Friday, January 13, 2023

McSorley’s Painterly New York Saloon


In 1975, during three months working in New York City,  I ventured over to McSorley’s Old Ale House for lunch, having read Joseph Mitchell’s well-known book on the saloon.   At the time I was aware of the several paintings of the famous watering hole by New York artist, John French Sloan,  I was unaware then, however, that a number of Sloan’s artist contemporaries also had memorialized John McSorley’s iconic saloon.

First, a bit about Sloan (1871-1951).  He is best known for his urban genre scenes and ability to capture the essence of neighborhood life in Gotham City.  Sloan, shown here, has been called "the premier artist of the Ashcan School who painted the inexhaustible energy and life of New York City during the first decades of the twentieth century.”  As shown above and in paintings below, McSorley’s not only was his regular drinking establishment but a favorite scene to paint.  Above is Sloan’s “McSorley’s Bar, 1912.”




In a painting called “McSorley’s Cats,”  Sloan captured John McSorley, the founder of the saloon at 15 East Seventh Street, in scene with the owner’s rat-catching pet cats.  Shown right, McSorley had arrived in America in 1851 at the age of 18.  The date on which he started his saloon is in dispute.  McSorley gave it as 1854 but others date it to 1865.  As shown below, Sloan also could capture quiet moments as in “McSorley’s Back Room.”



Sloan’s fellow Ashcan School member, George Luks (1867-1933), also painted a scene at McSorley’s.  Known for his depiction of New York City life, Luks's work typifies the real-life scenes painted by the Ashcan School artists.  At McSorleys, as shown below, the artist has captured figures at the bar, one smoking, the other reading a newspaper.  Behind them a bartender is at work.



Reginald Marsh (1898-1954) was an American painter born in Paris, most notable for his depictions of life in New York City in the 1920s and 1930s. Jobless men are subjects that appear repeatedly throughout his work.  He often worked in pen and ink and in ink wash drawings.  Here he has captured a scene in McSorley’s where a gent likely down on his luck has stopped for a beer and is trying to warm up in New York’s frigid winter by hugging the saloon stove.




Perhaps the most unusual artist to paint the interior of McSorleys was Childe Hassam.  Frederick Childe Hassam (1859 – 1935) was an American Impressionist painter, noted for his landscape and coastal pictures.  After living in France for some years, Hassam and his wife returned to the United States in 1889, taking residence in New York City. Hassam began to paint urban scenes, often using a palette of blacks and browns (considered "forbidden colors" by some Impressionists) to create his paintings.  This is evident in the dark hues Hassam used in his image of a lone drinker at McSorley’s bar.



Another artist who chose McSorley’s was Louis George Bouché (1896 – 1969), an American painter with whom I was earlier unfamiliar. Very little has been written about him.  Born in New York City, Bouché spent many years abroad and returned to teach at the Art Student’s League in New York.  A friend of Reginald Marsh, his art is not easily categorized.  Below he has captured the McSorley bar scene somewhat as Sloan had done earlier.




The cartoon of McSorley’s below is by Don Freeman (1908-1978), a student of Sloan at the Art Student’s League.  Freeman was known for carrying a sketchbook with him wherever he went. His images depicted New York City, the faces of the people he observed on the streets, and citizens down on their luck.  His pen and ink drawing here depicted some well known McSorley customers.  Note that Freeman included the potbellied stove and the cats.



My memory of lunch at McSorley’s is hazy.  I remember having a corned beef sandwich on rye that was mediocre and a glass of ale that was good.  The place seemed a bit dark and dingy, and with my historical interest satisfied, I never went back.  Below is a photo of the saloon interior as it looks today.  The bar, clock, stove, light fixtures — appear as they did in the past.  One major change:  A female bartender.  Women were not allowed in McSorley's until August 10, 1970 and it took a lawsuit to force their admittance.








































Thursday, January 5, 2023

Cato Alexander: America’s 1st Celebrity Bartender

 

Cato Alexander was born a slave, remained illiterate all his life, and is said to have known George Washington.  By dint of inherent intelligence and hard work, he rose to become the owner of a highly popular early New York City tavern and has been hailed as “America’s first celebrity bartender.”  Unfortunately there are no known images of Alexander, described as “dark-complected, broad-shouldered and sturdy… hospitable and dignified.”


While Alexander’s birth year is generally agreed as 1790, the place variously is given by historians as New York, Virginia or South Carolina.  My inclination is to the Southern states where it was illegal to teach a slave to read and write.  Early in life the boy Cato fetched up in New york City.   That is where he apparently encountered George Washington known for stopping at inns for rest and refreshment.  Because Washington died in 1799, Alexander at most would have been a groom, a young boy helping the former President from his horse and tending to the animal.


