Chapter XXX

Poor Charles Leupp, who died suddenly not long ago, belonged to the hide and leather merchants, whose sphere of a ction is called "The Swamp." Alluding upon one oc asion to the great men from that locality—such as Jacob Lorillard, Abraham Bloodgood, Israel Corse, David Bryson, Gideon Lee, Peter McCartee, William Kumbel, Abraham Polhemus, Richard Cunningham, Hugh McCormick, Shepherd Knapp, Thomas Everett, Jonathan Thorne, the Brookeses, James George and Thomas, Peter Bonnett, Henry Orttedy, Daniel Tooker, and other lights, the lamented Charles—(who was also a great leather merchant, and had been at one time a partner and son-in-law, of Gideon Lee and Shepherd Knapp) said:

"The Roman mother Cornelia, when asked to display her jewels, pointed to her sons. So can we, to these (leather and hide) fathers and claim them as ours. Let us cherish their example, and emulate their noble qualities, so that hereafter our successors may, in like manner, be not ashamed of any of us, but exclaim:

"He, too, was a Swamper!"

That Swamp is a wonderful place. I can remember it well, when it was all a lot of tan vats. I have seen some of those great names above alluded to. They were great in their day and generation. But long before their time tanneries existed in the "Swamp."

A couple of hundred years ago, when people talked Dutch in the small town, they called that part of the town, "Greppel Bosch," which means in English a "swamp or marsh covered with wood." The trees were cut down long ago, but the name "Swamp" is retained to this day.

The land adjoining the Swamp, extending to Pearl and Rose, including what is now called Vandewater street, belonged in 1683 to Balthazar Bayard. A part of it afterwards in 1783—a hundred years later—was sold to the widow of Hendrick Vandewater, after whom that street was named.

I cannot tell how early the tan-yards were commenced there, but in 1744, Van Hook, Anthony & Stevens, and Becine & Rips, all had tan-yards in the "Swamp."

Jacob street and Skinner street existed at the time, and the other boundaries of the "Swamp" were Gold, Frankfort, Ferry, and Queen (Pearl). Frankfort only came to Skinner street (one part changed to Cliff and the other part to Hague street). Flack street ran from Skinner to Queen (now Pearl). Flack is now changed to Frankfort street.

Jacob street was named after Gov. Jacob Leisler, whose farm or estate adjoined the "Swamp," and extended as far as Chatham street, half way from Frankfort to Pearl, on that line. It was confiscated in 1691, upon conviction of his attainder, and afterwards restored to him by the act of parliament, reversing his attainder. Poor Jacob was hung and buried in his own garden. The grave was about fifty feet from Chatham, near the spot where French's Hotel now stands. No houses stood nearer than Beekman street to the spot as late as 1732. About that time his body was dug up and removed to the Dutch Reformed church burying ground in Garden (Exchange street,) where Dr. Mathews, who still lives, preached so many years.

These streets were all in the "Montgomerie Ward" in 1744.

Within the recollection of many of our readers, the space bounded by Jacob, Gold, Ferry and Frankfort streets, was nothing but tan yards or vats. There were no houses. The houses on the opposite sides to the vat square were small buildings. There was not a three story house in that vicinity. How changed now!

Among the tanners or leather dealers that I recollect, was Israel Corse. He was Quaker, and born in Chestertown, Maryland, in 1769. He lost his father when an infant. His mother married again; and when young Israel arrived at the age of seventeen years, not liking the new male parent, he ran away from home, and apprenticed himself to a tannery in Camden, Delaware. There he served out his time, and when he had finished he was worth seventy-five cents. Nothing daunted, he commenced business upon that small capital. Not long after, he married Lydia Troth, a farmer's daughter, residing at Dover Bridge, near Eason, in Maryland. She brought him some $4,000 or $5,000, besides being a most amiable, prudent, and industrious wife. Mr. Corse remained in Camden until he accumulated by his own honest exertion the sum of $10,000. He lost several children by death; only one, Barney, survived, and came to New York when his father Israel removed thither in 1803. In New York Israel Corse went into business in the Swamp with George Ferguson, under the firm of Ferguson & Corse, at No. 14 Jacob street. His residence was at No. 6 Vandewater street, then a very respectable part of the town. The house is still standing. Some years after he bought No. 7, (opposite,) where he lived many years, until he removed to a house he bought in East Broadway, near Rutgers, where he died in 1842. The house was afterwards sold to, and is now occupied by Dr. Leveredge.

