MOSE THE FIREBOY: THE SLANG

As I have mentioned, one of the really pleasurable qualities of "Glance at New York" is that it serves as a sort of omnium-gatherum of slang of the era, quite a lot of it from the character Mose, and, presumably, an accurate representation of the Bowery Boy's distinctive cant, called Flash.

It's interesting to note that a few of Mose's phrase's read like dialect representation of an Irish accent — as an example, he says "I'll spile" for "I'll spoil" and says that he's "bilelin' over" for a fight when he means he's "boiling over."

I have gone through the script and made a list of the slang that appears there, with my best effort to define the slang, which involved pouring through old slang dictionaries, scouring old books for similar uses of the phrase, and just sussing out their meaning from context. What follows is a nearly comprehensive dictionary of the slang that appears in the play:

A dozen on the ventilator: A threat, possibly meaning "I will hit you a dozen times on the mouth," or "I will hit the person who is supposed to leave"

Ain't this high: Isn't this great

Bilelin' over: Very desirous of (boiling over)

Blinker: Black eye

Blow your horn: Sing

Bluff off: Rebuff

City pilot: Tour guide

Crib: Bar

Cross-grained: Irritable; hard to deal with

Cuttin' round: Making romantic overtures

Dog line: Confidence game involving kidnapping dogs and returning them for rewards

Dodge: Any con game

Drop game: A confidence trick in which the con artist persuades the victim to pay money for a useless item

Drubbing: Beating

Foo-foos: Newcomers; interlopers

Gallus: Terrific

Gas: Nonsense

Give fits: Beat up

His Knibbs: His royal highness (spoken of an affectedly superior person)

Hurry up your cakes: Speed up

I'm blowed: Exclamation of disbelief -- "I'm blowed if that ain't slap up!" 

Lam: Thrash

Lemons: Anything worthless

Loafer fire: False alarm

Mopuss: Money

Muss: Fight

Nuff ced: Enough said

Perfect brick: Utterly fearless

Piece of calico: Woman

Plump: Fight; strike

Prig: Steal

Prime: Great; terrific

Puddin'-head: A stupid person

Run wid der machine: Be part of a volunteer fire department (literally: run alongside a pump on wheels)

Shanty: Apartment; home

Shine: Romance, perhaps from "take a shine to"

Shiner: A bright piece of money

Show the Elephant: Show off the sights of a town

Slap up: Excellent

Slope: Exit; leave

Slung to: Married to

Smack: Kiss

Smoke: Exit quickly

Smug: Steal

Sore-eye: Party ("soiree")

Spile: Spoil

Stow your gab: Shut up

Take de butt: Hold the back of a portable water pump

Ticker: Pocket watch

Trotters: Feet or legs

Tuck up: To start, very similar to "tuck into"

What a swell I will cut: What a swagger I will effect

Wipe: Handkerchief

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MOSE THE FIREBOY: THE SCRIPT

The script for "A Glance at New York," the play that introduced the character of Mose the Fireboy, has survived.

Apparently none of the other Mose playscripts are available, although there may be some in private collections, but "Glance" is available through a script omnibus called "On Stage America!" edited by Walter J. Messerve, and various online dealers also offer their own printing. The play is long in the public domain, so anyone who wants to print up a copy and sell it may do so.

There are two things you should know about "A Glance at New York" at the outset: Firstly, it isn't a play so much as it is a series of comic episodes set around the Bowery neighborhood of mid-19th century New York. Secondly, Mose is not the main character.

In an early version of the play, he is reported to have barely appeared at all, but proved popular enough that the play was revised to include more of him. Additionally, characters that would become prominent in later Mose plays, such as his girlfriend Lize and his sidekick (and sometimes foil) Syksey, are mentioned in the play but barely appear.

The main character in "Glance" is George Parsells, a rube from Albany whose visit to New York includes repeatedly being fleeced by two local confidence artists. He has a frequently absent tour guide in the form of his friend Harry Gordon, a local with a yen for George's cousin, who is also in town.

Harry went to school with Mose, and so, a third of the way into the play, invites him on a series of hikinks. They dress in women's clothes and surreptitiously attend a woman's bowling alley, they go to a bar called Loafer's Paradise and start a fight, they attend a mock auction, and they go out to eat.

The primary comedy of the script is that George manages to get had everywhere he goes, with Mose often bailing him out by throwing punches. Oh, and at one point, Mose is handed an abandoned baby in a basket, whereupon he starts crying and declares that he will never abandon a baby in need.

