AVERY ARCHITECTURAL AND FINE ARTS LIBRARY Gift of Seymour B. Durst Old York Library Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2014 http://archive.org/details/viewsinnewyorkitOOfayt IMTSMSIIKI) BY eEABOPif * Co.,233 BROADWAY. ( Opposite- llif i'iii-k.) O RICH. N" 12. RED -I. I OK SQUARE TO PHILIP HONE, Esq THIS WORK IS, BY PERMISSION, RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, BY THE PUBLISHERS. INTRODUCTION. The Proprietors of "Views in New York and its Environs," do not deem anji apology necessary for offering them, at this time, to the public. There are many obvious reasons why Literature and the Arts in the United States, have not equalled those of older countries : but the restraints upon their progress are annually becoming less important. The excuses, behind which we have so long sheltered ourselves from the observations of foreign critics, will soon be inapplicable to our situation: we shall not always be an infant country; and, if we ever intend to develope our materials and talents, instead of depending exclu- sively upon those of our trans-atlantic brethren, this seems to be the proper period. Commerce has enriched the land — education is broadly diffused, and the vigorous hardihood and simplicity of a youthful nation are already giving place to the refine- ments of wealth and luxury. The capital which has hitherto rushed impetuously through the channels of business, will now flow in pursuit of elegance and pleasure, and may be easily directed to the cultivation of the Arts and Sciences. There is nothing to prevent our constructing a National Literature, under the influence of which the Arts will flourish most successfully, but a tame admission, not only of present inferiority, but of an incapacity to improve. iv. The enlightened policy of our government leads us far from the gory track of war. Instead of courting the dangerous triumphs of foreign conquests, it teaches us the advantage of cultivating our own internal resources. We enjoy the most friend- ly relations with every people on the globe. Our ancient battle-fields, overgrown with the golden harvest, are the undisturbed possessions of the husbandman. The cannon's rude throat is silent among us, or only speaks in token of our happiness. Instead of soldiers and heroes, we have poets, orators and artists, with leisure to pursue the occupations of peace. Under these circumstances, the patronage of a discriminating public may be confidently anticipated for works similar to that which at present engages our at- tention. Actuated by a hope that the subject is happily chosen, the proprietors flatter themselves that their endeavors to render it interesting, will not be altogether un- successful. NEW YORK, JUNE, 1831. NEW YORK AND ITS ENVIRONS. CHAPTER I . "Trade anil joy, in every busy street, Mingling are heard : Even drudgery himself, As at the car he sweats, or dusky hews The palace-stone, looks gay. Thy crowded port?, Where rising masts an endless prospect yield, With labor burn, and echo to the shouts ' Of hurried sailor, as he hearty waves His last adieu, and loosening every sheet, Resigns the spreading vessel to the wind." [ Thomson. When the renowned Captain Hcndrick Hudson, in the year 1609, sailed through the Narrows, and approached the Island of Manahatta, he beheld a solitude almost as deep as that of the primeval ages. His vessel penetrated into the broad Bay — breaking in upon the wide loneliness of nature, and heralding a mighty people into the recesses of a new world. It was in the full bloom of summer. The shores were covered with forests; massive grape vines were wreathed like serpents among the branches of the aged trees, and their purple fruit hung clustering in the sun. The song of innumerable birds came from the land, and along the wave glid- ed the rapid Indian canoe. The island itself, now occupied by the city represented in the first engraving,' was of a wild and rough aspect. The waves dashed over a broken and rocky beach, which was indented with deep inlets, while the interior was covered with swamps, hills, ponds, and thick forests. What emotions would rise in the bosom of the worthy navigator, could he revisit the scene of his early adventure ! There are few spectacles at once more grateful and more magnificent to the weary wanderer over the ocean, than that which rises up before him, like a 6 lovely dream, as he passes the Narrows, and is wafted by fair breezes towards the city of New York. The green shores of Long and Staten Islands, within less than a quarter of a mile of each other, slope down to the water's edge, and form the gates of the harbor. When " radiant summer opens all her pride," they are clothed with the luxuriant harvest, and dotted with dwellings of peace and plenty. A vast city with its bristling forest of masts and spires, rises suddenly in the distance, sending forth the hum of more than two hundred thousand in- habitants. He inhales the mingled perfumes which the wind bears from wood and field, from vallies of clover, and gardens of flowers. Immense steamboats, superior to any other in the world, plough the waters around him, and shape their steady course in different directions ; and ships, with white sails spread, are returning, storm-beaten, from their perilous voyages, or hurrying forth, through the narrow outlet, to distant quarters of the globe. Forts command the prominent stations, and vessels of war, like castles, are resting on the wave. Perhaps no situation could be chosen for a more advantageous survey of the city, with its surrounding scenery, than that part of the Bay adjoining Governor's Island, and near the fort, a portion of which appears on the extreme left of the picture, and whence the present view was taken. The opening discernible on the right, is the . passage termed the East River, leading from the Bay into the Sound, between Long and York Islands, and thence along the shores of Connecticut and Rhode Island, into the Atlantic. The eye can almost pierce to that point of the strait entitled Hurl Gate, but, by the lov- ers of the marvellous, dignified with an appellation which would seem to conduct the traveller into a region of a very different description from the pleasant hills and orchards, the costly dwellings, and the humble but bright looking cottages, that make the banks of this stream a succession of charming pictures. The small promontory jutting out on the eastern side, represents that part of Long Island occupied by the village of Brooklyn and the Navy Yard. On the left, the eye seeks to explore the windings of the Hudson or North River. In many respects this stream may be considered one of the most impor- tant in the world. It is effected by the tide more than a hundred and sixty miles towards its source. Its steamboat navigation is unobstructed, and it presents 1 facilities for commerce of an extraordinary and tempting nature. The magnificent canal, which strikes it at Albany, connects the city of New York with Lake Erie, and thence with the interior and most western portion of the Union. This stupendous work, which directly augments the prosperity of more than two mil- lions of people, is but a single branch in the vast plan of internal improve- ment, of which Dewitt Clinton was the most influential promoter, and which equally associates his name with the glory of the state, and the increasing im- portance of the city. We cannot regard the point where this lordly river pours its silver waters into the bay, without a strong desire to follow our imagination through the pic- turesque and romantic scenery which decorates its winding banks, and which is inteiwoven with some of the most interesting incidents of the American revolu- tion, but we must be content to call the attention of the reader to that pleasant summer resort in the State of New Jersey, called Hoboken, which is dimly vis- ible in the distance over the fort adjoining the city. To this verdant and re- freshing spot the citizens flock in throngs, to escape the dust, noise, and heat of the town, during the prevalence of the summer sun, and here to enjoy the social party, or when "the soft hour Of walking comes: for him who lonely loves To seek the distant hills, and there converse With nature ;" the fancy of the poet, painter, or lover, could scarcely desire a scene more beautiful. At all times the view of the metropolis of the State is imposing; but should the stranger approach it at the close of a pleasant summer day, ho would find the scene yet more enchanting. At this period the bustle of business is superseded by the voice of pleasure. As he draws near the Battery, he per- ceives that the fort has changed its martial character, and been metamorphosed into a garden and pleasant promenade. The stillness of the evening is sometimes broken by the sound of the rushing rocket, as it darts into the spangled heaven, illuminating the scene with a glare of temporary radiance, and sometimes by bursts of music, softened by the distance, as it floats over the placid water. Now you may hear the dram from Governor's Island, and now the song of the sailor 2 8 from the distant ship, which is preparing again to encounter the perils of the deep; while the regular dash of the oar, as some occasional boat glides by, add* to the charm of the music, and increases the interest of the scene. At such a time, while the eye dwells upon the mass of buildings which com- pose the thriving city of Manahatta, we cannot forego the pride and pleasure of rejoicing that the thousands within her limits have no great national cause for mourning. They are convulsed with no awful revolution — they cringe beneath no despotic power — they dread no foreign foe. Freedom, peace, and plenty are m their dwellings, and their destiny is as unclouded as the glorious vault of heaven which stretches with all its stars above their heads. In the second plate, the spectator is supposed to stand near the south-east corner of the Park, with his face towards the Battery. From this position, two prominent buildings meet his view. The large and showy edifice on the left, recently erected by Mr. F. Olmstead, is occupied, as a Museum, by Mr. Scudder. It forms a fair specimen of that system of improvement which, within a few years, has to so great an extent changed the aspect of the city. Groups of dilapidated wooden hovels, intersected by dark, narrow, and filthy lanes, the abode of squalid misery, are continually passing away, and giving place to broad- ened streets and lofty mansions. This appearance of cheerfulness, splendor, and beauty, where the eye has been accustomed to gloom and decay, strikes the mind like the rapidity of dramatic scenery, where a robber's cave, or a wintry prospect, is suddenly metamorphosed into a kingly palace, or a garden of bloom- ing flowers. The present arsenal, in Elm Street, once stood on an island, and there are persons at present in the city who remember to have seen a fiekl of wheat waving in the breeze, on the spot where now rise the graceful co- lumns and lofty spire of St. Paul's Chapel, in the right of the picture. This fine structure is esteemed the best specimen of architecture in the city. It was first opened for divine service on the 30th of October, 1776, and has always belonged to the parish of Trinity Church. It is principally constructed of gray stone, and is of the Corinthian order. Beneath the portico is a monument, erected to the memory of General Montgomery, who was killed at the storming of Quebec ; and in the large cemetery in the rear is one to the memory of the French General, Rochfontaine, who fought in