every size, condi- tion and color set off at a full run for the railroad depot. In a few minutes the cause of all the commotion appeared in the shape of a locomotive puffing off its steam and screaming with its so-called whistle at a terrible rate. Attached to the locomo- tive were a lumber and a passenger car, and the latter, we be- lieve, is one of the most splendid description now in use in any
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road in the country ... They have not yet commenced running regularly to this place and it is not probable that they will do so until the road is finished to New York, which will probably be about the latter part of the present week or the first of next."
In a later issue he describes the trial trip over the landing bridge:
"The train had to remain at the Cos Cob bridge some three hours for the last rails to be laid over it, and the delay gave ample opportunity to the surrounding people to come in and witness the wonderful feat. The general impression among them seemed to be that the first train that attempted to cross this elevated pass would also be the last. All sorts of old woman's stories to frighten the children had been put in circulation re- garding the safety of this bridge, and many a spectator expected to see our splendid locomotive, elegant car, and confiding at- tendants and passengers plunged into the deeps below.
"Ten minutes before two o'clock, P. M., Mr. Mason, chief engineer of the company, gave the word. 'All ready.' Our prancer was let loose. Every skeptic's heart rose to his mouth. Breathless anxiety pervaded the multitude on each shore. The train moved majestically along and the next minute the western shore received its ponderous weight, and the welkin rang with the shouts of the congregated people."
By January the road was finished and there were actually three trains a day making the round trip to New York.
By 1850 the railroad was double tracked and about a dozen men went to the city every day. Commuting was then a labor- ious business, requiring one hour and twenty minutes to Thirty Second Street and then forty five minutes by stage or horse car to Wall Street. It was no wonder that within two years there appeared a forerunner of the club car. Several men gathered daily in the baggage car to play cards. Their equipment con- sisted of a card table, camp stools, cards and a box of cigars, all of which were left in the custody of the conductor.
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Tickets were bought quarterly or semi-annually, the names of those whose tickets were about to expire being posted in the station. The attendants wore no uniforms and the conductor was in charge of running the train. The cars were dimly lighted, flat topped, poorly ventilated affairs with incredibly uncomfort- able seats. They were heated by wood stoves at either end of the car, which were attended by the brakeman. Each car carried a water boy. It is possible that he was also called on to extin- guish the glowing cinders which were a constant menace.
All was not clear sailing for the new railroad. An engineer ran a train into an open draw bridge at South Norwalk and fifty persons were killed. This led to a law forcing trains to come to a full stop at every draw bridge. This of course applied to the one at Cos Cob and residents of that part of town were addicted to the dangerous practice of leaving the train there instead of at the Greenwich station.
Although the Schuyler frauds brought dark days, neverthe- less the railroad continued to gain in popularity and the meta- morphosis of Greenwich had begun.
RAPID CHANGES
IN THE twenty years prior to the coming of the railroad the town of Greenwich had a gain in population of about 2,000. A great many changes had come, most of them in the village of Horseneck. When Jared Mead opened the "White House" on Rocky Neck, now Steamboat Road, in 1838, it was foredoomed to failure as a summer hotel because of the difficulty in obtain- ing supplies. While vegetables could be purchased from market sloops and there were plenty of fish in the Sound, all fresh water had to be transported from Field Point and the farmers could not be persuaded to part with butter which could be sold in the city for better prices. Meat was also difficult to obtain and the visitors grew tired of a diet of seafood.
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At that time there was not a single market in Horseneck. The center of all business was at Mianus where passengers from the packet boats could take stages for the North and East and from whose docks most of the shipping was done. It boasted two taverns, a grist mill and a general store, the gathering point for the farmers. In 1848 the town was approaching the peak of its prosperity as a farming center. Market wagons brought thousands of bushels of potatoes to the docks at Mianus, Cos Cob and Horseneck to be loaded on sloops for shipment to New York. The West had not yet begun to compete in supplying the city and Greenwich often controlled the price in the potato market. Although grain, hay, vegetables, apples and dairy pro- ducts also found their way to the docks, potatoes were the main crop. There are potato cellars in existence now which date from this period, one of the best examples of which is to be found on Round Island. Potatoes were grown on the Oliver Mead farm on Field Point and the sloops were loaded at this cellar.
When Thaddeus Silleck took over the White House in the spring of 1855, conditions had so completely changed that the renamed Silleck House was no longer isolated and it proved to be very successful. Although Mianus always had more shipping, the business center of the town was shifting to Horseneck and the Greenwich of today was beginning to take shape.