There are a few elements of interest in this play. Firstly, it is genuinely funny -- when George and Harry first meet, Harry insists on getting them a carriage, despite the fact that they only plan to travel a block. But to walk would be out of fashion, and so Harry sets off to find a carriage. When he returns, much later in the scene, Harry complains that he had to walk two blocks to find a carriage. The play is filled with these sorts of small, absurd moments, the sort Oscar Wilde would later excel at, where following fashion or convention leads characters to ridiculous action.

Secondly, the play works as a sort of inventory of popular confidence games of the era, all committed by a team named Mike and Jake. There is a pocketwatch scam, a billfold scam, a tour guide scam, and even a scam involving convincing George that the flashing light atop Barnam's American Museum is comet.

The auction George attends is one enormous confidence game, where he finds himself purchasing an enormous quantity of costume jewelry without meaning to. My research into history has led me to believe that a large, if scarcely mentioned, part of the economy of tourist and commuter cities was fleecing hayseeds, and "A Glance at New York" is like a master class in how to separate a county naif from his money.

But, finally, there is Mose, and it is easy to see why he became such an iconic figure of the American stage during this era.

The play was written by a burlesque writer, and so is filled with the mannered conventions of the burlesque, including asides, interstitial songs, and broad comedy. But Mose was inspired by a genuine youth movement, members of who, as we have discovered, would have been in the theater's pit, watching how they were represented onstage and ready to make trouble if they didn't like what they saw.

As a result, Mose has a swaggering verisimilitude that feels, at times, documentary. His onstage language is a warehouse of slang and idioms of the era, and he talks in a way that sometimes sounds transcribed from interviews with Bowery Boys.

As an example, here is the famous monologue that introduced Mose, who is a butcher and volunteer firefighter, although he is thinking about giving up the latter:

I've made up my mind not to run wid der machine any more. There's that Corneel Anderson don't give de boys a chance. Jest 'cause he's Chief Ingineer he thinks he ken do as he likes. Now, last night when de fire was down in Front Street, we was a-takin' 40's water; I had hold ov de butt, and seed she was gittin' too much fer us; and I said to Bill Sykes: "Syksey, take de butt." Says he, "What fur?" Says I, "Never you mind, take de butt." And he took de butt; so I goes down de street a little, and stood on 40's hose. Corneel Anderson cum along and seed me. Seys he, "Get off de hose!" Seys I, "I won't get off de hose!" Seys he, "If you don't get off de hose, I'll hit you over de gourd wid my trumpet!" Seys I, "What! I won't get off de hose!" And he did hit me over de gourd!

I realize this requires translation, and I am not sure I know enough about volunteer firefighting in the mid 1800s to completely explain it. But "Syksey, take de butt!" became a catch phrase from the play, and is widely misunderstood now, even though it is still quoted, so I will do my best to explain.

When Mose says he is thinking about giving up running "wid der machine," he's literally talking about a machine -- a water pump on wheels, which groups of firemen would gather round, some in front, pulling, some at the back end, or "butt" end, pushing.

There's a common misapprehension that "take de butt" means "hold my cigar," but, as best as I can tell, Mose is telling his friend Syksey to take over his position at the back of the pump.

The problem is that they have attached their pump to water from a rival station, and too much water is flowing through the pump for it to be effective. So Mose goes and stands on the hose to slow the flow of water, getting him in trouble with a Colonel Anderson, who is either in charge of his company or a rival company.

Anderson carries a trumpet because, in the early days, this was how firemen signaled they were coming -- old fire pumps sometimes had fanfare-style trumpets tied to the front, so firemen could blast out warning toots as they ran down the street. Colonel Anderson demands that Mose get off the house, and, when Mose refuses, the Colonel hits him with the trumpet.

At least, this is how I understand it. Whatever is going on, the play has provided a snapshot of the experience of a volunteer fireman, and, as the actor who played the role of Mose, Franck Chanfrau, was a former volunteer fireman, I think we can assume that it represents the sort of experience that actual firemen had at the time.

There are frequent flashes of this sort of of verisimilitude throughout the script, which, after all, presents itself as an observer's representation of New York in 1848 (it's original title was "New York in 1848").

When Mose first appeared onstage, he was played by a man who shared Mose's experiences, and knew an actual Mose that he used as a template, and written by a man who knew that men just like Mose would be in the audience, and would rebel if they felt they were misrepresented. The play is exaggerated and comical, but rooted in fact, which is especially interesting.