the service of the United States during the revolution, and died in this city in 1814. The celebrated tragedian, George F. 9 Cooke, also here reposes in death, within a short distance of the spot where his brilliant bursts of genius were greeted with the acclamations of thousands, many of whom, perchance, lie by his side. Passing down Broadway, we approach the scene represented in plate third. Here we find one of the few green spots which the negligence of our ancestors has left for the health and ornament of our metropolis. This beautiful circle of verdure is ihe Bowling Green, which derives its name from having been originally appropri- ated, as a place of amusement, to the game of "bowles." It is celebrated as the spat selected by the whigs for the scene of one of their most patriotic achievements. On the sixth of November, in the year 1765, the day on which the notorious Stamp Act was to go into operation, the people assembled, took out the gover- nor's carriage, dragged it to the common, (the present Park) and there, upon a gallants, suspended his effigy, having in his right hand a stamped bill of lading, and in his left the figure of a personage not to be "named to ears polite." After it had hiing for some time, they bore it, with the gallows and carriage, to the Bowling Green, where they burnt the whole, amidst the general applause of a very large audience. This enclosure was originally designed to protect an equestrian figure of George III., which, however, was prostrated soon after the declaration of indepen- dence. The pediment has been much more recently removed. It is to be hoped that the spot may be ornamented with a statue of Washington. Such a design has for a long time been a topic of conversation. Broadway, which commences at this point, extends nearly three miles in a northerly direction. It is slightly undulated, and, except the graceful sweep of buildings by the Bowling Green, forms a straight line to Thirteenth Street. The last engraving to which we shall solicit the attention of the reader in this number, is a very correct delineation of the American Hotel, in Broadway, on the corner of Barclay Street. This commanding establishment faces the Park, and is in the immediate vicinity of the Theatre. On the same side of the street are dis- covered the elegant store of Messrs. Peabody & Co., the proprietors of the present work, and adjoining, the mansion of Philip Hone, Esq., to whom it is dedicated. In closing our brief and cursory survey, we are again impressed with surprise at the revolutions which have taken place in the city within the memory of many yet 10 alive. We continually meet the venerable relics of the last generation, who recount strange things of the old town of Manahatta. Such an one, as he totters along, with silver head and feeble 6teps, through the scenes of splendor which have arisen so unexpectedly around him, is full of curious but mournful recollections. He lingers over the past with mingled pride, regret, and wonder. He speaks of canals; swamps, and ponds long since filled up; of lanes and commons which live only in his remembrance ; of hills now levelled ; forests cut down ; and bridges forgotten, with the streams which they crossed. Of a thousand of the gay and the beau- tiful he will point out the graves — he will tell you that even the magnificence which has thus grown up under his eye, only makes him feel like a stranger; all his old haunts are broken up, his friends have passed away, and he murmurs with the poet, "Earth encloses them. The graes grows between the etones of their tomb. I often sit in the mournful shade. The wind-sighs through the trees. Their memory rushes on my mind." CHAPTER It. " And as he considered it more attentively, he fancied that the great volume of smoke assumed a variety of forms, where in dim obscurity he saw shadowed out palaces, and domes, and lofty spires, all of which lasted but a moment, until the*' whole rolled off, and nothing but the green woods were left. And when St. Nicholas had smoked his pipe, he twisted it in his hat-band, and laying his finger beside hi3 nose, gave the astonished Van Kortlandt a very significant look ; then, mounting his wagon, he returned over the tree tops and disappeared. - " * * * " * * • * ' * . • "And Van Kortlandt awoke from his sleep greatly instructed, and related his dream, and interpreted it, that it was the will of St. Nicholas that they should settle down and build the city here." [Diedrich Knickerbocker. It is both curious and amusing to trace the progress of the city of New York from its early insignificance to its present importance and character. In sixteen hundred and fifty three it was secured against sudden attacks of the aborigines by "a great wall of earth and stones, running between Wall and Pine Streets, from the North to the East River." A gate, near the present corner of Wall and Pearl Streets, was called the Water Gate, and another, in Broadway, the Land Gate. The striking changes in its physical appearance have been accompanied by revolutions, equally remarkable, in the spirit of the laws, and the manners of the people. On the sixth of June, of the same year, the Directors of the West India Company, at Amsterdam, "granted liberty to particular merchants to send two or three ships to the Coast of Africa, to purchase slaves, and to promote the settle- ment of the country by importing the same." In sixteen hundred and seventy five we find the "watch set at eight o'clock every evening, after ringing of the bell, and the city gates locked up at nine, and opened again at daylight. No cursing and swearing permitted." About this time the Common Council refused the petition of the Jews for liberty to exer- cise their religion. 3 12 The ignorance of our ancestors respecting the destiny of the city is every where visible in the careless irregularity with which they suffered it to grow up around them, and the frequent sales and grants of lands which they permitted upon the most trifling considerations. We find, for example, in the records of the Common Council, a vote that " all the lands in front of the Vly, from the Block House to Mr. Beekman's, should be sold: that from the Block House to the Green Lane, or Maagde Padtje, (now Maiden Lane,) be valued at five and twenty shillings per foot." The word Vly is an abbreviation of Valey, or Valley, and was in use among the Dutch to denote a Marsh, or Salt Meadow. The Vly or Fly Market, destroyed on the building of "the Fulton Market, was sur- rounded by a Salt Meadow, and distinguished as the Market in the Marsh. In seventeen hundred and thirty four the Battery was ordered to be "kept clear of houses from Whitehall to Eeld's corner," now Marketfield Street. It was about this period that cartmen were forbidden to ride on their carts, and enjoined to behave civilly to all; the Governor was publicly congratulated upon his return in safety from a voyage to Albany ; the whole of Staten Island was sold to the Dutch by the Indians for ten shirts, thirty pair of stockings, ten guns, thirty bars of lead, thirty pounds of powder, some hoes, kettles, knives, and awls ; and to a quere in council, " whether or not attornies are useful to plead in courts'?" it was dryly answered, "it is thought not!" "In those primitive days," says a grave and accurate historian, " the busy hum of multitudes, the shouts of revelrie, the rumbling equipages of fashion, and all the spirit-grieving sounds of brawling commerce, were unknown in New Amsterdam. The grass grew quietly in the high ways — the bleating sheep and frolicsome calves sport- ed about the verdant ridge, where the Broadway lounger takes his morning stroll — the cunning fox, or ravenous wolf skulked in the woods, where now are to be seen the dens of Gomez, and his righteous fraternity of money-brokers} and flocks of vociferous geese cackled about the field, where, at present, the great Tammany Wigwam, and the patriotic tavern of Martling, echo with the wrang- lings of the mob." Notwithstanding this pleasant picture of rural simplicity, the city wa3 so far advanced in wealth and population in the year sixteen hundred and forty four, as to feel the necessity of a public edifice, in which the citizens might hold 13 their courts and public meetings. Accordingly, in that year, under the reign of Governor Kiefft, the first City Hall, Stadt-Huys, or Tavern, was erected on the corner of Pearl Street and Coenties Slip, *on the ground now occupied by the fine buildings of the Brinkerhoffs. It was constructed of stone, three stories high, at the expense of the West India Company, and termed the " Company's Ta- vern." Strangers who on arriving in the city were accustomed to be received in the Governor's house, here found a more suitable abode. Having grown unfit for further use, after the expiration of nearly sixty years, it was "sold by public outcry" to John Rodman, merchant, for nine hundred and twenty pounds ster- ling, in the year sixteen hundred and ninety nine. In the vaults and cellars of the buildings of the Brinkerhoffs, its ruins may yet be easily traced. The city then proceeded with all speed to erect a new Hall, "at the end of one of the principal streets," about the year seventeen hundred. This second edifice was situated on the corner of Nassau and Wall Streets, where the Cus- tom House now stands. It cost eleven hundred and fifty one pounds, eighteen shillings and threepence, and is represented as " a modest, plain, substantial building." A spacious portico, resting on arches, with arcades underneath, was added to the new hall, in the second story of which, and facing Broad Street, General Washington was inaugurated first President of the United States. On the twenty sixth of September, in the year eighteen hundred and three, and during the mayoralty of Edward Livingston, Esq., was laid the foundation-stone of the third City Hall, represented in the first engraving. It was finished in eighteen hundred and twelve, at an expense of half a million of. dollars. This splendid struc- ture, situated in the enclosure called the Park, and on elevated ground, is extremely ornamental to the city, of which it is the principal building, and one of the hand- somest of its size in the United States. It is of a square form, two stories high, be- sides a basement story. Its length is two hundred and sixteen, its breadth one hundred and five, and its height, including the attic, sixty five feet. The material of the front and both ends, above the basement story, is native white marble, while that of the lower parts, and the whole of the rear, from an anomalous taste in architecture, is brown freestone. The roof is covered with copper and surrounded with a ballustrade of marble. The cupola, on the summit of which stands a collossal figure of Justice, has been recently elevated, to make room for a clock of large dimensions, which, by means of a transparent illuminated dial, is intended to be useful by night as well 14 as by day. It also contains a bell weighing upwards of six thousand pounds. The first story, including the portico, is of the Ionic, the second of the Corinthian, the attic of the Fancy, and the cupftla of the Composite orders. By a flight of twelve marble steps, and beneath a portico supported by sixteen columns of the same material, you are conducted through the principal entrance into the lobby, the roof of which rests on twenty square piers of marble. Besides a stair case in each end, which leads from the first to the second story, there is one, of the geome- trical construction, ascending towards a circular gallery, railed* in, and