All the lots in the Rocky Neck land development had been sold. Some conception of the amazing increase in actual land values, regardless of its uses, is afforded by the story of that land company. In 1836 the four original lots, which cost the company $3,500, were subdivided into fifty-eight lots which had all been sold by 1850, with the exception of the reserved lot at the very end, for $13,900. The land is now worth many times that amount. Land in 1848, especially that available for farm- ing, was at a premium. The farm whose acres now comprise Rock Ridge was appraised in 1848 at $3,000 more than in
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1870. The land was so productive and the market for produce so good that practically no farming land was for sale.
BOROUGH ESTABLISHED
IN THE year 1854 Horseneck became the borough of Greenwich, thus banishing a name that had long fallen harshly on the ears of the inhabitants. The man most instrumental in establishing this government within the town government was Captain Wil- liam Lyon, retired master of the Lady Lancaster, who at the age of 46 settled down to live on the rewards of the China trade. The captain, a Greenwich boy, having been born in the Lyon homestead close to the state line, left home when he was sixteen and was master of a vessel at twenty four. However, he followed the example of many other Greenwich boys and came home to spend the fortune he had made in foreign fields. In 1850 he purchased the house on Putnam Avenue which was torn down in 1929 to make room for the Pickwick Theatre, and for many years he made it a social center for the town. The captain was influenced in favor of buying the property, which extended from where the Maples Hotel now stands to Green- wich Avenue, largely by the conviction that his view of Long Island Sound would never be obstructed by trees or buildings.
The piazza was on the south side of the house and the cap- tain was prone to sit there watching the white sails of vessels plying up and down the Sound. However, he was considerably irritated by the view of wandering cows, pigs and various other farm animals belonging to his neighbors. Another source of annoyance was the scarcity of sidewalks and their snowbound condition in the winter. Jacob Weed, Augustus Lyon, proprie- tor of the Mansion House, and Solomon Gansy, being of the same mind, met with the captain and at their behest Julius B. Curtis drew up a bill which was presented to the General As- sembly in 1854 providing for the creation of the borough of Greenwich.
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The first meeting of the borough was held on July 10, 1854, in the Town House then at the corner of Maple Avenue and Main Street, now East Putnam Avenue. Captain Lyon was elected warden and Robert Williams Mead was chosen as clerk. Julius Curtis, Philander Button, Lewis Howe, Postmaster Sam- uel Close, Alvan Mead and J. D. Steel were elected burgesses.
The boundaries of the original borough were described in the act as follows: "Beginning at a point in the highway leading from the Connecticut Turnpike to William Mead's dwelling- house, ten rods north from the dwelling house of Darius Mead and in the center of said highway, thence running a westerly course until it strikes the north-east corner of the barn belong- ing to James W. Dominick, thence a south-west course until it strikes the north-west corner of Thomas Hancock's house, thence in a southerly direction until it strikes a point thirty rods due west from the barn of Thomas A. Mead, situate on the said Connecticut Turnpike, thence easterly until it strikes a point fifteen rods due south of the dwelling house of Silas M. Mead, thence north-east until it strikes a point twenty rods due east of the dwelling house of Philander Button, thence north- erly until it reaches a point due east of the dwelling house of Darius Mead, and thence to the point first described."
These lines are of course impossible to trace at the present time, but roughly the boundaries extended from Glenville Road on the north to Put's Hill on the east, where were the farms of Philander Button and Dr. Mason; south to the north line of the Havemeyer school grounds, then Merwin Mead's farm, and west to Colonel Thomas Mead's hill, and including his "Dear- fields."
The charter provided for the laying out and maintenance of "highways, streets, public walks and grounds" and that the borough should make no alteration in "the road leading from the Connecticut Turnpike by the house of Silas M. Mead, and thence to the steamboat wharf," which is now Greenwich Ave-
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nue, until the town widened it to a width of three rods. It gave the borough power to make laws relative to planting trees, pre- serving the borough from fire, providing a watch, burying the dead, providing public lights, the restraining of horses, cattle, mules, sheep, swine, geese and poultry, and providing penalties for the breach of the laws. As the borough grew in population the limits were extended and the charter constantly amended.
In 1850 Greenwich Avenue was a country lane, eighteen feet wide, sloping steeply between wide stone walls and with prac- tically no trees to shade the crops growing on either side. Al- though there was a path to Steamboat Road, Arch Street was the real continuation of the avenue and led to the station. There were no sidewalks and in wet weather the mud made walking extremely unpleasant. Pedestrians were forced to clamber over the walls and walk in the fields.