The further we get from the first play, the further we get from reality. Mose started out as a real man, and as a realistic stage character; he would soon become increasingly fictionalized and exaggerated, finally becoming a tall tale, as we shall see.

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MOSE THE FIREBOY: THE PLAYWRIGHT

"A Glance at New York," the play that introduced the character Mose the Fireboy, is unusual for a play of its era, in that we have a fairly detailed account of its creation.

The account comes from Benjamin Baker, the playwright, and is included in a book called "An Interviewer's Album: Comprising a Series of Chats with Eminent Players and Playwrights," authored by the admirably named George Oberkirsh Seilhamer in about 1881.

Baker gives a brief account of his biography: He was born on Grand Street, and was forced to move when his father died when the boy was 10. He was apprenticed to a harness-maker, but he didn't like it and ran away.

He worked for a while as a clerk in New Orleans, and then, at 17, decided to become an actor. He joined a troupe in Natchez, Mississippi. He made his way back to New York, appearing at the Franklin Theater with Junius Brutus Booth, and then moved on the the Chatham Theatre. He was engaged to write a burlesque at the Olympic Theatre, which was a success, and many scripts soon followed.

And then comes Mose, as related:

[Baker states that] "The subjects of my dramatic efforts were mostly the follies of the day, and, of course, were not calculated to live."

"But Mose has lived," the interviewer interposed. "That piece made me a great gun," Mr. Baker answered, laughing, "and it made Chanfrau famous in a single night almost. I struck Mose in 1848. It was first played for my benefit in a little piece of mine afterwards called "A Glance at New York," but named for that night only "New York in 1848." Mr. Mitchell used to give us a week's notice of our benefits. Mary Taylor was ill, and I depended on Chanfrau for mine that season I had promised to write the part of a fire boy for him, and we thought that my benefit night would be a good time to try it. I made Mose a rough melon, but sweet at the core. In writing the piece I was afraid the Centre Market boys would take offense at it, and to satisfy them I put the pathos about the baby into it."

"Cornelius Mathews is under the impression that Mose was taken from his novel," the interviewer said, anxious to draw Mr. Baker out on this point, especially as Mr. John E. Owens had strenuously objected to Mr. Mathews' claim.

"I know that Mr. Mathews is under that impression," Mr. Baker replied; " indeed he has said the same thing to me, but it is a mistake. I had not read 'Puffer Hopkins' at the time I wrote 'A Glance at New York ' The only suggestions which were drawn from any extraneous source were the cellar scene and the part of Major Gates, the hint for which I took from '102 Broadway,' by William Henry Herbert. I never took the trouble to correct Mr. Mathews' mistake, and there are other claims in regard to the piece which are equally without foundation. For instance, I saw not long ago that one of the papers spoke of the death of the original of Mose — Mose Humphreys, who died recently in the Sandwich Islands. He always claimed to be the original, but I never thought of him either in writing or naming the part. Indeed, most of the parts were not named until after it was determined that the play should be called a 'Glance at New York,' and the piece, when it had been rewritten after its first production for my benefit, was not rechristened until it had been in rehearsal some time. Afterwards I wrote for the Chatham Theatre another piece with the character of Mose in it, which I called 'New York as It Is.' It was entirely different from a 'Glance at New York,' but it was in the same style."

"How about its production in Philadelphia?" the interviewer asked.

"Burton wanted to do the piece at the Arch Street Theatre, and he brought John E. Owens, who was his comedian, to the Olympic to see it. The house was so full that night that I had to give Owens a seat in the orchestra. After the performance Burton gave me $25, the usual price for pieces in those days — twenty- five dollars was a pile of money then — and I furnished him with a copy." 

There are a few things to discuss here. Firstly, we've had the mention of the Centre Market in New York a few times. This is a reference to a one-block street in lower Manhattan consisting of a variety of storefront businesses, including a gun shop, and Centre Market boys seem to be another term for Bowery B'hoys -- "Our Firemen, The History of the NY Fire Departments" mentions the Lady Washington fire crew, of which Mose Humpheys was one, and says that they "were a lively crowd, being composed mostly of Centre Market boys."

"The Golden Argosy," from 1885, did an article on Frank Chanfrau where they wrote that Mose was a "Centre Market 'B'hoy'" and added that "the Centre Market boys were the roughest and the toughest of the town, and in the theater pit they were a power. It was to them all the playing was done; their approval was worked for, and their disapproval was dodged ... that is, the eggs and vegetables."

