Source:Fleming-patriots
George T. Fleming. "Great patriots are honored in street names: Commemoration of splendid leaders of young republic is apparent here: Clay and Webster." Pittsburgh Gazette Times, Mar. 4, 1917, sec. 5, pp. 2–3. Newspapers.com 85858155, 85858158.
THE consideration last week of Washington's name in local commemoration, especially in street nomenclature, leads to the consideration of the names of other noted Americans likewise honored and there are many names so used, but with no uniformity and no system.
We find names of great men applied to alleys and names of men of small caliber mentally and little fame applied to pretentious thoroughfares. Some local commemorations are absurd—inconsistent with the plain dictates of common sense—but too late now to change. These are to be passed by. We can note how great Americans' names are kept alive in historic and fervidly patriotic Pittsburgh.
The application of the name of any noted American to a place can be taken as a lesson in patriotism, the object being to keep alive the fame of the person commemorated, hence the story of his life and deeds make him an example to each succeeding generation. So the names Washington, Lincoln, Franklin, Grant and hundreds of others have been used.
The application of names of noted Americans to streets in Pittsburgh is so varied that it demands notice. We have taken many names of soldiers for this purpose and from all our wars we have used the names of some of our presidents, some of our United States senators, some of Pennsylvania's governors, some famous statesmen, some pioneers, some local celebrities, some great writers, and some land holders—the whole a veritable hodge-podge.
Many original names of streets have gone forever. For instance once every Pennsylvania signer of the Declaration of Independence was honored in a street name in Pittsburgh, these streets parallel and in the same locality.
Some cities honoring great Americans by the bestowal of their names upon streets have done so by some system, the streets running parallel and named in order of succession. Thus in Chicago names of streets called for presidents of the United States, Washington, Adams, Madison, Monroe, etc.; in Philadelphia, names of the governors of Pennsylvania in consecutive order in the southern part of the city.
No such system pertains to Pittsburgh. We have Washington place and Washington boulevard miles apart; Adams street some miles from either; Jefferson and Madison likewise, Monroe far from either. So the name of one is no clue to the neighborhood of another as in Chicago and Philadelphia, the lack of any system plain notion that the streets have been named one at a time and at haphazard.
Take the names of the presidents of the United States and on going over the long list of Pittsburgh streets, we find that we have Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Jackson, Harrison, Tyler, Polk, Taylor, Fillmore, Pierce, Lincoln, Garfield, Roosevelt and Taft honored in names, of thoroughfares large or small, important and unimportant.
We have not honored Van Buren, Buchanan, Johnson, Grant, Hayes, Arthur, Cleveland, McKinley or Wilson so far in any street name. U. S. Grant was shut out by the well-known commemoration of Maj. James Grant in Grant street on the hill, where he and his Highlanders suffered defeat September 14, 1758.
However, our great Civil War commander was honored in the former city of Allegheny in Grant avenue, now Galveston avenue, a street connecting with the Manchester or the new bridge at the Point. The change of street name became necessary upon the annexation of the old city of Allegheny on account of duplication with old Grant street. The fact that the North Side thoroughfare was Grant avenue and the other simply Grant street was not sufficient to distinguish them. There are some stupid people, also some careless ones. It is easy to believe that some would write the word "avenue" where they intended or should have written "street" and some vice versa, thus mixing things up for the postal authorities and causing confusion and delay.
As the postal authorities do not permit the use of a name to more than one postoffice in a state, so also do they aim to have municipal authorities have but one thoroughfare of the same name. It does not answer the objection to state that if the name of the county be always applied there would be no difficulty in duplicated postoffice names.
Few people, comparatively, know counties, excepting perhaps the names of those in which they formerly maintained homes and names of contiguous counties. Few people put the county name on a letter. Half those who do get it wrong. At least that is the opinion of many postal clerks.
For this same invalid reason we could have maintained Grant avenue by writing after it "North Side, Pittsburgh"—but how many would have done so?
