As I Remember
the Rev. Dr. Edward B. Boggs of that city. His trial was of sensational
interest, and resulted, as will be remembered, in his conviction. The
attitude of the Tyngs, father and son, was humorously described by
Anthony Bleecker, a well-known wit of the day, in these verses:
_Tyng, Junior._
I preach from barrels and from tubs,
In spite of Boggs, in spite of Stubs;
I'll preach from stumps, I'll preach from logs,
In spite of Stubs, in spite of Boggs.
_Tyng, Senior._
Do, Steve; and lay aside your gown,
Your bands and surplice throw them down;
A bob-tail coat of tweed or kersey
Is good enough at least for Jersey.
_Tyng, Junior._
What if the Bishops interfere,
And I am made a culprit clear;
Can't you a thunderbolt then forge,
And hurl it in the new St. George?
_Tyng, Senior._
Be sure I can and out of spite
A wrathy sermon I'll indite;
I'll score the court and every judge
And call the whole proceedings fudge;
And worse than that each reverent name
I'll bellow through the trump of fame;
With Bishop Potter I'll get even,
And make you out the martyr Stephen.
The Rev. Dr. Orville Dewey, renowned for his intellectual attainments,
preached in the Unitarian church in Mercer Street. In subsequent years
his sermons were published and I understand are still read with much
interest and pleasure. Archbishop John Hughes, whom I knew quite well,
was the controlling power in the Roman Catholic Church. He possessed the
affectionate regard of the whole community, and naturally commanded a
wide influence. A Roman Catholic told me many years ago that, upon one
of the visits of the Archbishop to St. Peter's church, he took the
congregation to task for their exclusiveness, exclaiming: "You lock up
your pews and exclude the marrow of the land."
I knew very well the Rev. Charles Constantine Pise, the first
native-born Catholic to officiate in St. Joseph's church on Sixth
Avenue. He was of Italian parentage and was remarkable for his great
physical attractiveness. In addition to his fine appearance, he was
exceedingly social in his tastes and was consequently a highly agreeable
guest. He cultivated the muses to a modest degree, and I have several of
his poetical effusions, one of which was addressed to me. In spite of
the admiration he commanded from both men and women, irrespective of
creed, life seemed to present to him but few allurements. Archbishop
Hughes sent him to a small Long Island parish where, after laboring long
and earnestly, he closed his earthly career. An anecdote is related of
this pious man which I believe to be true. A young woman quite forgetful
of the proprieties and conventionalties of life, but with decided
matrimonial proclivities, made Father Pise an offer of her fortune,
heart and hand. In a dignified manner he advised her to give her heart
to God, her money to the poor, and her hand to the man who asked for it.
Prior to his rectorship of St. Joseph's church in New York, Father Pise,
who was an intimate friend of Henry Clay, served as Chaplain of the U.S.
Senate during a portion of the 22d Congress. At the National Capital as
well as in New York he was exceptionally popular, making many converts,
especially among young women, and preaching to congregations in churches
so densely crowded that it was difficult to obtain even standing room.
I cannot pass the Roman Catholic clergy without some reference to the
Rev. Felix Varela, a priest of Spanish descent and, it is said, of noble
birth, who was sent from Cuba to Spain as one of the deputies to the
Cortes from his native island. His church was St. Peter's in Barclay
Street. It would be difficult for any words to do justice to his life of
self-abnegation or to his adherence to the precepts of his Divine
Master. It is with pleasure, therefore, that I relate the following
story, for the truth of which I can vouch. A policeman found a handsome
pair of silver candlesticks in the custody of a poor unfortunate man,
and as they bore upon them a distinctive coat of arms he arrested him.
On his way to prison the suspected criminal begged to see Father Varela
for a moment, and as his residence was _en route_ to the station house
the officer granted his request. This good priest informed the policeman
with much reluctance that the candlesticks had formerly belonged to
him, and that he had given them to his prisoner to buy bread for his
family. My father was so deeply in sympathy with the life and character
of this priest that, although of a different faith, he seldom heard his
name mentioned without an expression of admiration for his life and
character.
There was a French Protestant church in Franklin Street ministered to by
the Rev. Dr. Antoine Verren, whose wife was a daughter of Thomas
Hammersley. I also remember very well a Presbyterian church on Laight
Street, opposite St. John's Park, the rector of which was the Rev. Dr.
Samuel H. Cox, an uncle of the late Bishop Arthur Cleveland Cox of the
Episcopal Church. Dr. Cox was a prominent abolitionist, and when we were
living on Hubert Street, just around the corner, this church was stoned
by a mob because the rector had expressed his anti-slavery views too
freely.
The mode of conducting funerals in former days in New York differed very
materially from the customs now in vogue. While the coffins of the
well-to-do were made entirely of mahogany and without handles, I have
always understood that persons of the Hebrew faith buried their dead in
pine coffins, as they believed this wood to be more durable.
Pall-bearers wore white linen scarfs three yards long with a rosette of
the same material fastened on one shoulder, which, together with a pair
of black gloves, was always presented by the family. It was originally
the intention that the linen scarf should be used after the funeral for
making a shirt. Funerals from churches were not as customary as at the
present time. If the body was to be interred within the city limits
every one attending the services, including the family, walked to the
cemetery. It was unusual for a woman to be seen at a funeral.
