OLD BOSTON TAVERNS AND TAVERN CLUBS

CAPTAIN JOHN MARSTON, 1715-1786
Owner of the “Golden Ball” and “Bunch of Grapes”

OLD BOSTON BARS

AND

PUB CLUBS

BY
SAMUEL ADAMS DRAKE

NEW ILLUSTRATED EDITION

WITH AN ACCOUNT OF
"Cole's Inn," "The Bakers' Arms," and "Golden Ball"

BY
WALTER K. WATKINS

Here’s a list of taverns, including the names of their various owners, from Miss Thwing’s work on “The Inhabitants and Estates of the Town of Boston, 1630-1800,” archived by the Massachusetts Historical Society.

W. A. BUTTERFIELD
59 BROMFIELD STREET, BOSTON
1917

Copyright, 1917, by W. A. BUTTERFIELD.

The inns of old Boston have been so significant in its history that an illustrated edition of Drake seems fitting even now. “Cole’s Inn” has been firmly established, and the “Hancock Tavern” issue has also been resolved.

I want to thank the Bostonian Society for allowing me to reprint Mr. Watkin’s account of the “Bakers’ Arms” and the “Golden Ball,” and for the valuable help from Messrs. C. F. Read, E. W. McGlenen, and W. A. Watkins; Henderson and Ross for the illustration of the “Crown Coffee House,” and the Walton Advertising Co. for the “Royal Exchange Tavern.”

Other works referred to include Snow’s History of Boston, Memorial History of Boston, Stark’s Antique Views, Porter’s Rambles in Old Boston, and Miss Thwing’s extremely valuable work in the Massachusetts Historical Society.

THE PUBLISHER.

[Pg 9]

UPON THE TAVERN AS AN INSTITUTION.

The famous remark by Louis XIV, “There are no longer any Pyrenees,” might be open to debate, but there definitely aren't any taverns in New England anymore. It's true that the laws in the Commonwealth still refer to places like the Brunswick and Vendome as taverns and their owners as innkeepers; however, we must stand by our point, regardless of the legal terminology.

No one needs to waste words on the current decline that the word "tavern" brings to refined ears. These days, it’s mostly linked to the seedy parts of the city and that specific aspect of urban life, so it's safe to say that as a significant part of society and culture, the tavern has seen its better days. The situation is easy to explain. The simple fact is that as the world has progressed, it has left this once-respected institution stuck in the eighteenth century; yet it's also true that before that time, you could hardly write the history of any civilized society without mentioning it extensively. With the old signboards disappearing, our streets have undoubtedly lost a visually striking element; at least one path to art has been closed off, while a few very old men lament the loss of something they cherished due to many fond memories.

As a way to balance the acknowledgment that the tavern has served its purpose, we should fairly determine its true character and status as it existed in the past. This will help us better understand how it was viewed from both a moral and practical perspective and allow us to trace its journey through various phases of prosperity or misfortune, just like we would with a person's life.

It fits our purpose perfectly, and we're pleased to see such a respected scholar and theologian as Dr. Dwight particularly clear on this topic. He tells us that, during his time, “The best traditional New England inns were better than any of the modern ones. There was less hustle, less show, and less pretense of doing a lot to please you than at the well-known modern inns; but much more was actually accomplished, and there was far more comfort and enjoyment. In short, you found in these inns the pleasures of a great private home. If you got sick, you were cared for and supported like family. To sum it up, your bills were always fair, based on what you should actually pay, rather than on a plan to squeeze out the highest amount possible.”

Now this account of what the public inn was like over eighty years ago comes with authority from someone[Pg 11] who visited every corner of New England, was a sharp and skilled observer, and always faithfully recorded what he experienced. Dr. Dwight often remarked that during his travels, he frequently “found his warmest welcome at an inn.”

To understand the history of the rise and fall of the tavern in our society, we need to go back to the earliest settlements, to the very beginning. In our country, the Pilgrim Fathers represent the highest standards of both public and private morals. Even the harshest critics would agree with that. Intemperance, extravagant living, and immorality found no shelter on Plymouth Rock, no matter how it presented itself. Because they were a virtuous and sober people, they were deeply concerned for their own youth, fearing that the example set by the Dutch might corrupt the foundation of their community. In fact, Bradford clearly states that this was one of the main reasons for their relocation to New England.

The establishment of taverns among the Pilgrims quickly followed their settlement. Not only were they seen as a necessary addition, but as a tradition from the old country, nobody seemed to consider them bad or even a necessary evil. Travelers and visitors needed accommodations, even in the wilderness. As new villages emerged, taverns were licensed just as quickly. More than a dozen were licensed in one session of the General[Pg 12] Court. The typical licensing statement was that So-and-So is authorized to serve wine and beer to the public. The regulations were strict, but that was in line with the values of a moral, patriarchal community; however, there were no attempts to disguise the true nature of taverns like we see in modern cities to navigate around strict laws. The law maintained its authority. An innkeeper was not viewed as someone engaged in a disgraceful or immoral profession—a sort of outcast—but, while still subject to the law, they were treated with its protection. For example, they could be fined for selling an excessive amount of alcohol to one person, and they could also be fined for refusing to sell the permitted amount of alcohol to be consumed on the premises. Although there’s no record of prosecutions under this unique law, it remained in effect for some time as the most reasonable approach to the alcohol issue, as it was understood at the time.

When the law also banned a citizen from hosting a stranger in their own home unless they provided a guarantee for the guest's good behavior, the tavern served as a sort of buffer between the community and the outside world, not unlike a moral quarantine. The town constable could keep a closer watch on all suspicious characters when they were under one roof. It was his job to know[Pg 13] everyone, so any hint of mystery about a person would definitely mark the stranger’s status as questionable. “Mind your own business” is a saying that hasn't fully caught on in New England, especially outside our cities, and it's not likely to become suddenly popular in our rural areas, where, in those good old days we're talking about, a public official was always both a public interrogator and a news messenger from house to house.

On their part, the Puritan Fathers seemed to have closely monitored the tavern from the very start. In 1634, when wages and prices were fixed, sixpence was the standard cost for a meal, and a penny for a quart of beer at an inn. The landlord faced a ten-shilling fine if they charged more. Josselyn, who visited New England early on, notes that “At the taverns in Boston, I’ve had a quart of cider, spiced and sweetened with sugar, for a groat.” So, the fact that the law once specifically dictated how much to pay for a morning drink can be considered one of the curiosities of colonial legislation.

No later than the year 1647, the number of people applying for licenses to run taverns had increased so much that our General Court passed the following act for its own relief: “It is ordered by the authority of this court, that from now on, anyone who is going to operate a place for public entertainment and sell wine, beer, etc., must be licensed at the county courts of the shire where[Pg 14] they live, or the Court of Assistants, so that this court isn’t hindered in dealing with more important matters.”

A notable thing about this bill is that when it went for approval, the word “deputies” was removed and “house” was replaced by the speaker instead, indicating that the newly formed popular assembly had started to establish itself as the only genuine representative chamber, and intended to let the more aristocratic branch know that the sovereign people had finally made their voice heard.

By the time Philip’s war started in 1675, there were so many taverns that Cotton Mather claimed that every other house in Boston was one. In fact, the disaster of the war itself was blamed on the high number of drinking establishments in the colony. This was one of the supposed sins, according to Mather, that had brought the disfavor of Providence upon the colony. A century later, Governor Pownall echoed Mather’s words. So, it’s clear that the rise of taverns, both good and bad, matched the growth of the country.

It’s clear that, during this time, many old laws about drinking in society were openly ignored. For example, toasting to healths, even though it was against the law, was still done during Cotton Mather’s time by those gathering for meals. He defended it as a typical gesture of politeness, not as a call to Heaven like it used to be in the chivalric days. Drinking at funerals, weddings, church-raisings, and even ordinations was widely accepted by custom. Anyone who refused to provide alcohol on such occasions would have faced unflattering comments about their intentions.

It’s pretty interesting to see that the colony's leaders viewed tobacco as much more sinful, harmful, and degrading than drinking alcohol. In fact, in most of the New England settlements, not just the use but also the growing of tobacco was strictly prohibited. Those who wanted to enjoy the banned plant could only do so in the most private settings. The law states, “No one shall use tobacco in any tavern or common dining place, except in a private room there, as long as the owner of the house or any guests do not take offense; if they do, then that person must stop and will be fined two shillings sixpence for each offense.”

It’s recorded that two innocent Dutchmen, who visited Harvard College—back when that respected institution was much younger than it is today—were almost choked by the tobacco smoke as soon as they entered, prompting one to say to the other, “This is definitely a tavern.”

It’s also interesting to point out that, despite the steady increase in smoking among all social classes, public opinion kept supporting laws aimed at its restriction, even though, from today’s perspective, these laws seem quite harsh. This situation persisted until recently enough that there are still people alive who have been asked to plead “guilty or not guilty” in a police court for smoking in the streets of Boston. It’s believed that a growing sense of absurdity ultimately led to the end of arrests for this reason; however, for a while longer, officers would invite caught smokers to honor the memory of an outdated law by tossing their cigars into the gutter.

Looking at practical matters, we see that the tavern has a significant connection to its local area. First of all, since it was established around the same time as the villages, the tavern quickly became the main landmark for its neighborhood. For example, in Boston alone, names like Seven Star Lane, Orange Tree Lane, Red Lion Lane, Black Horse Lane, Sun Court, Cross Street, and Bull Lane—among others that now sound really strange to today's ears—were all taken from taverns. We wouldn’t be wrong in saying that a Bostonian in London would find the great city oddly worse if he discovered that well-known names like Charing Cross, Bishopsgate, or Temple Bar were swapped out for those of some rich Smith, Brown, or Robinson; yet, he observes with hardly a hint of disapproval as the same sort of erasure happens back home, demonstrating how differently things can appear from various perspectives.

[Pg 17]To further define the layout of taverns, it’s worth noting that in the old almanacs, distances were always calculated between inns, rather than from town to town like we do today.

Of course, the geographical differences we've mentioned started when there were few public buildings, but the idea is almost instinctive. Even now, it's common for everyone to first guide an asking stranger to some well-known landmark. Because of this, tavern signs quickly became recognized and noted by all travelers.

Lamb's Sign.

Then again, tavern names are usually linked to the old country. The colonist's love for their homeland and its memories made them want to enjoy their mug of ale under the same sign they frequented back in England. It was a constant reminder for them. Innkeepers understood how to tap into this sentiment.[Pg 18] That's why you have places like the Red Lion and the Lamb, St. George and the Green Dragon, the Black, White, and Red Horse, the Sun, Seven Stars, and Globe—each one a reminder of Old London. In their own way, they represent the same kind of connection that names like Boston, Portsmouth, Falmouth, and other English-origin names continue to hold.

[Pg 19]

THE EARLIER ORDERS.

As early as 1638, there were at least two taverns, or ordinaries as they were called, in Boston. It’s clear these were not just regular taverns when you consider the methods they used to maintain sobriety and order. For instance, Josselyn mentions that when a stranger walked into one for a drink, he would soon find a constable right next to him, there to ensure that the guest ordered only as much liquor as seemed appropriate. If he ordered more, the beadle would immediately cancel the order, deciding himself how much could be consumed, and there was no way to argue with that decision.

The earliest known licensed inn dates back to 1634, run by Samuel Cole, a candy maker. There’s a certain interest in the location of this first public entertainment venue in the New England capital. However, early authorities seem to have been mistaken about its location. Misled by the sparse[Pg 20] records in the Book of Possessions, antiquarians of the past always placed Cole’s Inn in what is now Merchants’ Row. Since the publication of Thomas Lechford’s Notebook, a deed from 1638 has surfaced, showing that Cole sold part of his home, including a brewery. This property is located just north of the well-known Old Corner Bookstore on Washington Street. Thus, it seems clear that Cole’s Inn was situated on what was already the town's main street, almost directly across from Governor Winthrop’s house, adding significance to Lord Leigh’s choice to decline Winthrop’s offered hospitality while staying under Cole’s roof.

In his New England Tragedies, Mr. Longfellow introduces Cole, who says,—

“But the ‘Three Mariners’ is a well-organized,
“a very neat, quiet, and respectable place.”

Cole must have had a poet's license to name his house this way, since it's only referred to as Cole’s Inn.

Another of these respected landlords was William Hudson, who was granted permission to run an inn in 1640. He transitioned easily from being a baker to the more fitting role of innkeeper. Hudson was one of the first settlers in Boston and was actively involved in town affairs for many years. His name appears on the[Pg 21] list of those who were admitted as freemen of the Colony in May 1631. Since his son William also pursued the same profession, it's important to distinguish between Senior and Junior when referring to them.

Hudson’s house is believed to have been located where the New England Bank stands now, which, if that's true, would make it the most famous tavern in all of New England, or even in the entire colonies, since that same spot later became known as the Bunch of Grapes. We will frequently refer to it by that name. In Hudson’s time, the area looked very different from what we see today. All the earlier geographical features have disappeared. Back then, the tide came almost right up to the tavern door, making the place a landmark of the old shoreline as the first settlers discovered it. Even such a simple statement highlights how challenging it is to accurately pinpoint, with any level of precision, the locations of residences or sites along the waterfront, going back to the original inhabitants of the land.

Next in chronological order is the establishment known as the King’s Arms. This famous inn was located at the entrance of the dock, in what is now Dock Square. Hugh Gunnison, a tavern owner, operated a “cook’s shop” from his home there well before 1642, as he was allowed to sell beer at that time. The following year, he respectfully requested permission from the court “to serve the wine consumed in his house,” instead of having his customers buy it elsewhere and then come into his place already intoxicated—a[Pg 22] situation he felt was both unfair and unprofitable. He made this request so that “God would not be dishonored nor his people hurt.”

We know that Gunnison was given special treatment by the General Court, as we see that this body voted to cover the expenses for being hosted at his home “from the custom of wines or the wampum of the Narragansetts.”

Gunnison’s house now went by the not always popular name of the King’s Arms, which it seems to have kept until the political upheaval in the Old Country prompted the Puritan leaders to order the removal of the King's arms and the installation of the State’s in their place; because, until the restoration of the Stuarts, the tavern remained, we believe, known as the State’s Arms. It then proudly took back its old insignia once more. Such small events illustrate how taverns often reflect the changing tides of public opinion.

As Gunnison’s menu hasn’t survived, we’re unsure how the colonial leaders enjoyed their meals at his welcoming table; however, as long as the ‘treat’ was paid for by the public, we can safely assume the dinners were as good as the pantry allowed, and that the deserving legislators and lawgivers made the most of what was in the host's cellar.

When Hugh Gunnison sold the King’s Arms to Henry Shrimpton and others in 1651 for £600, every room in his house had a unique name or title. For example, one room was called[Pg 23] the “Exchange.” We sometimes wonder if it was named that because merchants used it as a regular meeting spot. This room had “one half-headed bedstead with blue pillars.” There was also a “Court Chamber,” which was likely the one used by the General Court when dining at Gunnison’s. Other rooms were named the “London” and “Star.” The hall had three small rooms or stalls with a bar nearby. This area was open to the public, but the upstairs rooms were reserved for the “quality” or those who paid for the privilege of privacy. Everyone remembers how, in “She Stoops to Conquer,” Miss Hardcastle exclaims: “Attend the Lion, there!—Pipes and tobacco for the Angel!—The Lamb has been outrageous this half hour!”

The Castle Tavern was another public spot run by William Hudson, Jr., located at what is now the upper corner of Elm Street and Dock Square. It’s very hard to determine exactly when this famous tavern was established, but since we have a colonial order from 1656 that mentions it housing soldiers, we can assume it was a public inn back then. At this time, Hudson is referred to as a lieutenant. If Whitman’s records of the Artillery Company are accurate, the younger Hudson had served in the wars. Along with “some of our best military men,” he had traveled across the ocean to serve in the Parliamentary forces, where he held the rank of ensign, returning to New England after two years to discover his wife was publicly accused of being unfaithful.

The presence of these old inns at the end of the town dock clearly marks this area as the business center, and it remained central to Boston's commerce until the construction of wharves and piers allowed ships to dock directly for unloading. Before that, goods were transferred using smaller boats and lighters. In the early days, when everything had to be transported by water to and from nearby settlements, this spot was naturally the busiest in Boston. Eventually, Dock Square became, as its name suggests, a kind of hub for the various streets leading down to the dock below it.

Here, for a while, was the hub of all the movement to and from the shipping, and we can also say, of all the trade in the young settlement. Naturally, the area was perfect for showcasing all kinds of merchandise as it was unloaded, which quickly resulted in setting up a corn market on one side of the dock and a fish market on the other.

The Royal Exchange was located where the Merchants’ Bank used to be, on State Street. This fancy name indicates that the town had outgrown its old traditions and was moving towards a more urban lifestyle. Over time, a town hall was built in the marketplace. The ground floor was[Pg 25] intentionally left open for citizens to stroll, chat about the news, or negotiate deals. In common terms, people said they met “on ’change,” and from then on, this meeting spot became known as the Exchange, a name that the nearby tavern and alley soon adopted as their own.

THE ROYAL EXCHANGE TAVERN (Merchants Bank site, State Street)
The tall white building, mail coach just leaving

A look at the area in question shows that the decision was made with a smart outlook for the future. For instance, the house faced the town marketplace, where fairs and markets for selling local products were held on specific days. On one side, the tavern was next to the busy lane that led to the town dock. People who wanted to buy or sell would come here regularly for daily trading. It also became a spot for community gatherings—on ceremonial occasions like announcing proclamations, organizing troops, or punishing offenders—all of which justifies its reputation as the heart of the small community.

Indeed, at this place, the rhythm of daily life throbbed with growing energy. Country folks arrived with their donkeys and baskets. In the fresh air, they set up their little stalls to attract the townspeople with displays of fresh butter, cheese, eggs, fruits, and vegetables. The locals came with baskets on their arms, trading news or opinions while haggling for their dinner, and thus picked up the pulse of public sentiment beyond their own homes.

