USA > Massachusetts > Suffolk County > Boston > Old Boston Town, early in this century > Part 3
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ventor of it. Oliver C. Greenleaf, a polished gen- tleman and bachelor kept a general stationery store, with fancy goods, in Court street, near Cornhill.
Those were the days when Boston was governed by Boston born men ; the above named gentlemen, and such as they, with the Bryants, Otis', Perkins' and the like, formed the Boards of Selectmen (before 1825). They never would have voted to have those old elms cut down. It makes me sad to think of the desecration. So, melancholy-ly,
OXYGEN-AIRIAN.
OUT-OF-TOWN, Fuly, 1880.
My young friend :
It is rather a high temperature to write, or even think about dancing, but I jot down the first thing which comes to my mind. Seventy-five years since, there was but a single room in Boston in which great dinners, balls, and concerts could be given. This was Concert Hall, on the corner of Hanover and Court streets. For many years it was kept by a man named Eaton, and, with the exception of the official dinners and meetings at Faneuil Hall, it was the only place for flower shows, dancing parties, ventriloquists, and other kinds of shows. There were a couple of dancing masters at that time, who had but small accommodations for other than small classes in their parlors; and there are doubtless several grandmothers in Boston to-day who re-
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member with pleasure the good times they used to have at the sociables in Concert Hall, under George Shaffer and Master Turner.
From seventy to seventy-five years since, the principal taverns in Boston were Earle's Coffee House, in Hanover street, on premises now part of the American House ; the Eastern Stage Office, No. 45 Ann street, and Patterson's, in Elm street. The first was the stopping place of the Southern mail coaches, that is, the stages to Worcester, Springfield, Hartford, New Haven and New York ; all the stages for Newburyport, Portsmouth and Portland had their headquarters at 45 Ann street (better known to everybody then as Davenport's, Hale's or Wilde's, "under the arch"), and the Salem, Watertown, Medford, Plymouth, and some other lines of stages, stopped at and started from Enoch Patterson's.
The stable accommodations at all these places were very extensive, sufficiently so to accommo- date several hundred horses and vehicles ; for many persons would travel to town in their own chaises, or carriages ; and leaving those vehicles at the stable, would take up their own quarters with friends in town. There was then a daily line of stages to and from Haverhill, driven on alter- nate days by their owners, Hiram Plummer and Samuel Prime, both wealthy and much esteemed gentlemen. The headquarters of the Haverhill stages were 45 Ann street.
This famous (in those days) old tavern was, at the commencement of this century, the family resi-
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dence of the Codmans. The house stood back from Ann street some hundred feet, with a fine garden in front, extending to the street, and overlooking the harbor,there not being a single building between the house and the water. About 1802 or 1803, the front of the garden was covered by two three-story brick buildings, a wide archway in the centre being left for stages to drive around the house to the extensive stables on Centre street. This house was first kept as a tavern by Captain Palmer (a daugh- ter of whom now lives in Boston), who was suc- ceeded by Davenport (father of E. L. D., the actor), Hale, Davenport (again), and the brothers Ephraim and Solomon Wildes. Don't know their success- ors, until the whole was swept away.
There are many yet living who remember with pleasure some of the old drivers of stages in the olden time. They were always good, substantial American men, and were fully the equals of those who rode behind them. If any should recall the names of Aleck Brown, Sam. and Jo. Robinson, Jack Mendum, William and James Potter, or Wil- lis Barnaby, they will thank me for bringing them to mind. The latter gentleman is the only person I ever heard who had literally " looked into his own heart," or rather at it. An internal disease required that an incision should be made over his heart, and by placing a looking glass before it, he could see the beatings of that organ.
Nearly all the other taverns in town were more specially for the accommodation of market people who brought in vegetables, poultry, fruit, eggs,
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butter, &c., &c. These all had extensive stable room and sheds, and the principal one, the Dock Square Tavern, had a yard which ran through to Elm street, and could " put up" hundreds of horses and wagons. Before the Tremont House was built, this old tavern was kept for many years by Simeon Boyden, who afterwards went to New York and opened the Astor House. Asher Daven- port kept it in 1816.
The Indian Queen Tavern was in Bromfield's Lane, probably where the Bromfield House now is. The Sun Tavern was at the end of Battery- march street corner of Hamilton strect. The Lion Tavern and the Lamb were both in Newberry street, between Winter and Boylston streets, same side. The Green Dragon was in a street or lane opposite Union street (Friend street ?) This was not so much of an inn, as a chop-house or club- house. One or two masonic lodges met here be- fore the Hall was built in Ann street, just out of Union street.