As he matured Alexander, by dint of his demonstrated abilities, found work in several New York City inns and hotels, learning both to cook and work behind the bar.  He became free in 1799 through provisions of the Act For the Gradual Abolition of Slavery, opening new opportunities for the former slave.  After a decade of working for others Alexander was able to muster sufficient resources to purchase the two-story building, shown below,  and open it as “Cato’s Tavern.”



It was an almost immediate success, favored by the local New York elites.  Among his customer base he could count the young people of  wealthy families such as the Beekmans and Van Courtlands.  Members of the Belvedere Hunting Club, a prestigious sporting organization, met there regularly, another lucrative source of revenue.  Alexander had located his watering hole strategically on what was called “The Harlem Road,” today East 54th St. and 2nd Avenue.  For young bucks with fast horses, it was ten minutes from the then city limits, then confined to the southern tip of Manhattan.  The 1800’s print below features two sporty horse traps racing up the road to Harlem, possibly competing to arrive first at Cato’s.



Once there they would have been treated with topnotch food and drink.  Alexander’s signature dishes included roast duck, fried chicken, curried oysters, and terrapin (turtle).  His food was widely hailed but took second place to his mixed drinks, among the first to be referenced as “cocktails.”  Among his most famous concoctions were his South Carolina Punch, Gin Toddy, below left, and Virginia Eggnog, right. 



 


Power

The quality of his drinks led the Irish actor Tyrone Power (father of the 1950s movie star of the same name) to declare:  “Cato is a great man.  Foremost among cullers of mint…for julep” and “Second to no man as a compounder of cock-tail.”  In 1835, the New York Mirror opined:  "Who has not heard of Cato Alexander? Not to know Cato’s is not to know the world.”  When Alexander married Eliza Jackson in 1828, the New York Evening Post printed this verse for the occasion:


                            Cato the great has changed his state,

                          From single to that of double;

May a long life with a Jackson wife

Attend him void of trouble.


Another writer, noting the frequent mention of Alexander in the press claims that: “Cato’s name became known all over the U.S….Word of mouth about his legendary [tavern] was spread as far as the tongue could wag.”


Not all New Yorkers were enthusiastic about Alexander’s success. He sometimes was harassed and threatened by whites who could not tolerate a formerly enslaved black man coming so far and rising so high in public attention and esteem.  “Trouble” resulted in the shape of brothers George and Andrew Luke who plotted to bring down Alexander.  Local tavern owners themselves, they were fiercely jealous of Cato’s success.  In January 1831 with others they headed to his tavern on the Harlem Road. They brought with them chains, clubs and other weapons.


Their plans relied on Alexander’s soft heart.  The tavern was shut tight.  Cato and Eliza were both in bed, when a loud knock was heard at the door.  Cato got up to see who it was.  Through the door a woman pleaded to him to let her in to get out of the January cold.  She said she had lost her way.  He obliged and went back to bed.  When she was assured the couple was asleep, the woman unlocked the door and let the Luke brothers and their accomplices inside.  



The intruders proceeded to wreck the interior of the tavern, smashing mirrors, bottle of liquor, and furniture.  Not content with damaging property, they attacked Cato and his wife, who was pregnant and almost beat them to death.  It took months for the couple to recover from their wounds and similar time to repair the damage to the tavern.  Eventually Alexander was able to recover and be back with a thriving business for at least 30 years.


It was not prejudice against blacks that led to Alexander’s downfall, rather it was the same generous nature that impelled him to give a warm place to a pleading woman. One of his biographers explained his downfall:  “A significant amount of Cato’s clientele were young, wealthy whites. He became friends with a lot of them, and he was known for giving out loans to those who were down on their luck in hopes of nestling his way into high society.  But also, as a man who himself started from the bottom, he knew what it was to struggle and wanted to help if he could.”


Whatever his motive, Alexander accrued considerable debt.  Whether his illiteracy prevented him from keeping accurate records or for other reasons, he 

often was not paid back by those who borrowed.  In the process, he accrued at least $100,000 in debts, equivalent to $3,000,000 today.  Alexander was ruined financially and forced to close down Cato’s Tavern.


Before long Alexander attempted a new start by opening Cato’s Oyster House in Manhattan.  It was not a success, driving the former slave even deeper in debt.

By now approaching 70 years old and in ill health, he shut down the restaurant after one year and retired.  Alexander is believed to have died in poverty in New York in February, 1858.


What made Alexander even more remarkable as a mixologist is that, illiterate, he did not have any written drinks recipes.  What he knew was the result of bar traditions passed down though the black community and his own experience.  Posthumously proclaimed “Father of Mixology,”  Alexander’s recipes have been lost in the mists of history.  


A self-described “spirits savant” named Alexi Fisher, shown here, has attempted to remedy that sad fact by teaching online courses attempting to recreate the cocktails as Cato might have made them.  She includes the well-recognized “Brandy Alexander,” unfortunately not invented by Cato but likely by another New York bartender, Troy Alexander, who held forth at the famed Rector’s restaurant.



