OLD TIMES - Recollections of an Old Resident of Brooklyn
BROOKLYN UNION ARGUS Thursday, 13 September 1877 OLD TIMES Recollections of an Old Resident of Brooklyn Turning Backward over Half a Century - The Cholera of 1832 in New York - When Property Now Worth Millions could have been Bought for $1,000 Some interesting reminiscences of the early days of this city and New York were presented in a recent conversation between an old resident of Brooklyn and a reporter of this journal. The old gentleman referred to from whom the items of local history found below were gathered is still hale and hearty, more active than many a young man of these days of artificial locomotion, has a memory remarkable for its accuracy and evincing the possession of keen powers of observation all through life, and a cheerful habit of mind which shows itself in frequent humorous interruptions of his narrative. Speaking of his first coming to this city, then and for many years afterwards a simple village, he said: My parents settled in Brooklyn in 1815 and though I was very young I remember the night of the day when peace was proclaimed, and a grand night it was! The moon shone like polished silver and the air was bitter cold, but not a soul retired to rest; for there was joy in very household that the cruel war was over. I began to work for a living first at Raymond's fur factory, then at the foot of Fulton street. I received two shillings a day after the first week. That looks small in these times, but in those times it was tremendous wages for a lad. My apprenticeship was served with Thomas A. RONALDS, stationer and bookbinder, in Pearl street, New York, with whom I remained seven years. During that time, about 1820, THE FIRE DEPARTMENT Was organized over there, and I joined Engine 42, making the sixth man on it. We had a foreman, assistant foreman, secretary, treasurer, steward and high private. I was the high private. William HAWK was one of ours. His father was drowned in the freshet during the hurricane of 1822. That was a terrible time. The ruin and desolation were almost indescribable. The chimneys for blocks and blocks were cut off clean to the roofs; not a brick left. You will see today on all the old houses how the chimneys are bound together with iron bars. That was the result of precautions taken after the hurricane experience. It was "locking the stable door after the horse was stolen;" but there was a new horse inside. The first brick building ever moved in this region was moved about this time. Maiden lane was widened then, and this house stood next to the corner of Gold street and Maiden lane. The contractor was to move it back some distance; if he did it successfully he was to get ten thousand dollars for the job; and if he injured the building in the operation , he was to forfeit twenty thousand dollars. He did the job to perfection as you may judge when I tell you that the family and all their valuables remained inside, and when the job was done there wasn't a thing disturbed. Even a glass that stood between the two windows in the third story was found undisturbed when they got through. The thing was talked of in the public press of the day. About this same period a bad fire occurred in Maiden lane, and one member of Engine 40, and the Assistant Foreman of No. 1, whose apparatus was not at the fire were so badly hurt that they died. They had a grand funeral on the following Sunday. THE CHOLERA BROKE OUT Here and in New York in 1832. John Y. CEBRA was Alderman of the First Ward in New York at that time. He was a great wag and universally liked. After the cholera had been raging awhile the city authorities began to move in the matter. Something had to be done to ameliorate the condition of the people. There was no business to be done. A general scramble to get away from the fearful plague took place down town, and you could walk for blocks without meeting a soul. The air was full of pestilence and the smell of the dead was horrible. The butchers around Fulton Market first started away and then others followed, until every soul except those that could not leave was gone. At that time I lived at 111 Water street, next door to Mrs. MILLER's tobacco factory. John R. SOPER was appointed as a sort of city agent to alleviate public suffering. The sick had to be attended to and the dead buried, and doctors and undertakers and ministers generally were no to be had. CEBRA gave me a letter to SOPER as a man that could and would help him through. I accepted the mission and worked right through with Mr. SOPER. He asked if I wasn't afraid of the cholera. I said "When our time comes the cholera will take us, and we can't get away from it; it is no use to be afraid." From Wall street to the Battery there were houses and houses with not a soul in them. The "New York Courier" was published then and during the worst of the plague they GAVE IT AWAY So as to inform the public of what they ought to know, for they couldn't come down town. The Old Jail, now the Hall of Records, was used as a hospital. July 6, 1832, while I was there, one of the nurses was telling me about a number of hats he had from dead patients, which he was going to sell for me. I went off to Potter's Field with a load of dead, and when I came back that evening I had to stretch him out in a box, too. He had caught the disease and died in my absence. The next day while I was driving the wagon through Liberty street, I saw as fine a looking lady as you could wish to see, and she was the very picture of despair. I was touched by her appearance and hauled up the wagon and asked what was wrong. She said her husband had just died of cholera, and she begged me to get her a coffin and a minister. I told her it was impossible