It was probably between sixty and seventy years since, that the Commercial Coffee House was built, foot of Milk street, and afterwards the Marlboro' was opened. This is the first public house in Bos- ton which was christened " Hotel " from the start. When steamboats first began to run on the Sound, between New York and Providence, it was from the Marlboro' Hotel that the stages started with the passengers for the steamboats. And it was quite a pleasant sight of a morning to see twelve to fifteen stages in a line, driving out over Roxbury
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Neck. When the Providence railroad was built the stage people were not at all alarmed, and for a long time kept their stages going, threatening to kill the railroad !
Somewhere about 1813 my father purchased a small farm in Bradford, on the Merrimac River, and one day he had some urgent business in Bos- ton, so he started early on a Summer morning, in his " one-horse shay," a genuine Raynor, and drove to Reading for breakfast, thence to Boston, where he was engaged in business several hours. Return ing, he gave his horse a rest and feed at Andover, and arrived home early in the evening. The whole county of Essex rung with the news that Ben. H. had gone from Bradford to Boston and back in one day. Well, fifty-six miles a day for a horse is pretty good work; but now dozens of people breakfast in Haverhill and Bradford, attend to their daily business in Boston, and return home to dinner.
This paragraph has nothing particular to do with old Boston, but writing about stages reminds me that about 1818, my father resided in Hanover street, in the mansion owned by John Coffin Jones. Lyman Beecher's meeting house was built on the site of the house. Directly opposite lived our then family doctor. One day the writer happened to be standing in the street, and the New York mail stage came rushing down at a furious rate. In the opposite gutter was a little shaver in petticoats, who had strayed like a lost lamb from the opposite yard and was studiously investigating the contents
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of said gutter. Just before the stage reached the child, the writer rushed across, picked him up and slung him over the fence. Perhaps it was not of much consequence at the time, but if that child had been killed Nath. B. Shurtleff would never have been Mayor of Boston.
The steps of the Exchange Coffee House were much used by James Wilson, the town crier, to announce the auction sales of Whitwell & Bond, Thomas K. Jones & Co., David Hale (afterwards of N. Y. Journal Commerce), and other auctioneers, who did chiefly congregate in Kilby street, near State. Jimmy was a great humorist, and altho' he made his living by crying, he was always in a most jovial mood. He generally closed the formal announcement of an auction by some quizzical re- mark to a bystander, for he knew everybody, and was on familiar terms with all sorts and conditions of men.
Jimmy Wilson was often at his post about nine o'clock in the evening, ringing his bell loudly for several minutes to collect a large crowd, and then announcing a lost child, or a lost pocket-book. His account of the agony of bereaved parents would be heart-rending, when he would suddenly explode a joke which would start the crowd off, roaring.
In the stage coach days of seventy odd years ago, it was the custom for travelers to leave their names on a call book at the stage office, and the coaches would often be an hour going from street to street picking up passengers, returning to stage
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office in time to start punctually at the hour. On the arrival of the stages in town, probably half the passengers would stop at the stage house; others who desired it would be carried to any part of the town. Boston was then not so " sizeable " as now, the number of inhabitants in 1810 being only about 35,000. Yours, very truly,
OXYGEN-AIRIAN.
OUT-OF-TOWN, Fuly, 1880.
My young friend :
There were very few gentlemen in Boston, who, seventy years ago, would think it was possible for them to wear other than an English hat. There were three or four prominent hatters who made it a specialty to import hats ordered by their regular customers. One was Colonel Daniel Messenger, whose store was in Newberry street, corner of Sheafes' lane, somewhere near where Chickering's piano factory now is; and another was William Barry, who had a store in the old State House. There was also a hatter who had not quite so stylish customers; his name was Sturgis; kept at the corner of Ann and Centre streets. He was father of Captain Josiah Sturgis, for many years in command of revenue cutters ; and whose ex- tensive epaulettes and muchness of gold lace must be yet remembered by many. His sister Lucy was married to Joshua Bates, of Baring Bros., London, and their daughter Elizabeth became the
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wife of the Dutch minister to England, Mynheer Van Der Weyer.
This hat business came to my mind to day while thinking over something which my father told me when I was a little boy, in order to impress upon my mind that " it always paid well to be polite." He and Harrison Gray Otis were strong political friends, and were in the habit of speaking very plainly to each other. One day while walking to- gether, father said, "Brother Otis, why is it that your name is in the mouth of everybody as being such a fine man, such a perfect gentleman, such a good man, &c .? Now please tell me what have you ever done to entitle you to be so bepraised ?" " The thing is very simple, Brother Ben ; go up to Col. Messinger's and you will see by his books, that every year he orders four hats for me, and only one for you ; I bow to everybody I meet, and you don't ; hence I wear out four times as many hats as you do" Mr. Otis made a satisfactory Mayor some twenty years afterward, probably . counterbalancing his suavity of manner, against the energy and business push of his predecessor, Josiah Quincy.