The condition of the streets was not in the least pleasing to Henry M. Benedict, a young man who had but recently come here to live and who traveled back and forth to the city every day. Mr. Benedict could sit on the piazza of his home adjoining Captain Lyon's and watch the train cross the Cos Cob bridge. He would then drive to the station at a smart clip behind his team of fine black horses, and arrive there just as the train pulled in. The bad road considerably hampered him and when his efforts to persuade the selectmen to widen it failed, he ap- pealed to the county court. In 1854 the improvement was ac- complished and the name changed to Greenwich Avenue. Trees were set out and the upper end of the street began to show signs of activity. Until now it had been considered a side street and when Captain Lyon offered Henry Held his Greenwich Avenue frontage for $1800, to be taken out in meat, his offer was rejected as ridiculous. By 1857 things had changed and there were a number of business buildings. Edwin Mead sub- divided his land north of Elm Street and sold the lots of three- fourths of an acre each for the extravagant price of $600.
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In 1854 John Dayton had paid $500 for a site on the east side of Greenwich Avenue close to Main Street and built the first business building. Dayton's shoe store occupied the first floor and Daniel Mead's law office the second floor. This enter. prise was quickly followed by others and there were soon two butcher shops, a cabinet maker, a carpenter shop, an insurance office, two lawyers' offices, a general store and a so-called saloon selling "oysters and ice cream in season" and where by going around to the basement door one could buy good West India rum "over the barrel." These with two general stores, a con- fectioner, a shoe store, a tailor, a milliner and three hotels, all on Main Street, comprised the business district of the borough. John Henderson on Main Street sold "crystal pure ice" and coal could be purchased from E. Husted at the Merritt dock. The Scofield blacksmith shop was near the present site of the First Presbyterian Church across the street from the Mansion House, and the post office was at the corner of Main Street and Sherwood Place, then Mechanic Street.
A new school had just been built on Mechanic Street and there were several private schools, the Academy being the most flourishing. Lewis Howe, a graduate of Yale, conducted a school one door west of the Congregational Church and Mrs. Hess ran a school on Mechanic Street for very small children. Those de- siring a musical education could attend classes at the home of Professor Melville on Greenwich Avenue. Later in the century Dr. Pinneo conducted a school for boys on the corner of Green- wich Avenue and Elm Street. It is interesting to note that dur- ing his residence here Dr. Pinneo wrote many of the famous McGuffy Readers. The Town House, built in 1836, occupying the triangle where the Soldiers' and Sailors' monument now stands, shared this important corner with the Greenwich Acad- emy and the Congregational Church. The outlying districts were of course given over to farms.
East Port Chester in 1857 is described by Daniel Merritt
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was the occasion for impassioned speeches and demonstrations on either side. The many parades were turbulent, dangerous affairs, sometimes almost approaching riots, the marchers and spectators alike being in constant danger from the crude coal oil torches and fire balls which were hurled about. Bands played and the houses blazed with the light of many candles. Thus the householder displayed his political sympathies. Added zest was contributed by the patronage which was doubtless given the one hundred saloons which existed in the town.
After the declaration of war, the extreme feeling subsided somewhat but in the following summer the Governor felt it necessary to issue a proclamation with the purpose of putting a stop to the frequent peace demonstrations and "seditious lan- guage" and "a traitorous press, which excuses or justifies the rebellion." This followed an attack by the volunteers on the offices of the Bridgeport Farmer, a paper then of much influence here.
In Old Greenwich, at the corner of Tomac Avenue and Shore Road, a flag was raised by Cornelius Ford in celebration of each Union victory. It was repeatedly torn down by "copper heads" and finally its owner was forced to produce his gun and threaten to shoot the next man who touched the flag. Needless to say he had no more trouble.
Another instance of the strong feeling was of a less humorous nature. Albert and William Hyde, the sons of the Rev. William Hyde, pastor of the First Congregational Church, marched away in the fall of 1861 as corporals in the Sixth Regiment, Connecticut Volunteer Infantry. Mr. Hyde had been the min- ister in Old Greenwich since 1854 and the church records show him to have been a particularly zealous man in devoting his energies to the spiritual and temporal life of the community. He must have been loved because ten years was a long incum- bency in a town so exacting in its church life. From the date of his sons' enlistment in the Union army things were made in-
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creasingly difficult for him, until finally in 1864, even though the congregation, with but one dissenting vote, expressed their entire satisfaction with his services, he was dismissed by the society.
Enlistments took place in a building on Greenwich Avenue just below Main Street. Fife and drum music fired many a young man with a desire to join up. The spot was a favorite one for small boys, many of whom tried to enlist as drummer boys. The troop trains which passed through with flags flying and regimental numbers displayed added to the general excite- ment.
On September 25, 1862, the First Company marched to the Second Congregational Church. Dr. Joel H. Linsley offered a prayer, and a sword was presented to Daniel Merritt Mead, the young captain, after which the company entrained for Hartford.
