Old
Time Taverns
BY the close of the seventeenth century the word
ordinary was passing into disuse in America; public
houses had multiplied vastly and had become taverns,
though a few old-fashioned folk--in letters, and
doubtless in conversation--still called them
ordinaries--Judge Sewall was one. The word inn,
universal in English speech, was little heard here,
and tavern was universally adopted. Though to-day
somewhat shadowed by a formless reputation of being
frequently applied to hostelries of vulgar resort and
coarse fare and ways, the word tavern is nevertheless
a good one, resonant of sound and accurate of
application, since to this present time in the
commonwealth of Massachusetts and in other states such
large and sumptuous caravansaries as the Touraine and
the Somerset Hotel of Boston are in the eye and tongue
of the law simply taverns, and their proprietors
inn-holders or tavern-keepers.
In the Middle colonies ordinaries and inns were
just as quickly opened, just as important, just as
frequent, as in New England; but in the Southern
colonies, the modes of settlement were so different,
there were so few towns and villages, that hospitality
to the traveller was shown at each plantation, every
man's home was an inn; every planter was a landlord.
Old Time Taverns of the South: In general no charge
was made for the entertainment of the chance visitor
whose stay was deemed a pleasure in the secluded life
of the Virginia tobacco planter. Indeed, unless a
distinct contract had been made in advance and terms
stated, the host could not demand pay from a guest, no
matter how long the visitor remained. Rates of prices
were set for the first Virginian ordinaries; previous
to 1639 six pounds of tobacco were paid for a dinner,
or about eighteen pence in coin; but as food soon grew
more abundant, the price was reduced to twelve pence,
and it was enjoined that the food must be wholesome
and plentiful. Then the charges grew
exorbitant,--twenty pounds of tobacco for a meal for a
master, fifteen for a servant. Throughout the country
the prices wavered up and down, but were never low.
There were apparently two causes for this: the fact
that ordinary-keepers captured so few guests, and also
that the tobacco leaf varied and depreciated in value.
By 1668 so many small tippling-houses and petty
ordinaries existed in the colony of Virginia that laws
were passed restricting the number in each county to
one at the court-house, and possibly one at a wharf or
ferry. Then the magistrates tried to limit the drinks
sold in these houses to beer and cider; and private
individuals were warned not to sell "any sort of
drink or liquor whatsoever, by retail under any color,
pretence, delusion, or subtle evasion
whatsoever." Those conditions did not last long.
Soon the Virginia ordinaries had plentiful domestic
and imported liquors, and at very low prices. Mr.
Bruce says that "Madeira, Canary, Malaga, and
Fayal wines were probably much more abundant in the
Colony that in England at this time, and were drunk by
classes which in the mother country were content with
strong and small-beer."
But the ordinaries did scant business as lodging
places. Governor Harvey complained that he could with
as much justice be called the host as the Governor of
Virginia, from the great number of persons entertained
by him. This condition of affairs continued outside
the cities till well into this century. In the large
towns, however, comfortable taverns were everywhere
established; and they were, as in the Northern
colonies, the gathering places of many serious and
many frivolous assemblages. The best of our American
taverns were found in Southern cities; Baltimore had
the fountain Inn built around a courtyard like an old
English inn, and furnished very handsomely
Old Time Taverns Of New York: Few of these ancient
taverns still remain. The old Indian Queen Tavern is
still standing at Bladensburg, Maryland. Its picture
is given opposite page 33. This view is from a
painting by Mr. Edward Lamson Henry. It shows also an
old stagewagon such as was used in the eighteenth
century, starting out from the tavern door. Mr. Henry
has made a most exhaustive study of old-time modes of
travel, as well as a fine collection of old might be
erected at the rear of the inn; right was given to
retail the East India Company's wine and brandy; and
some dull records exist of the use of the building as
an inn. It had a career afterward of years of use and
honor as the Stadt Huys, or City Hall; I have told its
story at length in a paper in the Half-Moon Series on
Historic New York.
The building was certainly not needed as a tavern,
for in 1648 one-fourth of the buildings in New
Amsterdam had been turned into tap-houses for the sale
of beer, brandy, and tobacco. Governor Stuyvesant
placed some restraint on these tapsters; they had to
receive unanimous consent of the Council to set up the
business; they could not sell to Indians.
"Unreasonable night-tippling," that is,
drinking after the curfew bell at nine o'clock, and
"intemperate drinking on the Sabbath," that
is, drinking by any one not a boarder before three
o'clock on the Sabbath (when church services were
ended), were heavily fined. Untimely "sitting of
clubs" was also prohibited. These laws were
evaded with as much ease as the Raines Law provisions
of later years in the same neighborhood.
In 1664 the red cross of St. George floated over
the city; the English were in power; the city of New
Amsterdam was now New York. The same tavern laws as
under the Dutch obtained, however, till 1748, and
under the English, taverns multiplied as fast as under
Dutch rule. They had good old English names on their
sign-boards: the Thistle and Crown, the Rose and
Thistle, the Duke of Cumberland, the Bunch of Grapes,
St. George and the Dragon, Dog's Head in the Porridge
Pot, the Fighting Cocks, the White Lion, the King's
Head.