to get her a minister, but I promised to get her a coffin, which I ordered from James McMAHON in Pearl street. Meantime, I put the body in our pine box, and , lady as she was she helped me do it. During this period I visited a three story house in a small street near the Battery and there found a large number of dead, and 208 more or less affected by the same disease. The cholera was in Brooklyn, too; but my work lay in New York. BUT TO COME BACK TO BROOKLYN I remember well the great fire that occurred among the ropewalks in 1817. They were located in Concord, Adams and other streets of that region. A fearful fight took place there between two of the fire companies; but that sort of thing is all done away with now. I remember well "old Daddy Pierrepont," as we used to call him. He had a splendid orchard in the neighborhood of Fulton and Pineapple streets, and many a time he chased me with a whip for going after his fruit - and didn't catch me. I received a legacy of about $1,000 about the time I got married, and he had heard of it and wanted me to buy some of his land. He offered me for the $1,000 the whole water front back to Columbia street and extending from where the "tea-water pump" stood, near Carey's building on Furman street down to State street. I wouldn't take it, though, and old "daddy" said: "Young man, you'll live to regret that you didn't take my offer." Well, it's worth something more to-day. "Yes," said the old gentleman, "my memory goes back over a period much beyond your life and the life of most residents of Brooklyn today. The face of this city has changed considerably since I was a boy flying over old 'Daddy' PIERREPONT's fences to escape the snapper of his whip. He was a good old fellow and liberal enough, and he used to say 'Come up to the house and ask for what you want, take all the fruit you can eat, but don't you steal anything.' But boys will be boys, as 'old Pam' said when they caught him kissing the chambermaid behind the door. I can remember as far back as sixty years ago; that's far enough for you, isn't it? When peace was proclaimed between Great Britain and the United States in 1815, my parents were in Easton, Pa., and the night of the proclamation there was not a pane of glass in any window that was not illuminated. Soon after that we came back to Brooklyn, which was a small place then. York street did not run out as far as it does now. The house we lived in was on the angle in the middle of York and Washington streets. There was nothing but a narrow cartway running in a zigzag direction. After we moved out of it the house was turned around facing the river. Before that it faced to where the City Hall is now. Several years after it was demolished, and the front part was made a portion of the fence of a coal yard on the corner of Front and York streets. Probably there are not a hundred people living now that remember anything about it. There was then quite a large number of hills between what is now Washington street and the Navy Yard. On one of these there stood then and for a number of years afterwards a place called THE GRECIAN GARDEN. I believe the building is still standing, but in the course of time it was lowered down considerably in the grading of the streets. I think the back of it now faces on what is now called Plymouth avenue. "After remaining in Brooklyn for a time we moved over to New York again; but we used to come to Brooklyn a great deal. How did we come? Well, sometimes by a small boat; sometimes by a horse-boat. The horse didn't precisely walk across, but he walked us across. He went around and around, working a paddle wheel in the centre of the boat. The Fultonian invention was not in operation here then. I remember as we used to come over every Sunday morning noticing a woman in a one-story-and-attic house now where a tea store is kept, I believe. She used to be always leaning on her elbows at the window, gaping at passers by. We have many of that sort of woman nowadays. In those days, McComber's Gardens, or as it was then called, the Black Horse Garden, was bounded by Fulton, DeKalb, and Hudson; and there the people used to go in great numbers. There were all manner of contrivances in it to furnish amusement for visitors, and it was a popular resort. I think the old house is near a tavern - that is, what was once a portion of the Black Horse Hotel. Before you reached the place you came to a grave-yard. It was on Fulton avenue, almost opposite where Bridge street comes out now. In those days there was also a pond on the southerly side of Fulton avenue just about where Flatbush avenue begins. It was at times a great annoyance to people who wished to go to Flatbush by the unmacadamized way. I am speaking now of about the year 1821 to 1822. The last time we had THE YELLOW FEVER here was in 1822, and the time I refer to was prior to that. After the yellow fever broke out, a large fire occurred somewhere in the region of Clark and Henry, or Middagh and Columbia streets. The old floating engine belonging to New York came over to help us. She ran her hose up the high hill, and served the engine companies which put out the fire. She was worked by men with a big iron bar. There was some doubt about the existence of this floating engine until I produced the documents to prove it when the history of the old New York Fire Department was compiled. These records I have consist of the original certificate of membership of my father-in-law and his discharge as a fireman of the engine company, and the proceedings of the Common Council in recognition of his integrity, ability, etc., and also a boatman's call or whistle presented to him by the Common Council in recognition of his services. I produced these