[Pg 26]To hang around a bit longer at the sign of the Royal Exchange, which, by all accounts, always attracted the best clientele in town, we discover that, back in Luke Vardy’s days, it was a popular hangout for the Masonic fraternity, with Vardy being a member of the order. According to a humorous poem from that time,—

“It was he who often chased away their sadness,
"And filled the brothers' hearts with joy."

After the town hall burned down nearby in the winter of 1747, forcing the General Court outside, they wrapped up their sessions at Vardy's; and we don't see any record of legislation regarding Luke's taproom during that time.

Vardy’s was the hangout for the young people of the town, who spent their evenings drinking, playing cards, or sharing stories about their love lives. On a July evening in 1728, two young men from prominent families got into a fight over cards or alcohol. A challenge was issued. Back then, swords were the weapon of choice for gentlemen. They went to a quiet spot on the Common, got ready for the duel, and fought under the moonlight. After a few exchanges, one of the fighters, named Woodbridge, suffered a fatal wound; the other was quickly taken away by his friends to a ship that immediately set sail. Since this was the first duel ever fought in the town, it created quite a commotion.

JOSEPH GREEN
Famous Boston merchant and funny guy, passed away in England, 1780

We can't leave the neighborhood without at least making mention of the Massacre of March 5, 1770, which happened right in front of the tavern. Back then, it was a three-story brick house, thought to be a replacement for the original building that was destroyed in the huge fire of 1711. On the opposite corner of the lane stood the Royal Custom House, where a sentry was patrolling alone on that chilly night, unaware of the role he would play in the upcoming tragedy. The violent confrontation that began with the mob attacking this sentinel marked the start of a conflict that would cost many colonists their lives. At that time, the tavern welcomed newly arrived British army and navy officers, as well as locals and supporters of the Tory party, so its guests must have felt an eerie sense of anticipation during each moment of that night of chaos. Because of this, the tavern and its sign appear in Revere’s famous illustration of the massacre.

One more old inn in this area deserves a mention. Although it doesn't date back as far or extend as late as some of the other places we've talked about, it certainly deserves to be acknowledged.

The Anchor, also known as the “Blew Anchor,” was located where the Globe newspaper building now stands. In earlier times, it shared the support of the magistrates with the State’s Arms, who had a tradition—maybe still somewhat alive—of heading over to the tavern after[Pg 28] finishing their official business. This is why we see that the commissioners of the United Colonies, as well as the clergy, were typically hosted here at the Anchor when they came to the colonial capital for a synod.

This fact assumes a house with what we would now consider the latest upgrades, or at least having some advantages over its older competitors in the quality of its food and drinks. When Robert Turner ran it, his rooms were named like the old London inns: the Cross Keys, Green Dragon, Anchor and Castle Chamber, Rose and Sun, Low Room, creating nostalgic associations that attracted customers.

It was in 1686 that John Dunton, a London bookseller whom Pope mocked in the “Dunciad,” came to Boston to do some business in the bookselling industry. The area around the town hall was then filled with bookshops, all doing well selling printed sermons, almanacs, and essays of a kind that are now mostly unknown except to a few eager collectors. This was a critical time in New England, as it was feeling the tension of the upcoming revolt that would lead to King James's exile; yet, reading Dunton’s account of people and events as he saw them, you would think he had just landed in a peaceful paradise, rather than being in a place that was on the brink of revolution.

But it’s to him that we owe a description of the typical landlord—one who we[Pg 29] instantly feel we would have liked to know and, having known, would remember fondly. With a flourish of his quill, Dunton introduces us to George Monk, the landlord of the Anchor, who somehow reminds us of Chaucer’s Harry Bailly and Ben Jonson’s Goodstock. We strongly suspect from what comes next that Dunton had enjoyed the “Anchor” Madeira not just once, but several times.

JOHN DUNTON, Bookseller, 1659-1733

George Monk, the host of the Anchor, Dunton tells us, was “such a remarkable person that, if I hadn’t known him, it would be hard for any New Englander to believe I had been in Boston; because there wasn’t a single house in the entire town more famous, or where someone could find better hospitality. Plus, he was a cheerful and lively man, whose conversations were sought after by all his guests as the very essence and energy of the gathering.”

In this casual overview, we see the traditional bar owner, now sadly gone. A gossip, a news spreader, a banker, a pawnbroker, a facilitator of people or goods, the close relationship that used to exist between the landlord and the patrons in the old days created an even tighter bond among the bar owners themselves, forming a communication network that stretched across all the major routes from Maine to Georgia.

Situated just “around the corner” from the council chamber, the Anchor became, as we've seen, the favorite hangout for government members, taking on a somewhat official vibe and[Pg 30] status. We have good reason to believe that, under the relaxing influence of the punch bowl, those old-fashioned men of strong character could occasionally crack a grim joke or tell a story or maybe even sing a love song with serious enthusiasm. In any case, we find Chief Justice Sewall noting in his “Diary” the well-known line, “The deputies treated and I treated.” And, to be honest, we would much prefer to think of the founding fathers as having some human weaknesses rather than as the statues that now replace their living forms and likenesses in our streets.

But every now and then, we can picture the sounds of lively celebrations making the windows of some of these old inns rattle once more. We learn that the Greyhound was a respectable pub, located in Roxbury, and it dates back quite a bit; for the venerable and saintly Eliot lived on one side and his devout colleague, Samuel Danforth, on the other. Yet despite being surrounded by such prominent figures of the church, the godly Danforth bitterly complains about the annoyances that patrons of the tavern sometimes caused him, and he openly tells us that when he saw any of the townspeople hanging around from his study windows, he would go down and "scold them away."

It’s recounted in the memoirs of the famous Indian fighter, Captain Benjamin Church, that he and Captain Converse once found themselves near a tavern in the South End of Boston. As old friends[Pg 31], they wanted to go in and share a drink together; however, when they checked their pockets, Church could only find sixpence and Converse didn’t have a penny to his name, so they had to skip this toast to their friendship and left with parched throats. Heading over to Roxbury, Church fortunately ran into an old neighbor who kindly lent him enough money to get home. He shares this story to illustrate the tough situation the stinginess of the Massachusetts leaders had put him, their great captain, in, someone to whom the colony owed so much.

The Red Lion on North Street was one of the oldest pubs, if not the oldest, in the North End of the town. It was located close to the waterfront, with the nearby wharf and the lane leading to it both owned by the pub and sharing its name. The old Red Lion Lane is now Richmond Street, and the wharf has been filled in, making it quite difficult to recognize the old locations. Nicholas Upshall, the brave Quaker, ran the Red Lion as early as 1654. After his death, the land where the tavern and brewery stood was passed down to his children. When persecution against his group intensified, Upshall was thrown into Boston jail for openly criticizing the authorities and their harsh treatment of his people. He was initially sentenced to life in prison. A long and painful imprisonment eventually took a toll on Upshall’s health, if it didn’t ultimately cause his death.

[Pg 32]The Ship Tavern was located at the end of Clark’s Wharf, or on the southwest corner of North and Clark streets, based on today’s layout. It was an old brick building, dating back at least to 1650. John Vyal managed it in 1663. When Clark’s Wharf was constructed, it became the main wharf in town. Large ships docked there, making the tavern a convenient spot for ship captains or their passengers, and closely tying it to the area itself. King Charles’s commissioners stayed at Vyal’s tavern when they set out to take down the pride of the colony’s rulers. One of them, Sir Robert Carr, attacked a constable who tried to arrest him in this tavern. Later, he refused to show up in court to answer for the assault, arrogantly claiming that His Majesty’s commission was above any local order. This was his way of getting back at Governor Leverett, who had insulted the commissioners by keeping his hat on while their authority was announced to the council. However, Leverett was a man experienced under Cromwell, and he had no fondness for the royalists, nor did they have for him. The commissioners blew trumpets and made official announcements, but the colony continued on its path, ignoring the royal order, as well as the brewing turmoil around it, completely unarmed and unprepared for the major conflict ahead.

[Pg 33]

IN REVOLUTIONARY TIMES.

Major streets like King Street, just before the Revolution, were crowded with riders, donkeys, oxen, and long trucks, along with a few one-horse carriages and coaches like those depicted in Hogarth’s realistic paintings of London life. You could also find chimney sweeps, woodcutters, market sellers, soldiers, and sailors, who are now just as outdated as the vehicles themselves. With no sidewalks, the narrow pathways were sometimes protected by posts and occasionally by an old cannon set up at the corners, so travelers would have to dismount from their horses or get out of their carriages right at the entrance.

Next in age and popularity to the taverns already mentioned is the Bunch of Grapes on King, now known as State Street. The simple three-story stone building located at the upper corner of Kilby Street stands where the once-famous tavern used to be. Three shiny clusters of grapes hung enticingly over the door, catching the eye of passersby. Besides its[Pg 34] tempting offerings, a nice scent of history surrounds this symbol, cherished by all fans of Bacchus for ages. In Measure for Measure, the clown says, “It was in the Bunch of Grapes, where indeed you have a pleasure to sit, right?” And Froth responds, “I do, because it's an open room and great for winter.”

THE CLUSTER OF GRAPES

This house dates back to 1712, when Francis Holmes owned it, and perhaps even earlier, though we don't see it under this name before Holmes’s time. From then until after the Revolution, it seems to have always served as a public inn, and one old traveler fondly referred to it as the best place for punch in all of Boston.

When the line was drawn between conditional loyalty and unconditional loyalty, the Bunch of Grapes became the hangout for the High Whigs, who turned it into a kind of political headquarters where only patriotism was accepted, earning it the nickname Whig tavern.[Pg 35] With military presence and forceful rule ramping up public sentiment, the divide between Whig and Tory homes was marked at the entrance. Marston maintained that boundary. If anyone in scarlet uniforms or with Tory features showed up, they were met with a cold reception; so those on the Tory side formed their own groups at different taverns, where the conversations and toasts suited their taste, and they could freely criticize the Yankee rebels over their drinks.

But aside from political factors, one or two events have given the Bunch of Grapes a special status above all its peers, and so they shouldn't be overlooked when mentioning the place.

On Monday, July 30, 1733, the first grand lodge of Masons in America was set up here by Henry Price, a tailor from Boston, who had been given permission by Lord Montague, the Grand Master of England, to do so.

Again, when the royal troops evacuated Boston, this house became the hub for public demonstrations. First, General Washington was warmly welcomed there. A few months later, after the Declaration was read from the balcony of the Town Hall, the crowd, having made their appeal to the King of kings, went on to tear down the royal arms from the public buildings and piled them up in front of the tavern, turning them into a bonfire, little realizing, [Pg 36] we think, that one day this act would be seen as vandalism.

General Stark’s timely victory at Bennington was celebrated with even more enthusiasm in Boston because the people had been trembling with fear ever since the fall of Ticonderoga spread panic throughout New England. The situation is accurately described in the following letter, written by a prominent figure, illustrating how things were done in times that not only tested men’s resolve but also seemed to have put their stomachs to quite a tough challenge. The writer says:—

"Because of this news, we celebrated in style. At sunset, around one hundred of the town's prominent gentlemen, along with all the visitors in Boston, gathered at the Bunch of Grapes, where fine drinks and a side table were set up. In the street, there were two brass cannons with a unit from Colonel Craft’s regiment. On the Town House balcony, all the fifes and drums of my regiment were positioned. The event kicked off with a blast of thirteen cannon shots, and for each toast, three rounds were fired along with a display of rockets. Around nine o’clock, two barrels of grog were brought out into the street for the crowd that had gathered there. Everything was handled with the utmost decorum, and by ten o’clock, everyone was back at home."

Shortly after this, General Stark himself arrived in town and was warmly welcomed here, at that time[Pg 37] presenting the trophies that now decorate the Senate Chamber. When Lafayette returned from France in 1780, he was also received at this house with full honors because he brought the news that France had finally thrown her powerful sword into the shaky balance of our Revolutionary struggle.

But the significant event connected to the Bunch of Grapes isn't the hosting of a long line of notable guests; it's the formation, by several continental officers, of the Ohio Company, which marked the real beginning of settling that vast State in Marietta. The driving force behind this initial organized effort from New England towards the Great West was General Rufus Putnam, a cousin of the more famous Revolutionary officer.

Taking this house as an example of the best the town could offer at the beginning of the century, we would likely find around twenty people gathered for dinner, enjoying as much casual conversation as they wanted. The only formalities observed were those required by good manners. Two o’clock was when everyone in town had dinner. The guests were called together by the ringing of a bell in the street. They were served seasonal salmon, veal, beef, mutton, poultry, ham, vegetables, and pudding, with each person having their pint of Madeira in front of them. The carving was done at the table in the traditional English style, with each guest serving themselves what they preferred most. The standard charge was five shillings per day, which was[Pg 38] certainly not excessive. Typically, the table was empty within half an hour after the meal was cleared.

The British Coffee-House was one of the first inns to adopt the newly introduced name. It was located at the granite building numbered 66 State Street and, as its name suggests, was firmly the hub for hardcore loyalists, just as the Bunch of Grapes, across the street, was for the staunch Whigs. A notable event there was the 1750 performance, likely by amateurs, of Otway’s “Orphan,” which sparked such public outrage that it led to the creation of a law banning the performance of stage plays with strict penalties.

Perhaps an even more significant event was the establishment in this house of the first organization in Boston to adopt the distinctive name of a Club. The Merchants’ Club, as it was called, met here as early as 1751. Its membership wasn’t limited to merchants, as you might assume from its name, although they were likely in the majority. It also included crown officials, lawyers, military and naval officers stationed here, and men of high social standing from various backgrounds. No one else was eligible for membership.

Up until a certain point, this club definitely represented the best culture, the sharpest wit, and the most enjoyable companionship that could be found in all the colonies. However, when political tensions rose, the old unity came to an end, and a split[Pg 39] became unavoidable, with the Whigs moving over to the Bunch of Grapes, and from then on adopting the name of the Whig Club.[1]

Under the date of 1771, John Adams writes in his Diary: “Spent the evening at Cordis’s, in the front room facing the Long Wharf, where the Merchants’ Club has met for twenty years. It seems there’s a split in that group, a tear in that fabric.” Cordis was the landlord at the time.[2]

Social and business meetings of the bar also took place at the Coffee-House, where Josiah Quincy, Jr. was eventually admitted. Over time, the word “American” replaced “British” on the Coffee-House sign, and for a while, it thrived under its new name, the American Coffee-House.

But before the clash of opinions led to the secession mentioned earlier[Pg 40], the best room in this house hosted almost nightly gatherings of a group of patriotic men who were actively bringing together all the elements of opposition into a single force. They could aptly be called the Old Guard of the Revolution. The main figures were Otis, Cushing, John Adams, Pitts, Dr. Warren, and Molyneux. It's likely that no minutes of their meetings were kept, for the very good reason that they skimmed the line of, if they didn't outright cross, treason.

His skills, status at the bar, and deep understanding of the issues that were stirring up the public made Otis the leader in these discussions, where the strategies for countering the aggressive actions being taken by the government were the main focus. His sharp and logical mind, expertise in public law, strong determination, and the clever, cutting satire he wielded earned Otis the reputation of being the most disliked man on the Whig side of politics, as he was the one most feared. Whether in the House, the courtroom, the taverns, or anywhere else, Otis was at the forefront of the resistance. In military terms, his strategy was offensive-defensive. He didn’t hold back against ignorance from those in power. Once, when Governor Bernard mockingly interrupted Otis to ask who the authority was that he was quoting, the patriot coolly responded, “He is a very eminent jurist, and none the less so for being unknown to your Excellency.”

[Pg 41]It was in the Coffee-House that Otis, trying to provoke a Tory, was attacked and brutally beaten by a man named Robinson and his friends, leading to his mental breakdown and eventual exit from public life. John Adams states he was “cowardly assaulted by a well-dressed gang, with a customs commissioner leading them.” What they could never achieve through proper debate, the Tories managed to do through violence, as Otis was permanently unable to participate in the struggle he had always anticipated and, in fact, had done more than anyone else in the colonies to bring about.

Connected to this situation is a story that we believe deserves to be mentioned. It was told by John Adams, who was an interested listener. William Molyneux had a petition before the legislature that didn't go the way he wanted, and for several evenings, he bored everyone with his complaints about his efforts, losses, sacrifices, etc., always finishing with, “It’s unacceptable for someone like me, who has acted as I have, to be treated like this,” along with much more to the same effect. Otis hadn’t said anything, but the whole group was fed up and impatient when he stood up and said, “Come on, Will, let’s change the subject and have some fun. I also have a list of complaints; do you want to hear it?” The group expected some entertainment, so they all shouted, “Yes! Yes! Let’s hear your list.”

[Pg 42]“Well, first of all, I stepped down from my position as advocate-general, which I held from the crown. Do you know how much that paid me?”

“A lot, for sure,” said Molyneux.

“Should we say two hundred pounds a year?”

“Aye, I believe so,” said Molyneux.

“Well, let it be two hundred. That, for ten years, is two thousand. Next, I’ve had to give up most of my practice at the bar. Can you value that at two hundred pounds more?”

“Oh, I believe it a lot more than that!” was the answer.

“Well, let's make it two hundred. Over ten years, that comes to two thousand. So, you agree that I've lost four thousand pounds sterling?”

“Yeah, and even more,” said Molyneux. Otis continued: “Next, I’ve lost a hundred friends, including some of the most respected, wealthy, and powerful people in the province. How much do you think they’re worth?”

“Damn them!” said Molyneux, “You're better off without them than with them.”

A loud laugh from the group responded to this comment.

“Fine with me,” said Otis. “Next, I’ve made a thousand enemies, including the provincial and national government. What do you think about that?”

"That might be how things go," Molyneux said thoughtfully.

[Pg 43]“Next, you know I enjoy pleasure, but I haven’t indulged in it for ten years. What does that even mean?”

“No big deal: you’ve turned politics into your hobby.”