On the Boreel Building on Broadway is a bronze
commemorative tablet, placed there in 1890 by the
Holland Society.
The site of this building has indeed a history of
note. In 1754 Edward Willet opened there a tavern
under the sign of the Province Arms; and many a
distinguished traveller was destined to be entertained
for many a year at this Province Arms and its
successors. It had been the home residence of the De
Lanceys, built about 1700 by the father of
Lieutenant-Governor James De Lancey, and was deemed a
noble mansion. The Province Arms began its career with
two very brilliant public dinners: one to the new
English Governor, Sir Charles Hardy; the other upon
the laying of the corner-stone of King's College. A
grand function this was, and the Province Arms had
full share of honor. All the guests, from Governor to
students, assembled at the tavern, and proceeded to
the college grounds; they laid the stone and returned
to Landlord Willet's, where, says the chronicle,
"the usual loyal healths were drunk, and
Prosperity to the College; and the whole was conducted
with the utmost Decency and Propriety."
In 1763 the Province Arms had a new landlord,
George Burns, late of the King's Head in the
Whitehall, and ere that of the Cart and Horse. His
advertisements show his pretensions to good
housekeeping, and his house was chosen for a
lottery-drawing of much importance--one for the
building of the lighthouse at Sandy Hook. This lottery
was for six thousand pounds, and lighthouse and
lottery were special pets of Cadwallader Colden, then
President of his Majesty's Council. Lotteries were
usually drawn at City Hall, but just at that time
repairs were being made upon that building, so Mr.
Burns's long room saw this important event. The
lighthouse was built. The New York Magazine for 1790
has a picture and description of it. It is there
gravely stated that the light could be seen at a
distance of ten leagues, that is, thirty miles. As the
present light at Sandy Hook is officially registered
to be seen at fifteen miles' distance, the marvel of
our ancestors must have shone with "a light that
never was on land or sea."
Troublous times were now approaching. George
Burns's long room held many famous gatherings anent
the Stamp Act--at the first the famous Non-Importation
Agreement was signed by two hundred stout-hearted New
York merchants. Sons of Liberty drank and toasted and
schemed within the walls of the Province Arms.
Concerts and duels alternated with suppers and society
meetings; dancing committees and governors of the
college poured in and out of the Province Arms. In
1792 Peter De Lancey sold it to the Tontine
Association; the fine old mansion was torn down, and
the City Hotel sprang up in its place.
In the early half of the eighteenth century the
genteel New York tavern was that of Robert Todd,
vintner. It was in Smith (now William) Street between
Pine and Cedar, near the Old Dutch Church. The house
was known by the sign of the Black Horse. Concerts,
dinners, receptions, and balls took place within
its-elegant walls. On the evening of January 19, 1736,
a ball was therein given in honor of the Prince of
Wales's birthday. The healths of the Royal Family, the
Governor, and Council had been pledged loyally and
often at the fort through the day, and "the very
great appearance of ladies and gentlemen and an
elegant entertainment." at the ball fitly ended
the celebration. The ladies were said to be
"magnificent." The ball opened with French
dances and then proceeded to country dances,
"upon which Mrs. Morris led up to two new country
dances made upon the occasion, the first of which was
called the Prince of Wales, the second the Princes of
Saxe-Gotha."
The Black Horse was noted for its Todd drinks,
mainly composed of choice West India rum; and by
tradition it is gravely asserted that from these
delectable beverages was derived the old drinking term
"toddy." (Truth compels the accompanying
note that the word "toddy," like many of our
drinking names and the drinks themselves, came from
India, and the word is found in a geographical
description of India written in 1671, before Robert
Todd was born, or the Black Horse Tavern thought of.)
When Robert of toddy fame died, after nine years of
successful hospitality, his widow Margaret reigned in
his stead. She had a turn for trade, and advertised
for sale, at wholesale, fine wines and playing cards,
at reasonable rates. In 1750 the Boston Post made this
tavern its headquarters, but its glory of popularity
was waning and soon was wholly gone.
The better class of old-time taverns always had a
parlor. This was used as a sitting room for women
travellers, or might be hired for the exclusive use of
some wealthy person or family. It was not so jovial a
room as the taproom, though in winter a glowing fire
in the open fireplace gave to the formal furnishings
that look of good cheer and warmth and welcome which
is ever present, even in the meanest apartment, when
from the great logs the flames shot up and "the
old rude-furnished room burst flower-like into rosy
bloom." We are more comfortable now, with our
modern ways of house-heating, but our rooms do not
look as warm as when we had open fires. In the summer
time the fireplace still was an object of interest. A
poet writes:--
"'Tis summer now; instead of blinking flames
Sweet-smelling ferns are hanging o'er the grate.
With curious eyes I pore
Upon the mantel-piece with precious wares,
Glazed Scripture prints in black lugubrious frames,
Filled with old Bible lore;
The whale is casting Jonah on the shore:
Pharaoh is drowning in the curling wave.
And to Elijah sitting at his cave
The hospitable ravens fly in pairs
Celestial food within their horny beaks."
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