The papers have said something about a grand celebration to be held in Boston next fall. Won- der if there will be a sufficient number of Boston born 1801-ers to fill an omnibus? My schoolmates at Muliiken's, seventy years ago, are all gone. The boys who sat with me at the head of the first class, have all left. Brad. Lincoln, Sam and Bob Stod- der, Seth and David Barnes, (twins), Jas. Arrock,
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Will Lienow; all away ahead of me now. By the way, if the grandchildren of any of those boys call on you to inquire about me, please give them my address, and paternal blessing.
Oh, yes, there is one left, or was, in 1875, when this deponent last visted Boston, to assist at the centennial of Bunker Hill. This boy went into a Boston bank soon after leaving school, and never did anything else except to go out of it. I knew him, although he did not recognize me, not having seen me for sixty years. He greeted me as if he had been asked for a discount without collaterals, and hurried off very hastily, looking quite wild. He used to live in Back street; now probably in Avenue de Commonwealth. I wended my way to my host, the Temple Club.
It may possibly interest some of your friends to know that two of their favorites in the theatrical profession were Boston boys. John Gilbert, for many years at Wallack's, New York, was a born North-ender, and when a boy of sixteen was smash- ing things generally (most boys do) in the crock- ery store of Atkins, opposite the Old South ; and at the same time, E. L. Davenport was a boy in a cloth house in Kilby street. The early friendship of the two boys, increased in strength until the death of the latter, as has been elsewhere stated. Mr. Asher Davenport, the father of E. L. D., kept the old tavern in Dock Square, about sixty-five years ago, long before Bayden, and it was at this house that the writer found that rare bird, a lov- ing, kindly mother-in-law.
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A little less than seventy years ago, my dear (?) step-mother thought it would improve my mind by putting me in charge of Saml. T. Arm- strong, No. 50 Cornhill, to learn the printer's trade. To slightly paraphrase the language of the late lamented Isaac Watts, D. D., " her only care was to increase her store, and keep her only (step) son, myself, as far away from home as possible." Hence we became a printer's devil, and spent a good deal of time in learning it, by blacking shoes, splitting and carrying wood, lugging market basket, acting as a living aqueduct for getting clean water up, and dirty water down three flights of stairs. Nevertheless, in reading proof, the un- dersigned did master the whole of Scott's Family Bible (" in 6 vols. royal octavo, with marg. ref. and prac. observ."), as can be certified to by Uriel Crocker, or Osmyn Brewster. I wonder if they remember, as well as I do, the terrifically heavy bread which was doled out to all of us boys when we boarded with Mrs. , in Court street, at. $1.00 per week, per each victim. Of all the force which assisted at the first edition of Scott's Family Bible, &c., &c., none are above ground besides Uriel, Osmyn and yours truly. If any of our fel-
low sufferers had any of Mrs .-- -'s heavy bread in them when they left here, there will be no re- surrection of their bodies (creed notwithstanding), they being too heavily loaded.
About 1816 a strange feeling of uneasiness came over me, and nothing would do, but a voyage, "strange countries for to see." Hence, took
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passage (in the forecastle, at $7 per month) in ship Suffolk, belonging to Ropes & Peckman. Knocked about several years in Europe, Asia, Africa and the West Indies, until 1826, when I bid farewell to the "sea, the sea, the open sea," professionally, with a handle to my name (not Mister), have since been working along shore,and it has been rumored that I have been of some service to my country- men in sundry ways.
Now, stop that. I think I hear you say " what has this got to do with old Boston?" Echo answers through me, "nothing at all." But why did you ask me in your last note to tell you some- thing about myself ? It is your fault altogether ; for since these sketches were commenced at your request, to furnish a biographical memorial to Old Mother Boston, you will notice how hard has been the endeavor to keep out of sight that ugly letter " I." It has been a constant struggle to have that egotistical vowel kept as much out of sight as pos- sible. So cease your growling, and your apology will be accepted by
Yours, as ever,
OXYGEN-AIRIAN.
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OUT-OF-TOWN, August, 1880.
My young friend :
Perhaps you will think that what is in this com- munication has very little to do with the autobio- graphy of Boston in the olden time. If you do so speculate, guess, allow, believe or reckon, you are mistaken. Firstly, you will see how easily a great good was accomplished, and Secondly, you may have some suggestions to make to certain shipowners, merchants and others, who are to hold a convention in Boston in October, to discuss mat- ters relative to the shipping interests of the coun- try. It will be well if they can devise some plan to re-introduce the American flag to the ocean upon our own merchantmen, and perhaps they may be induced to try to do something to improve the breed, or rather to create a new brood of Ameri- can sailors. Now, three-quarters of the officers of our ships are foreign born, as are nineteen-twen- tieths of the sailors which man our petty mercan- tile marine.