floored with marble. Ten marble columns rise to the ceiling, which here displays a lofty and highly decorated dome, from the top of which the light falls upon the interior, through an horizontal, circular window. Another gallery runs in the centre from one end to the other. In the first story, apartments are allotted to the first Judge, Re- corder, Mayor, Clerks to the Common Council, County Clerk, Street Commissioner, Sheriff, Register, Clerk of the Supreme Court, to Committees, and the housekeeper. In the second story, are the Common Council Rooms, the Governor's Room, Comp- troller's Office, Circuit Court, Superior Court, Supreme Court, and United States' Circuit and District Courts. Concerning the various offices and courts, however, which have been, for a long period, located in this edifice, it may be necessary to observe that several new arrangements are in contemplation. The jail which, situated but a few yards from the eastern wing of the Hall, has, until within a few weeks, greatly counteracted the beauty of this view by its gloomy and unprepossessing exterior, is undergoing a transformation, and will soon be converted into a structure of more than ordinary elegance. The Governor's Room leads out upon the second story of the front portico, and commands an agreeable view of one of the most busy and fashionable parts of the city. It is hung with paintings of eminent statesmen and soldiers, by Inman, Jarvis, Morse, and other American artists. The Common Council Room measures forty two by thirty feet. It is furnished with taste, and contains, as the seat of the Mayor, the chair used by General Washington, when he presided at the first congress held at this city. Here, also, are full-length portraits of several men, celebrated in the history of the nation. They are well executed by Colonel Trumbull. The principal apartments in the basement 15 story were, until lately, the Marine and Justices' Court, and the Police Office. The latter is opened by sunrise every morning, except Sunday, to take cognizance of offences committed against the peace. The Keeper of the Hall, with his family, resides in the building. It is his duty to keep it clean, and in good order, and after three o'clock, p. M., on every day, except Sundays, a person is ready, for a trifling gratuity, to attend company through the rooms, and to ascend into the cupola, which affords a fine panoramic view of the city and harbor, with the environs. The second plate presents a view of the Navy Yard, taken from the wreck of the Steam Frigate, destroyed, about a year ago, by the explosion of her powder magazine, and with the loss of many lives. This awful calamity is too fresh in the memory of our fellow citizens to require any detailed account. One of the most striking incidents connected with it was the gallant behaviour of Mr. Joseph Eck- fbrdj ' of the navy, and son of Henry Eckford, Esq. His cool and even cheerful patience during the protracted attempts to rescue him from an agonizing situation were regarded with painful interest. The lines of Hallcck are brought to mind on viewing the wreck of the Fulton : "She haa borne in days departed Warm hearts upon her deck — Those hearts, like her, are mouldering now." The Navy Yard itself is situated at Brooklyn, Long Island, or Nassau Island, immediately opposite the city. Steamboats continually ply across the East River, from various points, and at intervals of only a few minutes, by which the commu- nication between the two islands is rendered easy, cheap, and rap 1 ' 1 The Wallaboght, or Wallabout Bay, on which the Navy Yard is located, takes its name from the Dutch words Waallen, Walloons, and Bog-ht, Cove; and was derived from the Walloons, or Dutch Protestants, of French extraction, who first settled there, and whose names and descendants still remain. They emigrated from the banks of the River Waal in the Netherlands, In sixteen hundred thirty two and three the Dutch began to settle on the western end of Long Island. It had been previously inhabited by a treacherous and power- ful tribe of Indians, who possessed many canoes large enough to carry eighty men. 4 16 The Navy Yard was commenced in March, eighteen hundred and one, by the purchase of forty acres of land for forty thousand dollars. It is, at present, under the superintendence of Commodore Chauncy, and other efficient officers. Stores of every description are provided, carefully arranged, and securely covered, and guarded by a company of marines. The value of the public property frequently collected here, may be estimated at ten millions of dollars. This port has received the preference by the government, as the principal naval depot. Of the American Navy, our limits preclude the possibility of entering into any details. An idea of its real strength, however, cannot be formed from the number of ships, their weight of metal, discipline, or general preparation for service, as it is the existing policy of government to preserve the public vessels already built, and provide materials for future use, rather than to increase the present number. Mr. Branch, the late Secretary of the Navy, in a recent report to the President of the United States, observes that " the great expense attending the support of so large a naval force as may be occasionally required, to give security to the com- mercial pursuits of the nation, makes it a matter of leading importance that a system be pursued which shall place the resources of the country in a condition to be rea- dily brought into action, whenever the necessity presents itself, without incurring the expense of maintaining such large force when its services are not wanted." The buildings in plate third are situated about a mile and a quarter from the City Hall, in a part of Bleeckcr Street which has recently received the appellation of Le Roy Place. They are distinguished by nothing extraordinary, and little more concerning them can be gathered from books, or gleaned from the lips of the living, than that they have been erected but a few years, and afford a new evidence of the surprising improvements visible in the city. A marked deviation from every rule of regularity is one of the most striking peculiarities in the streets of New York. While some run in straight lines, others describe a circuitous course, which, after many circumlocutions, at length conduct the bewildered stranger near the very spot whence he commenced his peregrinations, and many traverse the city obliquely, giv- ing rise to certain squares with three sides and entailing upon some of the inhabit- ants the necessity of triangular rooms. The houses present numerous instances of the same inconsistency. A fine block may sometimes be observed wherein each 17 is of different height and composed of various materials. Several of the beautiful new structures in the plate are of gray stone, others of brick ; on one side, as the observer will perceive, the centre one is elevated, while on the other all are alike. They, however, have a uniform color, and present an imposing appearance. Many of our citizens have beheld the ground which they occupy, and which is now covered with a dense mass of elegant buildings, once laid out in pleasant farms, gardens, and rural orchards. It may here be remarked that, as the population increases, the stores, hotels, and boarding houses, and the mansions of those most engaged in business, nearly monopolize the lower parts of the city, while the number of private residences is annually augmenting in the northern sections. Thus many of the spacious edifices in Broadway, once occupied by the most wealthy and respectable families, appear, one after the other, in the new character of public houses, while the most magnifi- cent mansions are continually arising even to the surprise of our own citizens in the upper parts of the town. Of these few perhaps are more beautiful than those in Le Roy Place. The two principal streets which, almost parallel to the river, divide the city into eastern and western sections, are Broadway (formerly Breed-weg and the Here-weg or the Lord's Way) and Chatham Street, the continuation of which is denominated the Bowery. The latter probably derives its name from Stuyvesant Bouwery or Farm. From these a great number of avenues lead to different parts of the island. The Third Avenue, and probably the greatest thoroughfare, was ordered to be opened in eighteen hundred and eleven. A fine ride along this road, and one of its eastern branches, conducts the traveller to the Shot Tower, represented in our last engraving. It is about four miles and a quarter from the city, and rises to the height of one hundred and fifty feet in one of the pleasantest spots of the island. It was erected a few years ago by Mr. George Youle, and is the only structure of the kind near New York. The hours of work are from nine till eleven, during which time three tons of shot are made. The process by which it is manufactured is sim- ple and easy. The molten metal is poured through a seive, from the furnaces sit- uated at and near the summit, and thence falls into a reservoir of water at the bot- tom. In the descent it is hardened without injury to its rotundity. The largest size from the highest seive is received into a reservoir or well twenty five feet below the surface of the earth. We are unable to famish a more detailed descrip- 18 tion of the interior in consequence of a somewhat peremptory negative from one of the superintendents to an application for admission. The exterior, its tall and peculiar form rising high in the air, contrasts finely with the neighboring seats, some half buried under masses of luxuriant foliage. The nearest opposite shore is a part of Blackwell's Island, on which the spacious Penitentiary has lately been constructed. Along this narrow channel of the East River pass in numbers the sloops and steamboats which ply between the city and the various ports on Long Island Sound. In the summer evening their white sails may be frequently seen gliding through the pale moonlight — the heavy steam- boats plough steadily onward, often crowded with hundreds of passengers, while from the decks are heard the notes of the bugle or bursts of martial music, till the long stream of fiery smoke which marks their progress at length disappears. The shores of the river are here beautifully varied and picturesque. In one place the water laves the edge of green meadows, in another it breaks against fragments of rocks. Sometimes a verdant hill rises abruptly to the cultivated gar- dens and splendid buildings which decorate the banks, and sometimes a road winds down to the shore and leads to rural abodes fitted up for the entertainment of the throngs who escape for a few hours from the town to enjoy the breath of the fields, the woods, and the river. In the distance the Navy Yard may be perceived and the eastern part of the city. From this tranquil scene, in the stillness of the summer morning, the thousand various sounds of the inhabitants mingled together in a low murmur, may be heard like the roaring of the distant sea as its waves break on the beach. The garden and hotel adjoining the tower are at present kept by Mr. Hilton, from whose grounds the view was taken. In this cool, pleasant, and shadowy retreat, surrounded by a profusion of shrubbery and flowers, with birds singing in the trees, and the waters breaking in ripples upon the shore, the citizen is pleased to linger in the refreshing breezes of the summer afternoon, or in the cool shadow of the early day, and here "In the sweet solitude of this calm place, This intricate