There is a scene, mentioned by Baker above, which I will discuss when I summarize the play, in which Mose finds an abandoned child. "Argosy" mentions it as well:

The author felt some trepidation and anxiety as to how the Centre Market boys would receive a "take-off" of themselves, audaciously acted to their faces.

Chanfrau was stricken down with brain fever during rehearsals, two days before the event. A brother actor watched the patient and studied the part of "Mose," for fear the one for whom it was intended and who was stricken down, should not recover in time to appear. Chanfrau pulled through, though, and appeared on the appointed night as "Mose." The Centre Market boys were out in force. They received Mose with a coldness that boded no good to the piece, the actor and the author. But Mr. Baker had introduced an incident into the play that showed "Mose" as a rough with a warm spot hidden in his heart, and when this incident was arrived at it just melted the pit, and they shook the house with applause. 

George Oberkirsh Seilhamer also mentions an author named Cornelius Mathews, whose book "The Career of Puffer Hopkins" was supposed to have inspired Mose.

Mathews was a popular author who created a movement called "Young America," which was intended to prove that American literature was just as good as its European counterpart. Edgar Allen Poe might have agreed with the sentiment, but thought little of the author, writing of "Puffer Hopkins" that the books was "one of the most trashy novels that ever emanated from an American press." Depending on your tastes, this is either a condemnation or an irresistible  endorsement.

"Puffer Hopkins" is a satiric novel of New York politics, including bare-knuckled fire boys, but Baker dismisses any influence. Baker also refuses to credit Mose Humphreys, pointing out that the name of the character hadn't been chosen until shortly before the play opened -- this is repeated by Allston Brown's letter to the New York Times, who wrote that "The name of the principal character -- Mose -- was not given to it until the last rehearsal."

I think it is likely that Baker wrote his fire boy character without thinking of anyone in particular, and that actor Frank Chanfrau played the character with Humphreys as his model, as he always claimed.

There is only one influence that Baker will cop to, and that is "102 Broadway," by William Henry Herbert; presumably he means Henry William Herbert, another author Poe had no use for, calling his writing "woefully turgid."

It's hard to know what Baker is referencing here, as I can't locate anything written by Herbert called "102 Broadway," but it is possible that Baker simply means that a character he authored, Major Gates, was actually inspired by Herbert, who lived on Broadway. The character of Major Gates is English, like Herbert, and is likewise woefully turgid.

Benjamin Baker would continue to write, but spent most of his career as a theater manager and as the assistant secretary of the Actor's Fund, until he died of a stroke in 1890.

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MOSE THE FIREBOY: THE ACTOR

We've met Mose Humphreys, the tall, red-headed Bowery Boy who inspired Mose the Fireboy. And we have heard tell that there was a fight once, between Humphreys and another firefighter named Hen Chanfrau. We heard that during this fight, Hen's younger brother Frank stood by and cheered.

This is Frank's story, and the story of how he created a stage character that became a fad in his lifetime and a legend afterward.

Let's begin with a brief summary of his life, as recalled by the New York Times in an obituary of the actor, dated October 3, 1884:

He was born on the 22ns of February, 1824, on the corner of the Bowery and Pell street, in the fifth ward of this city. The tenement in which he first saw light was the historic "The Old Tree House." He was taught the rudiments in city schools. His father, who kept a famous eating house, failed, and, being compelled to support himself, Frank went westward and learned the ship carpenter's trade on the shores of the great lakes. While still a lad he was a member of the "Dramatic Institute," an amateur theatrical organization which used to attempt Shakespearean performances in the old Franklin Theatre. This connection procured for him the acquaintance of some theatrical folk, if it had no better result, and when  he returned from the West, without employment, he obtained a place as a "helper" on the stage of the Bowery Theatre. In those days, he was a member of the Volunteer Fire Department, and ran with Engine No. 15 -- the "Old Maid." He developed remarkable mimetic powers while working at the theatre, and was wont to imitate Tom Hamblin, the manager of the Bowery; the elder Booth, Forrest, who was a rising star, and the other celebrated actors. Hamblin heard of his ability and gave him a position as utility man in the company. Here he remained, taking the first steps of his profession, for some years, and afterward he joined the company of the Park Theatre, where he was considered a promising young actor. It was not until he appeared at Mitchell's Olympic as Jerry Clip, the versatile barber, in "A Widow's Victim," that Chanfrau's name became familiarly known. That performance was highly amusing and ingenious. Soon after Chanfrau joined Mitchell's companyMr. Ben Baker, the stage manager of that house, hastily wrote a sketch entitled "A Glance at New-York in 1848," which was produced for Mr. Baker's benefit on Feb. 15 of that year. In it Mr. Chafrau appeared as Mose. The following April he became a partner, with Mssrs. Halsey and Ewen, in the management of the Chatham-Street Theatre. For a number of years thereafter he played Mose at Mitchell's, and on the same nights appeared also at the Chatham-Street in the same character. The Chatham-Street piece was called "New York As It Is," and was also written by Mr. Baker. Chanfrau's Mose outlived both of these trifling plays, and figured also in "The Mysteries and Miseries of New-York," "Three Years and after," "Mose Married," and "Mose in California." 