So Grant avenue had to go for Galveston and the great commander has now no distinct commemoration in a Pittsburgh street name. However, in some of the neighboring boroughs he has—Millvale, for instance. The transition from Grant to Galveston was easy. Both words begin with the same letter. This system has been followed in renaming; thus Locust gave way to Liverpool, Chartiers to Chateau, Fayette to French, etc.
After one has pondered over this method for several years it strikes him all at once as being delightfully simple and decidedly pertinent, even if Grant and others did go.
When we analyze the commemoration of our presidents in our street names we find Washington place and boulevard, Adams, Jefferson, Monroe, Jackson, Harrison, Fillmore, Pierce, Garfield, Roosevelt and Taft streets; Madison, Taylor and Lincoln avenues; also North Lincoln changed back with the prefix from Lynndale on account of the scarcity of lynns and dales in the vicinity.
Two presidents have been honored by the bestowal of their names upon alleys (now ways). We find Tyler alley and Polk alley. Perhaps Tyler is sufficiently honored. He was not unknown in Pittsburgh. In the great Harrison "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" campaign of 1840 he made a speech on the commons in Allegheny and on being heckled by a hearer became rattled and bombastically uttered the dictum "I am what I am," and it turned out that he was. So, as a political turncoat like Andrew Johnson we may consider John Tyler sufficiently commemorated here. We may remark that his name is heard more frequently in Tyler county, W. Va.
Buchanan, unpopular from the fact that the great Civil War became a possibility through his lack of backbone and the treason of some members of his cabinet, has been passed by in Pittsburgh street names. We once had Buchanan postoffice, which served the upper South Side before annexation in 1872.
Rutherford B. Hayes could not be considered from the similarity of his name to Gen. Alexander Hays' in the East End street. Grover Cleveland's name would also have honored our neighboring and little-loved (hereabouts) Ohio city. We could not stand that, at least as long as sisterly affection exists between cities.
Why Van Buren has been omitted seems puzzling. He was one of those highly respectable old fogies who served as vice president under Jackson and one term as president following Jackson, defeated by William Henry Harrison in 1840, the first great Whig triumph. Harrison, dying one month after his inauguration in 1841, gave us John Tyler, our first accidental president and it may be added our first great disappointment. We have Tyler alley to remind us of him, and it is possible that except the whitewing, who sweeps it and the officials of the bureau of streets, no one knows where this alley or way is. But its [sic] a commemoration just the same.
We have omitted Chester A. Arthur because we had already Arthurs street, commemorating a pioneer family in the section, owning much of the land in the vicinity of the street. We have McKinley Park, but no McKinley street unless one has been named recently. We have already a Wilson street, which shuts out Woodrow.
Locations have not been considered so far. It may be well to note that Adams street is in the old Manchester district of the North Side and Jefferson street extends from Alpena street to Milwaukee street on Herron Hill, Milwaukee formerly called Madison avenue. This is as close as we can get Jefferson and Madison in this respect.
We may further note that Taft street is in old Montooth borough, now part of the Eighteenth Ward, South Hills. Also, that Roosevelt street starts at Wabana street. Some people might stick a pin here for there are many who are desirous of pinning Teddy down who would run little risk beginning with spearing his name.
We have honored a few vice presidents in our street naming—Fillmore, our second accidental president; George Mifflin Dallas, who served with Polk; Hannibal Hamilton [sic], Lincoln's first running mate, put aside for Andrew Johnson at the second running of Lincoln; Schuyler Colfax, who served with Grant in his first term, and William A. Wheeler, who served with Hayes.
Some speakers of the National House of Representatives have been honored, Winthrop street for Robert C. Winthrop, a great man in his day, and Blaine street, for James G. Blaine. However, this latter commemorates Blaine's grandfather, Ephraim Blaine, who was a pioneer about Fort Pitt and a Revolutionary soldier here.
