Free and Other Stories
.pdfWHEN THE OLD CENTURY WAS NEW
When William Walton, of Colonial prestige, left his father's house, St George's Square, New York, in the spring of 1801, it was to spend a day of social activity, which, in the light of his ordinary commercial duties, might be termed idleness. There were, among other things, a luncheon at the Livingstone Kortright's, a stroll with one Mlle. Cruger to the Lispenard Meadows, and a visit in the evening to the only recently inaugurated Apollo Theater, where were organized the first permanent company of players ever transported to America. Under the circumstances, he had no time for counting-house duties, and had accordingly decided to make a day of it, putting the whole matter of commerce over until such time as he could labor uninterrupted, which was to-morrow.
As he came out of the door over which was a diamondpane lunette for a transom, he was a striking example of the new order of things which had come with the Declaration of Independence and the victory of the colonies over the British. Long trousers of light twilled cloth encased his legs, and were fastened under his shoes by straps. A flower-ornamented pink waistcoat and light blue dress coat of broadcloth, shared with brass buttons, yellow gloves, and an exceedingly narrowbrimmed silk hat, in giving his appearance that touch of completeness which the fashion of the day demanded. In the face of those of the older order, who still maintained the custom of
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wearing knee breeches and solemn, black waistcoats, he was a little apt to appear the exaggerated dandy; but, nevertheless, it was good form. My Madame Kortright would expect it at any luncheon of hers, and the common people knew it to be the all-desirable whenever wealth permitted.
In lower Pearl Street, below Wall, which direction he took to reach the Bowling Green and the waterfront, he encountered a number of the fashionable, so far as the commercial world was concerned, who were anything but idle like himself.
«Why, Master Walton, are you neglecting business so early in the morning?» inquired Robert Goelet, whose iron-mon- gering business was then the most important in the city.
«For this day only,» returned Walton, smiling agreeably at the thought of a pleasant day to come. «Several engagements make it unavoidable.»
«You are going to the Collect, then, possibly?» returned Goelet, looking in the direction of the old water reservoir, where all of the city's drinking supply was stored.
«No,» said the other, «I had not thought of it. What is there?»
«Some one, I understand, who has a boat he wishes to try. It is said to go without sail. I should think one with as many ships upon the water as you have would have heard of any such invention as that.»
«Ah, yes,» answered young Walton, «I have heard of men who are going to sail in the air, also. I will believe that a vessel can go without sail when I see it.»
«Well,» said the other, «I do not know. These inventors are strange adventurers, at best, but there might be no harm in looking at it. I think I shall go myself later.»
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«Oh, I should also like to see it,» said the other, «providing I have time. When is it to sail, do you know?»
«About eleven,» answered Goelet. «The Post tells of it.» «Many thanks for the information,» returned the other,
and, with a few commonplaces as to ships expected and the news from France, they betook their separate ways.
In one of the many fine yards which spread before the old mansions below Wall Street, he beheld John Adams, the new- ly-elected President of the States, busy among his flowers. The elder statesman bowed gravely to the younger gentleman and returned to his work.
«A fine gentleman,» thought the latter, «and well worthy to be the chief of this good government.»
As he neared the Bowling Green, he observed that there was no one of the many residents about taking advantage of the pleasant sunlight to enjoy an hour at that favorite pastime, and so continued his way to the Astor docks adjoining the Whitehall slip, where never yet had the commercial New Yorker, interested in the matter of shipping, failed to find a crowd. Messrs. John Jacob Astor and William Van Rensalaer were already upon the ground, as he could see at a distance, the distinct high hat of the one and the portly figure of the other standing out in clear relief against the green waters of the bay. Elder Johannis Coop was there, he of the vast ship chandlery business, and Opdyke Stewart, importer of the finest stuffs woven in Holland. Old Jacob Cruger and Mortimer Morris, the lean Van Tassel and Julius van Brunt, merchants all and famous men of the city, chatted, smiled, and laughed together as they discussed the probabilities of trade and the arrival of the Silver Spray and the Laughing Mary, both in the
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service between New York and Liverpool. Almost every worthy present was armed with his spy-glass, as the three-foot telescopes were then called, and now and then one would take a look down the bay and through the distant narrows to see if any sign of a familiar sail were present.
«And how is Master Walton?» asked the elder Astor, recognizing the scion of the one exceedingly wealthy family of the community.
«Very well, thank you,» returned the other, surveying the company, whose knee breeches and black coats presented a striking contrast to his modern trousers and fancy jacket.
«These modern fashions,» exclaimed Cruger, the elder, coming forward, «make us old fellows seem entirely out of date. They are a wretched contrivance to hide the legs. If I were a young woman I would have no man whose form I could not judge by his clothes.»
«And if I were a young man,» put in the jovial John Jacob, «I would put on no clothes which a young woman did not approve of.»
«Ah, well,» said the other, smiling, «these fashions are strange contrivances. Not ten years since a man would have been drummed out of New York had he appeared in such finery as this, and now, by heaven, it is we old fellows who are like to be shown the door for dressing as our fathers taught us.»
«Not so bad as that, surely,» said Walton. «Full dress commands the old style yet at evening. This is but daylight custom. But how about the Bowling Green; is no one to play there this morning?»
«Not when two ships like the Silver Spray and the Laughing Mary are like to show their noses at any moment,» observed
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Cruger stoutly. «I have fifty barrels of good India ale on the Silver Spray. Astor, here, has most of the hold of the Laughing Mary filled with his dress goods. No bowling when stocks must be unpacked quickly.»