wild wilderness of trees, And flowers, and undergrowth of odorous plants,'' we leave the reader to his thoughts till the next chapter. CHAPTER III. " Sunrise was slanting on the city gates Rosy and beautiful, and from the hills The early risen poor were coming in Duly and cheerfully to their toil, and up Rose the sharp hammer's clink, and the far hum Of moving wheels and multitudes astir, And all that in a city murmur dwells." Willis. There are fine views in the vicinity of New York, though few of them lire on the Island. Strangers naturally inquire respecting the suburbs, and they who have admired the scenery in the neighbourhood of Boston, are disappointed as they ride through the outskirts of this city, and too frequently form an er- roneous conclusion; forgetting that being so nearly surrounded by water, the best positions for a prospect must be on the adjacent shores. From Brooklyn Heights, for example, the scene is striking. The waters of the Sound, here compressed within the narrow channel of the East River, rush through in a rapid and powerful current, till they broaden into the immense Bay that, in beauty and singular adaptatation to the wishes of a commercial people, has on- ly one superior in the world. The city, like Venice, rising directly from the wave, the infinite variety of vessels that crowd the harbour, the islands scatter- ed around, the angle of the town, with the innumerable sights and sounds in- cidental to such a multitude engaged in active occupation, the indented banks of Long Island, crowned with picturesque mills and showy seats, some of them half hidden by the foliage, the town of Brooklyn on the right, and Staten Is- land, in the distance, swelling up against the sky — all these agreeable objects, so disposed before him, awaken both interest and admiration in the beholder. The shores of York Island, washed by the East River, present also many spots which nature and art have combined to decorate with an imposing beauty; and, in New Jersey, opposite the western section of the city, are to be found scenes which are the boast and pleasure of the citizens. A portion of this shore is represented in the ninth engraving. The most varied and lovely scenery tempts the feet of the stranger for several miles along the waves of the Hud- son, till he wanders from Hoboken Ferry to Weehawken, by a road of such singular and romantic beauty, as to merit more than a casual notice. From the foot of Barclay and Canal Streets, in the city, Steam-boats ply at brief 1 20 intervals, and are fifteen minutes in crossing. Hoboken derives its name from one of the old aristocratic families of Antwerp. A hotel, kept by Mr. Van Antwerp, is located on the summit of a high sloping bank, amid a pleasant grove, and within a few hundred yards of the water. In summer, the spacious lawn before the mansion is thronged with hundreds who, in this attractive and refreshing retreat, enjoy the hours of the afternoon. The portly citizen who has gone dripping over the heated pavements in the morning, here lounges up- on a commodious seat, sips his favourite beverage, and grows gradually cool with the declining day. Groupes of lively children are forming and breaking away around you, the honest tradesman sits and breathes, the lawyer lo- ses the chance of a fee to escape to this breezy eminence, the orator leaves Tiis discourse unfinished to muse on an appropriate conclusion here, and the edi- tor flings down his pen in a passion, answers his devil's remonstrances with uncivil ejaculations, and hastens hither, where he puffs out cigar smoke and settles paragraphs, inhales milk punch and ideas in the same delicious moment. Indeed there is a period during the most sultry season, when all classes may find a happy representative here; when the belle and the beau, the rich and the poor, the merry and the discontented, meet upon a common level of en- joyment, and the actor who last night stalked before you as Richard or Othel- lo, has left his coat and his conscience in the theatre, and lounges here in a state of luxurious inanimation. If you are indolent, you will sit quietly, satisfied to gaze abroad upon the splendid spectacle which lies stretched before you; but we recommend you, after having watched, for a few moments, the rapid rail road car, as it sweeps by in its circular flight with the easy velocity of a bird, to ramble onward along the deeply shaded promenade that winds gracefully in among the over spreading foliage, and leads by the river towards the Ely- sian fields and Weehawk. The name of the former is appropriately bestowed upon a tract of charming meadow, a little more than a mile from the ferry, and on your road as you pass to the bold promontory of Weehawk. This is an Indian name for a spot celebrated for its natural beauty, and rendered clas- sical by the lines of Mr. Halleck, which are, or ought to be, familiar to all our readers. Elysium was formerly known by the more homely appellation of Turtle Grove; not from the turtle doves whose low music charmed its shades, but from the fare of the substantial citizens, who, in former times, selected tlu> pleasant and retired site for the scene of their turtle soup dinners, and doubt- less availed themselves of the opportunity to practice all kinds of good humour- ed nonsense without alarming the city., 21 The approach to the Elysian fields, along the water side, is romantic and beautiful. Familiarity blunts our perceptions of physical as well as moral na- ture; yet, the stranger dwells with delight upon the softness, the brightness and variety of this scene, the improvements of which, lately effected by colonel Stevens, are laid out with great taste. We come to it through a narrow, circuitous path, overarched with oak branches, which completely shut out the view, except one or two magnificent glimpses of the city, bay, and narrows. As you draw near the pavilion, recently erected, of which we present an en- graving, the prospect gradually opens into a broad meadow, displaying lofty trees at wide distances from each other, and, at length, spreads away into a superb green lawn, whose sudden extent is relieved by gentle undulations, like the slow, silent swells of the ocean in its calmest moments. The land which has hith- erto been elevated so that the dash of the water floated up to *you from below, now descends to a level with the river, and the waves roll in and break With their silver beauty at your feet. The broad city is distinctly seen in the distance — the Hudson, which here ends its pilgrimage, expands into an apparent lake, which leads the eye on the south to those immense gates through which it pours its tribute floods into the Atlantic, and on the north, to the jutting point of Weehawk, a beautiful fragment clothed with deep rich verdure, thus left perchance in long past ages, broken by the river, as it forced a passage through the mountains. Immediately around you are shady ravines, luxuri- ant forests, and cultivated fields; and, as the level beams of the setting sun Stream through the branches and mark the ground with long grotesque shadows, you realize the spirited lines of the poet: " The landscape to the view Its vistas opens, and its alleys green. Snatched through the verdant maze, the hurried eye Distracted wanders; now the bowery walk Of covert close, where scarce a speck of day Falls on the lengthened gloom, protracted sweeps: Now meets the bending sky: the river now Dimpling along, the breezy-ruffled lake, The forest darkening round, the glittering spire r The etherial mountain and the distant main. Along these blushing borders bright with dew And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers, Fair-handed Spring embosoms every grace ! 22 A brief but somewhat laborious walk from this little Eden conducts you lo the summit of Weehawk hill. At its base are a ferry house and tavern. \ boat may be here procured for the duelling ground, about one hundred rods north, under the steep bank of the river. This place cannot be easily ap- proached except by water. You will experience a mournful satisfaction in tread- ing on ground so fraught with melancholy associations, and wonder that mur- der, led by fashion, should select a spot of such peaceful beauty for its cruel and bloody sacrifice. At this point commences the perpendicular ridge known by the name of the Palisade rocks. They form the western bank of the river for about twenty miles to the north, and reach an elevation of nearly two hundred feet. The summit of this precipice commands another view embra- cing Long Island sound, the island of Manhattan or York, the county of West- chester and the highlands, on the north. A few miles to the west, the bold eminences, which rise from the shores of the Hudson, subside into a tract of richly variegated country, presenting a gentle declivity ; and in the valley be- neath, the Hackensac river threads its course along the lowlands. Travellers passing between the city and the falls of the Passaic, in New Jersey, would find themselves amply compensated for the slight additional trouble of taking this yiew in their route. It was these scenes which the good Sir Hendrick Hudson termed " the pleasantest land for cultivating that men need tread upon." The City Hotel, in the next Plate, is one of the oldest and most exten- sive public houses in the city. It fronts on Broadway, between Cedar and Thames Streets, occupying an entire square, and is calculated for the accom- modation of about one hundred and sixty persons. Besides the public depart- ment there is one appropriated to the use of private families and parties, with a separate entrance, also in Broadway. In addition to the number of small parlours and lodging rooms, it contains one of the most spacious and elegant apartments in the United States, chiefly used for concerts and balls. For the last fourteen years this establishment has been under the direction of Mr. Ches- ter Jennings. No situation in the city offers more convenience for strangers desirous of residing near the principal scenes of business, fashion and pleasure. In its vicinity are the Battery, Wall Street with nearly all the banks, the Post Office and the Exchange, the chief book stores and libraries, and the Park Theatre, It is the property of Mr. John Jacob Astor, who bought it in April, 1828, for one hundred and twenty-one thousand dollars. The annual rem is nine thousand dollars. 