We have some of Pennsylvania's senators likewise. Ross and Lacock streets are well-known examples. Then we have Penrose street and Wilmot street. We have Cowan street, but not for Edgar Cowan, senator rduring [sic] the Civil War, but for a pioneer family, that of a son-in-law of Maj. Abraham Kirkpatrick of Revolutionary fame. We have some Pennsylvania governors, Pollock, Civitin [sic], Geary.
We have honored inventors: Fulton and Westinghouse are examples; also literary men, witness: Lytton, Hawthorne, Thackeray, Kipling. From the War of the Revolution and Colonial wars we have a long line, Braddock, Forbes, Bouquet, Franklin, Putnam, Fayette, Pulaski, Steuben, Morgan, Moultrie, St. Clair and Warren can be cited.
From the War of 1812 we can refer to Perry, Pike, Lawrence, Dearborn, Decatur and Preble. From our War with Mexico, 1846–48, we have Scott, applied now only to an alley downtown, and also the names of battles, Buena Vista, Monterey, etc. also Fremont for John C. Fremont, soldier, explorer and candidate for President.
Our Civil War wave [sic] us many names to commemorate, also the names of battles—Meade, McPherson, Sedgewick [sic], Gettysburg, Fair Oaks, Shiloh and the like. These all have been written of.
The SpanishAmerican [sic] War of 1898 should prove prolific but so far we have only Dewey avenue, Funston avenue and Alger street; also Manila street, former Gum, a failing case of the initial letter rule. We have Sampson street on the North Side but it is an old name long antedating 1898.
We have many names of Indian chiefs and Indian tribes. Tecumseh, Osceola, Mohawk, Seneca and others. These, too, have been written of. Our local pioneers and the officers of the Revolutionary War, who commanded at Fort Pitt and our Revolutionary soldiers who located here either during that war or at its close have been mentioned; Neville, Craig, Denny, Marbury, Bayard and Hand are instanced. These, too, have been written officially.
One can pause for a moment when he comes across Boone alley and think of the slight commemoration of the noted frontiersman, Daniel Boone. So too Kenton alley, bringing to mind Boone's friend and comrade Simon Kenton. It is pleasant to know that Fate in ordering the trumpter [sic] Fame to sound their praises has done so elsewhere in more resonant and lasting notes than in Pittsburgh.
The commemoration of Gen. Zachary Taylor, twelfth president of the United States, was first given in the plan of Allegheny surveyed after the Mexican War and known as "New Mexico," the land owned by Gen. William Robinson. Taylor avenue in this plan is now Tarleton avenue. It may be taken that the name is fanciful and given as such. In American history Tarleton was a British officer commanding in the South under Lord Cornwallis during the revolution. It is to be presumed that no commemoration was intended. So, too, Jackson street, changed to Jarvella. So far history is silent as to "Jarve." However, both names have the prerequisites; each starts with the initial letter of the street name supplanted.
Taylor avenue remains the name of the street in the Bloomfield district. We read that Taylor avenue extends from Liberty avenue to Lorigan street, the latter formerly Laurel avenue, once the Skunk Hollow road. We can assume that the laurel clings now to Lorigan. Remember, also, what the immortal bard said about the rose by any other name and the scent arising from it. This does not apply to the hollow, for since Two-Mile Run was sewered more than 30 years ago the hollow has been good—its mephistic name fled at the approach of the laurel. The numerous houses that once held the numerous inhabitants of the hollow have gradually given way to the needs of the railroads.
Skunk Hollow, like its neighbor on the adjoining north hillside, Iron City Park, is now only a memory. But all this throws no light on Lorigan or the lost laurel. So old and well-known and well-loved names depart. In the late sixties and early seventies the denizens of the hollow never once thought that the name was a bad one, or a sad one or perhaps a loud one. It was the accepted name and it stuck until the fellow with the laurel came along and brushed it away.
