The Pittsburgh Gazette was devoted to the interests of the Federal party, and Brackenridge and the other leading Republicans felt the need of a newspaper of their own. The result was the establishment on August 16, 1800, of the Tree of Liberty, by John Israel, who was already publishing a newspaper, called the Herald of Liberty, in Washington, Pennsylvania. The title of the new paper was intended to typify its high mission. The significance of the name was further indicated in the conspicuously displayed motto, “And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.” The Federalists, and more especially their organ, the Pittsburgh Gazette,84 charged Brackenridge with being the owner of the new paper, and with being responsible for its utterances. Brackenridge, however, has left a letter in which he refuted this statement, and alleged that originally he intended to establish a newspaper, but on hearing of Israel’s intention gave up the idea.85

The extent of the comforts and luxuries enjoyed in Pittsburgh was surprising. The houses, whether built of logs, or frame, or brick, were comfortable, even in winter. In the kitchens were large open fire-places, where wood was burned. The best coal fuel was plentiful. Although stoves were invented barely half a century earlier, and were in general use only in the larger cities, the houses in Pittsburgh could already boast of many. There were cannon stoves, so called because of their upright cylindrical, cannon-like shape, and Franklin or open stoves, invented by Benjamin Franklin; the latter graced the parlor. Grates were giving out their cheerful blaze. They were also in use in some of the rooms of the new court house, and in the new jail.

The advertisements of the merchants told the story of what the people ate and drank, and of the materials of which their clothing was made. Articles of food were in great variety. In the stores were tea, coffee, red and sugar almonds, olives, chocolate, spices of all kinds, muscatel and keg raisins, dried peas, and a score of other luxuries, besides the ordinary articles of consumption. The gentry of England, as pictured in the pages of the old romances, did not have a greater variety of liquors to drink. There were Madeira, sherry, claret, Lisbon, port, and Teneriffe wines, French and Spanish brandies,86 Jamaica and antique spirits.87 Perrin DuLac, who visited Pittsburgh in 1802, said these liquors were the only articles sold in the town that were dear.88 But not all partook of the luxuries. Bread and meat, and such vegetables as were grown in the neighborhood, constituted the staple articles of food, and homemade whisky was the ordinary drink of the majority of the population. The native fruits were apples and pears, which had been successfully propagated since the early days of the English occupation.89

Materials for men’s and women’s clothing were endless in variety and design and consisted of cloths, serges, flannels, brocades, jeans, fustians, Irish linens, cambrics, lawns, nankeens, ginghams, muslins, calicos, and chintzes. Other articles were tamboured petticoats, tamboured cravats, silk and cotton shawls, wreaths and plumes, sunshades and parasols, black silk netting gloves, white and salmon-colored long and short gloves, kid and morocco shoes and slippers, men’s beaver, tanned, and silk gloves, men’s cotton and thread caps, and silk and cotton hose.

Men were changing their dress along with their political opinions. One of the consequences in the United States of the French Revolution was to cause the effeminate and luxurious dress in general use to give way to simpler and less extravagant attire. The rise of the Republican party and the class distinctions which it was responsible for engendering, more than any other reason, caused the men of affairs—the merchants, the manufacturers, the lawyers, the physicians, and the clergymen—to discard the old fashions and adopt new ones. Cocked hats gave way to soft or stiff hats, with low square crowns and straight brims. The fashionable hats were the beaver made of the fur of the beaver, the castor made of silk in imitation of the beaver, and the roram made of felt, with a facing of beaver fur felted in. Coats of blue, green, and buff, and waistcoats of crimson, white, or yellow, were superseded by garments of soberer colors. Coats continued to be as long as ever, but the tails were cut away in front. Knee-breeches were succeeded by tight-fitting trousers reaching to the ankles; low-buckled shoes, by high-laced leather shoes, or boots. Men discontinued wearing cues, and their hair was cut short, and evenly around the head. There were of course exceptions. Many men of conservative temperament still clung to the old fashions. A notable example in Pittsburgh was the Rev. Robert Steele, who always appeared in black satin knee-breeches, knee-buckles, silk stockings, and pumps.90

