Society awoke that night to the fact that a nation had been created and a capital established on the Hudson, and it fairly titillated at the prospect of the gayety of a ‘court.’
V
Now let us take a turn around the city and familiarize ourselves with the setting of the drama. It will not take long, for the little city of thirty-five thousand was compactly built. Broadway, the most promising and pretentious of the thoroughfares, was paved only to Vesey Street—beyond that, mud. The houses, most of them modest, were surrounded by gardens. From the west side of Broadway to the west side of Greenwich, the town was well built up from Bowling Green to Reade. Beyond that, only the hospital and a few widely scattered houses. On the east side, building extended as far north as Broome. Were we on a shopping expedition we should seek Nassau and William, the heart of the retail district, passing on the former many attractive homes including that of Aaron Burr. Were we bent on a promenade, to meet the ladies and the dandies, we should betake ourselves to Wall, where, notwithstanding the auctioneers, the shoemakers, the grocers, the tailors, the confectioners, the peruke-makers, we should pass handsome homes. Perhaps we should jostle the statesmen emerging from the boarding-houses along the way.
These narrow, crooked streets we should find more tolerable by day than by night. The street lamps were at wide intervals and frequently unlighted. If we escaped a highwayman in the night, we should be lucky to escape the mud of the poorly paved sidewalks, and if we did not bruise our shins by collision with the town pumps, we should be fortunate not to stumble over a pig. Off somewhere in the darkness we should probably hear the curses of some unfortunate wanderer fallen over an obstruction, the grunting of hogs rooting in the gutters, the barking of innumerable dogs.[33] The long line of negroes bearing burdens toward the river might pique our curiosity did we not know that they were the sewage carriers of the city doing their nightly routine work.
Even by day we should find traveling not without its risks, for many of the streets were torn up for improvements.[34] Thus ‘the Hon. Mr. Huger,’ thrown from his sedan chair and painfully bruised, lays claim to immortality in the pages of Maclay[35] and in the yellowing sheets of Fenno’s journal.[36] Faring forth in search of the political celebrities, we should not have far to go, for most were herded in boarding-houses. Hamilton lived comfortably at Broad and Wall Streets, Burr around the corner on Nassau. Jefferson was soon realizing his dream of comfort on Broadway after living in a little house in Maiden Lane. Randolph, the Attorney-General, had found a modest place in the country for two hundred and fifty dollars with ‘an excellent pump of fresh water.’[37] Knox was living beyond his means on Broadway, and Adams was at Richmond Hill. But most of the lawgivers found boarding-houses more congenial to their purses. Thus, within a few steps on Great Dock Street we should find Robert Morris, Caleb Strong, Pierce Butler, Fisher Ames, and Theodore Sedgwick; in Maiden Lane, James Madison; on Smith Street, Charles Carroll, and on Water Street, Oliver Ellsworth.
Turning from the celebrities to the lowly and the base, we could visit the slave market which was then active, for there were more than two thousand negroes in bondage in the city. While the orators at Federal Hall were speaking reverently of liberty, the hammer of the auctioneer was knocking down negro girls to the highest bidder, and the local papers were running ‘rewards’ for the capture of runaway slaves.[38] Were we in the mood to walk to the end of the pavement on Broadway, we could regale ourselves, in the grove where the City Hall now stands, with a view of the gallows enshrined in a Chinese pagoda where the executioners competed successfully at times with the debaters in attracting the curious. There, too, stood the whipping-post.[39] In the midst of so much that was grim, little wonder that the statesmen resented the frequent ringing of funeral bells. ‘The gentlemen from the country complain exceedingly of this noisy, unmeaning and absurd custom,’ wrote ‘A Citizen’ to his favorite paper. ‘This is the moment to abolish it, and give an evidence of a disposition to please them.’[40] But it is not of record that the ‘gentlemen from the country’ were permitted to interfere with the privileges of the dead.