A good laugh.

“In addition, I have destroyed the best health that nature ever gave to anyone.”

"That's really sad; there's nothing more to say about that," Molyneux replied.

“Once more,” continued Otis, bowing his head before Molyneux, “take a look at this head!” (there was a deep, partially closed scar, wide enough for a person to put their finger in)—“and, what’s worse, my friends think I have a terrible crack in my skull.”

This made everyone in the company look serious and successfully made Molyneux, who was actually a good friend, feel genuinely ashamed of his petty complaints.

Another well-known old inn was the Cromwell’s Head, located in School Street. It was a two-story wooden building with a timeworn look, prominently displaying a grim image of the Lord Protector over the walkway. This reportedly bothered the die-hard royalists, who, to avoid passing under it, would routinely walk on the opposite side of the street. In fact, some of the fiery Tories wanted to treat Cromwell’s Head the same way that man of strength had dealt with their martyr king. So, when the town was placed under martial[Pg 44] law, the innkeeper Brackett, whose family had run the place for over fifty years, had to take down his sign and hide it until the "British hirelings" had made their shameful exit from the town.

After Braddock’s devastating defeat in the West, a young Virginian colonel named George Washington was sent by Governor Dinwiddie to meet with Governor Shirley, who was the leading war governor of his time, much like Andrew is in ours, except that Shirley had the overall control of military operations from the Ohio River to the St. Lawrence largely in his hands. Colonel Washington settled in at Brackett’s, probably not realizing that twenty years later he would enter Boston leading a victorious republican army, after having stationed his troops in Governor Shirley’s impressive mansion.

Major-General the Marquis Chastellux, part of Rochambeau’s auxiliary army, also stayed at the Cromwell’s Head when he was in Boston in 1782. While there, he met the famous Paul Jones, whose extreme vanity caused him to read to the group in the coffee room some verses, supposedly written in his honor by Lady Craven.

From the gentry's tavern, we move on to the tavern of the workers, and to the class that Abraham Lincoln forever called the common people.

Among such houses, the Salutation, located at the intersection of Salutation and North Street, deserves a notable mention. Its proximity to the shipyards attracted the business of the tough North End shipwrights, caulkers, gravers, sparmakers, and others—a large group that, while fiercely patriotic, also had a strong sense of community and independence in their opinions and outlooks. As a result, they needed to be approached carefully, considering their class biases, especially since they always voted as a collective. Smart politicians like Samuel Adams recognized this. Governor Phips rose to power because of it. Therefore, collectively, these tradespeople were quite a force, whether at the polls or in implementing their leaders' strategies. Their meetings are often credited with the origin of the word caucus, which likely became popular as a shorthand for caulkers' meetings.

The Salutation became the meeting point between[Pg 46] prominent Whig politicians and shipbuilders. Over sixty key mechanics showed up for the first meeting in 1772, where Dr. Warren created a set of rules. However, a leading mechanic was always appointed as the moderator. The “caucus,” as it came to be known, kept meeting there until after the tea was destroyed, when it became necessary to move to a different location for more privacy, and the Green Dragon on Union Street was chosen.

The Salutation had a sign that appealed to people's love for the quirky or funny. It showed two citizens with their hands out, bowing and scraping to each other in the most accepted way. That's why the North-Enders called it “The Two Palaverers,” which is how it became widely known. This place also reminded people of the Salutation on Newgate Street in London, which was a popular spot for Lamb and Coleridge.

The Green Dragon will likely remain more popular than any of its peers. First of all, a mural plaque featuring a dragon carved in relief has been placed on the wall of the building that now exists on part of the old tavern site. It's the only one of the old inns to receive such recognition. Its sign was the legendary dragon, made of hammered metal, sticking out above the door, and it was probably similar to the Green Dragon in Bishopsgate Street, London.

The Green Dragon Tavern

As a pub, this one dates back to 1712, when[Pg 47] Richard Pullen ran it; and we also see it mentioned in 1715 as a spot for registering horses to compete for a piece of silver worth twenty-five pounds. By the way, Revere Beach was the popular racing track back then. The pub was conveniently located to catch travelers heading to and from the northern counties.

THE GREEN DRAGON.

To continue the historical connection between the Salutation and its worthy successor, the Green Dragon, it seems that Dr. Warren remained the dominant figure after the move. If he wasn't already a beloved figure, he was definitely close to it, as everything indicated he was the emerging leader that the situation demanded. Samuel Adams had a different kind of popularity. He was calm, insightful, and persistent, but he definitely lacked a certain charisma. Warren was much younger, more impulsive, and aggressive—in short, he had all the more dazzling qualities for leadership that Adams didn't possess. Additionally, he was a smooth and effective speaker, a[Pg 48] charming person, handsome, friendly, with open and engaging manners, all of which contributed to his popularity. Adams commanded respect, while Warren inspired confidence. As Adams himself said, he belonged to the “cabinet,” while Warren’s entire presence clearly marked him for active leadership.

In all the local events leading up to our revolutionary fight, this Green Dragon group was an active and influential force. It represented the strength of the Revolution. Every member took an oath of secrecy, and only one of them broke that oath.

These were the men who raised the alarm on the night before the battle of Lexington, who cleverly moved cannon right under General Gage's nose, and who bravely fought alongside the republican army in many instances. Looking for someone he could completely trust, Warren quickly picked Paul Revere for the most crucial tasks. He found him as reliable as they come. A special kind of friendship seems to have developed between the two, likely due to the shared boldness they both had. So when Warren told Revere that he needed to ride to Lexington immediately or everything would be lost, he knew that if it was within a man's power, it would be done.

Besides the more famous tavern clubs, there were many private groups, some made up entirely of politicians, while others were more like our modern debating societies. These clubs usually [Pg 49] gathered at the homes of their members, quietly influencing the political landscape. The non-importation agreement started at a private club in 1773. But not everyone was on the patriot side. The crown had equally committed supporters who met and discussed the situation openly, unlike the other side, which was advised to keep their activities secret. Some groups tried to stay neutral, criticizing the mother country's overreach but supporting passive compliance. Dryden described them:

“Not Whigs or Tories, not this or that,
Neither birds nor animals, just a kind of bat,—
A creature of twilight, loyal to no one,
"With Tory support but Whig-like teeth and claws."

It should be noted that Gridley, the founder of the Boston Bar, took it upon himself in 1765 to start a law club aimed at standing up against Otis, Thatcher, and Auchmuty. John Adams and Fitch were Gridley’s top guys. They first gathered at Ballard’s, and then at each other’s offices; their “sodality,” as they called it, was focused on professional study and progress. Gridley seemed to feel a bit envious of his former student, Otis, who had outperformed him in the famous case regarding the Writs of Assistance. There is also mention of a club that included Daniel Leonard (Massachusettensis), John Lowell, Elisha Hutchinson, Frank Dana, [Pg 50] and Josiah Quincy. Similar clubs were also found in most of the major towns in New England.

The Sons of Liberty took on the name that Colonel Barré used for the opponents of passive obedience in America. They gathered in the counting-room of Chase and Speakman’s distillery, near Liberty Tree.[3] Mackintosh, the guy who led the mob during the Stamp Act riots, is likely the same person who helped toss the tea overboard. We don’t hear anything more about him after this. The “Sons” were a very democratic group, as most members were craftsmen. Among them were people like Avery, Crafts, and Edes the printer. All of them gained a degree of prominence. Edes continued to publish the Boston Gazette long after the Revolution. During Bernard’s time in office, he was offered all the government printing if he would stop opposing the crown's policies. He turned down the bribe, and his paper was the only one in America printed without a stamp, directly defying an Act of Parliament. The “Sons” carried out their plans so vigorously that it caused a lot of worry among the loyalists, who were still shaken by the Stamp Act riots. Samuel Adams is believed to have had more influence on their activities than any of the other leaders. It wasn’t a group of ascetics trying to deny themselves pleasures; they enjoyed punch and tobacco to help fuel their discussions.

The Freedom Tree

[Pg 51]No significant political group survived the start of the conflict. All the leaders were involved in military or civil service on one side or the other. From the group that met at the Merchants’, three were members of the Philadelphia Congress of 1774, one was the president of the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, two had their careers cut short by death, and Otis’s career ended due to mental illness.

[Pg 52]

SIGNBOARD JOKES.

Another tavern sign, though from a later time, was that of the Good Woman at the North End. This Good Woman was depicted without a head.

Still another board had a painted bird, a tree, a ship, and a foaming can, with the caption,—

“This is the bird that never flew,
This is the tree that never grew,
This is the ship that never sets sail,
"This is the can that always works."

[Pg 53]The Dog and Pot, Turk’s Head, and Tun and Bacchus were also classic and beloved symbols. Some of the places that displayed these signs were charming examples of our early architecture. Additionally, the signs themselves were often created by skilled artists. Smibert or Copley might have painted some of them. West once offered five hundred dollars for a red lion he had painted for a tavern sign.

Dog and pot.

Not a few boards showed a lot of creativity and common sense, which had a significant impact, especially on thirsty Jack, who could hardly be expected to ignore an offer like this one from the Ship in Distress:

“With sorrows I’m surrounded;
"Please help me, my ship is stuck."

We hear about another sign hanging out at the far South End of the town, featuring a globe with a man breaking through the surface, like a[Pg 54] chick hatching from its shell. The man’s nakedness was meant to symbolize extreme poverty.

So much for the sign itself. The story goes that early one morning a continental regiment was stopped in front of the tavern after making a forced march from Providence. The men were exhausted, covered in mud, and starving. One of these veterans definitely expressed what everyone else was feeling when he shouted to the man on the sign, “Join up, damn you! Join up, and you’ll get through this world quickly enough!”

“HOW AM I GOING TO MAKE IT IN THIS WORLD?”

During wartime, taverns were popular spots for recruiting. The ones by the water were perfect for picking up guys among the idle patrons in the taprooms. Back in 1745, when we were at war with France, posters were put up in town announcing that, “All gentlemen sailors and others, who wish to go on a cruise off of [Pg 55] Cape Breton, on board the brigantine Hawk, Captain Philip Bass in charge, armed with fourteen cannons and twenty swivel guns, sailing alongside the brigantine Ranger, Captain Edward Fryer in charge, of similar strength, to intercept East India, South Sea, and other ships headed to Cape Breton, should go to the Widow Gray’s at the Crown Tavern, at the head of Clark’s Wharf, to join Captain Bass, or to Vernon’s Head, Richard Smith’s, on King Street, to go on the Ranger.” The term “gentlemen sailors” must have amused the seasoned sailors quite a bit.

The following notice, published on the same date in a very public way, is now fascinating to read: “For sale, a promising Black or mixed-race boy, around eleven years old.” This was in Boston.

The Revolution brought about quick and significant changes to many of the old, beloved signboards. While the core idea stayed the same, their meaning was now repurposed. Down came the king’s symbols and up went the people's arms. Crowns and scepters, along with lions and unicorns, fueled patriotic bonfires or were permanently covered up. Along with them vanished the last remnants of the monarchy. The crown was smashed into a cocked hat, and the scepter fell when the sword was drawn. The portraits of Washington, Hancock, Putnam, and Lee now ignited the spirit of battle instead of Vernon, Hawk, or Wolfe. Loyalty to old and cherished traditions was swept away as mercilessly as if it were simply the [Pg 56] reflection of the loyalty that the colonists had now cast off forever. They embraced the belief that when a subject draws his sword against his king, he should discard the scabbard.

Such actions shouldn’t be blamed on the changing whims of public opinion that Horace Walpole has written about, or that the poet mocks in the lines,—

“Vernon, the Butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppell, Howe,
Good and bad have both been widely discussed,
"And filled their signpost just like Wellesley does today."

We should give credit to that genuine and passionate outburst of patriotic feeling that, after throwing royalty out, angrily tossed its worthless trappings into the street behind it.

Not a single example of the old inns is left in Boston. Everything has changed. Demolition is happening everywhere. Doesn't this lack of permanence strongly suggest the need to honor a famous place with some kind of memorial? It’s true that some progress has been made in this area, but there’s still a lot more to do. This way, many interesting and valuable pieces of information can be found in the streets for anyone to see. It has been observed that very few people walk past these memorials without stopping to read the inscriptions. Clearly, there’s no better way to teach history than this. If done on a larger scale, the[Pg 57] city would still retain its historical charm with records displayed on the walls of its buildings, and we would have a local application of the couplet:

“Oh, but a clever person can learn out in the streets,
"and raise their thoughts above the crowd they meet."

[Pg 58]

[Pg 59]

APPENDIX.

[Pg 60]

[Pg 61]

BOSTON TAVERNS TO THE YEAR 1800.

The Anchor, or Blue Anchor. Robert Turner, a winemaker, took over the estate (formerly owned by Richard Fairbanks) in 1652, passed away in 1664, and was succeeded in the business by his son John, who ran it until his own death in 1681. Turner’s widow married George Monck, who managed the Anchor until his death in 1698; his widow continued the business until 1703, when the estate likely stopped functioning as a tavern. The building was destroyed in the major fire of 1711. The old and new Globe buildings are now on that site. [See communication of William R. Bagnall in Boston Daily Globe of April 2, 1885.] Committees of the General Court used to hold meetings here. (Hutchinson Coll., 345, 347.)

Admiral Vernon, or Vernon’s Head, located at the corner of State Street and Merchants’ Row. In 1743, Peter Faneuil’s warehouse was across the street. Richard Smith ran it in 1745, and Mary Bean took over in 1775; the sign featured a portrait of the admiral.

**American Coffee Shop.** See *British Coffee Shop*.

Black Horse, on Prince Street, previously Black Horse Lane, named after the tavern as early as 1698.

Brazen-Head. In Old Cornhill. While it’s not a tavern, it’s notable as the location where the Great Fire of 1760 started.

Bull, lower end of Summer Street, north side; torn down in 1833 to create “the new street from Sea to [Pg 62] Broad,” which was once Flounder Lane, now Atlantic Avenue. It was an old building at that time. Bull’s Wharf and Lane were named after it.

British Coffee-House, referenced in 1762. It was run by John Ballard. Cord Cordis, in 1771.

Bunch of Grapes. Owned by Francis Holmes, 1712; William Coffin, 1731-33; Edward Lutwych, 1733; Joshua Barker, 1749; William Wetherhead, 1750; Rebecca Coffin, 1760; Joseph Ingersoll, 1764-72. [In 1768, Ingersoll also had a wine cellar next door.] Captain John Marston was the landlord from 1775-78; William Foster, 1782; Colonel Dudley Colman, 1783; James Vila, 1789, the same year he moved to Concert Hall; Thomas Lobdell, 1789. Trinity Church was founded in this building. It was often referred to as being at the head of Long Wharf.

Castle Tavern, later known as the George Tavern. Located northeast by Wing’s Lane (Elm Street), at the southeast corner by Dock Square. For details about Hudson’s marriage issues, check Winthrop’s New England, II. 249. Another establishment with the same name is referenced in 1675 and 1693. An even earlier name was the “Blew Bell,” from 1673. It was situated on Mackerel Lane (Kilby Street), at the corner of Liberty Square.

Cole’s Inn. See the referenced deed in Proc. Am. Ant. Soc., VII. p. 51. For the story of Lord Leigh, check Old Landmarks of Boston, p. 109.

Cromwell’s Head, by Anthony Brackett, 1760; by his widow, 1764-68; later by Joshua Brackett. A two-story wooden house advertised for sale, 1802.

Crown Coffee-House. First building on Long Wharf. Thomas Selby ran it from 1718 to 1724; Widow Anna Swords operated it in 1749; then it belonged to Governor Belcher; Belcher sold it to Richard Smith, innkeeper, who in 1751 sold it to Robert Sherlock.

Crown Tavern. Widow Day’s, at Clark’s Wharf; meeting spot for privateers in 1745.

THE CROWN COFFEE HOUSE (Location of Fidelity Trust Building)

[Pg 63]Cross Tavern, at the corner of Cross and Ann Streets, 1732; Samuel Mattocks advertised in 1729 two young bears that were "very tame" for sale at the Sign of the Cross. Cross Street got its name from the tavern. It might be the same as the Red Cross on Ann Street, mentioned in 1746, which was run by John Osborn. Men who signed up for the Canada expedition were instructed to report there.

Dog and Pot, located at the beginning of Bartlett’s Wharf on Ann (North) Street, or as it was then called, Fish Street. Bartlett’s Wharf was situated in 1722 just northeast of Lee’s shipyard.

Concert Hall wasn't originally a public venue; it was built mostly as a space for musical performances, dances, parties, and similar events, even though the lessee probably served refreshments there. A “concert of music” was advertised to take place there as early as 1755. (See Landmarks of Boston.) Thomas Turner operated a dance and fencing school there in 1776. As mentioned, James Vila took over Concert Hall in 1789. The old hall, which was on the second floor, was tall enough to be converted into two stories when the building was later modified by new owners. It was made of brick and featured two decorative scrolls on the front, which were removed during the renovations.

Great Britain Coffee-House, Ann Street, 1715. The residence of Mr. Daniel Stevens, Ann Street, close to the drawbridge. There was another establishment with the same name on Queen (Court) Street, near the Exchange, in 1713, where “superfine bohea, and green tea, chocolate, coffee powder, etc.,” were advertised.

George, or St. George, Tavern, on the Neck, close to the Roxbury line. (See Landmarks of Boston.) It was mentioned as early as 1721. Simon Rogers ran it from 1730 to 1734. In 1769, Edward Bardin took over and renamed it the King’s Arms. Thomas Brackett was the landlord in 1770.[Pg 64] Samuel Mears managed it afterward. During the siege of 1775, the British burned the tavern since it was on our front line. At that time, it was still referred to by its original name, the George.

Golden Ball. Loring’s Tavern, Merchants’ Row, corner of Corn Court, 1777. Run by Mrs. Loring in 1789.

General Wolfe, Town Dock, north side of Faneuil Hall, 1768. Elizabeth Coleman is selling brewing utensils, etc., 1773.