While many Greenwich men fought in other regiments and distinguished themselves on many battlefields, Company One was the special pride of the town. The soldiers were very young, the average age being twenty one and the captain only twenty- seven. There were twelve pairs of brothers and in three cases father and son marched side by side.
The women formed a branch of the sanitary commission and were very zealous in the preparation of bandages and in send- ing boxes of necessities to the front.
Naturally great anxiety was felt for the absent men and after every battle the casualty lists were scanned for familiar names. It was a sad day when Daniel Mead, then major, was brought home dying from typhoid fever and the great flag at the foot of Lafayette Place hung at halfstaff. The death of this twenty- eight year old lawyer, historian and soldier was a great loss and was keenly felt.
By October, 1862, the town was faced with a serious prob- lem in filling its military quota, because most of the men with- out family responsibility had left with the First Company, which
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was the occasion for impassioned speeches and demonstrations on either side. The many parades were turbulent, dangerous affairs, sometimes almost approaching riots, the marchers and spectators alike being in constant danger from the crude coal oil torches and fire balls which were hurled about. Bands played and the houses blazed with the light of many candles. Thus the householder displayed his political sympathies. Added zest was contributed by the patronage which was doubtless given the one hundred saloons which existed in the town.
After the declaration of war, the extreme feeling subsided somewhat but in the following summer the Governor felt it necessary to issue a proclamation with the purpose of putting a stop to the frequent peace demonstrations and "seditious lan- guage" and "a traitorous press, which excuses or justifies the rebellion." This followed an attack by the volunteers on the offices of the Bridgeport Farmer, a paper then of much influence here.
In Old Greenwich, at the corner of Tomac Avenue and Shore Road, a flag was raised by Cornelius Ford in celebration of each Union victory. It was repeatedly torn down by "copper heads" and finally its owner was forced to produce his gun and threaten to shoot the next man who touched the flag. Needless to say he had no more trouble.
Another instance of the strong feeling was of a less humorous nature. Albert and William Hyde, the sons of the Rev. William Hyde, pastor of the First Congregational Church, marched away in the fall of 1861 as corporals in the Sixth Regiment, Connecticut Volunteer Infantry. Mr. Hyde had been the min- ister in Old Greenwich since 1854 and the church records show him to have been a particularly zealous man in devoting his energies to the spiritual and temporal life of the community. He must have been loved because ten years was a long incum- bency in a town so exacting in its church life. From the date of his sons' enlistment in the Union army things were made in-
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creasingly difficult for him, until finally in 1864, even though the congregation, with but one dissenting vote, expressed their entire satisfaction with his services, he was dismissed by the society.
Enlistments took place in a building on Greenwich Avenue just below Main Street. Fife and drum music fired many a young man with a desire to join up. The spot was a favorite one for small boys, many of whom tried to enlist as drummer boys. The troop trains which passed through with flags flying and regimental numbers displayed added to the general excite- ment.
On September 25, 1862, the First Company marched to the Second Congregational Church. Dr. Joel H. Linsley offered a prayer, and a sword was presented to Daniel Merritt Mead, the young captain, after which the company entrained for Hartford.
While many Greenwich men fought in other regiments and distinguished themselves on many battlefields, Company One was the special pride of the town. The soldiers were very young, the average age being twenty one and the captain only twenty- seven. There were twelve pairs of brothers and in three cases father and son marched side by side.
The women formed a branch of the sanitary commission and were very zealous in the preparation of bandages and in send- ing boxes of necessities to the front.
Naturally great anxiety was felt for the absent men and after every battle the casualty lists were scanned for familiar names. It was a sad day when Daniel Mead, then major, was brought home dying from typhoid fever and the great flag at the foot of Lafayette Place hung at halfstaff. The death of this twenty- eight year old lawyer, historian and soldier was a great loss and was keenly felt.
By October, 1862, the town was faced with a serious prob- lem in filling its military quota, because most of the men with- out family responsibility had left with the First Company, which
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was purely volunteer. The military committee, despite lack of funds, recommended a bounty of $100 per man to encourage enlistment. By 1863 slow enlistment necessitated the increase of this bounty to $300. Both of these recommendations were voted for by the town but in both instances the money for the boun- ties had to be borrowed.
By the time the draft laws were enforced the war had lost any glamorous aspects. Draft riots in New York had cast a dark cloud, and financial depression and disillusionment as to a brief duration of the conflict had their influence. Greenwich in com- pany with many other northern communities did not accept the measure with any enthusiasm. A fund was voted by the town to aid the drafted men in the paying of substitutes. These were obtained from brokers and came largely from jails and reform- atories. The bounties ranged from $300 to $1200 depending on the financial status of the man who was originally called. This left the town heavily in debt and the strain on the town treas- ury was felt for many years.
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