The farmers on the plantations surrounding Pittsburgh and the mechanics in the borough were likewise affected by the movement for dress reform. Their apparel had always been less picturesque than that of the business and professional men. Now the ordinary dress of the farmers and mechanics consisted of short tight-fitting round-abouts, or sailor’s jackets, made in winter of cloth or linsey, and in summer of nankeen, dimity, gingham, or linen. Sometimes the jacket was without sleeves, the shirt being heavy enough to afford protection against inclement weather. The trousers were loose-fitting and long, and extended to the ankles, and were made of nankeen, tow, or cloth. Some men wore blanket-coats. Overalls, of dimity, nankeen, and cotton, were the especial badge of mechanics. The shirt was of tow or coarse linen, the vest of dimity. On their feet, farmers and mechanics alike wore coarse high-laced shoes, half-boots, or boots made of neat’s leather. The hats were soft, of fur or wool, and were low and round-crowned, or the crowns were high and square.

The inhabitants of Pittsburgh were pleasure-loving, and the time not devoted to business was given over to the enjoyments of life. Men and women alike played cards. Whisk, as whist was called, and Boston were the ordinary games.91 All classes and nationalities danced, and dancing was cultivated as an art. Dancing masters came to Pittsburgh to give instructions, and adults and children alike took lessons. In winter public balls and private assemblies were given. The dances were more pleasing to the senses than any ever seen in Pittsburgh, except the dances of the recent revival of the art. The cotillion was executed by an indefinite number of couples, who performed evolutions or figures as in the modern german. Other dances were the minuet, the menuet à la cour, and jigs. The country dance, generally performed by eight persons, four men and four women, comprised a variety of steps, and a surprising number of evolutions, of which liveliness was the characteristic.

The taverns had rooms set apart for dances. The “Sign of the Green Tree,”92 had an “Assembly Room”; the “Sign of General Butler”93 and the “Sign of the Waggon”94 each had a “Ball Room.” The small affairs were given in the homes of the host or hostess, and the large ones in the taverns, or in the grand-jury room of the new court house.

The dancing masters gave “Practicing Balls” at which the cotillion began at seven o’clock, and the ball concluded with the country dance, which was continued until twelve o’clock.95 Dancing became so popular and to such an extent were dancing masters in the eyes of the public that William Irwin christened his race horse “Dancing Master.”96 The ball given to General Lee was talked about for years after the occurrence. Its beauties were pictured by many fair lips. The ladies recalled the soldierly bearing of the guest of honor, the tall robust form of General Daniel Morgan, Lee’s second in command, and the commander of the Virginia troops, famous as the hero of Quebec and Saratoga, who had received the thanks of Congress for his victory at Cowpens. They dwelt on the varicolored uniforms of the soldiers, the bright colors worn by the civilians, their powdered hair, the brocades, and silks, and velvets of the ladies.

In winter evenings there were concerts and theatrical performances which were generally given in the new court house. A unique concert was that promoted by Peter Declary. It was heralded as a musical event of importance. Kotzwara’s The Battle of Prague, was performed on the “forte piano” by one of Declary’s pupils, advertised as being only eight years of age; President Jefferson’s march was another conspicuous feature. The exhibition concluded with a ball.97

Comedy predominated in the theatrical performances. The players were “the young gentlemen of the town.” At one of the entertainments they gave John O’Keefe’s comic opera The Poor Soldier, and a farce by Arthur Murphy called The Apprentice.98 There were also performances of a more professional character. Bromley and Arnold, two professional actors, conducted a series of theatrical entertainments extending over a period of several weeks. The plays which they rendered are hardly known to-day. At a single performance99 they gave a comedy entitled Trick upon Trick, or The Vintner in the Suds; a farce called The Jealous Husband, or The Lawyer in the Sack; and a pantomime, The Sailor’s Landlady, or Jack in Distress. Another play in the series was Edward Moore’s tragedy, The Gamester.100

Much of Grant’s Hill was unenclosed. Clumps of trees grew on its irregular surface, and there were level open spaces; and in summer the place was green with grass, and bushes grew in profusion. Farther in the background were great forest trees. The hill was the pleasure ground of the village. Judge Henry M. Brackenridge, a son of Judge Hugh Henry Brackenridge dwelling on the past, declared that “it was pleasing to see the line of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen and children, ... repairing to the beautiful green eminence.”101 On this elevation “under a bower, on the margin of a wood, and near a delightful spring, with the town of Pittsburgh in prospect,” the Fourth of July celebrations were held.102 On August 2, 1794, the motley army of Insurgents from Braddocksfield rested there, after having marched through the town. Here they were refreshed with food and whisky, in order that they might keep in good humor, and to prevent their burning the town.103