Were we to turn from these grim specters to amusement, we could get a conveyance at one of the city’s six livery stables to carry us into the country to the Florida tea-gardens on the North River; thence to Perry’s on the present site of Union Square, or to Williamson’s, near the present site of Greenwich and Harrison.[41] But were our mood of darker hue, we could find no dearth of entertainment at the taverns. When Congress quarreled and struggled at Federal Hall, and Washington dwelt on Cherry Street, one hundred and thirty-one taverns were licensed in the city to which flocked all manner of men. There, with liquor or ale, we could enjoy a cock-fight and pick the winner, or gather about the table and gamble at cards. Laborers, loafers, sailors, criminals infested these dives, and if we preferred cleaner company, we might get an invitation to the Black Friars, the one social club in the city.[42] Or, if more intellectual entertainment were desired, it could be found in the wooden building painted red on John Street, a stone’s-throw from Saint Paul’s Church where Washington had his pew, where the Old American Company regaled the people of the pit, the boxes, and galleries with the plays of Shakespeare, Sheridan, Goldsmith, Garrick, and some of indifferent merit.[43] Here ‘The Father,’ by William Dunlap, the historian of the American theater, had its first presentation—a notable event, since Washington, a spectator, was seen to laugh at the comedy.[44] Indeed, his health permitting, the President was frequently seen in his box which bore the arms of the United States, and the press was not amiss in keeping the public informed when the great man went to the play.[45] He had been in the house on Cherry Street but a few days, when, disregarding the frowns of the purists, he went to see the ‘School for Scandal.’ Two days before, the ‘Daily Advertiser’ had gayly hinted of the prospective visit. ‘It is whispered that “The School for Scandal” and “The Poor Soldier” will be acted on Monday night for the entertainment of the President,’ it said. And then it added, by way of gentle admonition to the players: ‘Mrs. Henry ought on this occasion to condescend to give passion and tenderness to Maria.... Mrs. Henry ought to act Norah and improve the delightful farce by the melody of her voice. Mrs. Henry ought to take no offense at the suggestion.’[46] We may be sure it was a festive occasion, for Fenno’s ‘court journal’ said that ‘there was a most crowded house and the ladies, who were numerous, made a most brilliant appearance.’[47] One sour Senator in the presidential party did not take kindly to the play. ‘I think it an indecent representation before ladies of character and virtue,’ he wrote—and there were ladies in the party![48] The President, however, was pleased to go again quite soon to see ‘The Clandestine Marriage,’ again subjecting ‘ladies of character and virtue’ to temptation, for Mrs. Morris and Mrs. Knox were with his party when ‘Mrs. Henry and Mrs. Morris played with their usual naïveté and uncommon animation’ due to ‘the countenance of such illustrious auditors.’[49]
Other forms of entertainment, all too few, were not neglected by the celebrities. ‘The President and his Lady and family and several other persons of distinction were pleased to honor Mr. Bowen’s wax-works exhibit with their company at 74 Water Street’—looms among the announcements of the ‘court journal.’[50]
VI
Nor were the entertainments dependent wholly upon the residents and governmental dignitaries. The little city was bravely simulating the airs of a real capital. The social climbers, hearing of the ‘court’ flocked to town from the four corners with their wives and daughters.[51] The cost of living mounted alarmingly, and the rental of suitable houses was prohibitive to many. Oliver Wolcott, hesitating about accepting a place paying fifteen hundred dollars a year, had been assured by Ellsworth that a house could be had for two hundred dollars, wood for four dollars a cord, hay for eight dollars a ton, but that marketing was twenty-five per cent higher than at Hartford.[52] But soon after his arrival, the discouraged official was writing his father that ‘the expense of living here will be greater than I had imagined.’[53] The leading tavern, on the west side of Broadway, near Cedar, was a modest establishment with immodest prices.[54] And to make matters worse, ‘society’ had set a giddy pace.