Independence Day while it was New

At about this period there came to America, a young Scotchman, named Grant Thorburn, who opened a shop in Liberty Street. A few years later, and for many years after, John Jacob Astor was his neighbor, having moved his own business to the same street. An interesting letter, written in Mr. Thorburn's later life, tells the story of his first Fourth of July in America, and gives several other facts, which suggest the type of life and events, which were familiar to those who peopled the little city of New York in 1794.

By this time the city contained forty thousand inhabitants. Broadway began at the Battery and terminated at the head of Warren Street. According to an old writer: "Either at church or market, we saw each other often at that period. New York was, in fact, a city of brotherly love."

Grant Thorburn 's letter is dated:

"New Haven, 6th June, 1861. Fourth of July.

The first one I saw in New York after I arrived from Scotland, the Fourth of July, 1794. I landed in New York on the 16th of June, 1794, then in my twenty-third year, but being very small, I looked ten years younger. A wrought nail-maker by trade, I had my shop in Liberty Street, between Nassau and Broadway. The school belonging to the 'Society of Friends' kept en the opposite side of the street. When the boys arrived before school doors were open, they assembled in my shop, which was a large frame building, and I was the only occupant. Here commenced a friendship with the sons of the Leggetts, the Foxes, the Franklins, the Wrights, the Willets, etc., which thirty-live years after, put eighty thousand dollars in my pockets, — but we'll describe the Fourth of July, 1794.

On the morning of the Fourth the bells rang one hour at sunrise, and thirteen guns were fired on the Battery, at the foot of Broadway, at eleven o'clock. A company of old veterans marched from the Park to the Battery, and fired another salute at twelve. They wore the old tattered uniforms and pinched up cocked hats, which they wore when fighting by the side of Washington, at the battle of Monmouth. Some had lost a leg, some an arm, and others leaned on crutches. In 1801, when Jefferson became President, I saw some of these men dismissed from the Custom House in New York; their places were filled by imported patriots; but such is the gratitude of a model Republic.

At three o'clock P. M. the Cincinnati Society dined at the Coffee House, which stood on the corner of Wall and Water Streets. The Society was composed entirely of Revolutionary Officers, and their sons. They dined on the first story. The windows were opened, and a cannon, called a six-pounder, fired a shot when each gun-toast was drunk.

At four P. M. I stood at the lower end of the Fly Market, foot of Maiden Lane; people were stepping aboard a small boat, which the oarsmen said was the Brooklyn ferry-boat. It held twelve passengers, and was rowed by two men. After waiting fifteen minutes for the passengers, we started. A strong tide setting in carried us up as far as Grand Street. We made Long Island shore near the Wallabout, then rowed down close on the Long Island shore, and landed in Brooklyn, after a passage of one-hour and ten minutes.

I stood for the first time on Long Island. I looked through the four winds of heaven, standing on the wharf. I was not able to count over twenty dwellings in all directions. About one thousand feet from the wharf right in the middle of the road, stood an old Dutch Church. The wagons going to Newtown drove on the right; the wagons going to the river, drove on the left of the church. The church stood in the days of Governor Stuyvesant.

I went forward on the road toward Newtown. A thunder storm commenced. I took shelter in a cottage by the wayside. After conversing half an hour with the inmates, the rain ceased. On returning I noticed a field of Indian corn on the wayside, the leaves and tassels hanging full of large drops of rain; the sun was going down, which made the raindrops like pearls. It was the first time I had seen corn in the blade. I thought it looked a field which the Lord had blessed. We had sky rockets in the Park at eight P. M. which closed the Fourth of July, 1794."

A second young man came to New York in the nineties, though not from the old world, with whom John Jacob Astor was destined to be closely associated in after years. John Robbins, like John Astor, longed to see the world, and try his hand at making his fortune. One day he was lucky enough to catch a muskrat. He skinned it and took the skin with him to Philadelphia, bartering it for two books—one a copy of Robinson Crusoe and the other a Bible. We have the record that the Bible was still a treasured possession in his old age.

John Robbins had an older brother Enoch, who was a shipping merchant in Old Slip, New York. His ships were not large, but he loaded them with all kinds of provisions, pork, beef, onions, etc., and sent them to the West India Islands.

"About one hundred ships came into New York in those years, of which forty were square-rigged and sixty sloops. Boats were extensively used and of course were all built here. The square-rigged vessels did not probably average over one hundred and ten tons each and not over one quarter were built and owned in New York. The largest vessels owned in New York in 1796 were about two hundred and fifty tons burden. One of two hundred was considered a large ship."

Soon after young Robbins reached New York, his brother Enoch loaded the brig "Mary" with staves for wine casks, dried codfish, and other commodities to make an assorted cargo. Then he dispatched the vessel from New York to Bilboa, in the Bay of Biscay, with his brother John as supercargo. The United States was at war with France, and a French privateer came very near capturing the "Mary," in which case John Robbins' story would have had a different ending.

It required three months to sell the cargo at Bilboa, after which the "Mary" sailed to Lisbon and disposed of her staves, and took on board, instead, a quantity of gold and silver for New York. The exporting of silver was forbidden by the Portugal government, but John Robbins had a special belt made, and every time he left the ship, he returned with a thousand Spanish dollars. In this way he gathered sixteen thousand dollars.

Then the "Mary" got under sail for St. Ubes, where she loaded with salt and returned to New York, having made a most successful voyage. The salt sold for a dollar a bushel, and John Robbins had also saved several hundred dollars.

Now that he had a small capital, he decided to give up the sea, and embark as a dry goods merchant, but not until he had learned the trade. Pearl Street was a fashionable shopping district in those days, but though John Robbins made application at store after store, he failed to find a position. At last he reached Henry Laverty's, where he asked for a clerkship, offering to work without salary in order to learn the business. Mr. Laverty accepted the offer, and after this the young Philadelphian slept in the store on the counter, rising at daybreak to open the shop and sweep it out, after which he arranged the dry goods in the windows.

A clerk in those days went through a regular course of learning the business. He first delivered goods, keeping account of the marks and the number of packages. He also received goods, again taking account of the marks and packages. A part of his task was to copy letters, and when he could do this neatly and expeditiously, he was promoted to making duplicates of letters to go by the packets. Next he copied accounts, after which he was entrusted with the responsibility of making the accounts. A clerk who had mastered these details, instructed and inspected the work of later arrivals. All these duties were the acknowledged path toward becoming a successful merchant.

At night, John Robbins closed the store and betook himself to his bed on the counter, having led a most active day. Meanwhile he was learning the qualities and values of dry goods. When his time was up, Mr. Laverty offered him first a salary, then a partnership, but young Bobbins refused both, having fully decided on going into the business for himself. He resolved at the start not to run into debt, so refused good offers of credit, starting in a modest way by carrying home his own purchases from an auction. He steadily prospered in the business, in which he had so conscientiously perfected himself.

John Robbins' mother was a capable, old-fashioned Dutch woman, who lived behind a Dutch door. With the upper half of her door swung in, and leaning over the lower half, she loved to watch what was going on in the street. Besides her neighborly sociability, she was long remembered by her son's friends, for her culinary skill—the flavor of her coffee, and the delectable taste of her pies and cake leaving a long trail of happy remembrance behind them.