Mose made Chanfrau. The play was a mere sketch, and the Bowery b'hoy was its most conspicuous though not its only striking character, for Lize and Sikesey were both acknowledged types of the low life in New-York. Chanfrau caught the mannerisms and speech of the good-natured New-York rowdy, a type which has long since given way to the transplanted product of the criminal hatcheries of the Old World, and presented a picture at once accurate and amusing.

For those who didn't catch it, Chafrau came to the attention of theater producers for his skill at impersonating established actors, including "the elder Booth." They are speaking here of Junius Brutus Booth, the father of John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated Lincoln.

Chanfrau experienced a long career downturn after his remarkable success as Mose, and his career didn't enjoy a resurgence until 1868, when he created the role of Kit in "The Arkansas Traveler," a revenge tragedy set in the American frontier. He played the role 300 times, traveling with it throughout America. According to the Times obituary, he grew bitter in his old, and gained considerable weight, in part because of rheumatism, which contributed to his death by stroke.

My previous piece on Mose Humphries told two stories of Chandrau's youthful encounters with the basis for his Mose character, but I have found one more that claims that the actor actively sough out Humphries and studied him while preparing for the role. It's from a rather odd book called "My Angling Friends: Being a Second Series of Sketches of Men I Have Fished with," author by Fred Mather in 1801, and is exactly what it claims to be: A collection of memories of people that Mather has caught fish with.

One of these men was author Ned Buntline, who used Mose as a character in his novels, which we will come to. But in his discussion of Buntline, Mather writes the following:

F. S. Chanfrau made a great hit in his character of Mose, a soap-locked, red-shirted volunteer fireman, who always wore a plug hat on one side of his head and held a cigar tilted up at an acute angle. The play furnished popular quotations of firemen's talk, and we schoolboys would quote: "Sykesy, take de butt" and "Get off dem hose or I'll hit yer wid a spanner" etc. Mose was our hero about 1850, and now as I go through Centre street on my way to the Forest and Stream office, I stop each week and look in the window of No. 20 at a picture of Chanfrau as Mose, disgustedly saying: "I'm bound not to run wid der machine any more." Five old-timers were in the City Hall by invitation of Martin J. Keese, an old fire laddy, to meet me and talk of Ned Buntline, and when I mentioned this picture they went to see it. "It's like a glimpse of the old days," said Keese, "to see that picture, but it's sad to think of the descent from Mose to Chimmie Fadden. Ned Buntline took the character of Mose from Mose Humphrey — you remember him, Jake? He ran with old 40 engine and got licked in every fight he went into. Chanfrau spent weeks studying Mose and made up just like him." And then these old "boys" became reminiscent of fires, fights, Harry Howard and other chiefs, and I enjoyed their enthusiasm as they lived their lives over again.

As you'll see, once we start discussing the play itself, there is considerable reason to believe that New York's volunteer firemen didn't think much of the character of Mose. At the same time, there are quite a few who say, as with the Times obituary, that Chanfrau's performance was notably authentic.

I expect both are true. There's no reason to think that Chanfrau, who was born in the same neighborhood as Mose, was himself a volunteer firefighter, was acclaimed for his skills with mimicry, and had met Mose on several occasions and had perhaps studied him for weeks, would not be able to produce an authentic portrait of a brawling fireboy onstage.

But as the character of Mose became an inspiration to a new generation of Bowery Boys, there is every reason to think that volunteer firemen might not appreciate that this trouble making streetfighter had come to represent them.

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MOSE THE FIREBOY, AN INTRODUCTION

I am going to do a short series of posts specifically about the mythic figure of Mose the Fireboy. Up front, I should mention that I have no evidence that Mose was Irish-American, either in history or in fiction. I have yet to find any source that identifies any ethnicity at all.

There are hints of possible Irishness here and there, and I will point them out when they appear, but nothing definitive. Nonetheless, we Irish-Americans have claimed him.