Green Dragon, also known as Freemason’s Arms. By Richard Pullin, 1712; by Mr. Pattoun, 1715; Joseph Kilder, 1734, who came from the Three Cranes, Charlestown. John Cary was licensed to operate it in 1769; Benjamin Burdick, 1771, when it became the meeting spot for the Revolutionary Club. St. Andrews Lodge of Freemasons purchased the building before the Revolution and continued to own it for over a century. See p. 46.

Hancock House, Corn Court; the sign features a portrait of Governor Hancock—a terrible painting; it's said to be the house where Louis Philippe stayed during his brief visit to Boston.

Hat and Helmet, by Daniel Jones; less than a quarter of a mile south of the Town Hall.

Indian Queen, Blue Bell, and —— were located at the site of the Parker Block on Washington Street, which used to be Marlborough Street. Nathaniel Bishop managed it in 1673. After stagecoaches started running into the countryside, this place, then run by Zadock Pomeroy, became a regular departure point for the Concord, Groton, and Leominster stages. It was later replaced by the Washington Coffee-House. The Indian Queen on Bromfield Street was another famous stagehouse, although it wasn’t as old. Isaac Trask, his widow Nabby, Simeon Boyden, and Preston Shepard ran it. The Bromfield House took its place on the site of the Methodist Book Concern.

BOSTON NEWSLETTER, FEB. 15, 1770

Text of Illustration

COLUMBIAN CENTINEL. DEC. 11, 1799

Text of Illustration

COLUMBIAN CENTINEL, JAN. 1, 1800

Text of Illustration

[Pg 65]

JULIEN HOUSE.

Julien’s Restorator, at the corner of Congress and Milk streets. One of the oldest buildings in Boston, it was taken down in 1824 after having survived the great fire of 1759. It stood in a grassy area, fenced off from the street. It was a private residence until 1794. Then Jean Baptiste Julien opened the first public dining place in Boston, cleverly named “Restorator,” an attempt to adapt the French word restaurant into English. Before this, such establishments were always referred to as cook-shops. Julien was a Frenchman who, like many others from his homeland, sought refuge in America during the Reign of Terror. His soups quickly became famous among the food lovers in town, while the uniqueness of his cuisine drew in customers. He was commonly referred to as the “Prince of Soups.” After Julien’s[Pg 66] death in 1805, his widow took over the business and successfully ran it for another ten years. The following lines were addressed to her successor, Frederick Rouillard:

JULIEN’S RESTAURANT.
I could tell by the glow on Frederick's cheeks that he was really enjoying himself;
I said, “If there are steaks in town,
The guy who loves venison should definitely check this place out.”

It was two o'clock, and the dinners were steaming all around,
People rushed home, drawn by the delicious smell,
And the street was so quiet I could only hear
The bartender ringing the Coffee-House bell.

“And here in the cozy Old Club,”[4] I exclaimed,
“With a tender steak and Frederick’s best wine,
While under my plate a spirit-flame burned,
How long could I stay, and how well could I eat!”

“Next to my venison, a glass of beer,
Or a bottle of sherry would be so nice to have,
And knowing I had the best of the deer,
That was never worth more to anyone than me!”

King’s Head, located at Scarlet’s Wharf (northwest corner of Fleet and North streets); burned down in 1691 and was rebuilt. Fleet Street used to be called Scarlet’s Wharf Lane. It was managed by James Davenport in 1755, and likely by his widow afterward. “A maiden dwarf, fifty-two years old,” who was only twenty-two inches tall, was “on display at Widow Bignall’s,” next to the King’s Head, in August 1771. The old King’s Head, on Chancery Lane in London, was the[Pg 67] meeting place for Titus Oates’ group. Cowley the poet was born there.

Lamb. The sign was mentioned as early as 1746. Colonel Doty managed it in 1760. The first stagecoach to Providence stopped at this house. The Adams House is located on the same site, named after Laban Adams, who used to run the Lamb.

Lion, previously Grand Turk. Located on Washington Street in Newbury. (See Landmarks of Boston.) Run by Israel Hatch in 1789.

Light-House and Anchor, at the North End, in 1763. Robert Whatley was the owner at that time. A Light-house tavern is mentioned on King Street, across from the Town-House, in 1718.

Orange Tree, at the top of Hanover Street, 1708. Jonathan Wardwell owned it in 1712; Mrs. Wardwell took over in 1724; it was still a tavern in 1785. Wardwell established the first hackney-coach stand in Boston here.

Philadelphia, or North End Coffee-House, across from the end of Hancock’s Wharf. Run by David Porter, father of the old Commodore and grandfather of the current Admiral. “Lodges, clubs, societies, etc., can be catered to with dinners and suppers—small, private rooms for intimate gatherings—oyster suppers done exquisitely.” Previously managed by Bennet. In 1789, it was occupied by Robert Wyre, a distiller.

Punch Bowl, Dock Square, run by Mrs. Baker, 1789.

Queen’s Head. In 1732, Joshua Pierce, the innkeeper, was permitted to transfer his license from the sign of the Logwood Tree on Lynn Street to the Queen’s Head, close to Scarlet’s Wharf, where Anthony Young last lived.

Roebuck, on the north side of Town Dock (North Market Street). A disreputable establishment where Henry Phillips murdered Gaspard Dennegri and was executed for it in 1817. Roebuck passage, the alley that leads to Ann Street,[Pg 68] got its name from the tavern. It is now part of the northern expansion of Merchants’ Row.

Rose and Crown, near the fort at Boston Neck. Available for rent January 25, 1728: “ask Gillam Phillips.” This might be the house shown on Bonner’s map from 1722.

Red Lion, North Street, at the corner of Richmond. Recorded as early as 1654 and as late as 1766. John Buchanan, a baker, operated nearby in 1712.

Royal Exchange, State Street, corner Exchange. An old two-story brick building. Noted under this name in 1711, then run by Benjamin Johns; in 1727, and again in 1747, by Luke Vardy. Stone managed it in 1768. Mrs. Mary Clapham hosted many British officers and had several lovely daughters, one of whom ran away with an officer. The site of the Boston Massacre has been marked by a bronze plaque placed on the wall of the Merchants’ Bank, across from a wheel-line pattern in the paving, indicating where the first blood of the Revolution was spilled. It was customary to display transparencies every anniversary of the Massacre from the front of this house. The first stagecoach ever to travel the route from Boston to New York began on September 7, 1772, by Nicholas Brown, from this house, “to go once every fourteen days.” Israel Hatch operated it in 1800, serving as a regular stop for the Providence stages, which he owned; but after the turnpike was completed, he moved to Attleborough.

Salutation, North Street, corner Salutation. See p. 45. Noted in 1708; Samuel Green ran it in 1731; William Campbell, who passed away unexpectedly from a fit, January 18, 1773.

Seven Stars, located on Summer Street, named that street Seven Star Lane. It was said to have been on part of the old Trinity Church lot. “Near the Haymarket” in 1771, it was then run by Jonathan Patten.

THE SUN TAVERN (Dock Square)

[Pg 69]Shakespeare, Water Street, the second house below Devonshire; run by Mrs. Baker.

Ship, at the corner of Clark and North streets; run by John Vyall, 1666-67; often referred to as Noah’s Ark.

Ship in Distress, near North Square.

Star, on Hanover Street, at the corner of Link Alley, 1704. Link Alley was what they called the section of Union Street west of Hanover. Stephen North ran it from 1712 to 1714. It was owned by Lieutenant-Governor Stoughton.

State’s Arms, also known as King’s Arms. Colonel Henry Shrimpton left it to his daughter Sarah in 1666. Hugh Gunnison sold it to Shrimpton in 1651, and at that time, the tavern was called King’s Arms.

Sun. This appears to have been a popular symbol, as there were multiple houses with this name. The Sun on Batterymarch Street was once the home of Benjamin Hallowell, a loyalist, before it turned into a tavern. The property was taken over. General Henry Dearborn lived there at one point. The sign displayed a gilded sun, with rays, along with this inscription:

“The best beer and stout
Under the Sun.”

Upon the conversion of the inn into a store, the sign of the Sun was moved to a house on Moon Street. The Sun in Dock Square, at the corner of Corn Court, was previously run by Samuel Mears, who had "recently passed away" in 1727. It was eventually turned into a grocery store, first run by George Murdock and then by his successor, Wellington. A third establishment with this name was located in Cornhill (Washington Street) in 1755, managed by Captain James Day. There was yet another Sun, near Boston Stone, operated by Joseph Jackson in 1785.

[Pg 70]Swan, in Fish, now North Street, “by Scarlett’s Wharf,” 1708. There was another one at the South End, “almost directly across from Arnold Welles’,” in 1784.

Three Horse-Shoes, “on the street leading up to the Common,” probably Tremont Street. Run by Mrs. Glover, who passed away around 1744. William Clears ran it in 1775.

White Horse, a short distance south of the Lamb. It had a white horse painted on the sign. Managed by Joseph Morton in 1760, who was still the landlord in 1772. Israel Hatch, who was everywhere, took over in 1787 when he arrived from Attleborough. His announcement is one of a kind. (See Landmarks of Boston, pp. 392, 393.)

BOSTON NEWSLETTER, MAY 27, 1773

Text of Illustration

[Pg 71]

COLE'S INN

THE BAKERS' ARMS

THE GOLDEN BALL TAVERN

BY

WALTER K. WATKINS

AND

HANCOCK TAVERN

BY

E. W. McGLENEN

[Pg 72]

[Pg 73]

Samuel Cole's Inn.

Samuel Cole came to Boston with Governor Winthrop's fleet, and he and his wife Ann were the fortieth and forty-first on the list of original members of the First Church. He requested to become a freeman on October 19, 1630, and was sworn in on May 18, 1631. He was the ninth to sign the roll of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company in 1637 and was disarmed that same year due to his religious beliefs. In 1636, he contributed to the support of a free school and in 1656 to the construction of the town house. In 1652, he was one of those selected to receive funds for Harvard College. In 1634, he opened the first ordinary, or inn, located on Washington Street, almost directly across from the head of Water Street. Here, in 1636, Sir Henry Vane, the governor, hosted Miantonomo and two of Canonicus’s sons, along with other leaders. While the four sachems dined at the Governor’s residence, which was near the entrance to Pemberton Square, about twenty chiefs dined at Cole’s Inn. During this time, a peace treaty was finalized between the English and the Narragansetts.

[Pg 74]In June 1637, the ship Hector arrived in Boston Harbor from London, carrying Rev. John Davenport and two London merchants, Theophilus Eaton and Edward Hopkins, who was his son-in-law and would later become governors of Connecticut. Also on board was a young man, James, Lord Ley, a ward of King Charles I., and the son of the deceased Earl of Marlborough. He would go on to hold significant positions and gain recognition as a mathematician and navigator.

The Earl of Marlborough, while in Boston, stayed at Cole’s Inn. During his time there, he behaved himself well and paid attention to the country he came to explore. He often spent time with Sir Henry Vane, visiting Maverick at Noddle’s Island, and returned to England with Vane in August 1637.

His estate in England was a small one in Teffont Evias, or Ewyas, Wilts, near Hinton Station, and in the church there may still be seen the tombs of the Leys. He also had a reversion to lands in Heywood, Wilts.

In 1649, he made a deal with Parliament regarding his lands and, after signing a bond, was allowed to leave England for the colonies in America.

On the restoration of Charles II in 1661, the Earl went back to England, and the following year, the King helped him put together an expedition to the West Indies. In 1665, he commanded that massive ship, the Old James, and in the major victorious naval battle on June 3 against the Dutch, he was killed, along with Rear Admiral Sansum, Lords Portland, Muskerry, and others.

[Pg 75]He died without any children, and the title passed to his uncle, but it became extinct with him, only to be revived later by the more famous Duke from the Churchill family.

It was soon after the Earl left that Cole was penalized for sympathizing with his neighbor to the south, Mrs. Ann Hutchinson, and he was also fined at the same time for disturbances happening at his home. The next spring, he was allowed to sell his house, to which he had just added an extension, and he sold it to Capt. Robert Sedgwick in February 1638.

Cole then moved to a house mistakenly identified by some as the first inn, located next to his son-in-law, Edmund Grosse, near the shore on North Street. He sold this house in 1645 to George Halsall and purchased other land from Valentine Hill.

THE BAKERS' ARMS

[Pg 76]

The Bakers' Arms.

Forerunner of the Green Dragon.

Thomas Hawkins, a biscuit baker and brother of James Hawkins, a bricklayer, was born in England in 1608. He owned property in Boston in 1636; his wife Hannah was admitted to the church there in 1641, and that year their son Abraham, born in 1637, was baptized. Their home lot was on the west side of Washington Street, the second lot north of Court Street. He also owned a quarter of an acre near Mill Cove and a house purchased in 1645 from John Trotman.

In 1662, James Johnson, a glover, sold three-quarters of an acre of marsh and upland, with the Mill Cove to the north and east, to Hawkins. By this time, Hawkins was living by the Mill Cove in a house built in 1649. In addition to operating his bakehouse, he ran a cook shop and served refreshments to his customers, including beer. A mortgage on the property in 1663 to Simon Lynde revealed, aside from the dwelling and bakehouse, a stable, brew house, outhouses, and three garden plots on the upland. In 1667, the Rev. Thomas Thacher provided Hawkins with £200 to pay off this mortgage. The property stretched from the Mill Pond to Hanover Street, was[Pg 77] bordered to the north by Union Street, and measured 280 feet by 104 feet—about two-thirds of an acre.

Thacher had married Margaret, the widow of Jacob Sheafe and daughter of Henry Webb, a wealthy merchant. Mrs. Sheafe had a daughter, Mehitabel, who married her cousin, Sampson Sheafe. Mr. Thacher transferred the mortgage to Sampson Sheafe, and on October 31, 1670, when the payment was due, Sheafe got a legal ruling for possession of the property, which had come to be known as the "Bakers’ Arms," a tavern that Hawkins had run since 1665.

Hawkins had married a second wife, and in January 1671, Rebecca Hawkins transferred her rights to the property to Sheafe. On May 15, 1672, Hawkins petitioned the General Court, complaining that Sheafe had evicted him and seized his household belongings; that his houses and land were worth £800, while Sheafe had only contributed £175. He requested an appraisal, and the petitioner's request was granted.

In 1673, Hawkins took Sheafe to the County Court for selling some brewing tools, including a pump, a sign, a ladder, a cooler, and a mash fat (a wooden container that holds eight bushels) taken from the brewery. He also disputed charges in Sheafe’s account against him, such as “Goodman Drury's work on the house and Goodman Cooper's painting it.” At this time, there were two houses on the lot. Sheafe sold the eastern house in May 1673 to John Howlet, which became known as the Star Tavern.

[Pg 78]On April 10, 1673, Sampson Sheafe sold the western part of the Hawkins property to William Stoughton.

In 1678, Mrs. Hawkins asked the General Court for permission, as well as the town, to sell wine and strong liquor due to her husband's poor health and their needs. On June 11, 1680, the General Court granted her eleven pounds, cleared of all claims and debts. After Hawkins passed away, she married John Stebbins, a baker, on June 4, 1680. Stebbins died on December 4, 1681, at the age of 70, and the widow Rebecca Stebbins was licensed as an innkeeper in 1690.

In 1699, widow Stebbins, then 77 years old, testified about her husband Thomas Hawkins owning the southeast corner or sea end of half a warehouse at the foot of the Draw Bridge. He bought it from Joshua Scotto, and Hawkins sold it in 1657 to Edward Tyng. Hawkins used it for landing and storing corn for his baking business. He bought the sea end for easier access for vessels to unload. It's likely the portion sold to Stoughton only had a frontage of two hundred and four feet on Union Street. Sheafe had torn down part of the building and made repairs, and Nicholas Wilmot was the tenant of the "Bakers’ Arms." Wilmot came to Boston around 1650. In 1674, the town allowed him to sell beer and provide entertainment, and in 1682, he was licensed as an innkeeper.

By his wife Mary, he had Elizabeth, who married (1) Caleb Rawlins, an innkeeper who died in 1693, and (2) Richard Newland; Abigail, who married Abraham Adams, another innkeeper; Hannah, who married[Pg 79] Nathaniel Adams of Charlestown, a blockmaker; Mary, who married John Alger; and Ann, the youngest, who married Joseph Allen. There were also two sons, Samuel and John Wilmot. Nicholas Wilmot died in 1684, and shortly after, his widow married Abraham Smith to help manage the tavern.

The tavern was fairly large for its time, and it might have been expanded by Stoughton. The rooms were labeled with names like those in the taverns of Old England. In the room known as the “Cross Keys” met the Scots Charitable Society, a benefit organization for people of Scottish descent and visitors from Scotland, with two officers each holding a key to the money box. The most famous room was the “Green Dragon,” which around this time gave its name to the tavern. There were also the “Anchor,” the “Castle,” the “Sun,” and the “Rose” rooms, which were also the names of other taverns in town at that time. One cold December night in 1690, just after midnight, a fire broke out in the “Green Dragon,” burning it to the ground and leaving very little of its contents intact. Snow on the nearby houses helped prevent the flames from spreading, along with the lack of wind at the time. Within a year or two, Stoughton rebuilt the tavern, which was again run by Abraham Smith, who died in 1696, leaving behind an estate valued at £273: 19: 5. His widow, Mary Smith, passed away shortly after her husband. In her will, she freed her enslaved women Sue and Maria, and the manumission deeds are recorded in the Suffolk Deeds.

[Pg 80]

The Golden Ball Tavern.

In the manuscript collections of the Bostonian Society, there’s a plan showing the first owners of the land around the Corn Market. On the site that is now the southeast corner of Faneuil Hall Square and Merchants’ Row, the land is noted as being owned by Edward Tyng. Another unique manuscript from the Society is an apprentice indenture for Robert Orchard from 1662. The account of Orchard, printed in the Publications of the Society, Vol. IV, details the ongoing history of Tyng’s land after it was taken over by Theodore Atkinson. The history of the sign of the Golden Ball Tavern continues the story of the same piece of land.