But the whole social tone of New York society was more _de rigueur_ than
now. Sometimes, for example, persons living under a cloud of
insufficient magnitude to place them behind prison bars, feeling their
disgrace, took flight for Texas. Instead of placing the conventional
_P.P.C._ on their cards the letters _G.T.T._ were used, meaning that the
self-expatriated ne'er-do-well had "gone to Texas." I have always
understood that in Great Britain the transgressor sought the Continent,
where he was often enabled to pass into oblivion. In this manner both
countries were relieved of patriots who "left their country for their
country's good." As an example, I remember hearing in my early life of
an Englishman named de Roos, who had the unfortunate habit of arranging
cards to suit his own fancy. When his _confreres_ finally caught him in
the act he left hurriedly for the Continent.
In 1842 the U.S. sloop of war _Somers_ arrived in New York, and the
country was startled by the accounts of what has since been known as the
"Somers Mutiny." The Captain of the ship was Commander Alexander Slidell
Mackenzie, whose original surname was Slidell. He was a brother of the
Hon. John Slidell, at one time U.S. Senator from Louisiana, who, during
the Civil War, while on his passage to England on the _Trent_ as a
representative of the Southern Confederacy in England, was captured by
Captain Charles Wilkes of the U.S. Navy. The result of the alleged
mutiny was the execution, by hanging at the yard arm, of Philip Spencer,
a son of the celebrated New York lawyer, John C. Spencer, President
Tyler's Secretary of War, and of two sailors, Samuel Cromwell and Elisha
Small. It was charged that they had conspired to capture the ship and
set adrift or murder her officers. Being far from any home port, and
uncertain of the extent to which the spirit of disaffection had
permeated the crew, Mackenzie consulted the officers of his ship as to
the proper course for him to pursue. In accordance with their advice,
and after only a preliminary examination of witnesses and no formal
trial with testimony for the defense, they were, as just stated,
summarily executed.
I speak from the point of view of the legal element of New York, as my
father's associates were nearly all professional men. The world was
aghast upon receiving the news that three men had been hurled into
eternity without judge or jury. Spencer was a lad of less than nineteen
and a midshipman. Although Captain Mackenzie's action was sustained by
the court of inquiry, which was convened in his case, as well as by the
_esprit de corps_ of the Navy, public feeling ran so high that a court
martial was ordered. His trial of two months' duration took place at the
Brooklyn Navy Yard, and resulted in a verdict of "not proven." The
judge-advocate of the court was Mr. William H. Norris of Baltimore, and
Mackenzie was defended by Mr. George Griffith and Mr. John Duer, the
latter of whom was the distinguished New York jurist and the uncle of
Captain Mackenzie's wife. At the request of the Hon. John C. Spencer,
Benjamin F. Butler and Charles O'Conor, leaders of the New York bar,
formally applied for permission to ask questions approved by the court
and to offer testimony, but the request was refused--"so that," as
Thomas H. Benton expressed it, "at the long _post mortem_ trial which
was given to the boy after his death, the father was not allowed to ask
one question in favor of his son." After a lapse of sixty-nine years,
judging from Mackenzie's report to the Navy Department, it almost seems
as if he possessed a touch of mediaeval superstition. He speaks of
Spencer giving money and tobacco to the crew, of his being extremely
intimate with them, that he had a strange flashing of the eye, and
finally that he was in the habit of amusing the sailors by making music
with his jaws. Mackenzie in his official report stated that this lad
"had the faculty of throwing his jaw out of joint and by contact of the
bones playing with accuracy and elegance a variety of airs." James
Fenimore Cooper stated it as his opinion, "that such was the obliquity
of intellect shown by Mackenzie in the whole affair, that no analysis
of his motives can be made on any consistent principle of human action;"
and the distinguished statesman, Thomas H. Benton, whose critical and
lengthy review of the whole case would seem to carry conviction to
unprejudiced minds, declared that the three men "died innocent, as
history will tell and show."
The proceedings of the Mackenzie trial were eagerly read by an
interested public. As I remember the testimony given regarding Spencer's
last moments upon earth, Mackenzie announced to the youthful culprit
that he had but ten minutes to live. He fell at once upon his knees and
exclaimed that he was not fit to die, and the Captain replied that he
was aware of the fact, but could not help it. It is recorded that he
read his Bible and Prayer-Book, and that the Captain referred him to the
"penitent thief;" but when he pleaded that his fate would kill his
mother and injure his father, Mackenzie made the inconsiderate reply
that the best and only service he could render his father was to die.
I recall a conversation bearing upon the _Somers_ tragedy which I
overheard between my father and his early friend, Thomas Morris, when
their indignation was boundless. The latter's son, Lieutenant Charles W.
Morris, U.S.N., had made several cruises with the alleged mutineer
Cromwell. Meeting Mackenzie he stated this fact, saying at the same time
that he found him a well-disposed and capable seaman. Mackenzie quickly