December 22, 2024
Shepard Kollock

      About this time of the year the directories for New York and Brooklyn make their annual appearance, and it has occurred to me that a glance at a very curious little book I recently came across–a gem in its way–and which was none other than the first regular directory ever issued of New York city, might be acceptable to my readers. To contrast this little volume with the mammoth directories of to-day is to get a popular idea of the growth of New York.

      The first New York Directory was printed in 1746 [1786], by Shepperd Pollock [Shepard Kollock], at the corner of Wall and Wales streets, the office of the directory bein’ at the Merchant’s Coffee House, which next to the King’s Arms, was the leadin’ “hotel” (or inn) in New York.

      The chief feature of this original–and very original–directory was a map of the city, which would hardly be recognizable to-day. In this map Broadway stops at what is now Barclay street (it hardly begins there now), and the “Bowery lane” ends at what is now Grand street. Between Bowery lane and Broadway stretches “the Fresh Water Pond,” and beyond Grand street runs “the Boston Road.”

1786 New York City Map (Noah Webster reprint of the 1786 Directory

      The directory proper, or list of names, embraces 926 names.

Kollock 1786 Directory

      In the street guide, which accompanies the map, Liberty street is called Crown street (just its opposite), Pearl street is Queen street, Cedar is Little Queen, William street is Duke street, Fulton street is Fair street, Exchange place is known as Garden street, Spruce street is George street, John street is Golden Hill, and South William is King George street.

      The directory contains, under the head of “Political,” a “call” for “a meeting of the Society for the Manumission of Slaves who have been or may be liberated” at the coffee house. So there were “abolitionists” in New York over a century and a third ago!

      There is the usual amount of “almanac” business and “astronomical calculations,” a table of English currency–there was no American currency then–and a lot of miscellaneous odds and ends.

      Another directory, which I was lucky enough to get hold of, was published in 1802. There are not probably a hundred men or women now livin’ in New York who were born when this directory was issued. It shows how greatly New York had improved since the first directory–it bein’ three times the size of the former book, and a great deal handsomer. It is called “Longworth’s American Almanac and City Directory for the twenty-seventh year of American Independence.” This directory is a sort of “literary” production. It opens with selections from Shakespeare’s plays and an announcement of “the pictures now on exhibition at the Shakespeare Gallery.” This “Shakespeare Gallery,” by the bye, speaks well for the dramatic and poetical taste of early New York; there is really nothin’ to equal it in the New York of to-day. Some of the pictures were very fine. People used to make journeys from Philadelphia and other cities to see it. One Philadelphia paper spoke of it as “the only respect in which New York surpasses Philadelphia.”

Longworth’s 1802 Directory

     This directory also contains notices of various “patriotic” pictures of Washington and his career, illustratin’ the intense admiration then felt for that great man. Among the other pictures noticed was one of John the Baptist, said to be really a work of art. Admission to the picture gallery was then only “one shilling,” or twelve and one-half cents.

      Among the miscellaneous matter inserted in this directory were a list of stamp duties, a list of butcher stalls at the Fly, Oswego, Hudson, Catharine and Exchange markets (all of ‘em except one wiped out now), and a number of personal advertisements, such as “R. C. Skinner, 64 Fair street, surgeon dentist” who dealt alike “in artificial teeth and eyes,” and who refused to make any charge for his work unless it was proved that “he equaled, if not excelled, any operator on the face of the earth.”

      The names in New York embraced 12,012, and there was a Brooklyn appendix embracing 212 names. “As some mistakes were unavoidable in a work of this magnitude (?),” said a card at the beginnin’ of the book, “any who find their address wrong will please forward their card to the house in which they are stated to reside, and the kindness of occupants will no doubt direct that this card will be so placed as to be seen by those who may apply.”

      Among the special features of the directory was an announcement of the American Museum, No. 71 Chatham street. There, accordin’ to the advertisement, “birds, beasts and reptiles are exhibited to the world; the wax figures represent characters alike in remote and recent times, noted for their sanctity, beauty, ferocity or bulk; the whole collection warranted to furnish the most solid instruction in natural history, and to inspire the inquiring mind with a due remembrance of the Cause of all things.”

      A third interestin’ early directory was issued in 1811. This contained 355 pages, 17,500 New York names and 402 Brooklyn names. This book was full of poetry–a very “flowery” directory indeed. A number of stories were also well told in it, and altogether this directory was a deal more entertainin’ than any of its successors. It was more like a magazine than a directory. Among the advertisements in this work was a curious one, illustratin’ the time. Martin Robbesson, No. 49 Maiden Lane, gave notice that he was prepared to make umbrellas of all kinds, as well as do good work as a whalebone cutter, turner and brass worker. His “card” “winds up” with the statement that “since the beginning of the late embargo, and the continual disagreeable conjuncture of foreign affairs” “alludin’ to the second war with England), he is prepared to make every separate article required in an umbrella himself, and he invites “any and every gentleman friendly to home manufactures” to call and see in person the advances which have been made in umbrella makin’ at the shop of the undersigned.

      Among the other advertisements is one informin’ “the publick” that “Flushing and Jamaica coaches leave Brooklyn daily at 3 o’clock P. M. Stages for Rockaway leavin’ Brooklyn every Wednesday and Saturday only.”

      Next to this card is displayed the advertisement of the Washington Gardens, Spring and Greenwich streets, “the only public garden which can really be said to give an idea of the country in the town–only one mile from the City Hall–where the public can always refresh ‘emselves with the best of wines and liquors at the most reasonable expense. Accommodation for man and beast.

      The directory of 1811 contains the following “Address to the Reader:” “For a work of such magnitude as this, its sale is not large enough. My labor has been my own reward. Secure to me 2,000 purchasers and I will engage to publish it at one dollar and pay more attention to it than it has yet received. THE PUBLISHER.”

      A still later and rather curious New York directory is that of Longworth, published in 1839. The title page of this volume bears the following inscription: “He who steals my purse steals trash, but he who borrows my directory filches me most shamefully.”

      Again, further on in the volume, occurs this notice:

      “The shameful practice of borrowin’ the directory which is still maintained by many of the so-called most respected and wealthy merchants of New York deserves the severest reprobation. The character of many of these parties is really as flimsy as the excuses they offer for borrowin’ instead of buyin’ the book.”

      The directory of 1839 contains twice as many names as the one precedin’ it, and from that date onward the increase in the size of the New York directory has been on a par almost with the increase of New York city itself.

[Editor’s notes: The above column demonstrates how remote history seemed to those living before the advent of recording media–the only repositories of the past were books, memoirs, and the memories of those living. The “Harry Hill’s Gotham” writer considered old city directories as precious relics. Indeed they are, but in the 21st century they are also immediately available to all:]

Although we can only imagine what New York’s Shakespeare Gallery looked like, the 1796 and 1813 British versions have been recreated online by the University of Texas:

https://www.whatjanesaw.org/index.php