23 In tlie distance are discerned Trinity and Grace Churches. The ware- house of R. & W. Nunns, well known as makers of fine pianos, is also seen in the plate. About two hundred and fifty instruments are annually manufactu- red bv these superior artizans. Connected with their rooms is the store of Mr. Hewett, where may be obtained an extensive assortment of music and musical instruments. The Asylum for the insane, at Manhattanville, about seven miles from the city, was commenced on the seventh of May, eighteen hundred and eighteen. It is a branch of the New York Hospital, under the government of the same managers, and is endowed with funds amounting to ten thousand dollars per annum, for forty-four years: an appropriation, granted by the legislature of the state in eighteen hundred and sixteen. The site of this fine building is an elevation of one hundred and fifty feet above the Hudson river. It may be information to some of our young readers, that there is a slight variation in the level of the Hudson and East rivers. This has been tested by experiments made at the foot of Roosevelt and Canal Streets, at several times of tides. The difference was ascertained to be from a quarter of an inch to one and two inches, by slight gradations, and at one moment eight inches. The Asylum and grounds occupy seventy-seven acres, purchased at five hun- dred dollars each. It was completed in the course of two years, at the entire cost of two hundred thousand dollars. The edifice is composed of red sand stone, from New Jersey. It is three stories high, besides the basement, two hundred and eleven feet in length, and sixty feet deep. The interior is divided into three parts. One is allotted to males, another to females, and the cen- tral occupied by the superintendant, his family, the physician, and governors. Through each story extends a hall leading, on either side, into apartments, where the unhappy tenants are accommodated. None are admitted gratuitously, but a limited number may be sent from each senate district, at two dollars per week, to be paid by contributions from their friends or the overseers of the poor. Individuals in affluent circumstances receive luxuries, consistent with their health, and are boarded at the rate of ten dollars per week. The whole building is warmed safely and comfortably by means of flues from below. The number of patients is limited to two hundred. The visiting committee report that the me- thod of medical and moral treatment here pursued, has more than realized their sanguine anticipations. The unfortunate victims are led on gently through 2 24 a course of agricultural and mechanical occupations. Books are given to such as will read; others are persuaded to draw, or amuse themselves with easy ex- ercise in the sunshiny and pleasant gardens. For the use of such as cannot be safely trusted with more freedom, there are two enclosures surrrounded by high walls, on the north side of the edifice, distinct from the other grounds, and accessible only by subterranean passages in the rear. Every thing is re- sorted to which can tend to break in upon the gloomy monotony of madness, and touch, in the dark disturbed mind, the springs of light and happy associa- tions. The most affectionate and careful attention is required to exclude from the imagination any idea of their real situation. All appearance therefore of a prison is concealed. The cast-iron windows resemble those of ordinary dwelling houses. Every object is preserved in a state of perfect cleanliness and order. The pros- pect presents beautifully embellished roads and shrubbery, meadows of deep green in which deer and other animals are quietly browsing, and, so success- fully have the benevolent promoters and guardians of this noble institution imitated the cheerfulness and comfort of a private palace, that one of the pris- oners, whom the thinking inhabitant of the rough outward world will almost hesitate to term wretched, wanders about the enclosed lawns, with an air of lordly importance, issues commands of no equivocal nature to such strangers as meddle with the fruit or flowers, and, basking here in the summer sunshine, sees his life glide peacefully on in a pleasant and perpetual enchantment. The visiter will however sometimes shudder with a cold feeling of horror, to hear the still tranquillity of so lovely a spot broken by some startling and positive voice, a hoarse laugh, an agonizing shriek or a deep groan, mingled with the clank of chains, from the inmates of those separate buildings allotted to maniacs of the most desperate cast. Application for admission to the patients must be applied for at the Hospital in Broadway, as, without an order, strangers are not shown through the whole interior. The building was planned by Thomas C. Taylor. Esq. one of the directors. The summit commands one of the most delightful views in the island, embracing an horizon of forty miles north and south and twenty east, including the pallisadoes on the west bank of the Hudson, rising perpen- dicularly four hundred feet. We recommend every stranger to visit this emi- nence and enjoy at a single glance a rich and glowing picture of natural beauty. Choose a summer afternoon or morning, when the level beams give a depth of light and shadow. You will never be weary of admiring the gleamings of the rivers — the luxuriant profusion of foliage and verdant fields — the blue high- lands near West-Point — the heights of Harlaem and Fort Wasliingto», Staten 25 Esland and Long Island — the white seats peeping from their leafy coverings, and the bay crowded with vessels of every description, and betraying its proximity to the great city whose bristling spires are seen in the distance. Our descrip- tion affords but a faint idea of the reality to those who have neglected to in- dulge themselves with a view from this fine elevation; but many a young and pitying bosom will find all the picturesque splendours of the prospect, and the graceful embellishments of the scenery immediately around, unable to drive away the images of the pale faces, which here and there look up from their lonely meditations — the white hand of some maniac beckoning from the window — the vacant smile — the glare of rancorous hate — and that hideous sound of chains. Feelings of pleasure, excited even by the unusual beauty of nature, are rebuked by the thought that you are in the midst of a crowd of your fellow beings, suffering under so- awful and unaccountable a visitation of Providence. In the year seventeen hundred and fifty-two, an Exchange was built on the lower end of Wall Street, on the west side, at or near the intersection of Pearl Street. The expenses were principally defrayed by the private subscrip- tion of John Watts and other merchants. The Corporation granted one hundred pounds towards the same. In April, seventeen hundred and eighty-four, this edifice was turned into a market place, and in Match, seventeen hundred and ninety-nine, it was ordered to be taken down. The merchants were accus- tomed to congregate in a large room in the Tontine Coffee House, also in Wall Street, until eighteen hundred and twenty-seven. This Tontine Coffee House was also erected by merchants. It was commenced in seventeen hundred and ninety-two, upon a spot formerly occupied by a Coffee House, opened by a Mr. Smith during the revolutionary war, and much frequented by the British Officers. The present building was commenced in April, eighteen hundred and twen- »y-five, and completed in May, eighteen hundred and twenty-seven. The front on Wall Street is one hundred and fourteen feet, and the depth running through to Garden, one hundred and fifty. The main body of the building is two stories high, exclusive of the basement and an attic story on Wall Street. Two thirds of the south east portion of the basement story is occupied with the Post Office. The front consists of pure white marble, from Westchester county, eighteen miles north east from the city. The principal entrance from Wall Street is by a flight of nine marble steps. The portico of the building is ornamented with tour Ionic columns, each composed of a single block of marble and weighing 26 eighteen tons. They are ornamented with an entablature, on which rests the attic story and the cupola. The colonade extending across the front of the ves- tibule is copied from the temple of Illyssus. A winding flight of steps leads to the saloons of the second and attic stories. Rising from the floor of the first are two windows, that open into and command a view of the area below, which forms the subject of our last engraving. From the attic story, a grated door lends to the telegraphic room in the cupola, where signals are made and returned from the telegraph at the Narrows, seven miles and a half distant south west. The height of the cupola above the attic story is sixty feet, and sixty feet above the pavement below. The dome commands an extensive prospect of the city, harbour, the Hud- son and East rivers, and the surrounding country to a distance of about twenty miles north and west. This position, as well as the cupola of the City Hall and several steeples, affords a fine panoramic view of the city. The room dis- played in the engraving, is in the centre of the building, and is eighty-five feet long, fifty-five wide and forty-five high. The architect, Mr. M. E. Thompson, has been greatly praised for his taste and skill in constructing it. The stock is owned in twenty-three hundred shares of one hundred dollars each. The spacious apartment in the plate, from the horns of one to three P. M. presents an interesting sight to the stranger. Its ample floor is thronged with a crowd, whose low tones are blended into a subdued hum like the murmur of bees. Upon this spot often originate important commercial enterprizes, whose results are felt in distant parts of the nation and indeed the world. Here for- eigners and natives meet to make bargains and exchange news, and fortunes are built >ip and dissipated in a moment. CHAPTER IV. •■ Erewhile, where yon gay spires their brightness rear, Trees waved, and the brown hunter's shouts were loud Amid the forest; and the bounding deer Fled at the glancing plume, and the gaunt wolf yelled near And where his willing waves yon bright blue bay Sends up, to kiss his decorated brim, And cradles, in his soft embrace, the gay Young group of grassy islands born of him, And, crowding nigh, or in the distance dim, Lifts the white throng of sails, that bear or bring The commerce of the world — with tawny limb, And belt and beads in sunlight glistening, The savage urged his skiff like wild bird on the wing. Bryant. Free Schools were first established in this city in 1797. The " New York Free School" was incorporated in 1805. The New York High School was formed in 1822, at the suggestion of Mr. John Griscom, one of the most respected of our fellow citizens. The Edinburgh High School was adopted as the model of imitation, and another institution of the same kind was organized iu 1825, for female pupils. Sabbath schools are numerous, and the number of minor private schools has been estimated at four or five hundred. For young ladies, several establishments of the first rank exist, greatly to the cre- dit of those who founded and those who conduct them, and extremely useful in promoting the general character of the city. Of these, and the vast vari- ety of benevolent, literary, and scientific institutions, we shall have occasion to speak hereafter. At present, we must confine ourselves to a brief descrip- tion of the two edifices represented in the first plate of this number. The largest furnishes an accurate idea of the Washington Institute, an institution for the instruction of young gentlemen. It was established eight or ten years ago by Mr. George Hall, who has given the public the most ample evidence? of his great capabilities for superintending it, and from him it passed into the hands of the Rev. Joseph D. Wickham, an accomplished scholar and esrima- 1 28 ble man, who with the valuable assistance of Mr. John Lutz, Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, at present conducts it with great ability and success. We trust it may not be deemed inappropriate here, to offer a few remarks on education, naturally elicited by the present subject. To the observations which we are about to advance, it is almost needless to premise there were several exceptions. Before the Washington Institute was elevated by Mr. flail to the rank which it now holds, there had been almost uniform- ly throughout the academies of our country, two glaring evils. Learning was either above or below that mediocrity most befitting the mass of a plain and republican people. The pupil was obliged either to enter a college and devote the most precious years of