Samuel Jones has left an intimate, if somewhat regretful account of the early social life of Pittsburgh. “The long winter evenings,” he wrote, “were passed by the humble villagers at each other’s homes, with merry tale and song, or in simple games; and the hours of night sped lightly onward with the unskilled, untiring youth, as they threaded the mazes of the dance, guided by the music of the violin, from which some good-humored rustic drew his Orphean sounds. In the jovial time of harvest and hay-making, the sprightly and active of the village participated in the rural labors and the hearty pastimes, which distinguished that happy season. The balls and merry-makings that were so frequent in the village were attended by all without any particular deference to rank or riches. No other etiquette than that which natural politeness prescribed was exacted or expected.... Young fellows might pay their devoirs to their female acquaintances; ride, walk, or talk with them, and pass hours in their society without being looked upon with suspicion by parents, or slandered by trolloping gossips.”104

The event of autumn was the horse races, which lasted three days. They were held in the northeasterly extremity of the town between Liberty Street and the Allegheny River,105 and were conducted under the auspices of the Jockey Club which had been in existence for many years. Sportsmen came from all the surrounding country. The races were under the saddle, sulkies not having been invented. Racing proprieties were observed, and jockeys were required to be dressed in jockey habits.106 Purses were given. The horses compared favorably with race horses of a much later day. A prominent horse was “Young Messenger” who was sired by “Messenger,” the most famous trotting horse in America, which had been imported into Philadelphia from England in 1788, and was the progenitor of Rysdyk’s Hambletonian, Abdallah, Goldsmith Maid, and a score of other noted race horses.

A third of a century after the race course had been removed beyond the limits of the municipality, Judge Henry M. Brackenridge published his recollections of the entrancing sport. “It was then an affair of all-engrossing interest, and every business or pursuit was neglected.... The whole town was daily poured forth to witness the Olympian games.... The plain within the course and near it was filled with booths as at a fair, where everything was said, and done, and sold, and eaten or drunk, where every fifteen or twenty minutes there was a rush to some part, to witness a fisticuff—where dogs barked and bit, and horses trod on men’s toes, and booths fell down on people’s heads!”107

The social instincts of the people found expression in another direction. The Revolutionary War, the troubles with the Indians, the more or less strained relations existing between France and England, had combined to inbreed a military spirit. Pennsylvania, with a population, in 1800, of 602,365, had enrolled in the militia 88,707 of its citizens. The militia was divided into light infantry, riflemen, grenadiers, cavalry, and artillery.108 Allegheny County had a brigade of militia, consisting of eight regiments.109 The commander was General Alexander Fowler, an old Englishman who had served in America, in the 18th, or Royal Irish, Regiment of Foot. On the breaking out of the Revolutionary War, he had resigned his commission on account of his sympathy with the Americans. Being unfit for active service, Congress appointed him Auditor of the Western Department at Pittsburgh.

The militia had always been more or less permeated with partisan politics. During the Revolution the American officers wore a cockade with a black ground and a white relief, called the black cockade. This the Federalists had made their party emblem. The Republican party, soon after its organization, adopted as a badge of party distinction a cockade of red and blue on a white base, the colors of revolutionary France. The red and blue cockade thereafter became the distinguishing mark of the majority of the Pennsylvania militia, being adopted on the recommendation of no less a person than Governor McKean. General Fowler’s advocacy of the red and blue cockade and his disparagement of the black cockade were incessant. He was an ardent Republican, and his effusions with their classic allusions filled many columns of the Tree of Liberty and the Pittsburgh Gazette. At a meeting of the Allegheny County militia held at Marie’s tavern, the red and blue cockade had been adopted. Fowler claimed that this was the result of public sentiment. He was fond of platitudes. “The voice of the people is the voice of God,” he quoted, crediting the proverb to an “English commentator,” and adding: “Says a celebrated historian, ‘individuals may err, but the voice of the people is infallible.’”110 A strong minority in Allegheny County remained steadfast to the Federal party, and the vote in favor of the adoption of the red and blue cockade was not unanimous. Two of the regiments, not to be engulfed in the growing wave of Republicanism, or overawed by the domineering disposition of General Fowler, opposed the adoption of the red and blue cockade, and chose the black cockade.111