How many houses were in the hollow? About 300 at one time, mainly near Thirty-third street. Now Lorigan as them all at the upper end, whose former distinguishing mark was a small brewery. Speaking of hillside and back-lot gardens, what's the matter with Lorigan?
We come now to the consideration of another class of names commemorated in Pittsburgh—great statesmen, orators, public men, men of great minds, great acts and great fame. Under this head we may mention Webster, Clay, Calhoun, Hamilton, Douglas, Benton, Addison, Corwin, Clayton, Wilkins, Gallatin, Randolph, Stanton, Tilden and Conkling.
Excepting Judges Addison's and Wikins' [sic], none of these have local fame. All are national. Their names then here have been applied to the uses made solely through the desire to honor the men. Some of the applications are so far from what they should be when the commemorated one is considered that one can only wonder at the poor taste shown.
For instance we have Clay way and Calhoun way—both alleys—the former an old name and figuring in print now mainly in police records. Many states have Clay counties and some cities Clay street. Pittsburgh has Clay way, which is not to be confounded with a muddy road. The way is paved and a block long.
Winfield Scott, like Clay, is widely honored on the bestowal of his name geographically. Pittsburgh has done so in a "way"—"Penn avenue to Duquesne way, formerly Scott alley." Nobody knows the name of old Scott street, but it likely begins with the letter "S."
Far better remembered are Alexander Hamilton, Edwin M. Stanton and Daniel Webster. We have their names attached to avenues. Douglas may be a local commemoration, or it may be intended for Stephen A. Douglas. The spelling suggests Lincoln's opponent in the ante-bellum days in their great canvass of Illinois when Douglas was successful and elected senator from that state, but bringing Lincoln into the limelight for all eternity.
To go into the records of these statesmen whose names are honored in our street names in the main would be to write biography. However, we can take one really great name and draw some lessons from it, especially as it has long been applied to one of our best-known thoroughfares.
Some recent names of local interest have been well applied. There is Brashear street, for instance, "Hastings street to city line"—no one can object to that. We may add that some old names are what may be termed "highfalutin'"—"Calliope alley" is certainly high-sounding. Then there is Vallejo street, taken from the California town of that name, commemorating a Mexican governor of the state prior to its coming under the jurisdiction and being made part of the United States. Let us hope the people on the street may be as successful in properly pronouncing the name as those dwelling on Hypolite street, North Side.
Looking south from The Gazette Times Building on Pentland street at Gazette Square a great highway appears close by, Bigelow boulevard, formerly extending from Seventh avenue eastward, but with that portion of Webster avenue from Tunnel street to Grant street added this boulevard begins at Grant street opposite Oliver avenue.
Webster avenue therefore begins at Tunnel street and extends to Jefferson street on Herron Hill. Some parts of Webster avenue are fairly good, when residential features are considered. Most of the thoroughfare is steep. The portion below Seventh avenue, widened a few years ago, and the grade cuts necessary by the "Hump" removal have practically changed the entire character of the avenue. Old Webster street, once Coal lane, is gone forever. It is a transformed thoroughfare. It is patched and modern. The widening at Fullerton street remains to awaken inquiry. The narrow portion above Fullerton street also remains in statu quo [sic] and is likely to remain so. Pages of matter have been printed concerning Webster avenue improvements. Taking the street as a whole the inquiry may be made: Could not Daniel have been better commemorated in Pittsburgh?
However, it is an old Pittsburgh street and has retained its original street name—that applied by an ordinance of Councils—we have that much to be thankful for. We may be glad also that we commemorate so great a name. Years ago, 50 at least, Pittsburgh school children were wont to read in Osgood's Third Reader, a book years out of print, that Ebenezer Webster, the father of Daniel, was a farmer and that Ezekiel Webster, Daniel's brother, had caught a woodchuck, known hereabouts as a groundhog, and was about to kill the critter when young Daniel, then a mere boy, constituted himself the counsel for the animal and made such a powerful plea for its life that the old man, with tears in his eyes, shouted: "Zeke! Zeke! You let that woodchuck go."
