Greenwich Village | Page 6

the mist of the past.
And in that same part of the Square--in number 59 or 60, it is
said--lived one who cannot be omitted from any story of the Potter's
Field: Daniel Megie, the city's gravedigger. In 1819 he bought a plot of
ground from one John Ireland, and erected a small frame house, where
he lived and where he stored the tools of his rather grim trade. For three
years he dwelt there, smoothing the resting places in the Field of Sleep;
then, in 1823, a new Potter's Field was opened at the point now known
as Bryant Park, and the bodies from the lower cemetery were carried
there. Megie, apparently, lost his job, sold out to Joseph Dean and
disappeared into obscurity. It is interesting to note that he bought his
plot in the first place for $500; now it is incorporated in the apartment
house site which is estimated at about $250,000!

There is a legend to the effect that Governor Lucius Robinson later
occupied this same house, but the writer does not vouch for the fact.
The Governor certainly lived somewhere in the vicinity, and his
favourite walk was on Amity Street,--why can't we call it that now,
instead of the cold and colourless Third Street?
I find that I have said nothing of Monument Lane,--sometimes called
Obelisk Lane,--yet it was quite a landmark in its day, as one may gather
from the fact that Ratzer thought it important enough to put in his
official map. It ran, I think, almost directly along North Washington
Square, and, at one point, formed part of the "Inland Road to
Greenwich" which was the scene of Revolutionary manoeuvres.
Monument Lane was so called because at the end of it (about Fifteenth
Street and Eighth Avenue) stood a statue of the much-adored English
general, James Wolfe, whose storming of the Heights of Abraham in
the Battle of Quebec, and attendant defeat of the Marquis de Montcalm,
have made him illustrious in history. After the Revolution, the statue
disappeared, and there is no record of its fate.
With the passing of the old Potter's Field, came many changes. Mayor
Stephen Allen (later lost on the Henry Clay), made signal civic
improvements; he levelled, drained and added three and a half acres to
the field. In short, it became a valuable tract of ground. Society, driven
steadily upward from Bowling Green, Bond Street, Bleecker and the
rest, had commenced to settle down in the country. What had yesterday
been rural districts were suburbs today.
In 1806 there were as many as fifteen families in this neighbourhood
rich and great enough to have carriages. Colonel Turnbull had an "out
of town" house at, approximately, Eighth and Macdougal streets,--a
charming cottage, with twenty acres of garden land which today are
worth millions. Growing tired of living in the country, he offered to sell
his place to his friend, Nehemiah Rogers; but the latter decided against
it.
"It is too far out of town!" he declared.
"But you have a carriage!" exclaimed the Colonel. "You can drive in to

the city whenever you want to!"
The distance was too great, however, and Mr. Rogers did not buy.
By 1826, however, the tide had carried many persons of wealth out to
this neighbourhood, and there were more and more carriages to be seen
with each succeeding month. All at once, high iron railings were built
about the deserted Potter's Field,--a Potter's Field no longer,--and on
June 27th of that year a proclamation was issued:
"The corporation of the city of New York have been pleased to set
apart a piece of ground for a military parade on Fourth Street near
Macdougal Street, and have directed it to be called 'Washington
Military Parade Ground.' For the purpose of honouring its first
occupation as a military parade, Colonel Arcularis will order a
detachment from his regiment with field pieces to parade on the ground
on the morning of the Fourth of July next. He shall fire a national salute
and proclaim the name of the parade ground, with such ceremonies as
he shall see fit."
This occasion, an anniversary of American independence, seems to
have been a most gorgeous affair, with the Governor, Mayor and other
officials present, and a monumental feast to wind up with. The menu
included, among other dainties, two oxen roasted whole, two hundred
hams ("with a carver at each"), and so many barrels of beer that the
chronicler seems not to have had the courage to record the precise
number!
1827 seems to have seen a real growth of social life around the
Washington Parade Ground. The New York Gazette of June 7th
advertised "three-story dwellings in Fourth Street, between Thompson
and Macdougal streets, for sale. The front and rear of the whole range