Notes:  Resources on Cato Alexander are abundant on the Internet.  Principal among them are online articles by Sierra Lawson and David Wonderich.  The slave turned master mixologist continues to fascinate.  Above is the picture of “Cato’s Tavern made the centerpiece a quilt that recently sold online.













































Monday, January 2, 2023

Early Philadelphia Taverns & Inns: Part 2

 Foreword:  In 1908 the Robert Smith Brewery commissioned Philadelphia painter and illustrator James Moore Preston to provide it with a series of works depicting pre-Revolutionary taverns and inns in or near the “City of Brotherly Love.”  Preston created twelve color lithographs.  I find the pictures striking and believe they deserve preservation through this blog, along with some inkling of the histories of each of those early Philadelphia “watering holes.”  Six were presented in Part 1, posted on January 1.  This post completes the series.


The Blue Anchor Inn
on Front Street at Dock Creek was the oldest inn in Philadelphia, built in the decade between 1670 an 1680.  William Penn is said to have supped there upon his first arrival in the city in 1683.  Some believe that the Blue Anchor is the first structure built in Philadelphia.  The lumber is thought to have come over in the first ships to dock there.  The structure was timbered, filled in with small bricks and had the dimensions of twelve by twenty-two feet.  It has been called “the only public building” in the city for a time, a place where ship-masters, merchants and other citizens could gather.





Where Preston got his model for the Blue Anchor is unclear.  A newspaper illustration
 of the tavern shows a somewhat different building, isolated on the shore and approached by row boat.  It depicts Indians with bows and arrow looking on.  The scene in Preston’s 1908 color lithograph shows a building of at least three stories with other structures around it.  Because the contours of both are the same, my guess is that improvements over the years and the growth of Philadelphia around the tavern led to the changes.



The brewery-sponsored picture above entitles it the State House Tavern, because of its location across from the government center.  This Chestnut Street drinking establishment also was known at various times as the Half Moon, the Coach and Horses, and foremost as Clarke’s Inn.  “The table was good, and the inn became one of the chief centers of official activity.”  


Although Preston’s picture gives the structure a jaunty look, including figures bowling on the lawn,  an earlier lithograph shows a much more austere Clarke’s. Brewery founder Robert Smith in his diary related that an apprentice had ruined the malt supply by over-heating:  “I being gone to the Half Moon for dinner.”



An advertisement in the Pennsylvania Packet of March 9, 1772, by owner James Alexander announced the Black Horse Inn, located on Second Street near Callowhill, calling it a “Commodious Inn of Entertainment” and convenient for market people.  He went on describe its livery stable as “good as any in the Province,” able to stable as many as fifty horses at a time and offering “a good yard for coaches, chaises,and wagons.”  Preston has caught much of this in his drawing, with a carriage and horses as major elements.



Although Anderson did not detail the kind of entertainment the Black Horse provided, another source has described it:  “In 1805 two live porpoises were exhibited at the Black Horse and the following year the learned African Horse, “Spotie,” which had a tail like an elephant’s and a knowledge of arithmetic. The same year two royal tigers from Surat in Asia and a living sea-dog, taken on the Delaware River near Trenton, were shown.”  Although the Black Horse did brisk business through the mid-19th Century, by 1917, as shown here, it was badly deteriorated.



Depicted by Preston amid a wintery scene, the Moon and Seven Stars, standing at the southwest corner of Fourth and Chestnut Street, was one of the best known inns of its day.  Standing between the Delaware River wharves and the State House, it served both the maritime and commercial communities.  In addition:  “Several clubs made it their meeting place, and all the leaders of American thought and action enjoyed the hospitality of its tap-room or its ordinary at one time or another.”  On the lithograph, the sign of the Moon and Seven Stars appears very small.  A reproduction captures it much better.



The Three Crowns was a public house famed for the good food provided by its owner, a Mistress Jones.  It was housed in a two-story building adjoining the south end of the City Tavern (see Part 1).  It fronted on both Second Street and Walnut with a spacious courtyard that stretched to Dock Creek.  “At that house Richard Penn and other governors, generals and gentry used to be feasted.”  The sign of the Three Crowns has a distinctive accent of British royalty.



The final lithograph is of the Spread Eagle Inn.  It was located fourteen miles west of Philadelphia on the Lancaster Pike, one of the first turnpikes to be built in America.  The Spread Eagle was the first relay station and stage house west of the city.  Customers traveling on their way west as far as Pittsburgh would leave Philadelphia early in the morning and stop at the Spread Eagle for an ample breakfast.  Preston’s picture captures the moment of such an arrival as the proprietor stands in the doorway to welcome his guests.  The artist apparently took his visual clues from an earlier illustration, adding color and detail.