Mr. Corse soon found that Ferguson was sadly embarrassed with old affairs, so he dissolved the concern after a partnership of five years, and in 1808 continued the business under his own name. Mr. Ferguson never got into business again, and died a few years ago at the advanced age of 84 years.

Israel Corse had a son (Barney) and a daughter (Lydia) by his first wife. He married a second wife after he reached New York. By her he had two more children, Israel and Mary, who survive.

Barney Corse married a daughter of the late Samuel Leggett. Lydia Corse married Jonathan Thorne.

Israel married a daughter of Morris Ketchum; Mary married W. H. Polk, the pet brother of President James K. Polk. She died in 1849, leaving one son, Jas. K. Polk, Jr. Wm. H. Polk is known in this community as the wildest sort of a fast man. So he was at one time in his career. But now, all that is changed; he neither drinks, swears, or gambles. He is a teetotaler, and a member of the church.

John Tyler appointed him minister to Naples (Charge d'Affaires.) He raised Ned out there, and at last resigned and came home. His brother willingly gave him a commission in the army, when war raged with Mexico, (the only favor he willingly granted, as he hoped his brother would die a glorious death, instead of an ig-nominious one.) He did not, however; and has, since the war, been elected to Congress from Tennessee. When James K. Polk found that he was going to die in the summer of 1849, he called his wife into the room, where he had a lawyer, and requested her to dictate a will. She refused. He said, "I shall leave all to you." She begged him not to do so, and suggested that his brother William was the true heir. "He will go to the devil fast enough without any property to squander," said the dying chief, and added, "if he ever reforms you can use your own judgment in letting him have money." Finally Mrs. Polk consented (they had no children of their own) and the property of the President went to his wife. William H. Polk is now an honor to the President. He annoyed the latter awfully in his life time.

To return to the firm of old Israel Corse. He kept on business at 14 Jacob street for many years in his own name. In 1821 he took into the concern his son Barney, and the firm was Israel Corse & Son, until 1830, when the old gentleman retired, and B. Corse invited his brother-in-law, Jonathan Thorne, to come into the concern, and the firm was continued for two years, when Barney retired. Then Jonathan continued the business alone for a few years, when he took in his brother-in-law Israel, and Anson Lapham, who married his sister, and the firm was Jonathan Thorne & Co. They did business at 14 Jacob street. In 1840 the firm removed from 14 Jacob street to a new store at 18 Ferry street, that cost $27,000, where the business is still continued by Jonathan Thorne and partner, who is very rich. Jonathan was from Dutchess county, and he was in the dry goods business some years.

In 1840 Thorne & Corse took in a Mr. Watson, who had purchased the interest of Lapham, and the firm was changed to Corse, Thorne & Co.

Some time after Israel retired, and Mr. Thorne took into partnership his eldest son Edwin and his book-keeper Mr. Ely, who had bought Israel Corse's share, now Watson, Thorne & Co.

The Thorne name has been made famous by this family, not only for the connection with the selling of cattle, skins, hides, etc., but with the raising of cattle. The elder Thorne always had a remarkable attachment to splendid cattle. He has a place called Thorndale.

One son devoted himself to this sole business. He imports the best breeds of cattle, such as Durham, etc., to be found in Europe, and pays prices almost fabulous.

He recently married Miss Van Cowenhoven, a step-daughter of Joel Wolfe in the Fifth avenue. Among the presents old Jonathan Thorne and others gave to the bride were massive sets of silver, ornamented with "bull's heads." The plate presented by the father of the groom amounted to $20,000. Mr. Thorne the elder is a most excellent man. He is an honor to the city and the "Swamp." Old Israel Corse thought the world of him. He is shrewd. So are all Quakers, for that matter. A soft Quaker would be as great a curiosity as a dissipated Hebrew.

