Old Taverns of New York

by W. Harrison Bayles

In the course of time several taverns had been opened in the neighborhood of the market, and it had become the center of considerable business. In 1726 the only newspaper in New York gave notice of servants to be sold by John Dunks at the sign of the Jamaica Pilot Boat, on the Dock. In 1750 the following appeared in the New York Gazette or Weekly Post Boy: “Just imported, a parcel of likely negros, to be sold at public vendue to-morrow at Ten o’clock at the Merchants’ Coffee House.”

The tavern at the sign of the Jamaica Pilot Boat stood on the northwest corner of the present Wall and Water Streets, then Wall and Burnet Streets. Francis Child, a wigmaker, owned it and advertised it for sale in 1736 and 1737, when he described it as the corner house near the Meal Market, “a well frequented tavern for several years past” and in good repair.

Daniel Bloom, mariner, who as captain of the Turtle Dove had met with a very unfortunate experience in the West Indies, his brig and all on board being stript of everything even to the clothing they wore, and who had lately arrived rived in New York, purchased the house and lot, in June, 1738, the consideration mentioned in the deed being five hundred pounds (£500). Bloom was landlord of the house for more than a dozen years. While living here he, in December, 1747, took the lease of the ferry between the city and Nassau (Long) Island for the term of five years, for which he agreed to pay the sum of four hundred and fifty-five pounds (£455) per annum, to be paid in quarterly installments, and the common council ordered that the neighborhood of the Meal Market have leave, at their own expense, to make and erect a dock and stairs, for the convenience of the ferry boat which was to land there, in such manner as shall be directed by the committee appointed for that purpose. Bloom ran the ferry for about three years, when, in September, 1750, by permission of the common council, he transferred the lease to Andrew Ramsay, who at this time was the landlord of the Exchange Coffee House, from which he moved to the ferry house on the Long Island side of the river. Soon after this Bloom died. At the time of his death he was still indebted to the city for a portion of the rent of the ferry, and the corporation, in June, 1751, offered to take from the executors of his estate fifty pounds (£50) in settlement of all arrears due.

The Merchants’ Coffee House

Long before Daniel Bloom purchased the house that hung out the sign of the Jamaica Pilot Boat, it had been kept by John Dunks. Bloom did not retain the sign, for we find that a few years later, it was used by the widow of John Dunks, who kept a house a little further up near the Fly Market. Bloom had seen considerable of the world, and appears to have been a man of some property, owning real estate in the city and in Westchester County. He probably had an acquaintance among the merchants, as sea captains generally had, and was able to make his house a resort for them. He called it the Merchants’ Coffee House, and he was no doubt the first landlord of the house by that name, which, for more than half a century, was one of the most prominent houses of the city. As its name implies, it gradually became the place where the merchants of the city met and transacted business, and it became also the place where auctions, or vendues, as they were called, were held, especially such as were connected with the shipping business. The year after Bloom’s death, its landlord was Captain James Ackland.

The price paid for the lease of the ferry indicates that there must have been considerable travel over it and that the house at the landing place should have been a profitable one. On the next corner below, on Burnet’s Key and Wall Street Slip, was the tavern of Widow Susannah Lawrence, which at one time was called the Red Lion, and on the opposite side of Wall Street stood, in 1735, St. George and the Dragon, which in 1750 was occupied by Thomas Leppers, from London, who hung out the sign of the Duke of Cumberland. He had succeeded George Burns, who became prominent as a tavern-keeper and was in turn the landlord of many well known houses. In May, 1750, announcement was made that “Thomas Leppers, living at the sign of the Duke of Cumberland, opposite the Merchants’ Coffee House, proposes to open an Ordinary To-morrow, Dinner will be ready at half an Hour after One,” and a few days later he gave notice that “Whereas, I have often heard Gentlemen Strangers and single Gentlemen of this City wish for a Regular Ordinary and since my removal to the Duke of Cumberland, opposite the Merchants’ Coffee House, I have been frequently advised by Gentlemen my friends to keep one. These are to give Notice That I began to do so on Tuesday last, which shall be continued every Day. Dinner shall be ready at One o’clock. Per Thomas Leppers from London.”

An Affair at Leppers’ Tavern

In August, 1750, this house was the scene of a disturbance which must have caused much talk in the town, as an account of the affair occupies a whole page in one of the issues of the New York Gazette Revived in the Weekly Post Boy, a very unusual attention given any local news. It was claimed that the article had been written by spectators of the affair to set to right reports that were current in the town. On Tuesday evening, the 28th of August, several persons met as a club at Leppers’ tavern, and one or two of the company, signifying a desire to have Mr. James Porterfield join them, one of the members went out and in a short time returned and introduced him to the company, who, it seems, were mostly physicians or interested in that profession. After supper he begged the attention of the club, and stated that he had received many civilities from the gentlemen of the club, for which he returned them thanks; but a friend had told him that having lately asked a member if Mr. Porterfield were admitted to it, the answer was, that he was not, and that his loquacity was the cause of it. He said that he submitted to the judgment of the club whether he had ever behaved in such a manner at the club as to deserve that reflection. The members of the club declined to pass judgment upon the question, stating that as he was not a member, it would be to no purpose to give any judgment about it, since if they thought him too talkative it was not in their power to prevent it as his conduct could not be regulated by any of their rules. Notwithstanding this definite answer, he still persisted in claiming a judgment whether he was faulty in being too talkative or not. The members of the club maintained their first position and begged him not to insist any further, as he was defeating the original intention of the meeting. He became violent, but was prevailed at length to be quiet while a paper was being read by one of the members. He seems to have worked himself up to a high state of resentment for he sneered and interrupted the reading, and after it was finished became so uncontrollable and insulting that he was threatened with expulsion. He then threw his glove upon the table as a challenge, and although no other person was armed, drew his sword. At this point the member, who had threatened to turn him out, took up the glove and threw it in his face, and being seated at the opposite side of a long table went round to him, and, with the assistance of some of the other members, disarmed him and broke his sword. They forced him to the door, but he used his cane, which was also broken by the company, who now went to another room, leaving him alone. He went down stairs and on his way out told Mr. Loppers that he would get another sword and return and run some of the members upstairs through the body, but Mr. Loppers told him that he could not again enter his house that night. He thereupon seated himself at the door with the stump of his sword in his hand waiting for revenge, but was induced by the member of the club who had introduced him to retire to his lodgings.

This was not the end, for the next evening Mr. Porterfield came down to the Merchants’ Coffee House, and at sight of Doctor Ayscough, drew his sword and shook it at the Doctor, who stood in the door, calling him villain and scoundrel and challenging him to fight. After some abuse of this kind Doctor Ayscough seized a cane from a bystander and struck Porterfield on the head, who immediately rushed towards him and made a pass at him. Doctor Ayscough, in retreating, fell down and Porterfield, thinking that he had pricked him, very quickly and prudently disappeared, as the resentment of the spectators was apparent. Doctor Ayscough was not injured.

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