This was Young Daniel's first success as a pleader. Many Pittsburgh pupils in the public schools heard of Daniel for the first time when reading the woodchuck story. To be sure they had heard of, and many knew where, Webster avenue was but paid no more heed to the name than to Wylie avenue or any other street name.
The Revolutionary War was over when Daniel Webster was born at Salisbury, subsequently Franklin, N. H., January 18, 1782. He was graduated from Dartmouth College at the age of 19, paying a portion of his expenses by teaching school. After graduation he taught school for a while in Maine, studied law and was admitted to the bar in 1805. He soon become [sic] eminent, as a lawyer first at Portsmouth, N. H.
In 1813, when 31 years old he was first elected to Congress, serving two terms. He took a front rank in debate almost immediately. In 1816 he located in Boston. By his services in the Dartmouth College case he attained wide fame as a lawyer. This was one of the most celebrated cases in the history of American jurisprudence. The issue involved was whether the New Hampshire Legislature in amending the charter of Dartmouth College by statute had not passed a law, impairing the obligation of a contract. The case first went against the college, but Webster, chief counsel for the college, won on appeal to the Supreme Court of the United States. He who cares for the law can find the case reported in full in fourth Wheaton, page 681.
Following this case Webster had many cases in the Supreme Court of the United States, in the arguments of which he exhibited superior skill and ability. He became a member of the Massachusetts Constitutional Convention in 1820, and in 1823 again entered Congress. His first great speech there was on the Greek revolution. As chairman of the Judiciary Committee he effected measures for the complete revision of the criminal law of the United States.
Webster was the loyal friend of President John Quincy Adams who had been elected by the House of Representatives. Webster entered the Senate in 1827 and served until 1839. We can consider Webster from three sides, as a lawyer, a statesman and an orator, he excelled in each.
While in the Senate, Webster's most celebrated speech was in reply to Senator Robert Y. Hayne of South Carolina. This was delivered in 1832 and is yet the most complete and correct exposition ever given of the true powers and functions of the national government. Many a school boy has spouted parts of this speech, especially the most eloquent peroration ending with the words:
But everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea, and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens that other sentiment dear to every American heart—Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable!
The time came when this wonderful effort came into new life and stirred hearts in troublous times, but Webster was dead then.
Webster visited Europe in 1839. President W. H. Harrison appointed him Secretary of State in 1841, in which office he continued under President Tyler until May, 1843, when he signed [sic]. Tyler was too great a dose for a Whig such as Webster—in fact for the whole Whig party which went down to defeat in 1844 when Polk was elected, succeeded by Taylor and Fillmore in 1848 and died with Scott's candidacy in 1852.
Webster entered the Senate again in 1845. He strongly opposed the annexation of Texas and the war with Mexico. He supported the compromise measures of Clay in 1850 and thereby weakened his influence in the free states.
President Fillmore called him to his cabinet as secretary of state where he served with distinction until his death at Marshfield, Mass., October 24, 1852. Great orations of Webster's once well known were those delivered at the laying of the corner stone of the Bunker Hill monument, June 17, 1825, and upon completion of that monument, June 17, 1843. He may be said truthfully enough to have been America's foremost orator. He was one of the most famous Americans. There was no small side to Daniel Webster.
Years ago it was customary for political parties to publish magazines. Thus we have the American Review, a Whig Journal Devoted to Politics and Literature. From the issue of October, 1848, the picture of Millard Fillmore today is made from the fine steel engraving therein. Robert C. Winthrop's is from the engraving in the Review March, 1848, and President Taylor's from that in the issue of July, 1848; Webster's is from a steel engraving in the public document containing the obituary addresses delivered in Congress December 14 and 15, 1852. These were eloquent, pathetic and scholarly to a degree.
From the name Webster come sublime thoughts—ennobling thoughts. We can look upon the name nearby and recall pages of momentous history.