When Israel Corse was an apprentice to the tanyard business, a thief stole a mare in the village. She had a colt and it was following her. "Stop thief," cried the neighbors. "Catch the colt," cried Israel. The colt was caught, and the quick wit of the young Quaker was apparent. The thief was caught, for the mare would not move a step after she missed her colt.

For forty and odd years Israel Corse was a most inveterate tobacco chewer. He chewed at all times, except when asleep, and before breakfast in the morning. He made up his mind that it injured him and left it off, and improved his good health, and lived to a good old age. Few tobacco chewers are aware how much they shorten their lives by the awful and fearful practice.

Israel Corse was one of that devoted band that rid New York of the curse of lotteries, and made the selling of lottery tickets a crime. One celebrated man named Aaron Clark was made mayor. He was a great lottery seller, and made a fortune by it. So did Gregory of Jersey City—so did many others. Ever since, it has become a crime to deal in lotteries. People in this city have coined money in it. Witness the celebrated brothers, Ben and Fernando Wood,—one a member of Congress and the other mayor! Ben, it is said, has often spouted a pair of boots to obtain fifty cents with which to operate in policies, and finally, when he became a policy dealer himself and the backer, made a sum sufficient to buy a few illegal lottery privileges down South, and out of it clears annually a few hundred thousand dollars, ruining thousands of virtuous but poor families. What a pity that no Israel Corse is alive now, to follow up such men with the law, and prosecute them for their criminality.

The Swamp was once the scene of a great deal of fun, in consequence of the discovery of a well in Jacob street, that contained "mineral water." I think it was in 1826 or thereabouts. The citizens all ran wild. Saratoga was forgotten. A mineral spring was found in Jacob street! "Sixpence" a drink, was charged.

Old Jacob Hays, high constable of the city, was a great believer in that new found mineral water. He drank it himself, and he carried it to his home in bottles, and believed that he derived great benefits from its use. At last it was blown; the excitement was subdued by the fact that the well was supplied from the old tan vats that had been covered over.

Among other great men of the Swamp, was Jacob Lorillard, tanner, currier and hide dealer. He died about twenty-two years ago, a man about sixty-eight or seventy years old. He had brothers who were in the tobacco business in Chatham street, and their sons are still so. I believe there were three brothers in the tobacco business—George, Peter, and another whose name I forget. I have a faint recollection that Peter was wounded in Chatham street, near the Hall of Records. The old debtor's jail stood there, and one night the prisoners tried to make their escape. Peter Lorillard came over from the tobacco store to assist in securing them, and was shot.

I may be wrong. It is among my earliest recollections.

Doctor Francis could tell all about it, but poor old gentleman, he stepped out at three in the morning of the dreadful hurricane performance of the 7th and 8th inst. The doctor was as jovial a good old soul as ever breathed. He could tell amusing stories. He will be a pleasant fellow for a chat in the other world, if talking is allowed there and will have the pleasure of renewing his acquaintance with Abernethy, Cuvier, Gall, Brewester and Walter Scott, men of note, that the doctor could tell famous anecdotes about, for he had known them personally. To return to Jacob Lorillard, of the Swamp. In his day he had a large tannery on the corner of Pearl and Ferry streets and his currying shop was in Jacob street. He had a clerk—Ogden E. Edwards—who succeeded him in business.

Ogden Edwards, a son, I believe, of William Edwards, a tanner in Elizabethtown, N. J. The latter, in 1784, was apprenticed to his uncle, Colonel Matthias Ogden, who was also a tanner and currier.

Colonel Edwards was a very smart man. When twenty years old he went from Elizabethtown, in 1790, to Northampton, Mass., and there commenced a tannery, erected a bank, mill, etc. In 1794 he sent the first leather ever sent from old Hampshire to Boston. He invented the copper heater so long used by the trade. When dry hides began to appear, he commenced his hide mill and perfected his rolling machine. The appearance of the new leather in this city startled the Swamp, and induced Jacob Lorillard to make a long journey to the works to see how the thing was done. It was probably on this visit that Jacob became acquainted with the young Ogden Edwards, who was to succeed him in his business.

