“It gives me concern, in this time of public difficulty and danger, to find we have in this city no place of daily general meeting, where we might hear and communicate intelligence from every quarter and freely confer with one another on every matter that concerns us. Such a place of general meeting is of very great advantage in many respects, especially at such a time as this, besides the satisfaction it affords and the sociable disposition it has a tendency to keep up among us, which was never more wanted than at this time. To answer all these and many other good and useful purposes, Coffee Houses have been universally deemed the most convenient places of resort, because at a small expense of time or money, persons wanted may be found and spoke with, appointments may be made, current news heard, and whatever it most concerns us to know. In all cities, therefore, and large towns that I have seen in the British dominions, sufficient encouragement has been given to support one or more Coffee Houses in a genteel manner. How comes it then that New York, the most central, and one of the largest and most prosperous cities in British America, cannot support one Coffee House? It is a scandal to the city and its inhabitants to be destitute of such a convenience, for want of due encouragement. A coffee house, indeed, here is! a very good and comfortable one, extremely well tended and accommodated, but it is frequented but by an inconsiderable number of people; and I have observed with surprise, that but a small part of those who do frequent it, contribute anything at all to the expense, of it, but come in and go out without calling for or paying anything to the house. In all the Coffee Houses in London, it is customary for every one that comes in, to call for at least a dish of Coffee, or leave the value of one, which is but reasonable, because when the keepers of these houses have been at the expense of setting them up and providing all necessaries for the accommodation of company, every one that comes to receive the benefit of these conveniences ought to contribute something towards the expense of them.
“To each individual the expense is a trifle quite inconsiderable, but to the keeper of one of these houses it is an article of great importance, and essential to the support and continuance of it. I have, therefore, since I frequented the Coffee House in this city and observed the numbers that come in without spending anything, often wondered how the expense of the house was supported, or what inducement the person who kept it could have to continue it. At the same time I could not help being equally surprised at the disposition of people who acted in this manner; or their thoughtlessness in neglecting to contribute to the support of a house which their business or pleasure induced them to frequent; especially as I have met with no Coffee House in my travels better accommodated with attendance or any liquors that could be expected in a Coffee House.
“I have of late observed that the house is almost deserted, and don’t wonder that fire and candles are not lighted as usual; it is rather surprising they were continued so long. I am convinced the interest of the person who keeps it, must, without a speedy alteration, soon induce her to drop the business and shut up her house; and I cannot help feeling concern that a very useful and worthy person, who has always behaved well in her station, should not be treated with more generosity and kindness by her fellow citizens. I am concerned, too, for my own conveniency and for the honor of the city, to find that it will not support one Coffee House.
“A Friend to the City.”
When the American army came into the city to prepare for its defense Mrs. Ferrari was still the landlady of the Merchants’ Coffee House, but on May 1, 1776, it passed into the hands of Cornelius Bradford, who seems to have been a man of energy and enterprise. In his announcement in April he promised that he would endeavor to give satisfaction, that he would obtain all the newspapers for the use of his patrons and render the house as useful and convenient as possible. He says: “Interesting intelligence will be carefully collected and the greatest attention will be given to the arrival of vessels, when trade and navigation shall resume their former channels.” He evidently was hopeful of better times, although preparations for war were being made around him on all sides. Bradford was an ardent supporter of the American cause and had been an express rider, carrying important confidential messages between New York and Boston and between New York and Philadelphia. His tenure of the Merchants’ Coffee House at this time was of short duration. He abandoned his house and went out of the city with the American troops, but returned and took possession of it again as its landlord at the close of the war.
Flight from the City
The year 1776 was a sad one for New York. Before the first of July great numbers of the inhabitants, dreading the impending conflict, had left the city to place their families in security. Many loyalists had left to avoid military service. A letter written in the city July 30, 1776, says: “You would be surprised to see what numbers of empty houses there are in this place. Very few of the inhabitants remain in town that are not engaged in the service.” Another by a physician, under date of August 9, says: “The air of the whole city seems infected. In almost every street there is a horrid smell—But, duty to my country, and another consideration, require that I should not quit my post at this juncture.” A British document, relating to the commissary department during the war, makes the statement that nineteen-twentieths of the inhabitants with their families and effects had left the city before the entry of the British troops. Added to the calamity of war was a devastating fire which destroyed a large part of the city shortly after the British took possession.
After the occupation of the city by the British troops, the Merchants’ Coffee House evidently soon became a favorite resort of the officers of the army. When Captain Alexander Graydon, made prisoner at the battle of Fort Washington, was allowed the freedom of the city within certain limits, on his parole, he one day saw in the newspaper printed by Hugh Gaine something which stirred him with a great desire to write a squib addressed “to the officers of the British army,” which he and Lieutenant Edwards, his fellow prisoner, agreed to endeavor to have placed in some conspicuous part of the Coffee House. For the small reward of a quarter of a dollar, a black boy succeeded in placing it in one of the boxes. Captain Davenport, whom Graydon characterizes as certainly a voluntary captive, if not a deserter, called upon them on the following evening and said to them: “You are a couple of pretty fellows. You have made a devil of an uproar at the Coffee House.” Graydon and Edwards admitted nothing, for they knew if detected they would get lodgings in the provost prison. Captain Davenport was an Irishman who had joined the same regiment as Graydon as a lieutenant, afterwards becoming captain. After the retreat from Long Island he remained, Graydon says, in New York, sick or pretending to be sick, and stayed there until the British look possession of it. He called himself a prisoner but there was little doubt that he had renounced our cause and made his peace with the enemy. He states that as they had no absolute certainty of his baseness they did not think it necessary to discard him, for, as he frequented the Coffee House, mixed with the British officers and tories, they often received intelligence through him that they could get in no other way. Another officer of the American army who seemed to have made his peace with the enemy, although he called himself a prisoner, was Colonel Houssacker. He claimed that all was over, and in his conversation with the officers held as prisoners his inference was that they should immediately make their peace. He said to some of them: “Why don’t you go to the Coffee House and mix with the British army as I do? They will use you well;” but he made no proselytes to his opinions or principles. Graydon describes him as “a man of no country or any country, a citizen of the world, a soldier of fortune and a true mercenary.”
When Graydon came into possession of his trunk which had been among the baggage captured at Fort Washington, stipulated for in its surrender, he dressed himself in a good suit of regimentals and hat, and against the advice of older officers, sallied forth alone and walked past the Coffee House down to the Battery. Finding the gate open, he strolled through it from one end to the other, every sentinel, to his great surprise, “handling his arms” to him as he passed. Making a considerable circuit in another part of the town, he regained his lodgings without the slightest molestation. He afterwards learned from Mr. Theophylact Bache that he saw him pass the Coffee House, and that he and some other gentlemen had to exert themselves to prevent his being insulted.
The Duel at Hull’s