his youth in acquiring certain scholastic attainments, which, however ornamental or necessary to the learned professions, are not the most requisite for the majority of our young men: or, he was compelled to descend to one of the many academies conducted by irresponsible and incom- petent persons, where, in endeavouring to perfect himself in the ordinary branch- es, he was too often exposed to the example of vulgar men, who taught school merely as adventurers, and allured parents to patronize them by cheap terms. We suspect there have been more charletans among school masters, than almost any other profession, and for this the public have in a great measure to blame themselves. Parents and guardians have been too much accustomed to send their children to the care of men who were neither gentlemen nor scholars, and whom they were ashamed to invite to their own tables. The business of in- struction had, by the strangest caprice and injustice, wanted the colour of respectability and the prospect of pecuniary gain, requisite to elevate it to its natural station among the rest, and had hence fallen into the hands of a low order of society; and he who felt a repugnance to commit his son to their charge, was compelled to adopt an alternative almost equally repulsive, and place him under the control of gentlemen who led him through the classics, and accomplished him in many kinds of knowledge, which in after life was neg- lected and forgotten, and perhaps served to give him a distaste for the busi- ness to which .circumstances called him, being thus rather an obstacle than an auxiliary. The object of the Washington Institute is to afford the desired me- dium, and while boys destined to the professions can there be fitted for college, to the sons of merchants and tradesmen it offers great inducements — a thorough education in the English branches — the Spanish, French, German, and Italian, and whatever in the lighter departments can be required. This experiment has been well repaid by the steady approbation and support, of the wealthiest 29 and most respectable families of the city and of various parts of the United States. A large number of young men also from the West Indies, Mexico, Guatamala, Columbia, and other divisions of Spanish America, have here re- ceived their education. It is an additional consideration of paramount impor- tance, that in this healthy and beautiful spot, the morals and manners of the pupils are regarded by the numerous assistant instructors employed, with a never sleeping care. The most scrupulous assiduity has always been exerted respect- ing the cleanliness, neatness, and domestic comforts of the extensive family. A visit to this establishment would not fail to interest every stranger of intelli- gence. It is situated on a charming elevation in Thirteenth Street, combining the many advantages of a city vicinity with the pore air and lovely prospect of the country. The Hudson may be seen from the spacious piazza in the rear, which also commands a beautiful view of the East river. On the west and in the perspective, the spectator discovers the building erected by the cor- poration in the course of their plan for supplying the town with water to be used in the extinguishment of fires. An immense reservoir has been dug to a great depth, through solid rock, and their work has already been so far crowned with success, as to insure a supply of water through pipes already laid along a number of the principal streets. The fourteenth engraving shews a view of the Hudson river from the shore of New Jersey. This beautiful sheet of water is often crowded with sails of every description, from the light open pleasure boat skimming over its bosom, to the stately packet ship or the magnificent seventy four. In the distance on the right, you may discern a group of buildings, near which is the Chemical Facto- ry. This establishment is the property of the New York Chemical Bank, which has invested in it one hundred thousand dollars, one fifth of its capital stock. It is situated three miles from the city, and annually manufactures to the amount of about fifty thousand dollars, in oil of vitriol, muriatic acid, spirits nitre fortis, aqua fortis tin, aqua fortis duplex, bleaching powders, alum, &c. The fifteenth plate offers to our readers a view of one of the slips on the eastern side of the town, where is seen a portion of the extensive shipping which distinguishes this above every other American city, and ranks it near the most important emporiums of Europe. The slip in the picture derives its name fron the Tontine Coffee House, a large adjoining building in Wall Street, erected in 1792, and presents nothing of peculiar interest more than what a stranger would 30 feel, in beholding a scene so crowded with a variety of noble vessels and enliv- ened with the signs of business. It however calls up astonishment at the extra- ordinary if not unparalelled rapidity with which our metropolis has grown up in wealth and commerce. In judging of the past too, we are naturally impelled to look forward, and conjecture has scarcely any limits respecting the; future great- ness of this city, when we consider its previous increase and the combined ad- vantages of its situation. In 1650, the trade of this port was confined to fur; and even in 1683, our ancestors numbered three barques, three brigantines, twen- ty-six sloops, and forty-eight open boats. Now the spectator, at many times when the wind is fair, may, without moving from one spot, count more sloops than the whole of the foregoing, bending before the breeze on tbeir passage up the rJudson. A volume of statistics, published several years ago, estimates the value of the merchandize annually shipped and unshipped in this port, at one hundred millions of dollars., the average number of merchant vessels in port at six hundred, besides fifty steamboats. It would be difficult to conjecture what influence can arrest the extension of New York city. It is allowed to display superior commercial advantages over every other on this continent. It is the grand reservoir into which capital flows from all quarters, and the nature of its magnificent harbour leaves nothing to be desired by its enterprising inhabitants. Every thing tends to render it the great centre of business, and the wanderer from other cities of the United States immediately feels on his entrance into New York, that he is in a place where powerful interests are forever conflicting, and large enterprises forever springing up, and wherein are to be found most of the secret springs, which, extending their influence far and wide, control the ope- rations of the most remote parts of the Union. The sway which it thus exer- cises, it owes to commerce. An intelligent writer on the same subject, observes this distinction: "It is apparent," he says, "that it (New York) had its origin in commercial interests, and that the causes to which its origin is to be traced, have little analogy with those to which the other settlements of the United States owe their existence. The first settlers of New England, Pennsylvania, and the Southern States, were, with few exceptions, refugees from religious and political persecution, and their abodes in the wilderness were selected, not as permanent settlements, but as asylums to screen them from the oppression which had expelled them from their homes. These settlements may therefore be con- sidered as consecrated by the presence of a great moral principle. The first settlement of New York was without the benefit of any moral impulse of this nature: her shores were occupied by a commercial company, with a view to 31 trade; and every subsequent addition to her wealth and industry is to he traced to the operation of the same cause." Whoever mingles in the society of New York, will often feel the force- of this observation. Hoadley &. Phelps, dealers in Drugs, Paints, &c, Phoenix Buildings, on the right of the view, do an exten- sive business, principally with the cities and towns in our country, particularly in the south and west. One of the homeliest buildings in the city of any note, as to its exterior, is the Park Theatre — the large plain edifice visible in the sixteenth piate. We possess but slender materials for describing accurately the earliest efforts of our ancestors at Theatrical performances, which were commenced nearly a century ago in a large Store near the Old Slip, on a place called Cruger's Wharf, at about the same period, by the way, the first regular weekly was published in New York, called the "Weekly Gazette." There are now about thirty weekly papers. The accounts before us do not represent the persons engaged in the undertaking to have been either very serious or successful, but a mere party of frolicksome young men, rather desirous of gratifying their own love of mirth and frivolity, than of founding any permanent and well regulated dramatic establishment. About the year one thousand seven hundred and fifty, a stone Theatre was built in Nassau Street, in the rear of the Dutch Church, near Maiden Lane. It is said to have been quite well conducted by a Mr. Hallam, who principally by the aid of players from the Provincial Theatres of Great Britain, performed many of the best English plays until the Manager, either from want of encouragement, or allured by more lucrative prospects elsewhere, withdrew his Company and the building was pulled down. In 1770 a new effort was made by a Mr. Miller, in a miserable wooden house in Beekman Street, a few doors below Nassau Street. This is described as inferior to the other. The scenery was of paper, and the wardrobe defi- cient both in quality and extent. This unfortunate structure was so far from being supported that the public, not satisfied with its passing to its fate in the ordinary course of things, assembled one day under the influence of some po- litical excitement and tore it to pieces. During the Revolutionary war, and while the city was in possession of the 2 32 English, the drama was once more resorted to as a source of amusement. A building was erected in John Street, and plays were represented by the British officers. Among the pieces here performed, were several of a satirical charac- ter from the pen of Burgoyne. in 1783, alter the British had evacuated the city, the John Street Theatre fell into the hands of a regular Company, and was for a time quite successful. A circumstance is said to have occurred at this period, by which (subsequent writers have informed us,) we may perceive at a glance what singular revolutions take place in the characters of communities as well as individuals. The recent accounts state, that the winter of 1785 was unusually severe, and caused extreme suffering among the poor. The man- ager of the Theatrical Corps offered for their assistance the proceeds of a night, amounting to one hundred pounds. This was declined by the Common Council on the ground, tiiat Theatrical exhibitions had an immoral tendency. This view of the affair, however, is not altogether correct, although we ac- knowledge with regret, which every one inlerested in the character of his country must feel, that our past history is darkened by too many instances of absurd bigotry; yet in the present instance we are happy in finding a version of the affair less calculated to interfere with our respect for our forefathers. A donation not of one hundred, but of forty pounds was offered to the Cor- poration for the use of the poor, but was declined by the Common Council, and on the ground that they disapproved of the " Establishment of a Play-House. without