Somewhere about sixty years ago, (say fifty- seven), the good ship Canton Packet, owned by Thos. H. Perkins, left Central wharf, Boston, bound to China. Her commander was a gentleman of the old school, a first-class navigator, thorough-bred merchant and true Christian. His demeanor was so quiet that he might have been mistaken for a country parson. The first and third mates were regular sailors, every inch of them, not too arbi
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trary or severe, but seemingly having this idea constantly in their minds, "we must get all the work possible out of the boys; study navigation ? pish !"
The second mate was much the youngest of all the officers ; quiet and gentle in giving orders, and a great favorite with the men. A few days after leaving port, when everything had been made snug, the second mate informed the crew that it was the captain's wish that the men should not waste all their time, during their " watch below," in cards and other useless amusements. They might read, sing, play or mend clothes, but he didn't wish them to utterly waste their time in nonsense.
The crew was composed entirely of Americans ; several Boston boys, the rest from adjacent towns and Cape Cod. All had been fairly educated, with two exceptions, an old salt named Jerry, and George, a mulatto. The captain proposed that a portion of every watch below should be devoted to study ; that "'tween decks, forrard," should be the school-room, and that he would teach navigation, mathematics, lunar observations, &c. The sugges- tion was gratefully received by the crew ; the cap- tain gave his daily instructions (except on Sundays), in which he was constantly aided by the second mate, when his duties did not require him to be on deck. The ship went to Whampoa, Manila, to a port in Northern Europe, and returned to Bos- ton after an absence of fifteen or eighteen months. At the end of the voyage, there was not one of that crew (with the exceptions mentioned) who could
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not, in case of an emergency, have navigated that ship to any required port.
After the ship had been secured to the wharf (by the crew, not by stevedores,) and the crew were preparing to visit their families and friends, all hands were called aft, and were told that " as you boys loaded the ship, you can, if you choose, discharge her, receiving stevedore's wages." A very short consultation on the " fo'csle " settled the question in the affirmative. The boys went to their homes, or friends at night; took an early breakfast and in due time the ship was discharged. The next day, a variation of the formula was made, " boys the owner is going to have the ship hauled up for the present ; her sails are to be unbent, rig- ging unrove, spars to be sent down, in fact we want the ship stripped, and as you have already rigged her on the voyage, you can do the job if you like and get rigger's wages." The job was taken ; the ship hauled to a wharf at the North- end, and when the crew was paid off as seamen, stevedores and riggers, they were complimented very highly by the venerable owner. I don't be- lieve such a case has been duplicated in any port of the United States, within the past fifty years.
Every one of that crew (exceptions noted) went out on his next voyage as an officer of a vessel. One of them took command of a brig.
The old ship, a few years ago, met the same fate as the fellow did at the Delaware whipping post- she died of too much whaling. The good captain, the first and third mates, and all the crew besides
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those to be mentioned, have all finished their last voyages. The good assistant schoolmaster, having advanced in his profession to shipmaster and owner, has for many years been identified with the com- mercial interests, not only of Boston, but of the world. He is wealthy, a nautical inventor, a scholar, merchant and gentleman. To sum him up in three words, he is Robert Bennett Forbes.
Capt. Forbes, " old Jerry," and the writer hereof, are all which remain of the " Canton Packet " and her crew of 1823. " Old Jerry"* was in the " Home " in Boston a short time since, doubtless provided for by the " second mate."
Now you see, my young friend, why you should have a talk with those Conventioners. It is all nonsense to build a vessel in Maine, fill her up with Scotch, Danes, Swedes, Lascars or Sandwich Islanders, with a captain having papers of natu- ralization, and then blow about encouraging American commerce.
That the Lord may move this people to encour- age, not only the making of American vessels, but also the making of American sailors, this petitioner will ever pray, remaining, meanwhile,
Yours very truly,
OXYGEN-AIRIAN.
* Capt. Jeremiah Tinkham died since the foregoing was written .- Author,
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APPENDIX.
--
OUT-OF-TOWN, September 14th, 1883.
It may not much interest the readers of the pre- ceding pages to be told the following story, but as it probably cannot be paralleled in the present century, I have concluded to write it out.
In 1817, or thereabouts, there were three appren- tices in a printing establishment on Cornhill, Bos- ton. The oldest one was 18 years of age, and was foreman of the printing office; the next, a few months younger, was at the head of the book-store connected with the establishment ; the youngest was what is technically called " the Printer's Devil," and the writer hereof is that same.
This day (September 14th, 1883), the two seniors called on the junior, and they had a very pleasant chat about " old times." The seniors were part- ners in business sixty-five years ; one is president of a banking institution in Boston; the other an active business man, a director in one of the lead- ing railroads. Both are wealthy, and accompanied by two of their grandchildren have just taken a trip to the White Mountains, New York, and other places. The united ages of these three "fellow apprentices " is two hundred and fifty-four years and six months.
There, do you think that "re-union" can be duplicated in any part of the country ? I don't.
THE AUTHOR.
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