Originally owned by Edward Tyng, then by Theodore Atkinson, and later by Henry Deering, who bought the property after marrying the widow of Atkinson’s son Theodore. All this was discussed in the Orchard article.

It was around 1700 when Henry Deering built a structure on his land on the north side of a passage leading from Merchants’ Row, on its west side, which quickly turned into a tavern. Samuel Tyley, who had managed the Star in 1699, the Green Dragon in 1701, and later the Salutation at the North End, left this last tavern in 1711 to take over Mr. Deering’s place in Merchants’ Row, the Golden Ball.

SIGN OF THE BUNCH OF GRAPES
Now in the Masonic Temple

SIGN OF THE GOLDEN BALL
Now in the hands of the Bostonian Society

Henry Deering died in 1717 and was buried with his wife on the same day. He was a man deeply involved in public affairs. In 1707, he suggested building a facility to store the town's records. At the same time, he proposed a wharf at the end of the street, now known as State Street, which then only went as far as Merchants’ Row. This was quickly built and became known as “Boston Pier” or “Long Wharf.” He also presented a proposal for “Preventing Desolation by Fire” in the town.

In the division of Deering’s estate in 1720, the house occupied by Samuel Tyley, known as the Golden Ball, along with access to the passage on the south and the well, was given to his daughter Mary, who was married to William Wilson. Mrs. Wilson, who was a widow when she wrote her will in 1729, bequeathed the house to her namesake and niece, Mary, the daughter of her brother, Capt. Henry Deering. By the time Mrs. Wilson passed away in 1753, her niece was married to John Gooch, whom she had wed in 1736. Samuel Tyley died in 1722 while still being the landlord of the Golden Ball.

The next landlord we know about was William Patten, who took over the Green Dragon in 1714. In 1733, he was the host at the Golden Ball, where he remained until 1736, when he took the inn on West Street, across from the schoolhouse, next to the property that later became known as the Washington Gardens.

[Pg 82]He was succeeded by Humphrey Scarlett, who died on January 4, 1739-40, at the age of forty-six and is buried on Copp’s Hill with his first wife, Mehitable (Pierce) Scarlett. He married Mary Wentworth as his second wife. With his first wife, he had a daughter named Mary (b. 1719), who married Jedediah Lincoln, Jr., and with his second wife, he had a son named Humphrey. When the son was a year old, in 1735, two Black servants of Scarlett, named Yaw and Caesar, were indicted for attempting to poison the family one morning at breakfast by putting rat poison or arsenic in the chocolate. Four months after Scarlett’s death, his widow married William Ireland.

Richard Gridley, born in Boston in 1710, was apprenticed to Theodore Atkinson, a merchant, and later became a gauger. In 1735, he ran a tavern on Common Street, now Tremont Street. By order of the General Court, he hosted four Indians, chiefs of the Pigwacket tribe, at a cost of £40 “for drinks, tobacco, food, and accommodations.” Five pounds of that was for extra effort. The Committee found the charges excessive and reduced his payment to £33 for their stay from June 28 to July 9. In 1738, he took the Golden Ball. His later reputation as an engineer and artillery officer at Louisburg and other places is well known.

Gridley was succeeded as landlord in 1740 by Increase Blake. He was born in Dorchester in 1699 and married Anne, the daughter of Edward and Susanna (Harrison) Gray. Her parents are noted in Boston history for owning the rope-walks at Fort Hill. Blake, a tinplate worker, served as the sealer of[Pg 83] weights and measures, and in 1737 he leased a shop from the town at the head of the Town Dock. He later lived near Battery March and lost his home in the fire of 1760.

In 1715, John Marston was born in Salem. He married Hannah Welland in 1740, and they had three daughters. In 1745, during the first siege of Louisburg, he served as a first lieutenant in the fifth company, led by Capt. Charles King, in Colonel Jeremiah Moulton’s regiment. After his wife passed away, he married her sister, Mrs. Elizabeth (Welland) Blake. His second wife also died, and in 1755, he married Elizabeth Greenwood. He was the landlord of the Golden Ball as early as 1757. In 1760, he bought a house on the southwest corner of Hanover and Cross streets, and later acquired more property on Copp’s Hill. He is said to have been a member of the “Boston Tea Party.” During the Revolution, he was known as “Captain” Marston and took care of military matters in Boston, supplying muskets to the townspeople as a committeeman. He continued to operate a tavern and went to the Bunch of Grapes in 1775. In 1778, he was warned for allowing gaming in his establishment, like backgammon. He died in August 1786 while running the Bunch of Grapes on King, now State Street, and his widow took over the business of selling liquor. He left behind an estate worth £2000.

Benjamin Loring, born in Hingham in 1736, married Sarah Smith in Boston in 1771. During the Revolution, he ran the Golden Ball. He passed away in the spring of[Pg 84] 1782, and his widow took over and managed the tavern until her death in 1790.

From the inventory of her estate, it seems that the house had, on the ground floor, a large front room, a small front room, the bar and kitchen, and closets in the entry. There was also a front and a back chamber, a front upper chamber, and another upper chamber and attic, completing the list of rooms. On the shelves of the bar were large and small china bowls for punch, decanters for wine, tumblers, wine glasses, and case bottles. There was also a small sieve and a lemon squeezer, along with a Bible, Psalms, and prayer books. An old Highland sword hung on the wall of the front chamber.

The cash available at the widow's death included 4 English shillings, 20 New England shillings, 10 English sixpences, a French crown, a piece of Spanish currency, half a guinea, and bank notes worth £4: 10. In one of the rooms was 8483 Continental paper money, which had no appraised value.

Benjamin Loring, at his death, left his share of half a house in Hingham to be used by his wife during her lifetime, then to his sisters, Abigail and Elizabeth, and finally to go to Benjamin, the son of his brother Joseph Loring of Hingham. The younger Benjamin became a resident of Boston, a captain of the “Ancients,” and a colonel in the militia. He started his career as a bookbinder and later became a stationer and a manufacturer of blank books, leaving behind a considerable fortune at his death in 1859. His portrait is displayed in the Armory of the Artillery Company. A portrait[Pg 85] of the elder Loring (the landlord of the Golden Ball) depicts him with an attractive face and wearing a tie-wig.

The Columbian Centinel of December 3, 1794, had the following advertisement:

Mr. Storer was the agent for Mary, the wife of Rev. Benjamin Gerrish Gray from Windsor, N.S., who inherited from Mary Gooch, who lived in Marshfield, Mass., when she passed away. Mr. Gray was the son of Joseph Gray from Boston and Halifax, N.S., a loyalist. Mary, the heiress, was a daughter of Nathaniel Ray Thomas, a loyalist from Marshfield, who had married Sally Deering, the sister of Mary Gooch from Marshfield.

The property was sold by Mrs. Gray on June 9, 1795, to James Tisdale, a merchant, who also bought the neighboring lots. It was at this time that the Golden Ball vanished from Merchants’ Row, where it had served as a landmark for around a century. Tisdale quickly sold his lots to Joseph Blake, another merchant, who built warehouses on the site.

There was still a draw to the Golden Ball, though, and in 1799 we find it hanging in Wing’s Lane, now Elm Street, for Nathan Winship. He was the son of Jonathan and was born in Cambridge. By 1790, he was living in Roxbury. He passed away in 1818, leaving behind a daughter named Lucy. He had sold the Golden Ball long before his death.

[Pg 86]In 1805, a building was put up in South Boston by Garrett Murphy. It was located on Fourth Street, between Dorchester Avenue and A Street, and he used the Golden Ball as his hotel sign for five years. Exactly a hundred years ago, in 1810, due to a lack of customers, it turned into a private home. Around 1840, the hotel reopened as the South Boston Hotel.

From South Boston, the Golden Ball rolled back to Elm Street, and in 1811 it hung at the entrance of Joseph Bradley’s Tavern. From this Golden Ball, stages to Quebec left on Mondays at four in the morning. They arrived in Concord, N.H., at seven in the evening. Leaving there at four Tuesday morning, they reached Hanover, N.H., at two in the afternoon, and after continuing on, they arrived in Haverhill, N.H., near Woodsville, at nine Wednesday evening.

The next appearance of the Golden Ball was on Congress Street, where at No. 13 was the new tavern of Thomas Murphy in 1816.

Henry Cabot, born in 1812, was a painter who started his business in 1833 at 2 Scollay’s Building. In 1835, he moved to Blackstone Street, where he had various addresses until 1858, when he relocated to North Street. He lived in Chelsea from 1846 until his death in 1875. This owner of the Golden Ball was primarily an ornamental sign and standard painter. His choice of a sign didn’t follow the traditions of his trade and didn’t match the painters’ arms of the London Guild Company, which had been placed on a building in Hanover Street by an earlier member of that craft. However, it was no worse[Pg 87] than a sign that some of us might remember swinging on Washington Street, near Dock Square, fifty years ago, “The Sign of the Dying Warrior, N. M. Phillips, Sign Painter.”

The Golden Ball was an old sign displayed in London by silk merchants and was used until the end of the eighteenth century. Mr. Cabot’s choice of where to begin his business was more fitting than his sign, as in the row of shops owned by the town, located on the west side of Scollay’s Building, had been the paint shop of Samuel, brother of Christopher Gore.

[Pg 88]

COFFEE URN USED IN THE GREEN DRAGON.

This fascinating artifact was donated to the Bostonian Society in 1915. It’s a coffee urn made of Sheffield ware, which used to be at the Green Dragon Tavern, a well-known meeting spot for the Revolution Patriots that stood on Union Street from 1697 to 1832. The urn is round in shape and sits on a base. Inside, there’s still a cylindrical piece of iron that, when heated, kept the delicious liquid inside the urn warm until it was enjoyed by the tavern's visitors. The site of the Green Dragon Tavern, now home to a business building, is owned by the St. Andrew’s Lodge of Free Masons of Boston. At a recent gathering of the Lodge on St. Andrew’s Day, the urn was displayed to the members present.

When the tavern's contents were sold, the urn was purchased by Mrs. Elizabeth Harrington, who ran a well-known boarding house on Pearl Street, in a building owned by the Quincy family. In 1847, the house was demolished and replaced by the Quincy Block, and Mrs. Harrington moved to High Street and then to Chauncey Place. Some of Boston's prominent men boarded with her for many years. Upon her passing, the urn was given to her daughter, Mrs. John R. Bradford, and it has now been donated to the Society by Miss Phebe C. Bradford of Boston, the granddaughter of Mrs. Elizabeth Harrington.

MAP SHOWING LOCATION OF COLE’S INN, WHICH HAS BEEN CONFUSED WITH HANCOCK TAVERN
Dotted lines indicate the current Williams Court (Pie Alley)

[Pg 89]

THE HANCOCK TAVERN.

“As an old landmark, the Hancock Tavern is a failure. There wasn’t an old window in the place; the nails were Bridgewater nails, the timbers were sawed at a mill, and the front was made of face brick, which hadn’t even been made in 1800. At the time of the Revolution, it was just a four-room house with twelve windows, and it first received an inn license in 1790. The building that was recently torn down was built between 1807 and 1812.”

With the above words, Edward W. McGlenen, the city registrar, effectively settled the question on June 3, 1903, at a meeting of the New England Historic Genealogical Society, regarding the widely believed report that it was in the Hancock Tavern, which stood for many years on Corn Court, where the members of the Boston Tea Party met, dressed as Indians, and from there went to Griffin’s Wharf, where they dumped the hated tea overboard.

It was a special meeting of the society called to hear the report from a special committee appointed “to look into the circumstances surrounding the planning and execution of what is known as the Boston Tea Party.” This committee was made[Pg 90] up of individuals who had studied this topic for years, and the findings of their research are both interesting and conclusive. William C. Bates served as chairman, with his associates including Edward W. McGlenen, the Rev. Anson Titus, William T. Eustis, and Herbert G. Briggs. Many society members attended, and Marshall P. Wilder Hall was well filled.

William C. Bates, as the chair of the special committee, talked about the efforts he and his colleagues made to avoid repeating what historians have already covered. He mentioned that the meeting spots for the “Mohawks” are somewhat known, as over half a dozen members have shared the stories of where they gathered and got dressed up. The four Bradlees met at their sister’s house at the corner of Hollis and Tremont streets; Joseph Brewer and others gathered at the foot of Summer Street; John Crane was in a carpenter shop on Tremont Street across from Hollis; Joseph Shedd hosted a small group at his house on Milk Street, where the Equitable Building now stands; and James Swan was at his boarding house on Hanover Street. According to descendants’ testimonies up to at least 1850, there was no reference to the Hancock Tavern. The origins of the Tea Party and who initially proposed it are topics of much debate. Many attendees were part of St. Andrew’s Lodge of Masons, which owned the Green Dragon Inn, and the lodge records indicate that the meeting on the night of the Tea Party had to be postponed due to a lack of attendance, “since public matters were more important.”

SHEFFIELD PLATE URN
Used in the Green Dragon Tavern, now owned by the Bostonian Society

[Pg 91]It's not surprising that so much secrecy has been kept due to the risk of lawsuits from the East India Company and others. The members of St. Andrew's Lodge were all young, many under twenty, and most were under thirty.

Mr. McGlenen's report on his investigations was particularly interesting, as it resolved three distinct questions that had been unresolved for many years—the location of Samuel Cole's inn, the location of his residence, and the widely debated issue of whether the "Mohawks" gathered at the Hancock Tavern to take the preliminary steps for the Boston Tea Party.

All three questions were based on a statement printed in the souvenir of the Hancock Tavern, which read as follows:

The apparent authority behind these claims and others that link them to pre-revolutionary events, according to Mr. McGlenen, can be found in Rambles in Old Boston by Rev. E. G. Porter, on pages 67 and 68. This work seems to rely on a newspaper article by William Brazier Duggan, M.D., published in the Quincy Patriot on August[Pg 92] 28, 1852, and a novel called The Brigantine by someone named Ingraham, which refers to local legends. None of these claims can be verified. The confusion stems from a statement made many years ago and later included as a note in the Book of Possessions, Vol. II, Boston Town Records, suggesting that Samuel Cole operated an inn near the waterfront. However, Letchford’s Note Book, the Town Records, and the Suffolk Deeds demonstrate the opposite.

Samuel Cole’s Inn was managed by him from 1634 to 1638, when he sold it under the orders of the Colony Court. He bought a house near the town dock seven years later. It was next to the Hancock Tavern lot and was bordered on the west by the lot that Isaac Gross originally owned, whose son Clement ran the Three Mariners, a bar that was located west of Pierse’s Alley (Change Avenue) and east of the Sun Tavern.

It’s impossible to link the Hancock Tavern to any pre-Revolutionary events. It was a small building, as noted in the Direct Tax of 1798, consisting of two stories with two rooms on each floor, made of wood, and had twelve windows, valued at $1200. It received its first license in 1790, and the earliest printed mention found is in an advertisement for the sale of lemons by John Duggan in the Columbian Centinel in 1794.

As for Cole’s Inn, records from the Massachusetts Bay Colony Court indicate that Samuel Cole operated the first inn or ordinary in Boston. In 1638, the court allowed him to sell his house to operate as an inn. He sold it to [Pg 93] Robert Sedgwick of Charlestown, as noted in Letchford’s Note Book. The town records show that in 1638, Edward Hutchinson, Samuel Cole, Robert Turner, Richard Hutchinson, William Parker, and Richard Brackett were instructed to create a cartway near Mr. Hutchinson’s house, which confirms Samuel Cole's location on the old highway leading to Roxbury, namely Washington Street (Town Records, Vol. II, Rec. Com. Report, p. 38).

The Book of Possessions reports that Valentine Hill owned a house and garden bordered by the street to the east, a meeting house and Richard Truesdale to the north, Capt. Robert Sedgwick to the south, and the prison yard to the west.

Major Robert Sedgwick's house and garden were bordered by Thomas Clarke, Robert Turner, and the street to the east, Mr. Hutchinson to the south, Valentine Hill to the north, and Henry Messinger to the west.

Valentine Hill granted, March 20, 1645, to William Davies, his house and garden bordered on the south by the tavern currently owned by James Pen (Suffolk Deeds, Vol. I, p. 60). This is likely Cole’s Inn, which was then owned by Robert Sedgwick and occupied by James Pen.

The issue of Cole’s residence was quickly resolved by Mr. McGlenen when he referenced deeds indicating that in 1645, Valentine Hill sold a plot of land near the town dock to Samuel Cole. Samuel Cole passed away in 1666, and in his will, he bequeathed his house and land to his daughter Elizabeth and son John. This property sits at the intersection of Change Avenue and Faneuil Hall Square,[Pg 94] and is currently being used by W. W. Rawson as a seed store.

The Hancock Tavern is a unique piece of property. Mr. McGlenen read from deeds that showed the land was initially owned by John Kenerick of Boston, a farmer, and was first sold to Robert Brecke of Dorchester, a merchant, on January 8, 1652. It was then sold to Thomas Watkins of Boston, a tobacco maker, in 1653; from him to James Green of Boston, a cooper, in 1679; then to Samuel Green of Boston, also a cooper, in 1712; and he passed it on to his sons and daughter in 1750.

The eastern part of the original lot (the one located east of where the Hancock Tavern, just torn down, was situated) was sold by Samuel Green’s heirs to Thomas Handasyd Peck in 1759. The Hancock Tavern lot itself was then sold to merchant Thomas Bromfield in February 1760. The deed states: “A certain dwelling house, with the land whereon the same doth stand.” Bromfield sold it in 1763 to Joseph Jackson of Boston, who owned it during the Revolution, and sold it on August 19, 1779, to Morris Keith, a trader from Boston. Morris Keith, or Keefe, passed away in April 1783 at the age of 62, leaving behind a widow and two children, Thomas and Mary. The son died in 1784, the widow in 1785, leaving their daughter Mary to inherit the property. The inventory lists Morris Keefe as a lemon dealer, and the house and land in Corn Court as valued at £260.

