Do pass and repass near the verdant shore.”
KINDS OF SHELL-FISH
“The luscious Lobster, with the Crabfish raw,
The brinish Oyster, Muscle, Perriwig,
And Tortoise fought by the Indian’s Squaw,
Which to the flats dance many a winter’s jig,
To dive for Cockles, and to dig for Clams,
Whereby her lazy husband’s guts she crams.”
It was recommended to those who came over after Winthrop, to bring with them a hogshead and a half of meal, “to keep him until he may receive the fruit of his own labors, which will be a year and a half after his arrival, if he land in May or June.” Also, “malt, beef, butter, cheese, pease, good wines, vinegar, and strong waters;” and in addition, a variety of clothing, boots, shoes, implements, iron wares, stew-pans, warming-pans, fish-hooks, and every conceivable thing for use or labor, being assured that whatever they did not want, could be disposed of at a profit.
MARKET SUPPLIES
One of the earliest accounts of the market supplies in Boston is that written by a French refugee in 1687,—almost two hundred years ago. He says,—
“An ox costs from twelve to fifteen crowns; a Cow, eight to ten; Horses, from ten to fifty Crowns, and in Plenty. There are even wild ones in the Woods, which are yours if you can catch them. Foals are sometimes caught. Beef costs Two pence the Pound; Mutton, Two pence; Pork, from two to three pence, according to the Season; Flour, Fourteen shillings the one hundred and twelve Pound, all bolted; Fish is very cheap, and Vegetables also; Cabbage, Turnips, Onions, and Carrots abound here. Moreover, there are quantities of Nuts, Chestnuts, and Hazelnuts wild. These nuts are small, but of wonderful flavor. I have been told that there are other Sorts, which we shall see in the Season. I am assured that the Woods are full of Strawberries in the Season. I have seen Quantities of wild Grapevine, and eaten Grapes of very good Flavor, kept by one of my friends. There is no Doubt that the Vine will do well; there is some little planted in the country which has grown. The Rivers are full of Fish, and we have so great a Quantity of Sea and River Fish that no Account is made of them.”
It is pretty certain that these things have been so ever since.
FAMILY BILL OF FARE
A later account than this, however, and one with which some who are now living may be more or less familiar, or have heard of, is given as follows:—
“The ordinary food of the early settlers here, for both breakfast and supper, was bean porridge, with bread and butter. On Sunday morning there was coffee in addition. Brown bread, made of rye and Indian, was the staff of life, white bread being used only when guests were present. Raked pumpkins (in their season) and milk composed a dish said to be luxurious. [This dish is in common use among the country people at the present time.] For dinner, twice every week, Sundays and Thursdays, baked beans and baked Indian pudding, the latter being served first. [This last custom has gone wholly out of practice; but the Sunday dinner prevails to-day over the whole of New England, to a very large extent.] Saturdays, salt fish; one day in every week, salt pork and corned beef, and one day, also, when practicable, roasted meat was the rule.”
It is surprising how continuously some of these customs have been kept up and prevail.
SEARCHING FOR PROVISIONS
It is not to be denied that provisions have been scarce in Boston, at times, since the days of the Puritans, hardly now to be realized. Long before the Revolutionary period, in 1711, during one of the wars between France and England, Admiral Sir Hovender Walker, with a fleet of fifteen men-of-war, and forty transports with upwards of five thousand men, arrived in the harbor on his way to the St. Lawrence River, for the protection of Canada. He wanted to victual his ships, and applied to Capt. Belcher (father of Gov. Jonathan Belcher), a rich and leading man, as being the only person who could undertake the service, and he declined it. Next to Mr. Andrew Faneuil, and he undertook it. Provisions were scarce and the price put up, so that a supply could not be had, and the governor was compelled to issue an “order for searching for provisions.” The men, during the stay of the fleet, were in camp at Noddle’s Island, and it is said that a formidable number of them deserted.