records and supplied the missing link in the history of the Fire Department from its foundation to its disbandment. "How far up from the river did the built up portion of Brooklyn extend in those days? Well, not very far. There was not a house then on the front of the Heights down to the water except the old Eagle Tavern, and that stood on piles nearly opposite what is now Pierrepont street. When you got up in the neighborhood of where the Brooklyn Theatre used to stand, you were quite out of town, and where Carey's buildings are now on Fulton street, from Pineapple up towards Montague, was old Mr. PIERREPONT's farm; and many's the time that I and others have been raced out of there by the old gentleman with a horsewhip. I thought nothing of scaling a fence on the jump in those days. His farm extended all the way down to the river front, up to Fulton street, on one side , and I think to Montague street on the another. In fact there was NOTHING BUT FARMS in that part of the city then. Where the Court House is now was John DUFLON's Hotel. He was Chief Engineer of the village Fire Department at the time. I think his son is now in the Sheriff's Office. The same hotel was afterward kept by Madame PRESTE for several years, and when I came to live permanently in Brooklyn - that was in 1843 - there were a great many balls held there, and I used to go to them, too, for I could shake a foot in those day with anyone. It was a popular place then and many of the best class of people attended them. I remember one time during a big party there that John FOLKS sought to play a joke on me, and told me that there was something wrong in the cellar and got me to go down there to set it right. When I got down, the rogue locked the door on me. But I played as good a one on him, for while he thought he had me fast I came up through the coal bin and got through a little window and went up stairs, and when I called out to him he came up and was astonished to find me there. We had a great deal of fun in that old place. But after Mrs. PRESTE left it, the old house was torn down and reconstructed elsewhere, but I forget the spot. However, there was nothing more put up there until the Court House was erected. At the time I speak of there was a building put up by SNEDIKER as a livery stable along on Boerum street in that neighborhood. Mrs. PRESTE's hotel had more frontage than the Court House, and there was a garden in the rear with booths, walks and so on, for the pleasure of the guests. Upstairs the ball room was kept. "Going back towards the river, THE CAREY BUILDINGS were then all wood; but after the great fire of September 4, 1848, when they were swept away they were rebuilt of brick as you can see today. That fire began in the building next to the corner of Fulton and Middagh streets, where DREW kept a bedding store. It swept across Fulton street and destroyed many buildings. Crawford SMITH kept a grocery store at that time on Fulton street, three or flour doors above Middagh; and Andrew HUGGS, the Coroner, kept a coffin store in the neighborhood. But they were all burned out. Henry C. MURPHY's house was in Concord street, near Liberty, and I and two others with the Chief Engineer put two kegs of powder in it and blew it up to stop the progress of the fire. That checked it in that particular place, but the sparks were carried away up the street by the wind, and many buildings a long way off caught fire. "Dominie JOHNSON's church, on the corner of Johnson and Washington streets, took fire several times, but we put it out every time and saved the edifice. The Chief Engineer at the time was Burdett STRYKER, recently Alderman of the Fourth Ward. I worked all night at that fire; and I remember borrowing a chisel from a locksmith and bellhanger who lived on Henry street above Middagh, near where the old Firemen's Hall now stands; and it was strange, that chisel was the only tool saved out of all his stock. I do not recollect his name just now, but it was George something - however, after the fire, the people elected him Sheriff. "In 1850, pretty much all the buildings on Adams and Fulton streets, almost up to Myrtle avenue, were raised up by timbers being placed under them, but before they were finished a fire occurred and destroyed the whole of them, catching first on the timbers underneath. William H. CAREY was the first to erect large buildings. The courts were then MOVED UP TO THE NEW CITY HALL and that gave a fresh impulse to that part of the city. But there were comparatively few stores, except provisions and that sort of thing, in the city in those days, and almost everything needed was bought in New York. There was then in the early days a little board fence in place of the present Navy Yard wall. I think the wall was put up in 1835. "Going back still further again in 1820, we used to land from New York in small boats generally, at a kind of dock at the foot of Fulton street. It ran from near where the ferry-house is now to about fifty feet back, where there was a pump. You had to go up a little rise in the ground to get water, good water. The old 'tea-water" pump was situated about 150 feet from Fulton street, near the Furman street line. It was called by that name on account of the peculiar taste of the water, which was very cols and clear, and so pleasant that everybody used to rush up to get a drink of it as soon as they landed. "Mr. PIERREPONT's house, in the early days, was situated somewhere in the vicinity of what is now called Columbia Heights - on his farm, of course - but I can't say that I remember the precise location. However, I suppose I have talked enough of old Brooklyn for the present." Transcriber Carole Dilley RETURN to PEOPLE MAIN RETURN to BROOKLYN MAIN