The papers have been full lately of the troubles in Parson Newman’s church, and his row with Deacon Doctor Ranney, and I heard the other day a good old friend of mine over in Flushin’, a first-class Christian farmer, and the head of a family, regrettin’ all this unseemly disturbance, as if it were unparalleled, whereas the fact is that in times past there are more rows about religion and among religious people than there are to-day. The troubles in Parson Newman’s church are nothin’–absolutely child’s play–when compared to the fusses that used to take place in the Old Dutch churches of New York.
There were three things which churchgoin’ people used to differ about in those days, and three parties were formed in regard to ‘em.
First there was what was called the independence of the churches; some held that the church is here ought to have nothin’ to do with the churches across the water, but stand on their own merits; others, on the contrary, looked to the old country to set the fashions in religion as in dress.
Then there was the question of the language that was to be used in the churches. Some were for holdin’ the church services wholly in the original Dutch; others were for having the services entirely in English, so that people who had forgot the original Dutch could understand what was goin’ on.
And lastly, there was the question of music. Some were for havin’ the music entirely vocal, as it used to be in Holland, others were for havin’ the fiddle introduced. That was before the days of the melodeon or organ.
Well, you can easily see that there was plenty of room to quarrel about, and there were not only three regular parties–or rather six–divided on these questions but there were various shades of differences of opinions among the members of the same party. For instance, two men might be in favor of havin’ the services in the English language, but yet these two might differ on the church music point and the church independence point. So that all together on the three points and their combinations or differences, there could be eighteen different shades of opinion. Just think of the possibilities for fightin’ offered by eighteen different shades of opinion on either politics or religion.
The earlier built Dutch churches in New York were all very old style, and their people were all brought up to no independence, no music and no English language in the churches. But the Middle Dutch Church in Nassau street was half-and-half, services bein’ held sometimes in English and sometimes in the original Dutch; and at last the North Church in William street was built for the express purpose of havin’ the services conducted altogether in English.
The North Dutch Church was quite a stylish structure for its time, with a tall and rather elaborate steeple. It stood right next to a popular tavern with the sign displayed of horse and cart; hence the original name of William street, Horse and Cart lane. The church structure cost over $60,000, which was then more than $600,000 is to-day.
In order to get the money all raised the trustees did a smart thing.
They had lots of pillars put up inside the church, and everybody who gave a big sum of money had his name inscribed on one of these “memorial” pillars. This was makin’ personal vanity serve a religious purpose, and showed cleverness on the part of the managers. The church havin’ been built, was opened under the charge of Pastor Laidlee, who could talk English as well as he could Dutch, and who preached in both languages, givin’ his hearers Dutch in the morning and English in the afternoon.
After a while Parson Livingston, one of the old Livingston family, took charge of the church, and he went one step further than Laidlee, and droppin’ the Dutch went in for the English altogether. And then there was a circus with the other churches. Durin’ the progress of the church circus there were several very curious episodes.
One family who went to the South Dutch Church, when it was all Dutch, refused to have any social relations with another family because they attended the Dutch Church where it was all English. A young lady whose parents were for all-Dutch broke off her engagement with a young man because he was in favor of all-English, and things of this sort.
But it got to be worse than this. Opposin’ factions got quarrelin’ in some of the churches, right in the sacred edifices. The Middle Dutch Church on Nassau street, where they tried the half-English, half-Dutch plan, was the worst of the lot in this respect. Once the all-Dutch party locked the doors on the all-English party in the congregation and the all-English had to stay outside in the cold, while the all-Dutch sung their hymns with extra spirit in the warm nice church. But the next Sunday the all-English party got to the church a half an hour earlier than even the all-Dutch party, and now the all-English had the fancy singin’ in the nice warm church, while the all-Dutch had to stay out in the snow and freeze while listenin’ to ‘em. But it got to be worse than ever when on one memorable occasion the all-English party had arranged for an all-English dominie to speak from the pulpit, and the all-Dutch party had arranged for an all-Dutch dominie to speak from the pulpit at the very same time.
Well, the time came, and both dominies were on time, and both dominies took possession, or tried to take possession, of the pulpit, and both dominies addressed, or tried to address, the congregation, and there was tremendous confusion.
The all-Dutchman had a louder, deeper voice than the all-Englishmen, but the all-Englishmen could talk a great deal faster than the all-Dutchman. One made the most of his words, the other made the most words; so it was about an even thing. But between the two nobody could hear a word.
And once the all-Englishman gettin’ excited moved his arm and accidentally hit the all-Dutch brother, and then the all-Dutch brother got mad and turnin’ round pulled his all-English brother’s hair. Then an all-English member of the meetin’ and an all-Dutch member of the meetin’ rushed up to help their respective dominies and the chances for a free fight were tremendous.
But in spite of all the terribly bad blood just then there was at bottom too great a reverence for sacred things to prolong the unseemly wrangle, so both dominies stepped down and out, and the congregation dispersed in comparative peace.
And after that people simmered down. They were all good men and good neighbors at heart and didn’t really love to hate each other. So after this last and worst fuss the quarrel between the all-Dutch and all-English parties got smoothed over just as the all-Dutch party quietly got wiped out.
After all there is a good deal of human nature in religion, just as there is and always will be a good deal of religion in human nature.
[Editor’s notes: The dispute that the column alludes to in the first paragraph occurred in early 1884 at the Madison Avenue Congregational Church, popularly known as “Gen. Grant’s Church,” as the former President often attended services there. The Church’s pastor resigned in 1881. In his place, Rev. Dr. John Philip Newman was invited to be acting pastor. Though Newman was a Methodist Episcopal Church member, the Madison Avenue Congregational Church (like all Congregational Churches) ran its own affairs and could recruit pastors from other denominations.
However, the senior Deacon of the Church, Dr. Ranney, did not want to see Newman appointed permanently, and suspected that Newman wanted to move the Church to a different location or perhaps even change it to a Methodist Episcopal Church. Newman did eventually resign, and afterwards retuned to Washington, D.C. A friend of Grant’s, he gave an oration at Grant’s funeral.]