Colonel Edwards induced a young shoemaker, who bought leather of him in Northampton in 1836, to come to New York. He offered him a salary of a thousand dollars a year. It was accepted. That young shoemaker was Gideon Lee. A year after he reached here he commenced business in the Swamp as a currier, tanner and leather dealer, in a Ferry street wooden shanty.

Gideon Lee had in after years a clerk and afterwards partner, named Shepherd Knapp. The latter reached the city about 1815. For a long time (to 1839) he did business under the firm of Gideon Lee & Co. Mr. Knapp is one of the most useful of our citizens. He is President of the Mechanics' Bank.

Old Gideon Lee was a stern man. For many years he lived in Bond street, in a marble front house, nearly opposite where Burdell was killed. That street in 1830 was the fashionable part of the town. At No. 1 lived Dr. Francis before alluded to, and his brother-in-law Samuel Ward, of the firm of Prime, Ward & King. Eli Hart, the great flour merchant, lived next door to Mr. Lee. James G. King also lived in Bond street.

Most of the people who live in that street now are surgeon dentists. It is proposed that it shall be called Dentist street.

Mr. Lee was alderman of the twelfth ward (then—1828—comprising Bond street as well as up to Harlem river). He was once a member of the State legislature in 1822. In 1833 he was our mayor. When Mr. Lee was run for alderman, Peter Cooper was elected assistant alderman.

Mr. Lee was the last mayor elected by the common council. That year (1883) the system of election of mayor was amended, and in 1834, for the first time, was submitted to the people. The contest was between G. C. Verplanck and Cornelius W. Lawrence. The latter was elected, receiving 17,575 votes; the other received 17,372.

In 1836 Mr. Lee was elected to Congress. In 1838 he left New York and went to reside at Geneva, where he had purchased a splendid property. He died in that village in August 1841, aged sixty-four. He left sons and daughters and a large fortune.

Peter McCartee was a famed Swamp man in his day. He died about twenty-five years ago. He was a currier and resided at No. 12 Jacob street, on the east side. He was at least seventy-eight years old when he died, in 1835.

Richard Cunningham was a tanner and currier, and also "morocco manufacturer." He had his tannery and manufactory near the old powder house and sun fish pond, at the foot of Murray Hill. He died as late as 1840, aged seventy-five years.

He had two partners. One was named Hugh McCormick, and the other was John Murray. They did business under the firm of Cunningham & McCormick, at the place above named. Mr. McCormick died in 1827, aged about fifty-two years.

Thomas Everett was a tanner, having his tannery at Brooklyn and his hide store in the Swamp. He died about twenty years ago, aged seventy. His son, Valentine Everett, succeeded him in the same business.

Thomas Brooks was a general dealer, and did business in Partition street. He retired about twenty years ago, and died in 1855, aged sixty-eight years. William Kumbell is probably the oldest merchant in the Swamp. He is a tanner and currier and patent band manufacturer, and has done business in Ferry street since 1812—forty-eight years ago—and continues to do business there yet.

James and George Brooks, tanners and leather dealers, did business in Greenwich street for a long time, and afterwards removed to the Swamp. They commenced about 1820, and James continues business yet in Spruce street, under the firm of James Brooks & Co. Some of the more ancient dwellers in the Swamp, whose names belong to the history of the city, were:

First, Abraham Polhemus. He was a famed tanner and currier. His tannery was in Ferry street, and extended to Jacob street. He and two others named below—Tooker and Ortley—occupied with their tanneries nearly the whole block bounded by Ferry, Jacob, Frankfort, and Gold streets. Mr. Polhemus died in 1815, aged eighty years.

Henry Ortley, before mentioned, was a tanner and had his tannery in Frankfort street, extending from the corner of Jacob to the corner of Gold street, on which last corner he had his dwelling-house. He died in 1812, in his sixty-fifth year.

Daniel Tooker died in 1805 (two years after Israel Corse started business), aged eighty-three years. His immense tannery was in Jacob street, and extended through to Gold.

Peter Bonnett had a large tannery on the corner of Skinner street (now Cliff), extending to the present blacksmith shop. This he occupied until 1810. He died in 1854, aged eighty-five years.

"All these men were Swampers."