having been licensed, as unprecedented and offensive ; and while a. great part of the city was lying in ruins, and the citizens still suffering under distress, there is a loud call to industry and economy, and it would be unjus- tifiable in them to countenance expensive and enticing amusements. That among these, a Play-House, however regidated, was to be numbered, while if under no restraint, it may prove a fruitful source of dissipation, criminality, and vice." Indeed a mere act of bigotry so wanton and stupid as this little cir- cumstance has been misrepresented to the present generation, could scarcely have occurred at the time when such men as Washington, La Fayette, John Jay, Robert R. Livingston, Samuel Ogden, and Richard Yarick, were the leading men of the community, and held the control over the general opinions as well as the political interests of men. The building was destroyed by fire in 1799. The Park Theatre, the subject of our present consideration was commenced in 1795, during the alarming prevalence of the yellow fever in the city. It S3 was completed in 1798, at which time a petition from the Proprietors for leave to erect a portico over the side walk, was rejected by a Common Coun- cil, apparently as unwilling to grant as to receive favors from the Dramatic Corps. The cost of the building was one hundred and seventy-nine thousand dollars, but was soon after > purchased at auction for fifty thousand dollars, by its present owners Messrs. Astor and Beekman. It was opened for public performances in 1798, under the management of the celebrated Hodgkinson, formerly of the John Street Theatre. This gentleman must have been gifted with great powers as an actor, from the strong and universal praise bestowed upon him by those familiar with his personations; since his death the Theatre has passed under the direction of Dui'ilap, Cooper, Price, and its present manager, Simpson. In May, IS20, late one night after the performance of the even- ing, the building was discovered to be on fire. We are not aware that the original cause of the accident is known. The interior was wholly consumed, but the walls which are of immense thickness were left standing; their height also prevented the conflagration, and a heavy shower came very opportunely to the assistance of the firemen in the preservation of the surrounding buildings, which with a single exception were uninjured. Fortunately this calamity was attended by no loss of lives. No one who witnessed the destruction of the Park Theatre can ever forget the grandeur and sublimity of the spectacle. The sky was completely obscured with clouds, and shrouded the scene in im- penetrable gloom, which greatly heightened the intense splendour of the fire-light. The flames, ascending to the height of several hundred feet, cast a glare of lurid radiance over a circle of many miles, and illuminated the city, especi- ally in the immediate vicinity, with vivid brilliancy and beauty. Crowds of citizens and among them many ladies and gentlemen, lured by the awful gran- deur of the sight, thronged by thousands to the spot, and the dense mass of human beings which gradually swarmed around, added strongly to the pictur- csqueness of the scene. Then there is a peculiar, and almost indefinable interest in witnessing the destruction of a Theatre, which broke forth in a thousand murmured excla- mations from the lips of the spectators. We regarded the crashing edifice and the thickening and heaving multitude with almost equal curiosity. There was the poet with his dilated eyes already manufacturing phrases for a poem, on the conflagration of the Park Theatre; and there was the editor watching to give his country subscribers a faithful description. Some turned up their eyes 34 and shrugged their shoulders, and nodded their heads knowingly and mutter- ed aloud the "judgment" which must fall at last on all haunts of worldly pleasure. To us it was the breaking up of a world of pleasant images and as- sociations. In these gleaming sheets of fire and deep masses of billowy smoke rolling upward on the wind, we saw a host of gay and gorgeous spirits passing away. Kings and heroes, Roman and Greek, maids and mothers, Lear, Rich- ard, Csesar, Desdemona, Rosalind, Falsiaff, all vanished like a pleasant dream. Our extremely limited space warns us back from digression; but we are certain hundreds shared our half formed shifting reveries and regrets on beholding the ruin of the edifice from which they had derived so many hours of amusement. In narra- ting ihis catastrophe, we should not forget ' the generosity of Mi. M. M. Noah, for whose benefit, as the author of several popular pieces, the proceeds of the evening were to have been appropriated. On account of the misfortune, he re- turned the amount handed over to him by the managers, although it was the re- ceipts of a full house. It was several months after the fire before the proprie- tors rebuilt the edifice. The interior was much improved, but the exterior re- tained its unpromising aspect. It was re-opened on the evening of the first of August, 1821, with a prize address, a beautiful composition from the pen of Mr. Sprague. The length of the building is sixty feet, the height fifty-five, the depth one hundred and sixty-five. It is constructed of brick, and the front is plastered with oil cement in imitation of brown free stone. The roof is shingled and cov- ered with tin, and the whole is completely fire proof. There are five doors of entrance to the boxes, two to the pit, and one to the gallery, all of which open outward. Many lives were lost, it is said, at the dreadful conflagration of the Richmond Theatre, from the pressure of the crowd against the doors which open inward. The ticket lobby is nine feet wide, and forty-seven and a half long. On the second floor there is a saloon or coffee room fifty feet long. The inte- rior of the house, which presents the form of a Lyre, measures at its greatest width fifty-two and a half feet. The house is at present under the management of Messrs. Simpson, Barry, and Price. It will accommodate twenty-five hundred persons. The annual rent is eighteen thousand dollars. CHAPTER V. " As the morning advances, the din of labour augments on every side ; the streets are thronged with man and steed, and beast of burden ; the universal movement produces ahum and murmur like the surges of the ocean. As the sun ascends to his meridian, the hum and bustle gradually decline ; at the height of noon there is a pause ; the panting city sinks into lassitude, and for several hours there is a general repose. The windows are closed ; the curtains drawn ; the inhabitants retired into the coolest recesses of their mansions." The Alhambra. The attention of the reader is solicited, in this number, to a map of the city of New York, and also to two views. Of the latter, the first represents a part of Broad-street, embracing an old house, a relic of Dutch elegance, which reminds one of the days of Dolph Heyliger, and of Peter the Headstrong. The other displays the spacious new building erected by Mr. Holt as a hotel and ordinary. The map affords room for little other than a mere geographical description. The city of New York lies in the State of the same name, and is situated in latitude forty degrees, forty-two minutes, north ; longitude seventy-four degrees, one minute, eight seconds, west, from Greenwich, England ; and two degrees, fifty-four minutes, twenty- two seconds east, from the city of Washington. It stands on an island formerly called Manhattan, but now New York, which measures in length, from north to south, about fifteen miles, and from about a mile to a mile and a half in breadth. The river Hudson, or North River, separates this island from New Jersey, on the west ; the river Haerlem on the north, from the main land. The East River, which is but a passage from the Sound to the Bay, divides it from Long Island, and the Bay or Harbour, from Staten Island. " According to Van der Douck," says a late writer, " who published a his- tory of the New Netherlands, at Amsterdam, in 1656, Hudson's river was the English 36 name of the great river coming from the north ; but the Dutch ' called it Mauritius, after Prince Maurice, who then presided over the government of Holland.' The Indian name of the Island was Manhattan ; the Dutch called the city a JVieuw Amsterdam ; and the English changed it to the name which it still retains. The same writer gives us the fol- lowing description of the bay of New York. — 1 The bay on which Staten Island is situated is the most celebrated, because the East and North rivers flow into it — rivers, a particu- lar description of which will presently be given, together with a number of kills, gats, and creeks, some of which resemble small rivers, and are navigable, as Raritan kill, kill Van Kull, Nieuvesink, &.c. This bay is also so formed as to render it safe from all boisterous winds, and a thousand ships of burthen may harbour in it within the land. The entrance into the bay is extensive, and is accompanied with but little danger to those who have once gone, or who have been taught the passage. If persons are so inclined, and the wind fair, they may in one tide proceed from sea to the city of New Amsterdam, which lies five [Dutch] miles from the ocean, and that wheff deeply laden, with an easy sail, and by ships of the greatest burthen.' The following is the depth of water over the bar, as furnished by the pilot of the United States' ship Boston, which passed in June, 1830, with the wind from the westward : Carried over the bar - -25 feet 6 inches Tide had fallen - - - 1 6 27 feet inches." It may be proper here to observe, that, strictly speaking, by the term " City of New York" is understood the county also, their limits being the same, although in general con- versation the term refers only to that part built and paved. Since Hudson's first visit to this " pleasant land," both the soil and climate have undergone a. material alteration ; great labour and expense having been lavished on that part of the island now oc- cupied by the houses, especially on that section most compactly built. High banks and hills have been levelled ; marshes and swamps entirely filled up ; a lake of fresh water called the Collect, near the middle of the city, and a high hill called Bayard's Mount, near the East River, have within a few years totally disappeared. Large tracts on the river side are made ground, and such parts of the island as have been cultivated have been found remarkably fertile, " producing a succession of fine crops with little labour, and almost without manure." With the soil the climate has also changed. It has acquired a greater uniformity - The former intensely coid winters, and summers of fierce and protracted heat, occur less frequently, if at all, and their gradual amelioration has exerted a favourable influ- 37 ence in rendering the climate more healthy. Indeed, previous writers on this subject have estimated, that fewer persons die in New York, in proportion to the population,, than in most of the large cities and towns of England, notwithstanding the proverbial salubrity of that climate. It is ascertained that in Paris, London, and Amsterdam, there are more deaths than births. In this as well as in other cities of the United States, there are at least two births to one death : We make this statement on the authority of the Transactions of the Literary and Philosophical Society of New York, (vol. I.) which adds, that " there can be no doubt but that the United States have an advantage over the healthiest