CONCLUSION
We have thus travelled over some of the old avenues, ways, customs, and things, peaceful and warlike, more or less in connection with the early settlement, the mature town, and the gorgeous city, from 1630 to 1880; from the period of scarcity and deprivation to that of prosperity and abundance. The task has been delightful, and whatever may be thought of the ways and doings, and we may almost say the undoings, of the Puritans, the town which they planted and the principles they promulgated, rather than the intolerance they practised, have become permanent and sure. Now, indeed, there is neither intolerance nor scarcity; and however much our predecessors may have suffered we are now able to supply bread and beef to millions of people less favorably circumstanced. Perhaps nothing more distinctly or emphatically marks the character and quality of a people than their “ways and means” of living. It has been said that Americans are disposed to revel in big dinners; and, in fact, undertake to accomplish every thing with a big dinner, or at least celebrate the accomplishment of it in that way. One writer has said, if we welcome a guest it is done with a dinner; if we inaugurate a stock company or start a charity, it is pretty sure to have its relations with the market and the stomach. This may be partly so. A good dinner, social and liberal, is the reconciler, the inspiration, the motive power of good works generally; and what it cannot do, or at least help to do, is pretty sure not to be accomplished. Of course, all this is understood, and almost sure to be practised, so that, when any thing comes up, instead of going to bed to sleep on it, we hurry off to Parker’s or Young’s, or it may be, if the matter is very staid and respectable, to the old Tremont, and eat on it. The custom is in us—in the blood; it is Saxon, and comes naturally enough from the mother country. In England, the great diner-out, Douglas Jerrold, who knows all about it, says, “If an earthquake were to engulf all England to-morrow, Englishmen would manage to meet, and dine somewhere among the rubbish,” as if the occasion needed to be celebrated in that way.
There have been times, now fortunately more than a hundred years ago, when our market could not be made to furnish a big dinner; when there was no market; when the enemy were seizing all the sheep and cattle; when the people were starving on salt provisions, and, in one instance at least, a party of gentlemen were invited to dine off a roasted rat in Boston; and again when a special request was made to the people, in consequence of the necessities of the times, “not to have more than two dishes of meat on their tables.” But not long after this, on the 24th of January, 1793, there was a grand festival in honor of French Liberty and Equality, when an ox of more than a thousand weight was roasted entire, and drawn on a car by fifteen horses, followed by other carriages with hogsheads of punch, loaves of bread, &c., and a large procession of civil, military, municipal officers, and citizens, through the principal streets to State Street, where the table was spread and the dinner was served up in high style. At the present time, it would be an easy matter to roast an ox every day, and big dinners are regarded as of small account on the score of rarity. Some philosopher has said, “Eating dinner is a task which, above all others, requires the conscience pure, the mind easy, a reason undisturbed, the senses critical, and the body and spirit perfectly at rest.” It may be said that the philosophers of the present day do not deem eating a good dinner “a task;” and it is pretty certain the mass of the people do not. It is to be hoped our market will never again be unprepared to furnish a big dinner, on all reasonable occasions, supply a British fleet, or meet the requirements of the people at home, or the necessities of the race abroad.
notes
1
The Second Volume of the Writings of the Author of the London Spy. London: 1706.
2
The New England Tragedies in Prose, by Rowland H. Allen.
3
In the first interview between Governor Carver of Plymouth and the Indian Chief Massasoit, “after salutations, the Governor kissing his hand and the king kissing him, the Governor entertains him with some refreshments, and then they agree on a league of friendship.” March 22, 1621.
4
Walford Street, in Charlestown, we believe, has been cut off by the Eastern Railroad freight tracks and likely to be lost.
5
William Paddy died in 1658, and the alley (now North Centre Street) bore his name for more than a hundred years. When some changes were made in the Old State House, in 1830, to accommodate the Boston Post Office, a stone was dug up which proved to be his grave-stone, though it is a little difficult to tell how it came there. On one side of it was the inscription, “Here lyeth the body of Mr. William Paddy, aged 58 years. Departed this life August—, 1658.” And on the other side,—
“Here sleaps that
Blessed one whose lief
God help vs all to live
That so when time shall be
That we this world must lief
We ever may be happy
With blessed William Paddy.”
It may be concluded, we judge, that Paddy’s Alley was well named.
6
In 1693, an eminent Quaker visited Boston, and afterwards wrote an account of his visit. He says, being a stranger and traveller, he could not but observe the barbarous and unchristian welcome he had into Boston. “Oh, what a pity it was,” said one, “that all your society were not hanged with the other four!”
7
Faust invented printing, 1450.
8
Printing introduced into England, 1571.
9
The “Lion Tavern,” or possibly the “Green Dragon.”
10
Gordon’s History, Vol. I., p. 253.