Mary Keefe married John Duggan on May 24, 1789, and in 1790 John Duggan received a license to sell liquor at his house on Corn Court. This is the[Pg 95] earliest record of a license being granted to the Hancock Tavern, as it was called. Mary Duggan transferred the property to her husband in January 1795, just a few weeks before she died. In 1796, John Duggan married Mary Hopkins. He passed away on April 21, 1802, leaving behind three children—Michael, born in 1797; William, born in 1799; and John Adams, born in 1802. Mary (Hopkins) Duggan then married William Brazier in 1803. He died ten years later.

The record commissioners’ reports, No. 22, page 290, show the following inventory for 1798:

Duggan’s ad in the Columbian Centinel from October 11, 1794, says:

His address in the Boston Directory for 1796 is: “John Duggan, lemon dealer, Corn court, S. side market.”

In 1795, Duggan, referred to as an innkeeper, and his wife transferred this property to Daniel English, who, on the same day, transferred it back to John so that he could have a clear title.

“From these investigations,” said Mr. McGlenen, “I think it’s clear that as an old landmark the Hancock Tavern is a failure.”

[Pg 96]Rev. Anson Titus then shared his findings from personal investigations regarding the Tea Party itself. He stated that the only certainty is this—something significant occurred in Boston on the evening of December 16, 1773. Beyond this, making further statements is risky. Details of the event were not openly discussed due to the threat of prosecution and legal consequences. It was considered borderline treason against the King. It is clear that there was a large crowd of visitors in Boston that night from surrounding towns who had been tipped off about what to expect and came with a specific purpose. Secrecy was essential, and compliance was mandatory.

Mr. Titus referenced the Boston newspapers from that time and letters from Gov. Hutchinson, but he stated that it was impossible to find out the names of the actual members of the group. He mentioned that the “Mohawks were guys who knew the ships and the docks. It's widely accepted that they were Masons.”

“In conclusion, as we started,” he said, “in 1908, just like in 1822, not much is known about the actual people involved in the Boston Tea Party. The lifelong silence from those who knew the most about the event is truly commendable and patriotic. It was a risky move, even seen as treason, and long after America gained its independence, if any evidence that could hold up in court had been found, the East India Company or the Crown would have sought compensation from our young republic, which would have had to pay up. This event was[Pg 97] a pivotal moment in the history of American liberty, and we should all be grateful that there’s no evidence linking hardly anyone, the city of Boston, or the province to the Boston Tea Party.

[Pg 98]”

[Pg 99]

This list comes from Miss Thwing’s book Inhabitants and Estates of the Town of Boston, 1630-1800, held by the Massachusetts Historical Society. It also contains the sources for each statement and additional details. It doesn’t include many inns mentioned in advertisements in 18th-century newspapers, nor does it list many licensed innkeepers whose inns didn’t have a sign.

The Colony records say that in 1682, the number of people licensed in Boston to run taverns and sell beer shouldn’t exceed six wine taverns, ten innkeepers, and eight outdoor retailers for wine and hard liquor. In 1684, since this wasn’t enough to accommodate the residents, the county court granted licenses to five or six more public houses. In 1687, all licenses for public houses could only be given to individuals of good standing, who had suitable premises with at least two beds to host strangers and travelers. In Boston, approval from the Treasurer also had to be obtained. The details regarding the regulations for inns are provided in the records.

Admiral Vernon, see Vernon’s Head.

American Coffee Shop, see British Coffee Shop.

Anchor, also known as Blue Anchor, is located on the east side of Washington Street, between State and Water streets (the site of the Globe Building). In the Book of Possessions, Richard Fairbanks (innkeeper) owned a house and garden here. In 1646, he was granted a license to run a tavern, and in 1652, he sold his property to Robert Turner, who received his license in 1659, with his widow Penelope taking over in 1666. Their son John Turner inherited the property and was licensed in 1667. In 1680, George Monk, upon marrying Lucy, the widow of Turner, took over. Monk later married a second wife, Elizabeth Woodmancy, who succeeded him in 1691 and operated the inn until 1703, when she sold the property to James Pitts. In 1708, a nearby property was described as bounded on the house “formerly the Anchor Tavern.” After James Pitts, the owners included Benjamin Bagnal in 1724-25; William Speakman in 1745; Alice Quick in 1746, who left it to her nephew Thomas Knight in 1761; and Mary Knight owned it in 1798.

Bair, Washington Street, between Dock Square and Milk Street. In 1722, Elizabeth Davis was granted a license for the Bair in Cornhill. Since she owned the Bear at the Dock, this might have been an error.

Bear, check out Three Mariners.

Baker’s Arms, in 1673 the home of John Gill was on the southwest corner of Hanover and Union streets, “near the Baker’s Arms.” This might have been the name of the Star Tavern or the Green Dragon at that time.

Baulston. William Baulston was granted land in 1636-37 on the west side of Washington Street, between Dock Square and Court Street. In June 1637, he was authorized to run a tavern. In 1638, he sold the property to Thomas Cornewell, who was then given permission to operate an inn in place of William Baulston. In 1639-40, Edward Tyng purchased the property.

Bite, see Three Mariners.

Black Horse, Prince Street. It's often said that the original name of Prince Street came from a tavern of that name, but so far no records of such a tavern have been found. Black Horse Lane was first mentioned in 1684.

Black and White Horse, location not mentioned. In 1767, Robert Sylvester was granted a license.

Blue Anchor, Washington Street, see Anchor.

Blue Anchor, in 1760, “the land where the Blue Anchor used to be before the fire close to Oliver’s Dock.”

Blue Anchor, location not specified. In 1767, a man stayed at the Blue Anchor.

Blue Bell, on the west side of Union Street, between Hanover and North streets. In 1663, John Button sold his house, known as the Blue Bell, to Edmund Jacklin.

Blue Bell, on the southwest corner of Battery March and Water streets. The land where this tavern was located used to be a marsh that the town leased to Capt. James Johnson in 1656, who agreed to pay an annual fee to the school of Boston. Johnson transferred part of this land to Thomas Hull. Although this deed isn't recorded, in 1674, the deed from Richard Woodde to John Dafforne mentioned the western boundaries as being partly on land that now belongs to Deacon Allen and Hugh Drury, which was previously owned by Thomas Hull, where the house called the Blue Bell stood. In 1673, the house was rented to Nathaniel Bishop. In the inventory of Hugh Drury's estate in 1689, his share is noted as one half of the house where Mr. Wheeler lived, along with a cooper's shop. In the division of his estate in 1692, half of the house and land commonly known as the Castle Tavern was assigned to his grandson Thomas Drury, which was owned in partnership with Henry Allen. When Allen's estate was divided in 1703, the house and land were allotted to his widow Judith. In 1707, Judith Allen and [Pg 102] Thomas Drury divided the property, with the western half going to Judith Allen and the eastern half to Drury. Judith Allen passed away in 1722, and in 1723, her son Henry sold the western part of the estate, which included a dwelling house, land, and a cooper's shop, to Robert Williams. Williams then deeded it to his son Robert Williams, and the estate remained within the family for many years.

Brazen Head, on the east side of Washington Street, between State and Water streets. On January 2, 1757, a soldier contracted smallpox at widow Jackson’s at the Brazen Head. On March 20, 1760, a major fire broke out here. Mrs. Jackson did not own the property but leased the space.

Brewers’ Arms, on the east side of Washington Street, located between Bedford and Essex streets. In 1696, Sarah, the widow of Samuel Walker, mortgages the property known as the Brewers’ Arms, which is managed by Daniel Elton (innkeeper).

British Coffee-House, on the north side of State Street, between Change Avenue and Merchants’ Row. In the Book of Possessions, James Oliver owned this property. Elisha Cooke takes legal action against Oliver and sells it to Nicholas Moorcock in 1699. Moorcock then transfers it to Charles Burnham in 1717, whose heirs pass it on to Jonathan Badger in 1773. Badger sells “The British Coffee-House” to Hannah Cordis in 1775. In 1780, Badger's heirs confirm the transfer of “The American Coffee-House” to Joseph Cordis, who sells it to the Massachusetts Bank in 1792. Cord Cordis was the innkeeper in 1771, and John Bryant was licensed in 1790. By 1798, this was a three-story brick building with twenty-six windows, valued at $12,000.

Bromfield House, Bromfield Street, see Indian Queen.

BROMFIELD HOUSE ON THE SITE OF THE “INDIAN QUEEN”
36-38 Bromfield Street

Bull, at the foot of Summer Street. In the Book of Possessions, Nicholas Baxter had a house and garden here. In 1668, he transferred this to John Bull and his wife Mary, the daughter of [Pg 103], his wife Margaret. Baxter died in 1692, and in his will, he mentions this deed and splits his personal property between his daughter Mary, who is married to John Swett, and John and Mary Bull. In 1694 and 1704, Mary Swett tried to reclaim the estate, but each time, Bull won his case. John Bull died in 1723, and in 1724, his son Jonathan purchased the shares of the other heirs. Jonathan died while visiting England in 1727 or 1728, and his will, probated in 1728-29, allocates one third of his estate to his wife and two thirds to his children, Elizabeth, John, and Samuel. Both sons died before reaching adulthood, and Elizabeth inherited their shares. She married Rev. Roger Price, and they moved to England. She died in 1780, and in 1783, her oldest son and daughter returned to Boston to recover the property which Barret Dyer, who married Elizabeth, the widow of John Bull, had tried to reclaim. John Bull was licensed as an innkeeper from 1689 to 1713, when his widow Mary took over. In 1757, Mr. Bean was the landlord, and in 1766, the house was rented to Benjamin Bigelow. By 1798, William Price was the owner and Bethia Page was the occupant. It was a wooden two-story house with thirty-one windows, valued at $2000. The site is currently occupied by the South Station.

Bunch of Grapes, southeast corner of State and Kilby streets. Originally owned by William Davis, who sold it to William Ingram in 1658. Ingram transferred “The Bunch of Grapes” to John Holbrook in 1680; the administration of Holbrook went to Thomas Waite in 1731; Waite sold to Simon Eliot in 1760; Eliot transferred it to Leonard Jarvis in 1769; Jarvis sold it to Joseph Rotch, Jr., in 1772; Francis Rotch sold to Elisha Doane in 1773; his heirs passed it on to Isaiah Doane in 1786. By 1798, it was a brick store. On June 7, 1709, Francis Holmes was the keeper and was required to accommodate five soldiers at his public house. In 1750, it was run by Weatherhead, who was noted by Goelet as the best punch house in Boston. In 1757, one captain and one[Pg 104] private soldier were to be billeted at Weatherhead’s. From 1764 to 1772, it was licensed to Joseph Ingersol. In 1790, Dudley Colman was licensed. In the same year, James Bowdoin bequeathed the house known as “The Bunch of Grapes” to his wife. This was located on the west corner of Kilby and State streets.

Castle, at the west corner of Dock Square and Elm Street. In the Book of Possessions, William Hudson, Jr. owned a house and garden here. On May 20, 1654, a street leading from the Castle Tavern is mentioned (Elm Street). Hudson sold off parts of his property, and in 1674 he transferred to John Wing the house, buildings, etc., commonly known as Castle Tavern. In 1677, Wing mortgaged to William Brown of Salem “all his newly built dwelling house, which is part of the building formerly known as the Castle Tavern.” The property was forfeited, and in 1694, Brown transferred to Benjamin Pemberton the mansion previously called the Castle Tavern, now known as the George Tavern, subject to Wing’s right of redemption. In his will from 1701-02, John Wing bequeaths to his son John Wing the housing and land near the head of the town dock that he purchased from Capt. William Hudson, along with the brick house, formerly called the George Tavern, which has an encumbrance of 1000 pounds owed to William Brown, now controlled by Benjamin Pemberton. In 1708, Wing transferred the estate to Pemberton. In 1710, Pemberton's heirs conveyed it to Jonathan Waldo, and the following owners were: Thomas Flucker in 1760; in the same year it went to Isaac Winslow and Moses Gill; Gill sold to Caleb Loring in 1768; then Nathaniel Frazier in 1771; David Sears in 1787; William Burgess in 1790; Nathaniel Frazier again in 1792; and John and Jonathan Amory in 1793. In 1798, Colonel Brewer was the resident. A brick house, two stories, twelve windows, worth $4000.

Castle, Battery March and Water streets, see Blue Bell.

FIREMAN’S TICKET NOTIFYING OF MEETING AT COLEMAN’S (Bunch of Grapes)

Castle, northeast corner of North and Fleet streets. [Pg 105] Initially owned by Thomas Savage, who later transfers it to John Crabtree. In 1654, Crabtree sells it to Bartholomew Barnard. Barnard sells it to Edward Cock in 1672-73; Cock then sells it to Margaret Thatcher, who transfers it to William Colman in 1679. Colman sells to William Everden in 1694-95, who mortgages it to Francis Holmes. Holmes transfers it to John Wentworth in 1708. In 1717, John Wentworth transfers it to Thomas Lee, who owns the building known as the “Castle Tavern,” occupied by Sarah Hunt. In 1768, Thomas Love and his wife Deborah (Lee) deed the “Castle Tavern” to Andrew Newell, and that same year, Newell sells it to Joseph Lee. In 1785, Joseph Lee conveys it to Joseph Austin, who owns and occupies it by 1798. The house has three and two stories, twenty-five windows, valued at $3000.

Castle, location not specified. In 1721, Adrian, the widow of John Cunningham, was granted a license at the Castle, and in 1722, Mary English received the same.

Cole, Samuel Cole’s inn, located on the west side of Washington Street at the corner of Williams Court, the former site of Thompson’s Spa. In 1633-34, Samuel Cole established the first place for public entertainment. By 1635, he was granted a license to operate an ordinary, and in 1637-38, he received permission to sell his establishment as an inn to Robert Sedgwick. In 1646, James Penn was licensed here. Lt. William Phillips took ownership of the property, and in 1656-57, he mortgaged “The Ship Tavern.” He transferred it to Capt. Thomas Savage in 1660. Subsequent owners included Ephraim Savage, 1677-78; Zachariah Trescott, 1712; Nicholas Bouve, 1715; John Comrin, 1742; Jonathan Mason, 1742; and James Lloyd, 1763, who kept it in his family for many years.

Concert Hall, south corner of Hanover and Court streets. In the Book of Possessions, Jeremiah Houchin owned a house and garden here. His widow sold it to Thomas Snawsell in 1670, and Snawsell sold it to John Russell in 1671;[Pg 106] Eleazar Russell sold to John Gardner and Priscilla Hunt in 1689-90; the heirs of Gardner sold to Gilbert and Lewis Deblois in 1749; Deblois sold to Stephen Deblois in 1754, and he sold it to William Turner in 1769; Turner transferred it to John and Jonathan Amory in 1789. In 1798, John Amory was the owner and James Villa was the occupant. It was a brick house with three stories and thirty windows, valued at $3000. Villa had been a tenant and had a license to operate as an innkeeper for several years. Before it became a tavern, the hall was used for various purposes—meetings, musical concerts, and by the Grand Masons.

Cromwell’s Head or Sign of Oliver Cromwell, on the north side of School Street. In the Book of Possessions, Richard Hutchinson owned land here. Abraham Brown acquired it before 1658; Sarah (Brown) Rogers inherited it in 1689-90, and in 1692, Gamaliel Rogers sold it to Duncan McFarland; Mary (McFarland) Perkins inherited it, and John Perkins transferred it to Joseph Maylem in 1714; John Maylem inherited it in 1733, and the next owner was Elizabeth (Maylem) Bracket, who was married to Anthony Bracket. In 1764, Elizabeth Bracket was licensed to operate at her house on School Street, and Joshua Bracket received a license in 1768. In 1796, Abigail Bracket sold it to John Warren, who was the owner in 1798, with Henry Vose as the occupier. It's a wooden house with three stories and thirty windows, valued at $6000.

Crown Coffee-House, on the north side of State Street, was the first building on Long Wharf (the site of the Fidelity Trust Co. building). Jonathan Belcher owned Long Wharf, which was extended from State Street in 1710. In 1749, his son Andrew Belcher transferred ownership of “The Crown Coffee-House” to Richard Smith, who sold it to Robert Shellcock in 1751, and then Shellcock's administrator passed it to Benjamin Brown in 1788. By 1798, stores were built on the site. In 1714, Thomas Selby was licensed as an innkeeper at the Crown [Pg 107]Coffee-House, and he passed away there in 1727. In 1729, William Burgess received a license, followed by Edward Lutwych in 1730 and 1733; Rebecca Coffin in 1762; Richard Bradford in 1766; and again, Rebecca Coffin in 1772.

Dolphin, east side of North Street, at the foot of Richmond Street. Nicholas Upshall owned the land in 1644. He transferred it to his son-in-law William Greenough in 1660. Henry Gibbs and his wife Mercy (Greenough) inherited it in 1694-95. In 1726-27, Henry Gibbs sold “The Dolphin Tavern” to Noah Champney. John Lowell and his wife Sarah (Champney) inherited it and transferred it to Neil McIntire in 1753, who then passed it on to Neil McIntire of Portsmouth in 1784, and he sold it to William Welsh in 1785, who then sold it to Prince Snow in 1798. In 1798, it was a two-story wooden house with eleven windows, valued at $600. The Dolphin Tavern is mentioned by Sewall in 1718. In 1726-27, Mercy Gibbs was licensed; in 1736, Alice Norwood; and in 1740, James Stevens.

Dove, Sign of the, northeast corner of Boylston and Tremont streets. In the Book of Possessions, Thomas Snow was the owner, and in 1667 he mortgaged his old house to which the Sign of the Dove is attached. William Wright and his wife Milcha (Snow) inherited it and in 1683 transferred it to Samuel Shrimpton, then the heirs of Shrimpton to Adam Colson in 1781, Colson to William Cunningham in 1787, Cunningham to Francis Amory in 1793, and Amory to Joseph Head in 1795.