The equipment furnished to the militia by the State was meagre, but the patriotism which had so lately won the country’s independence was still at flood tide, and each regiment was supplied with two silk standards. One was the national flag, the other the regimental colors. The national emblem differed somewhat from the regulation United States flag. The word “Pennsylvania” appeared on the union, with the number of the regiment, the whole being encircled by thirteen white stars. The fly of the regimental colors was dark blue; on this was painted an eagle with extended wings supporting the arms of the State. The union was similar to that of the national flag. The prescribed uniform which many of the men, however, did not possess, was a blue coat faced with red, with a lining of white or red. In Allegheny County a round hat with the cockade and buck’s tail, was worn.112 The parade ground of the militia was the level part of Grant’s Hill which adjoined Marie’s tavern on the northeast. Here twice each year, in April and October, the militia received its training. Of no minor interest, was the social life enjoyed by officers and men alike, during the annual assemblages.

In the territory contiguous to Pittsburgh the uprising, for the right to manufacture whisky without paying the excise, had its inception. That taverns should abound in the town was a natural consequence. In 1808 the public could be accommodated at twenty-four different taverns.113 The annual license fee for taverns, including the clerk’s charges, was barely twenty dollars. Through some mental legerdemain of the lawmakers it had been enacted that if more than a quart was sold no license was required. Liquors, and particularly whisky, were sold in nearly every mercantile establishment. Also beer had been brewed in Pittsburgh since an early day, at the “Point Brewery,” which was purchased in 1795 by Smith and Shiras.114 Beer was likewise brewed in a small way by James Yeaman, two or three years later.115 In February, 1803, O’Hara and Coppinger, who had acquired the “Point Brewery,” began brewing beer on a larger scale.116

In the taverns men met to consummate their business, and to discuss their political and social affairs. Lodge No. 45 of Ancient York Masons met in the taverns for many years, as did the Mechanical Society. Even the Board of Trustees of the Academy held their meetings there.117 Religion itself, looked with a friendly eye on the taverns. In the autumn of 1785, the Rev. Wilson Lee, a Methodist missionary, appeared in Pittsburgh, and preached in John Ormsby’s tavern,118 on Water Street, at his ferry landing,119 at what is now the northeast corner of that street and Ferry Street. This was the same double log house which, while conducted by Samuel Semple, was in 1770 patronized by Colonel George Washington.120

Tavern keeping and liquor selling were of such respectability that many of the most esteemed citizens were, or had been tavern-keepers, or had sold liquors, or distilled whisky, or brewed beer. Jeremiah Sturgeon was a member of the session of the Presbyterian Church.121 John Reed, the proprietor of the “Sign of the Waggon,” in addition to being a leading member of the Jockey Club, and the owner of the race horse “Young Messenger,”122 was precentor in the Presbyterian Church, and on Sundays “lined out the hymns” and led the singing.123 The pew of William Morrow is marked on the diagram of the ground-plan of the church as printed in its Centennial Volume.124 The “Sign of the Cross Keys,” the emblem of Sturgeon’s tavern, was of religious origin and was much favored in England. Although used by a Presbyterian, it was the arms of the Papal See, and the emblem of St. Peter and his successors. That the way to salvation lay through the door of the tavern, would seem to have been intended to be indicated by the “Sign of the Cross Keys.” William Eichbaum, a pillar in the German church, after he left the employ of O’Hara and Craig, conducted a tavern on Front Street, near Market, at the “Sign of the Indian Queen.” The owners of the ferries kept taverns in connection with their ferries. Ephraim Jones conducted a tavern at his ferry landing on the south side of the Monongahela River; Robert Henderson had a tavern on Water Street at his ferry landing; Samuel Emmett kept a tavern at his landing on the south side of the Monongahela River; and James Robinson had a tavern on the Franklin Road at the northerly terminus of his ferry.125

Drinking was universal among both men and women. Judge James Veech declared that whisky “was the indispensable emblem of hospitality and the accompaniment of labor in every pursuit, the stimulant in joy and the solace in grief. It was kept on the counter of every store and in the corner cupboard of every well-to-do family. The minister partook of it before going to church, and after he came back. At home and abroad, at marryings and buryings, at house raisings and log rollings, at harvestings and huskings, it was the omnipresent beverage of old and young, men and women; and he was a churl who stinted it. To deny it altogether required more grace or niggardliness than most men could command, at least for daily use.”126