parts of Europe." We have more clear days here than in Europe, and the greater part of our autumn "is unparalleled for beauty and plea- santness." The situation of New York is peculiarly healthy, being nearly surrounded by water, and open to a sea breeze. Its distance from the Atlantic is only sixteen miles. There have already been a number of maps engraved to represent it. The first was taken somewhere about the year 1640, and when it was under the Dutch Government. From that, as well as from numerous other evidences not to be mis- taken, it is easy to perceive that the town was originally commenced without any regular plan. For many years the settlers continued to lay out the streets, and con- struct the buildings according to accident, or the mere caprice of individuals. A oopy of the map, above alluded to, ornamented Knickerbocker's valuable History of New York. All the prominent buildings therein discovered have now given place to others. About thirty years afterwards another view was taken, which has since been re-engraved, and may be found in a pamphlet lately published by Moulton. The city had then begun to assume its present form. In 1729, an enlarged map was published by James Lynes, Surveyor. Another map of the city appeared in 1766, and one of New York generally in 1774. In 1766 also, the English Parliament caused one to be engraved in London. Goerck and Margin issued one in 1803 ; and in 1811, a map by Bridges was executed by commissioners appointed by the state, for the purpose of lay- ing out the greater part of the island for building. This was subsequently conducted on a regular and uniform principle. At present, although we believe the whole island is laid out, it is closely built onlj from the Battery to Thirteenth-street, being a distance of almost three miles. Its breadth is about a mile and a half. It is anticipated that, from the almost unprece- dented increase of the population not many years can elapse before the whole plan will be filled up. 38 The Battery forms the south western point of the city and island. Here the settle- ment first commenced. The streets emanating in radiating lines from this point are generally about three miles in length, with the exception of Broadway, which, in conse- quence of an improvement lately effected in joining this fine promenade to the Fourth Avenue, presents the singular prospect of a street nearly nine miles in a straight line, and, when a half century shall have extended the city nearer to its furthermost limits, will- probably be without a rival. Washington-street, Greenwich-street, Broadway, South, Front, Water, Pear , Broad, Nassau, and William streets, form the oldest portion of the city — built up principally before 1 750. The shipping lies generally in the eastern waters. The south- eastern parts include the wealthy and most commercial portions ; the seats of trade and monied operations. The whole island is laid out into eleven principal avenues, each one hundred feet wide. These are intersected by cross streets to the number of one hundred and fifty-six, and about sixty feet wide ; of these, the Third Avenue, leading six miles from Vaux- hall Garden to Harlaem, is the chief, and forms the principle thoroughfare in the road to the Eastern States. The old roads, used before the avenues were commenced, are stopped up as the main avenues are finished. The compact part of the city — that is the part comprized within the watch and lamp districts, contains two hundred and fifty-six streets, and has been computed to measure one hundred miles of pavement. It has been a general theme of regret, that they, under whose control the older parts of the city were constructed, had rendered so few facilities for squares, parks, green promenades, parade grounds, &c. The Commissioners, under the act of 1807 : have very properly remedied this defect in regard to the future increase. From First-street up to One-Hundred-and-Fifty-Fifth-street, at Macomb's Bridge, there arc 98,660 lots of 25 by 100 feet each — 4,032 of these have been reserved for public purposes. Of the future continued and rapid growth of the city of New York very few have any doubt, although some imagine that, in preference to augmenting the numbev of houses '>n the island, the new-comers will find it more to their advantage to buik! no the vacant land at Powles' Hook and Hoboken, on the opposite Jersey shore, ana 39 Brooklyn, Williamsburgli, and Flatbush, Long Island. At these places rent is com- paratively low and land cheap ; and they offer a very desirable proximity to the busi- ness parts of this town. Although the price of land in tliis island is not extravagantly high, yet there are very burdensome assessments for opening avenues and streets, and for filling and regulating the ground. Two defects, both important, but neither beyond the reach of remedy, will arrest the attention of the intelligent stranger : One is the state of the wharves, which are now constructed of wood, but should be solid masonry. The other, the want of a supply of water. Both of these, we trust, will ere long receive the efficient notice of the public authorities. Of that portion of the city which has not yet been built up compactly, or in other words, of the rest of the island, the limits of which are also the limits of the county, it is not necessary here to say much. It consists principally of one formation, granite occasionally overlaid by other rock. We must except a section, stretching about three miles from the Battery, which is alluvial ; near the mouth of King's Bridge Creek, about twelve miles from the City Hall, the granite ceases abruptly, and is succeeded by marble, so continuing to the termination of the island. This marble presents a most valuable material for building, is convenient to the river, and may be obtained in great quantities, and easily transported. It is supposed by many, that it will, at some future period, in a measure supersede the use of red sand-stone and brick. In some parts porcelian clay has been found in small quantities. The island presents various views of extreme beauty, and a pleasant tour may be made around it in a few hours ; visiting the Lunatic Asylum, (of which we have already presented an engraving,) Harlaem and King's Bridge, Hurl Gate, the Alms House, and Penitentiary. The number of houses in the city are annually increasing with singular ra- pidity, and many of them exceed in splendour any thing before seen this side of the Atlantic. They have been estimated, in 1816, at 47,900 ; and in 1828, at 80,000, within the last four years, the increase has gone on more rapidly. All the old fashioned wood tenements with shingle roofs, are disappearing, and brick houses with slate roofs occupy tiieir plice. It is, however, a disgrace t'> the wealthy men who are continually running up blocks of buildings on speculation, that many of 40 • hem are constructed carelessly, of very worthless materials, and inadequately put together. Numerous accidents have been the consequence. The catastrophe in Fulton- street, where an immense building, six stories high, (the site of which can be dis- tinctly seen in the 18ih Plate,) fell to the ground, crushing a number of human beings beneath its ruins, is yet fresh in every body's recollection ; and, while we pen these remarks, a paper is lying on the table stating, that a brick edifice was yesterday blown down in a thunder-shower. Of this building we are assured, that the lower part of the walls were one brick and a half in thickness, the upper part only one brick. The mortar was so slightly laid on, that the bricks scattered about presented no ap- pearance of having been touched by it. These are but exceptions to the general style of building, as others are raised with lavish expense and great elegance and taste, and travellers acknowledge that, in their internal construction, " the dwelling-houses in New York are not surpassed in any other country." Among the most picturesque objects afforded by our city, several years ago, were those relics clothed with associations half ludicrous half melancholy, of our renowned ancestors the Dutch. There is something at once neat and ridiculous in their peculiar style of architecture. We have indeed paused before these vener- able remnants of days gone by, not without a propensity to sentimentalize. Amid the new fancied fashions of modern architecture — the aspiring three story brick houses— the high flight of steps — the damask curtains — the glittering carriage and glossy prancing steeds before the door, — how plain and yet how striking appear these emblems of past times. Those sharp-pointed roofs, those leaden windows, those gable fronts, that lowly threshold whereby sat the stately burgomaster, with lus fragrant pipe, while around him peradventure opened green fields, and above him rastled pleasant branches ; and within, his plump and rosy^chee'ked daughter, like a ripe peach for health and beauty — a lovely little Dutch Hebe by a spinning-wheel — a sweet Katrina Van Tassel— but whither does my fancy lead. The stately burgo- master's pipe is long since broken, and himself laid with his fathers ; Katrina's laughing eyes no more send a cheerful thought to the heart of the chance traveller ; and that venerable mansion in the picture — that sad remembrancer of a thousand pleasing scenes of love and quiet is (bones of the Vanderlyns and Vanderdams lie quiet while I write my history) a grocery store, where sugar, and ham, and molasses, and onions — things which doubtless would have made the hair of its first occupants stand on end — are retailed " cheap for cash." The first engraving given in this number represents a building (recently taken 41 down) which stood on the east side of Broad street, No. 41. It was one hundred and thirty-two years old, and was one of the few which escaped the memorable conflagra Hon of 1776. • In the 18th plate we have the extensive hotel of Mr. Holt, an edifice very carefully constructed, and promising to be both useful and ornsunental to the city. It stands on the corner of Fulton and Pearl streets. The fronton Fulton street is 100 feet, on Pearl street 76 feet 6 inches, on Water street 85 feet 6 inches. It is 6 stories high, beside the basement. The height of the main building to the top of the cornice, is 75 feet ; to the top of the promenade 85 feet ; from the side walk to the top of the dome 125 feet. It contains a dining hall 100 feet in length, two side dining rooms 45 feet each, together with 25 parlours, making in all 165 rooms. One thousand people can be accommodated with dinner at once, and 300 with lodgings at night. The num- ber of windows in the building is 450. Appertaining to the establishment is a well, bored 370 feet yielding, a constant supply of pure rock water, which by means of a steam engine is conveyed to every part of the building. Large cisterns are also placed in the garrets, to which hose are attached, for the purpose of conveying water freely and con- stantly — a safe guard against fire, invaluable and necessary in so extensive a building. Mr. Holt has long been known as a caterer for the palates of a large number of citizens. In the present expensive establishment, we learn that it is his intention to improve upon all his previous arrangements. Ni w-Yorlt. lWuhed by- Peabody (i Co. London. 0."Rk:]i "SalS lV'd.-l .ion Square. Ul.--bid Maivii \0A2 L,v I'Mhodv * «%. I ,..„Ur, O k,.i, M (Tiuumjily Hall m tile disUuce") Non-York. Published M.itcIi 1832. Vn- Ppnbn.1v * rv,. \.m,Ann OR,A Wn19. l^n-l.-um <;,.,, =>tp I.r.iwnl.vJ U PaWili JF.R HiM TMIE ,I'AS:K, 4 ''■'I!'.