Drum, Sign of the, location not specified. Mentioned in the Town Records in 1761 and 1776.

Exchange, northwest corner of State and Exchange streets. In 1646, Anthony Stoddard and John Leverett sold a house and land to Henry Shrimpton. His son Samuel inherited it in 1666, and in 1697-98, Samuel Shrimpton, Jr., inherited “the Exchange Tavern.” He took out a mortgage with Nicholas Roberts in 1703, and the administrators of Roberts[Pg 108] sold “the Royal Exchange Tavern” to Robert Stone in 1754. In 1784, Daniel Parker and his wife Sally (Stone) sold it to Benjamin Hitchbone. By 1798, Israel Hatch was living there. The property is a four-story brick house with thirty windows, valued at $12,000. In 1690-91, Judge Sewall mentioned the Exchange Tavern. In 1714, Rowland Dike applied for a license. In 1764, Seth Blodgett was licensed, followed by Mr. Stone in 1770, Daniel Jones in 1772, Benjamin Loring in 1776, John Bowers in 1788, and Israel Hatch in 1798.

Exchange Coffee-House, southeast corner of State and Devonshire streets. In the Book of Possessions, the land was owned by Robert Scott. The house was built in 1804 and burned down in 1818; it was rebuilt in 1822 and closed as a tavern in 1854.

Flower de Luce, on the west side of North Street, between Union and Cross streets. In 1675, Elizabeth, the widow of Edmund Jackson, mortgaged her house, called Flower de Luce, which Christopher Crow was renting.

George, on the west side of Washington Street, near the Roxbury line. The land was granted to James Penn by the town in 1644. In 1652, he gifted five acres to Margery, the widow of Jacob Eliot, for her children. In 1701, Eliezer Holyoke and his wife Mary (Eliot) transferred the property to Stephen Minot. In 1701-02, Minot requested a license to operate an inn or tavern at his house near the Roxbury gate, but this was denied. In 1707, the George Tavern was mentioned. Between 1708-09, Samuel Meeres applied to sell alcoholic drinks as an innkeeper at Stephen Minot's house, taking over from John Gibbs, who was about to give up his license, and in 1722-23, he was still running the inn there. In 1726, Simon Rogers received a license. In 1733, Stephen Minot, Jr. inherited the George Tavern, which was then occupied by Simon Rogers. In 1734-35, it was occupied by Andrew Haliburton. In 1768, Gideon Gardner was licensed. Stephen Minot, Jr. transferred the property to [Pg 109]Samuel and William Brown in 1738; William Brown then sold it to Aaron Willard in 1792. In 1770, Thomas Bracket was approved as an innkeeper in the establishment on the Neck known as the King’s Arms, which was formerly the George Tavern and had most recently been run by Mrs. Bowdine. On August 1, 1775, Timothy Newell noted in his diary that the George Tavern was burned by the Regulars.

THE EXCHANGE COFFEE HOUSE, 1808-1818 (Congress Square)

George, at the corner of Dock Square and Elm Street, check out Castle.

Globe, northeast corner of Commercial and Hanover streets. In the Book of Possessions, the estate of William Douglass. Eliphalet Hett and his wife Ann (Douglass) inherit; Nathaniel Parkman and his wife Hannah (Hett) inherit. In 1702, Hannah Parkman transfers the property to Edward Budd; Budd sells it to James Barnard in 1708. Barnard sells it to John Greenough in 1711. When the Greenough estate is divided, this property was allocated to William and Newman Greenough. Greenough sells it to Joseph Oliver in 1779. Oliver sells it to Henry H. Williams in 1788. The Globe Tavern is mentioned in the Town Records in 1741 and 1787.

Goat, location not specified; in 1737 noted in the inventory of Elisha Cooke.

Golden Ball, northwest corner of Merchants' Row and Corn Court. Edward Tyng was the first owner of the land, which Theodore Atkinson acquired before 1662 and then transferred to Henry Deering in 1690. In 1731, part of Deering’s estate included the house known as the “Golden Ball,” which was then occupied by Samuel Tyley. Mary (Deering) Wilson inherited it and left it to her niece Mary (Deering), who was married to John Gooch. In 1795, Benjamin Gerrish Gray and his wife Mary (Gooch) transferred ownership to James Tisdale for the house known as the Golden Ball Tavern. By 1798, the site was covered with stores. In 1711, Samuel Tyley applied for a renewal of his license after moving from the Salutation to Mr. Deering’s house on Merchants' Row. In 1757, it was run by John Marston.

[Pg 110]Grand Turk, Sign of, Washington Street, between Winter and Boylston. In 1789, Israel Hatch (innkeeper).

Green Dragon, on the west side of Union Street, north of Hanover. According to the Book of Possessions, James Johnson owned three-fourths of an acre on the mill pond. The next property that separated him from Hanover Street was owned by John Davis. In 1646, Johnson transferred ownership to Thomas Marshall, who then transferred it to Thomas Hawkins. In 1645, John Davis transferred ownership to John Trotman, whose wife Katherine, on the same day, conveyed it to Thomas Hawkins. In 1671, Hawkins mortgaged the property to Samson Sheafe, and in January 1671-02, the property was delivered to Sheafe. In 1672-03, Sheafe transferred part of the property to John Howlett (see Star Tavern), bounded northwest by William Stoughton. There is no recorded deed for Stoughton. Stoughton died in 1701, and this estate passed to his granddaughter Mehitable, who was married to Capt. Thomas Cooper. She later married Peter Sargent and Simeon Stoddard. In 1743, her son Rev. William Cooper transferred the brick dwelling called the Green Dragon Tavern to Dr. William Douglass. Upon the division of Douglass's estate, it went to his sister Catherine Kerr, who in 1765 transferred it to St. Andrews Lodge of Free Masons. In 1798, it was described as a three-story brick dwelling with thirty-nine windows and a stable, valued at $3000. In 1714, William Patten, formerly of Charlestown, petitioned to sell alcohol as an innkeeper at the Green Dragon, replacing Richard Pullen, who had quit his license there.

Gutteridge Coffee-House, on the north side of State Street, between Washington and Exchange streets. Robert Gutteridge was a tenant of Hezekiah Usher in 1688 and got his license in 1691. In 1718, Mary Gutteridge requested the renewal of her late husband’s license to operate a public coffee-house.

EXCHANGE COFFEE-HOUSE, 1848
From State Street, looking south down Congress Square

[Pg 111]Half Moon, on the southwest side of Portland Street. Henry Pease owned the land in the Book of Possessions. He transferred it to Thomas Matson in 1648, and then Joshua Matson sold it to Edward Cricke in 1685. In 1705, his widow, Deborah Cricke, transferred it to Thomas Gwin for the house commonly called “The Half Moon.” In 1713, Gwin sold it to William Clarke. Sarah (Clarke) Kilby’s children inherited it and transferred it to John Bradford in 1760. His heirs were the owners in 1798. It’s a two-story brick house with thirty-nine windows, valued at $4,000.

Hancock, Corn Court. This property was bought by John Kendric, who sold it to Robert Breck in 1652-53. Later owners included Thomas Watkins in 1653, James Green in 1659, Samuel Green in 1712, Thomas Bromfield in 1760, and Joseph Jackson in 1763. Jackson transferred ownership to Morris Keefe in 1779, whose daughter Mary, the wife of John Duggan, inherited it in 1795. In 1798, it was a two-story wooden house with twelve windows, valued at $1200.

Hatch, on the east side of Tremont Street, between West and Boylston streets. The land was granted by the town to Richard Bellingham in 1665. Martin Sanders buys it and transfers it to Æneas Salter, who then sells it to Sampson Sheaf in 1677. Jacob Sheaf passes it to Abiah Holbrook in 1753. The administrator of Rebecca Holbrook transfers it to Israel Hatch in 1794. In 1796, Israel Hatch is noted as an innkeeper.

Hawk, Summer Street. Mentioned in the Town Records in 1740.

Horse Shoe, on the east side of Tremont Street, between School and Bromfield streets. In the Book of Possessions, this land was owned by Zaccheus Bosworth. His daughter Elizabeth and her husband John Morse sold it to John Evered, also known as Webb, in 1660; Webb then sold it to William Pollard in 1663. John Pollard transferred ownership to Jonathan Pollard in 1722 for the “Horse Shoe Tavern.” In 1782, Pollard's heirs[Pg 112] sold it to George Hamblin, who was living there in 1798. It was a two-story wooden house with eleven windows, valued at $1500. In 1738, Alex Cochran was granted a license here.

Indian Queen, later Bromfield House, on the south side of Bromfield Street. It was owned by William Aspinwall, who transferred the land to John Angier in 1652. That same year, it changed hands to Sampson Shore and Theodore Atkinson; Atkinson sold it to Edward Rawson in 1653-54; Rawson transferred it to Robert Noaxe in 1672; Noaxe sold it to Joseph Whitney in 1675; Whitney passed it on to Edward Bromfield in 1684; Edward Bromfield, Jr. conveyed it to Benjamin Kent in 1748; the executor of Kent sold it to Henry Newman in 1760; Newman transferred it to John Ballard in 1782. By 1798, it was occupied by Abel Wheelock, Trask, and Brown. It's a two-story brick and wooden house with thirty-four windows, valued at $4500, which includes a stable.

Julien Restorator, northwest corner of Milk and Congress streets. In the Book of Possessions, John Spoor had a house and one acre here, which he mortgaged to Nicholas Willis in 1648. In 1648-49, Henry Bridgham sold a house on Washington Street to John Spoor, so they might have exchanged lots. By 1655, Bridgham was the owner. He passed away in 1681, and his widow died in 1672. In 1680, his estate was divided among his three sons. John, the eldest, settled in Ipswich, inherited the new house, which included the west portion. In 1719, he deeded his share to his nephew Joseph Bridgham, who, in 1734-35, transferred it to Francis Borland, measuring 106 ft. on Milk Street. Borland also purchased a strip from James Dalton in 1763, adding to the entire length of the lot, which was shortened by the creation of Dalton’s Lane (Congress Street). Francis Borland died in 1763 and left the Milk Street estate to his son Francis Lindall Borland, who was absent and presumed dead. Jane Borland married John Still Winthrop, and in 1765 the estate was divided among [Pg 113] the Winthrop children. These heirs transferred the Congress Street corner to Thomas Clement in 1787, and in 1794 he sold it to Jean Baptiste Gilbert Payplat dis Julien (restorator). Julien died in 1806, and his heirs transferred it in 1823 to the Commercial Co. The house was demolished in 1824. In 1798, it was a wooden building, three stories tall, with eighteen windows, valued at $6000.

VIEW OF TREMONT STREET, SHOWING THE “HATCH TAVERN” IN FRONT OF THE “HAYMARKET THEATRE”
From an original painting by Robertson, now in the Boston Public Library

King’s Arms, on the west side of Washington Street, between Brattle and Court streets. Almost the entire original lot was taken for the expansion of Washington Street, and the exact location is now gone. It was one of the properties at the head of the Dock. In the Book of Possessions, it was owned by Hugh Gunnison, who was licensed in 1646 to operate a tavern. On October 28, 1650, he mortgaged the estate known as the King’s Arms, and in 1651, he transferred it to John Samson, Henry Shrimpton, and William Brenton (see Suff. Deeds, Lib. 1, fol. 135, which has an interesting and complete inventory). Henry Shrimpton took possession of the entire property, and in his will of 1666, he left to his daughter Sarah Shrimpton “the house previously called the States Arms.” In 1668-69, Eliakim Hutchinson, upon marrying Sarah Shrimpton, put the estate in trust for his wife, “previously known as the King’s Arms.” He also expanded the estate by purchasing adjacent land from the William Tyng and Thomas Brattle estates. According to the will of Eliakim Hutchinson in 1718, and that of his wife in 1720, the entire estate went to their son William Hutchinson, who in 1721 bequeathed it to his son Eliakim Hutchinson. Eliakim further enlarged the estate. He was a Loyalist, and his property was seized. In 1782, the government transferred part of it to Thomas Green and the rest to John Lucas and Edward Tuckerman.

King’s Arms, on the west side of North Street, between Sun Court and Fleet Street. The property of Thomas Clarke in the [Pg 114] Book of Possessions, which he sold to Launcelot Baker in 1648, and Baker sold to George Halsey in 1648, then the trustees of Halsey sold it to Evan Thomas in 1656, “The King’s Arms.” In 1680, his widow, Alice Thomas, mortgaged the house that was formerly known as the King’s Arms, and she sold it in 1698 to Joseph Bill.

King’s Arms, on the Neck, see George.

King’s Head, at the northeast corner of North and Fleet streets, see Castle.

Lamb and White Lamb, located on the west side of Washington Street, between West and Boylston streets, stands on the site of the Adams House. This was originally Richard Brocket's lot, which he transferred to Jacob Leger in 1638. Ann Leger, his widow, then sold it to John Blake in 1664; Blake passed it on to Edward Durant in 1694; Durant sold the southern part to Jonathan Waldo in 1713-14; Jonathan Waldo, Jr., transferred it to Samuel Cookson in 1780; and Cookson sold it to Joel Crosby in 1795. By 1798, Joel Crosby was the owner and maintaining the Lamb Tavern, a two-story wooden building with twenty-four windows, valued at $4,200. It was noted in the Town Records in 1738, and Augustus Moor received a license there in 1782.

Lighthouse, 1766, mentioned in the Town Records. It wasn't far from the Old North Meeting House.

Lion, Sign of, Washington Street, between Winter and Boylston streets. 1796 Henry Vose (innkeeper).

Logwood Tree, Sign of, on the south side of Commercial Street, between Hanover and North streets. The lot originally owned by John Seabury in the Book of Possessions, which he transferred to Alex Adams in 1645, Adams to Nathaniel Fryer in 1653-54, and Fryer to John Scarlet in 1671. Scarlet sold it to Joseph Parminter in 1671-72. In 1734-35, Hannah Emmes, Parminter's sister, transferred the house known as the “Sign of the Logwood Tree” to John Read; Read sold it to Thomas Bently in 1744, and Bently transferred it to Joshua Bently in 1756. In 1798 it was [Pg 115]occupied by Captain Caswell. It was a wooden house, two stories high, with fourteen windows, valued at $1000. Mentioned in the Town Records in 1732. See also Queen’s Head.

THE LAMB TAVERN (The Adams House Site)

Marlborough Arms and Marlborough Head, on the south side of State Street, east of Kilby Street. In 1640, William Hudson got permission to run a tavern. His son transferred this to Francis Smith in 1648, and Smith passed it on to John Holland. Judith Holland transferred it to Thomas Peck in 1656; Thomas Peck, Jr., to James Gibson in 1711. In 1722, Mary Gibson deeded it to her children as the “house named Marlborough next the Grapes.” James Gibson sold it to Roger Passmore in 1741; Passmore sold it to Simon Eliot in 1759; Eliot sold it to Leonard in 1760; Jarvis sold it to Benjamin Parker in 1766; John Erving acquired it and deeded it to William Stackpole in 1784. By 1798, it had been converted into a brick store. Elisha Odling was licensed in 1720, Sarah Wormal in 1721, and Elizabeth Smith in 1722.

Mitre, on the east side of North Street, at the beginning of Hancock Wharf (Lewis Wharf), between Sun Court and Fleet Street. The property of Samuel Cole in the Book of Possessions, which he transferred to George Halsey in 1645; Halsey to Nathaniel Patten, 1654; Patten to Robert Cox, 1681; Cox to John Kind, 1683-84; Jane Kind to Thomas Clarke (pewterer), 1705-06; Clarke to John Jeffries, 1730. His nephew David Jeffries inherited in 1778, from whom it passed to Joseph Eckley and his wife Sarah (Jeffries). In 1782, the heirs of John Jeffries owned the house “formerly the Mitre Tavern.” By 1798, the house had been demolished.

Noah’s Ark, southwest corner of North and Clarke streets. Originally owned by Capt. Thomas Hawkins. He was lost at sea, and his widow remarried (2) John Fenn and (3) Henry Shrimpton. In 1657, William Phillips transfers the house known as Noah’s Ark, which belonged to her first husband Thomas Hawkins, to Mary Fenn. Her son-in-law John Aylett had mortgaged it to William Hudson, by[Pg 116] whom it was sold to William Phillips. In 1657, Mary Fenn transfers it to George Mountjoy, and in 1663, Mountjoy transfers it to John Vial. In 1695, Vial conveys it to Thomas Hutchinson. By 1713, the house was known as Ship Tavern, previously Noah’s Ark, located both above and below the street named Ship Street.

North Coffee-House, North Street. Dec. 12, 1702, Edward Morrell was granted a license.

North End Coffee-House, located on the northwest side of North Street, between Sun Court and Fleet Street. The property belonged to Capt. Thomas Clarke, as recorded in the Book of Possessions. Elisha Hutchinson and his wife Elizabeth (Clarke) inherited it. Edward Hutchinson transferred it to Thomas Savage in 1758. John Savage inherited it and then deeded it to Joseph Tahon in 1781. Tahon sold it to Robert Wier in 1786, and Wier passed it on to John May in 1795, naming it the “North End Coffee-House.” In 1782, Capt. David Porter was granted a license to run a tavern at the North End Coffee-House. By 1798, John May was the owner and resident. It was a three-story brick building with forty-five windows, valued at $4500.

Orange Tree, northeast corner of Hanover and Court streets. The land was initially granted to Edmund Jackson, then acquired by Thomas Leader before 1651, and his heirs sold it to Bozoon Allen in 1678. Allen transferred ownership in 1700 to Francis Cook of “the Orange Tree Inn.” Benjamin Morse and his wife Frances (Cook) became the inheritors. John Tyng and his wife Mary (Morse), who was the daughter of Benjamin, inherited it next. In 1785 and 1798, John Marshall and other heirs of Tyng owned it when it was unoccupied. It was a wooden house, three stories tall, with fifty-three windows, valued at $4,000. In 1712, Jonathan Wardell, who had married Frances (Cook), the widow of Benjamin Morse, received a license, and from 1724 to 1746, Mrs. Wardell held a license as well.