A practical joke perpetrated by the Rev. Dr. John McMillan, on the Rev. Joseph Patterson, another of the early ministers in this region, illustrates the custom of drinking among the clergy. On their way to attend a meeting of the Synod, the two men stopped at a wayside inn and called for whisky, which was set before them. Mr. Patterson asked a blessing which was rather lengthy. Dr. McMillan meanwhile drank the whisky, and to Mr. Patterson’s blank look remarked blandly, “You must watch as well as pray!”127

Families purchased whisky and laid it away in their cellars for future consumption, and that it might improve with age. Judge Hugh Henry Brackenridge declared that the visit of the “Whisky Boys”—as the Insurgents from Braddocksfield were called—to Pittsburgh cost him “four barrels of old whisky.”128 The statement caused Henry Adams, in his life of Albert Gallatin, to volunteer the assertion that it nowhere appeared “how much whisky the western gentleman usually kept in his house.”129

There was no legislation against selling liquors on Sundays. The only law on the subject was an old one under which persons found drinking and tippling in ale-houses, taverns, and other public houses on Sundays, were liable to be fined one shilling and sixpence; and the keepers of the houses upon conviction were required to pay ten shillings. The line of demarcation between proper and improper drinking being faint, the law proved ineffectual to prevent drinking on Sundays.

Religion had not kept pace with material progress. The people had been too much engrossed in secular affairs to attend to spiritual matters. They were withal generous, and practiced the Christian virtues; and never failed to help their unfortunate neighbors. This disposition was manifested in various ways. Losses by fire were of frequent occurrence and were apt to cause distress or ruin to those affected. In these cases the citizens always furnished relief. An instance where this was done was in the case of William Thorn. Thorn was a cabinet-maker on Market Street, and built windmills and Dutch fans.130 When the house which he occupied was burned to the ground and he lost all his tools and valuable ready-made furniture, a liberal subscription was made by the citizens, and he was enabled to again commence his business.131

But there was little outward observance of religious forms. The Germans had made some progress in that direction. The little log building where they worshipped had been succeeded by a brick church. The only English church was the Presbyterian Meeting House facing on Virgin Alley, now Oliver Avenue, erected in 1786. It was the same building of squared timbers in which the congregation had originally worshipped. From 1789 to 1793, the church had languished greatly. There was no regular pastor; services were held at irregular and widely separated intervals. Two of the men who served as supplies left the ministry and became lawyers.132 From 1793 to 1800, the church was all but dead. The house was deserted and falling into ruin. Only once, so far as there is any record, were Presbyterian services held in the building during this period. It was in 1799 that the Rev. Francis Herron, passing through Pittsburgh, was induced to deliver a sermon to a congregation consisting of fifteen or eighteen persons “much to the annoyance of the swallows,” as Herron ingenuously related, which had taken possession of the premises.133

A light had flashed momentarily in the darkness when John Wrenshall, the father of Methodism in Pittsburgh, settled in the town. Wrenshall was an Englishman who came to Pittsburgh in 1796 and established a mercantile business. He was converted to Wesleyanism in England and had been a local preacher there. As there was no minister or preaching of any kind in Pittsburgh, he commenced holding services in the Presbyterian Meeting House. His audiences increased, but after a few Sundays of active effort, a padlock was placed on the door of the church, and he was notified that the house was no longer at his disposal. The Presbyterians might not hold services themselves, but they would not permit the use of their building to adherents of the new sect of Methodists, “the offspring of the devil.”

A great religious revival swept over the Western country in the concluding years of the eighteenth century. In Kentucky it developed into hysteria,134 and in Western Pennsylvania the display of religious fervor was scarcely less intense.135 The effect was felt in Pittsburgh. On October 24, 1800, the Pittsburgh Gazette was moved to ask the Presbyterian congregation, of which its proprietor was a leading member, a number of pertinent questions: Could they hope for good morals without religion or the fear of God; could religion be maintained without public worship; had they a house in which public worship could be performed with decency and convenience? Were they not able to erect a respectable and commodious church building, as well as to provide for the maintenance of a minister? Would not money so employed “be more for the benefit of the town than horse racing, billiard playing, etc., etc.?” The answer of the congregation was to procure the appointment of the Rev. Robert Steele as supply and the church began to show signs of life again. In April, 1802, Steele was received as a member of the Presbytery, the action being approved by the Synod in the following September.136 From that time forward, the church began that spiritual and material advancement—although there were ebbs and flows in its progress—which has continued to this day.