This building was replaced circa 1800 by a large stone tavern, also called the Spread Eagle.  About 1824, the hostelry triggered controversy when the original signboard, shown here, was altered by a local artist. He added a second neck and head to the representation of the American eagle, leading to considerable “political excitement.”  Neighbors and wagoners could not see why “our glorious bird of freedom” should be altered into a European-looking symbol.  The tavern was derided as the “Split Crow” by dissidents, causing the sign hastily to be repainted — “Americanized” once more.


James Moore Preston’s colorful and engaging 1908 art works allow a brief exploration of Philadelphia’s earliest and most historic inns and taverns, all of them but one long since disappeared.  The exception is City Tavern, seen in Part 1 of this series.  Another City Tavern has been reconstructed on the earlier site.  Said to be a replica of the original, the building appears to be significantly different from Preston’s representation.  In any case we can be grateful to the Robert Smith Brewery that commissioned these colorful images of a bygone day. 



























Sunday, January 1, 2023

Early Philadelphia Taverns & Inns: Part 1

Foreword:  In 1908 the Robert Smith Brewery commissioned Philadelphia painter and illustrator James Moore Preston to provide it with a series of works depicting pre-Revolutionary taverns and inns in or near the “City of Brotherly Love” as a way to promote its brand of beer.  Although  he has been considered a member of the Ashcan Group and exhibited in the famous 1913 Armory Show, Preston was an artist who worked in many modes.  He created color lithographs that memorialized the founding of the Smith Brewery in 1774 and eleven early Philadelphia “watering holes.”  I find the pictures striking and believe they deserve preservation through this blog, along with some inkling of the histories of each tavern and inn.  Some information was provided by the Smith lithos — and is quoted.  Other illustrations and information are the result of my research.


The first illustration is of the original brewery in Philadelphia, owned by a man named Joseph Potts and later by Henry Pepper.  In 1845 he sold out to  Robert Smith who had come to America in 1837 from England after having served an apprenticeship with the Bass Brewery there.  He died at 86 in 1893 and the business was reorganized as the Robert Smith Ale Brewing Co., owned by Schmidt’s Brewery of Philadelphia.  It is shown here as it looked about 1908.



The London Coffee House was built in 1702 at Front and Market Streets and remained intact until it was torn down in 1883.  Given that Preston drew it a quarter century later, how did he know what it looked like?  The answer lies in earlier lithographs that the artist clearly drew on to create his version.  The one shown here served as a model, right down to the four horse carriage at right.  The caption tells us:  “London Coffee House was…the center of pre-Revolutionary life in Philadelphia…where cargoes were bought and sold, slaves and good were auctioned, and the news of the day discussed.”



Amazingly, the Penny Pot House derived its name from the fact that a customer could buy a container holding about a pint of beer at the tavern for a single cent. Considered the second oldest tavern in Philadelphia, it was a landmark that stood near the docks on the Delaware River.  A Maryland guest was shocked by the revolutionary talk he heard there, retorting: “The Delegates rage windily against the King’s Blessed Majesty, which shall stand as firm as the House that was founded on the Rock.”  Preston’s recreation of the Penny Pot may been taken in part from a 1700 lithograph shown here.  Note that Preston has put the landing point closer to the water than the earlier version.



Completed about 1770, City Tavern was located on Walnut Street above Second. The Continental Congress met there in 1774, two years before the Revolution. “It was early an important place, and after the Revolution succeeded the London Coffee House as the central place of Philadelphia.”  During succeeding years the establishment underwent several name changes until the building was demolished in 1852.  My assumption is that Preston relied on a old lithograph to guide him.  In recent years the City Tavern has been reconstructed at the original site. It is said to be historically accurate.  Shown here, however, the building looks quite different from the brewery drawing.



The Indian Queen was a hotel noted for the importance of its residents.  It was the home of Robert Morris, the financier of the Revolution, and provided lodging for both George Washington and John Adams.  “Jefferson had his study in the south front room of the second story, from which arose the erroneous tradition that in this room he drafted the Declaration of Independence.”  Preston’s depiction echoes a contemporary print of the Indian Queen but features a different sign over the door.





Opened as the Washington Tavern about 1790 at Sixth and Jayne Streets, the name was changed to the Falstaff Inn in 1830.  Owned by William Warren, an actor and former theater manager, he renamed it to commemorate his own stage portrayal of Falstaff.  Not only that, he had himself painted as Shakespeare’s fat rogue on the sign that can be seen at the second floor corner. The accompanying motto reads:  “Shall I not take mine ease at my inn?”  Over the years the hotel deteriorated into little more than a flop house, as shown here, and eventually was torn down.


A second set of James Moore Preston’s illustrations will follow in a separate post tomorrow.