«It is a weary watch, this, for these dogged vessels,» added Astor reflectively. «There is no good counting wind or wave. The Spaniard, too, is not dead yet, worse luck to him.»
«I saw that about the Polly,» said young Walton interestedly. «Perhaps the government will wake up now to our situation. The Spaniard can wipe our vessels off the seas and hide behind the piracy idea. We need more war vessels and that quickly, I think.»
«And I, too,» said Astor. «But we are like to have them now. Only to-day Congress voted to buy more land across the East River there,» and he waved his spy-glass in the direction of the green outlines of Long Island.
«And that reminds me,» said Walton, pulling out his timepiece by the fob attached to it; «I but now met Goelet, who says there is to be a boat tried at the Collect which goes without sail. It is to be run by steam.»
«Ha!» exclaimed Cruger, have no time for such nonsense.» «I heard of it,» remarked Astor. «Possibly there is some-
thing to it. There could be no harm in going to see.»
«I am going,» said Walton, «and by-the-bye, it is high time I was on my way.»
«And if you have no objection I go with you,» said Astor, who was seriously interested to know if there was anything to this idea or not. Others hearing this joined them.
Having thus secured companionship, young Walton proceeded up the Whitehall slip to the Bowling Green, whence,
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with his friends, he now turned into the Broadway, and so out past the fine residences and occasional stores of that new thoroughfare to the old White residence, where later was to be White Street, and thence eastward, across the open common, to the Collect, where is now the Tombs. Quite a formidable company of sightseers had gathered, the aristocracy, gentry, and common rabble forming in separate groups. A very plain and homely looking individual of the older school, clad in swallowtail and knee breeches, was there with a contrivance large enough to sustain his own weight in the water, which he was endeavoring with a wrench, a hammer, and an oil can to put in final shape for the very important experiment of traveling without sail. Naturally he had the undivided and even pushing and prying attention of all present.
While the citizens thus gazed, awaiting in comfortable idleness for something of the marvelous to happen, there came a clattering sound along the east road toward the city, where suddenly appeared the outlines of Van Huicken's water wagon, a great hogshead on wheels, which, by its rumbling haste, suggested fire. Close after followed the Almerich, another vehicle of the same kind, which secured its name from its owner. Both drivers hailed the crowd while yet a distance off with shouts of «Fire!» and then from distant Fulton Street were heard the sounds of a bell tolling out the same intelligence.
Everybody now wavered uncertainly between the possibility of witnessing a marvelous invention and the certainty of seeing a splendid conflagration, with the result that certainty triumphed. Instantly upon learning the nature of the fire, both commonry and gentry departed, leaving Astor and Walton,
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with their associates, gazing at the tinkering wonder-worker alone.
«That must be near the President's house,» observed Walton, who was looking toward the city. «It may spread.»
«This fellow will get nothing out of his machine to-day, I fear,» returned Astor, moved by the thought of a dangerous and yet interesting fire as he gazed rather unfavorably upon the quiet inventor, who had not remained unaware of this public defection. «Let us go back.»
With somewhat more of eagerness than was conformable with their general stately bearing, this rather important local company now took up the trail of the water wagons and returned.
In William Street, just off the Old Boston Road and near the newly-named Liberty Street, were many signs of public excitement. The fine residence of the Athorps, recently leased by the French minister, had taken fire, and was rapidly burning. Although nine of the fourteen water-pumps of the city were upon the scene of action, and eight men were toiling at each handle, little progress was making. Bucket brigades were also in operation, the volunteer citizens drawing upon every well in the neighborhood for blocks about; but to small result. The flames gained apace. Men ran looking for Goiter's water conveyance, which had not yet been pressed into action, and Huicken's Broadway sprinkler, which, however, had already been sent to the Collect for more water. There was a deal of clatter and confusion, coupled with the absolute certainty of destruction, for no pumping could throw the water beyond the second story. More than once the tank supply, as rattled forward from the Collect and the East River, was totally sus-
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pended, while the flames gained new ground. This latter was due to the badness of the roads and the inadequacy of the help at the supply end, where, since all thought to gaze upon the fire, none were remaining to help the lone Huicken or the energetic Goiter.
When this last company of volunteer fire fighters arrived, with their buckets and other contrivances for fighting a blaze, the flames had gained such headway that there was little to be done. Walton wasted half an hour discussing fire protection, and then bethought himself of his luncheon engagement.
«I must be out of this,» he said to Astor, as they stood gazing upon the flames and the surging throng. «I am late as it is.»
The genial forefather scarcely heard him at all. So interested was he that his own luncheon mattered not at all. Quietly Walton withdrew then, and getting back into Boston Road and the Broadway, betook himself toward the Bowling Green and Madame Kortright's.
That lady's mansion was to the west of the old playground, looking out over lawn and lane to some space of water to be seen in the East River and a boat or two at anchor in the bay. As he tapped upon the broad door with its brazen knocker, a liveried servant opened to him, bowing profoundly in greeting.
«Will Master Walton give me his hat and gloves?»
«Ah, Master Walton,» remarked the hostess, who now entered smiling. «I had almost doubted your punctuality, though you have good reason. Whose house is it burning?»
«Count Rennay's,» answered Walton, mentioning the French representative to our government.
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