Peacock, on the west side of North Street, between Board Alley and Cross Street, was originally part of Sampson Shore's estate, who sold it to Edwin Goodwin in 1648, and he passed it on to[Pg 117] Nathaniel Adams. In 1707-08, Joseph and other children of Nathaniel Adams transferred ownership of a house and land near the Turkey or Peacock to Thomas Harris. In 1705, Elihu Warden owned a shop across from the Peacock Tavern. On September 26, 1709, Thomas Lee requested permission to operate a tavern at a rented property that used to be called the Sign of the Turkie Cock.

Peggy Moore’s Boarding House, at the southwest corner of Washington and Boylston streets. Located on the original property of Jacob Eliot. His daughter Hannah Frary inherits it, then Abigail (Frary) Arnold inherits it, and later Hannah (Arnold), wife of Samuel Welles. In 1798, Samuel Welles was the owner, along with Mrs. Brown and Peggy Moore as the residents. It’s a two-story wooden house with seventy-one windows, valued at $10,000.

Pine Tree, Dock Square. In 1785, Captain Benjamin Gorham received a license for Dock Square, at the building known as the Pine Tree Tavern. Gorham purchased a house in 1782 from John Steel Tyler and his wife Mary (Whitman), located on the northwest side of North Street, between Cross Street and Scott Alley, which he sold in 1786 to John Hinckley.

Punch Bowl, Sign of the, Dock Square. 1789 Mrs. Baker (innkeeper).

Queen’s Head, Fleet Street. April 19, 1728, Anthony Young requests to transfer his license from the Salutation in Ship Street to the Sign of the Swan in Fleet Street, and establish the Sign of the Queen’s Head there. Nov. 28, 1732, Joseph Pearse requests to transfer his license from his current residence, the Sign of the Logwood Tree in Lynn Street, to the house near Scarlett’s Wharf at the Sign of the Queen’s Head, where Anthony Young previously lived.

Red Cross, at the southwest corner of North and Cross streets. In 1746, John Osborn (innkeeper) purchased land from Tolman Farr, who inherited it from Barnabas Fawer, who[Pg 118] obtained it from Valentine Hill in 1646. Osborn's children sold it in 1756 to Ichabod Jones, whose son John Coffin Jones inherited it.

Red Lyon, at the northeast corner of North and Richmond streets. Nicholas Upshall owned it in 1644. On November 9, 1654, Francis Brown’s house was close to the Red Lyon. In 1666, Joseph Cock and his wife Susannah (Upshall) inherited half of it, and in 1693-94, Edward Proctor and his wife Elizabeth (Cock) inherited the other half of the Red Lyon Inn. John Proctor transferred his interest to Edward Proctor in 1770, Proctor sold it to Charles Ryan in 1790, Ryan transferred it to Thomas Kast in 1791, and Kast sold it to Reuben Carver in 1794. By 1798, William T. Clapp was the occupant. It was a brick and wooden building, three and two stories high, with twenty-four windows, valued at $2500. In 1763, it was mentioned in the Town Records.

Red Lyon, Washington Street, see Lion. 1798 James Clark (innkeeper).

Rising Sun, Washington Street, between School and Winter streets. 1800 Luther Emes (innkeeper).

Roebuck, on the east side of Merchants’ Row (Swing Bridge Lane) was a land grant to Leonard Buttles in 1648-49. He sold it to Richard Staines in 1655, whose widow, Joyce Hall, transferred it to Thomas Winsor in 1691; Winsor then mortgaged it to Giles Dyer in 1706, who subsequently transferred it to Thomas Loring that same year; Loring sold it to John Barber in 1712; Barber sold it to John Pim in 1715. Samuel Wright and his wife Mary (Pim) inherited it. Jane Moncrief acquired the property and conveyed it to William Welch in 1793, and Welch sold it to William Wittington in 1794. In 1798, William Wittington Jr. was the occupant. The house was made of brick and wood, three stories high, with nineteen windows, valued at $2500. In 1776, Elizabeth Wittington received a license to operate an inn at the Roebuck, Dock Square. In 1790, William Wittington at the Sign of the Roebuck was located next to John Sheppard.

Roebuck, Battery March. July 29, 1702, Widow Salter's house at the Sign of the Roebuck, near the South Battery.

Rose and Crown, southwest corner of State and Devonshire streets. Thomas Matson was one of the first owners of the land. He transferred it to Henry Webb in 1638, and Webb passed it to Henry Phillips in 1656-57. His widow, Mary, gave “the Rose and Crown” to her son Samuel in 1705-06. Gillum Phillips sold it to Peter Faneuil in 1738, and George Bethune and his wife Mary (Faneuil) transferred it to Abiel Smith in 1787. In 1798, there was a three-story brick house with forty-four windows, valued at $9000. On Dec. 29, 1697, a lane led from the Rose and Crown Tavern (Devonshire Street).

Royal Exchange, State Street, see Exchange.

Salutation, northeast corner of North and Salutation streets. James Smith acquired the land early on. He sold it to Christopher Lawson, who then sold it to William Winburne in 1664; Winburne sold it to John Brookins in 1662, and the place was known as “the Salutation Inn.” Elizabeth, Brookins' widow, married (2) Edward Grove, who died in 1686, and (3) William Green. In 1692, William Green and his wife Elizabeth transferred ownership to William Phipps for the house called the Salutation. Spencer Phipps inherited it in 1695, and then it went to John Langdon in 1705, then to Langdon's heirs to Thomas Bradford in 1766, and Bradford sold it to Jacob Rhodes in 1784, which was formerly known as “the Two Palaverers.” In 1798, George Singleton and Charles Shelton occupied it. It was a two-story wooden house with thirty-five windows, valued at $2500. In 1686, Edward Grove was granted a license, Samuel Tyley in 1711, Elisha Odling in 1712, and John Langdon, Jr. in 1714. In 1715 he leased to Elisha Odling, Arthur Young in 1722, Samuel Green in 1731, and Edward Drinker in 1736. In 1757, it was called Two Palaverers. William Campbell was licensed in 1764, Francis Wright in 1767, Thomas Bradford in 1782, and Jacob Rhodes in 1784.

Schooner in Distress and Sign of the Schooner,[Pg 120] North Street, between Cross and Richmond streets. 1761 mentioned in the Town Records.

Seven Stars, northwest corner of Summer and Hawley streets. Owned by John Palmer. His widow Audrey transfers it to Henry Rust in 1652; Rust to his son Nathaniel, 1684-85; Nathaniel to Robert Earle, 1685; Earle to Thomas Banister, 1698, the house becoming known as Seven Stars; Samuel Banister to Samuel Tilly, 1720; Tilly to William Speakman, 1727; Speakman to Leonard Vassal, 1728; Vassal to John Barnes and others for Trinity Church.

Ship, North Street, see Noah's Ark.

Ship, Washington Street, see Cole’s Inn.

Ship, Sign of, on the west side of North Street, between Sun Court and Fleet Street. Originally owned by Thomas Joy, who sold it to Henry Fane, and Fane then sold it to Richard Way in 1659-60, followed by Thomas Kellond in 1777, Robert Bronsdon in 1678-79, William Clarke in 1707-08, Joseph Glidden in 1728, and his heirs to John Ballard in 1781. By 1789, John Ballard was the innkeeper here. Ballard's executor transferred ownership to John Page, who then sold it to George R. Cushing of Hingham in 1797. In 1798, it was a three-story wooden building with twenty-nine windows, valued at $1850, and was occupied by Ebenezer Knowlton, Ziba French, and John Daniels.

Shippen's Crane, Dock Square. 1739 John Ballard approved as a retailer.

Star, northwest corner of Hanover and Union streets. The lot of John Davis in the Book of Possessions. He transfers ownership to John Trotman in 1645, whose wife Katherine transfers on the same day to Thomas Hawkins. In 1671, Hawkins mortgages to Sampson Sheafe, and in 1671-72 the property is handed over to Sheafe. From 1672-73, Sheafe transfers to John Howlet, and in 1676, Susannah, Howlet's wife, transfers to Andrew Neale. In 1709-10, the heirs of [Pg 121] Neale transfer to John Borland, the house known as “the Star,” now occupied by Stephen North and Charles Salter. John Borland inherits in 1727. Jonathan Simpson and his wife Jane (Borland) transfer to William Frobisher in 1787. In 1798, it was a wooden house, two stories, with twenty-eight windows, valued at $3000. Frobisher and Thomas Dillaway were the occupants. In 1699, the fore street leading to Star Inn is mentioned. In 1700, there was a house near the Star Ale House. In 1722, John Thing was licensed. In 1737, the house formerly known as the Star Tavern on Union Street.

State’s Arms, Washington Street. See King’s Arms.

Sun, Faneuil Hall Square. In the Book of Possessions Edward Bendall had a house and garden here. He mortgaged it to Symon Lynde, who took over in 1653. His son Samuel Lynde inherited it in 1687, and his heirs divided it in 1736. Joseph Gooch and others transferred ownership of the Sun Tavern to Joseph Jackson in 1769. Jackson’s widow Mary inherited in 1796 and lived in the house with others in 1798, when it was a brick building with three stories, twenty-two windows, worth $8000. A street leading to the dock by the Sun Tavern existed from 1694-95. From 1699-1700, it was occupied by James Meeres. In 1709, it was owned by Samuel Lynde, who then transferred it to Thomas Phillips. In 1757, Capt. James Day received a license for it.

Sun, west side of Washington Street, between Brattle and Court streets. In 1782, Gillum Taylor transferred his property to John Hinckley, bordered to the south by the land owned by Benjamin Edes, formerly the Sun Tavern.

Swan, on the west side of Commercial Street, close to the Ferry. In 1651, Thomas Rucke took out a mortgage on his house named The Swan, which he purchased from Christopher Lawson in 1648, and Lawson bought it from Thomas Buttolph, the original owner.

Swan, Sign of the, see Queen’s Head. In 1708, Fish Street (North Street) goes all the way to the Sign of the Swan near Scarlett’s Wharf.

[Pg 122]Swann, location not specified. Mentioned in Town Records in 1777.

Three Crowns, North Street, between Cross and Richmond streets. 1718 Thomas Coppin licensed. 1735 mentioned in the Town Records.

Three Horse Shoes, on the west side of Washington Street, between School and Bromfield streets. This was originally owned by William Aspinwall, who transferred the land to John Angier in 1652. The heirs of Edmund Rangier then passed it to William Turner in 1697. Turner sold it to George Sirce in 1713. William Gatcomb and his wife Mary (Sirce) inherited it. In 1744, Philip Gatcomb mortgaged the house known as the Sign of the Three Horse Shoes; William Gatcomb sold it to Gilbert Deblois, Jr., in 1784; Lewis Deblois transferred it to Christopher Gore in 1789; Gore sold it to James Cutler and Jonathan Amory in 1793; Cutler then sold it to Jonathan Amory, Jr., in 1797.

Three Mariners, on the south side of Faneuil Hall Square. Originally owned by Isaac Grosse. In 1679, Thomas Grosse transferred it to Joseph Pemberton, who then passed it on to Benjamin Pemberton between 1701 and 1702, calling it “the Three Mariners.” By 1701-02, Edward Bedford was occupying it. In 1712, the executor of Benjamin Pemberton sold the house known as the “Three Mariners” to Benjamin Davis. In 1723, Elizabeth, the widow of Benjamin Davis, sold the house, referred to as “Bear Tavern,” to Henry Whitten, who then transferred it to John Hammock in 1734-35. Ebenezer Miller and his wife Elizabeth (Hammock) sold it to William Boyce in 1772, and Boyce sold it to William Stackpole in 1795, calling it the “Bear Tavern.” By 1798, it was a wooden house with three stories, fourteen windows, valued at $5000, and occupied by Peter Richardson. In the nineteenth century, it was known as the “Bite.”

Three Mariners, at the bottom of State Street. 1719 Thomas Finch licensed.

THE SUN TAVERN (Dock Square) AROUND 1900

[Pg 123]Turkey, see Peacock.

Two Talkers, see Salutation.

Union Flag, Battery March. 1731 William Hallowell’s house, known as the Union Flag. It may not be a tavern.

Vernon’s Head and Admiral Vernon, located at the northeast corner of State Street and Merchants’ Row. Originally owned by Edward Tyng, who sold it to James Everill in 1651-52, and then to John Evered alias Webb in 1657. Webb transferred it to William Alford in 1664. Peter Butler and his wife Mary (Alford) inherited it and sold it to James Gooch in 1720. In 1760, John Gooch sold “Vernon’s Head” to Tuthill Hubbard. By 1798, it had become a brick store. In 1745, Richard Smith received a license, followed by Thomas Hubbard in 1764. In 1766, William Taunt, who had been running the Admiral Vernon for several years, requested a recommendation for operating a tavern at the large house recently occupied by Potter and Gregory nearby. Sarah Bean was licensed in 1774, Nicholas Lobdell in 1776 and 1786, and John Bryant in 1790.

White Bear, Sign of, location not specified. Mentioned in the Town Records in 1757.

White Horse, on the west side of Washington Street, between West and Boylston streets. The land was owned by Elder William Colburne in the Book of Possessions. Moses Paine and his wife Elizabeth (Colburne) inherited it. Thomas Powell and his wife Margaret (Paine) inherited next. In 1700, Powell sold the inn known as the White Horse to Thomas Brattle. William Brattle mortgaged it to John Marshall in 1732, and Marshall transferred it to Jonathan Dwight in 1740. William Bowdoin won a judgment against Dwight and transferred it to Joseph Morton in 1765; Morton passed it to Perez Morton in 1791. By 1798, it was occupied by Aaron Emmes. It was a wooden house, two stories high, with twenty-six windows, valued at $9000. In 1717, Thomas Chamberlain was licensed, followed by William Cleeres in 1718,[Pg 124] Mrs. Moulton in 1764, Israel Hatch in 1787, Joseph Morton in 1789, and Aaron Emmes in 1798.

White Horse, Sign of the, Cambridge Street, near Charles River Bridge. 1789 Moses Bradley (innkeeper).

References:

[1] Cordis’s bill for a dinner hosted by Governor Hancock for the Fusileers at this house in 1792 is quite a fascinating document in its own right:—

[2] A punch bowl engraved with the names of seventeen members of the old Whig Club is, or was, owned by R. C. Mackay of Boston. In addition to those already mentioned, Dr. Church, Dr. Young, Richard Derby from Salem, Benjamin Kent, Nathaniel Barber, William Mackay, and Colonel Timothy Bigelow from Worcester were also key members. The Club communicated with Wilkes, Saville, Barré, and Sawbridge—all prominent Whigs who opposed the forceful measures aimed at the Americans.

[3] Liberty Tree grew where Liberty Tree Block is now located, at the corner of Essex and Washington Streets.

[4] The name of a room at Julien’s.

Text of Illustrations:

Daniel Jones of Boston,
Hereby informs his customers and others that he has
Opened a tavern on Newbury Street,
at the sign of the Hat and Helmet, which is less
than a quarter of a mile south of the Town Hall:
Where gentlemen travelers and others will be treated
well, and their horses will be well cared for.

He has accommodations for private and fire
clubs, and will promise to provide good drinks
and service: Coffee will be available upon request, etc.

The house will be stocked with newspapers for
the enjoyment of his customers.

P.S. Knitted and plain beaver and beaveret hats,
in the latest styles, made and sold by said Jones.

STAGES.
The public is informed that the New York Mail and Old Line Stages Office has moved from State Street to Major King's tavern near the Market. They will leave every day at 8:00 AM (except Sundays). Additionally, the Albany Stage Office is located at the same place. The Stage will depart every Monday and Thursday at 8:00 AM.

The space on State Street that was recently used for this purpose is available for rent. Interested parties can contact Major King.

December 11

New York and Providence Mail STAGES,
Leave Major Hatches, Royal Ex-
change Coffee House, on State St., every morning
at 8 AM, arriving in Providence by 6 PM the same day; leave
Providence at 4 PM for New York on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. A stage book is available at the bar for
taking names. Express deliveries are sent to any part of the
continent at short notice and reasonable rates; horses
are kept ready for this purpose only. All favors are gratefully ac-
knowledged by the Public’s most humble servant.

Jan 1. STEPHEN FULLER, jun.

Jolley Allen,
Wants to let all his good old friends,
Customers and others,
Know that he has reopened his shop, across from the
Three Doves on Marlborough Street, Boston:
And he has for sale, at the lowest prices, the follow-
ing items;

Muscovado sugars of various types
and prices, single, middle, and double refined
English loaf sugars, recently imported, pepper,
Bohea tea, coffee, spices of all types, indigo,
raisins, currants, starch, ginger, copperas,
alum, pipes of all kinds, the best Durham flour
of mustard, and many other kinds of groceries
too numerous to list, which he will sell in
quantities from the largest to the smallest.—Also,
a very large and complete assortment of Liver-
pool and Staffordshire ware, which he will
sell by the crate or as individual pieces, as
cheap as any store in town.—Playing cards,
wool cards, sieve bottoms, a few pieces of
Oznabrigs and Ticklenburgs, N^o.4 and N^o.12.
Pins, a few pieces of sooses, damasks, sterrets,
Loretto’s, Burdetts, Brunswicks, mozeens,
for summer waistcoats, etc., etc., etc.

Also, at Allen's you can find nice
boarding and lodging for six or eight people
if needed, for a longer or shorter stay,
and good stabling for ten horses and car-
riages.

N.B. If anyone is interested in renting the above
stable and carriage space, they can have
a lease for 19 years or less from Allen, and if needed,
there is room for forty or fifty
horses and carriages on the same premises: It’s as good a place for
horse and carriage rentals as any in Boston.