Just to offer a quick overview, Mose the Fireboy has had several incarnations, and I intend to look at all of them. He was a historic figure named Mose Humphreys, a printer and volunteer fireman. The original Mose became the model for a character named Mose in a play called "A Glance at New York," a slang-slinging, pugilistic butcher-firefighter who then starred in a series of popular plays.

The character of Mose was picked up by dime novels, mostly by Ned Buntline, where he was the leader of the street-fighting Bowery B'hoys. He was elevated to a mythic, folkloric figure of tall tales in Herbert Asbury's "Gangs of New York," and, over the course of the 20th century, turned into a sort of tall tale character, like Paul Bunyan. Finally, he was undoubtedly a primary inspiration for Bill the Butcher in the "Gangs of New York," along with William Poole, a butcher and bareknuckle boxer.

I will begin with Mose Humphreys, who is directly credited as the inspiration for Mose the Fireboy. Wikipedia offers an entry on the man, but it's one of those entries where, when you try to track down the sources, they are all contemporary and they all quote each other. So let's go to some sources that are closer to primary and see what we know about him.

Theater critic Alston Brown wrote a letter to the New York Times in 1902, years after the character of Mose the Fireboy had debuted on the stage, giving a belated but detailed account of the origin of the character. I will quote the letter more when I discuss the play, but I want to mention the facts it offers as to the inspiration behind Mose. "Mose Humphrey was a popular Centre market lad," Brown wrote, "and was a member of Martha Washington Engine Company."

Later, Brown adds the story about the actor who played Mose, Frank Chanfrau, first discovering the character:

He lived near Essex Market with his parents, and daily dropped in at a Broadway house, corner of Grand street, to get a sixpenny plate of corned beef. One day a fellow with a red shirt and open collar came in and sat down near him. The swagger, the 'soap locks,' the projected chin, &c., formed a strong typical figure. Calling to one of the waiters, he said: 'Look heah! Give me a sixpenny plate ev pork and beans and don't stop to count them beans, d'ye heah?' This was Mose Humphreys, one of the fireboys, and a printer employed on Beach's Sun."

Now, this was written decades after the event it describes, but it gives us enough to start to dig. Firstly, we must ask if there is any documentary evidence of Mose Humphreys, fireboy and printer. There were city directories from the era, and I found at least one person had located a Moses Humphreys who had been a textile worker, but the listing predated the time of our fireboy. So I dug a little, and behold:

Humphreys, Moses C., printer, and probably our fireboy.

This is from the 1839 edition of Longworth's American almanac, New-York register and city directory, and it seems likely that this is our Mose. It is, after all, hardly a common name, and the likelihood that there were two Mose Humphreys working as printers in the same era in New York is passingly rare.

I should note that we will see his name written as both Humphrey and Humphreys (as happened in the NY Times article). This is both maddening and entirely common for the era, where people seemed to take their names as mere suggestions, and might offer up a different spelling or version every single time they were asked.

Let me note here that, while Humphreys isn't a uniquely Irish last name (and seems to be French in origin), it is common enough in Ireland, having been the surname for politician Francis Humphreys, rugby player Ian Humphreys, and activist Sheila Humphreys.

Mose's address in this listing is interesting -- 111 Mulberry, with Mulberry being one of the boundary streets for the largely Irish Five Points neighborhood. It was also just a few blocks off Bowery, making the story of seeing Mose in a bowery eatery entirely credible, as well as his identification as a Bowery B'hoy.

Brown's letter to the Times also insisted that Mose had been a volunteer firefighter with the "Martha Washington Engine Company," which is ... close. There was a volunteer fire department called the "Lady Washington Engine Company," number 40, located then at 173 Elm Street, which now is 185 Lafayette Street -- a few blocks from Mose's address, and a block off Bowery. If only there was somebody who might remember Mose from those days.

What have we here? It's an 1887 collection of memories of the early years of the New York fire departments, titled "Our Firemen" and authored by Augustine Costello. And, as it happens, the firemen remember Mose. He appears a few times in the book, starting with this passage:

One of the queer characters of the old days was "Rooster Kelly," who used to run with Engine No. 30. He was remarkable for the tall stories he used to tell, and for the interesting way he had of making them appear truthful. Years after the disbandment of the Volunteer Department, he related the following story about ''Old Mose:" "Mose ran with old Forty. He keeps a billiard saloon in Honolulu now. I kin remember the night him and Orange County — he was our foreman — had it nip and tuck. They were both bully boys, but Orange County kinder got the bulge on him after a four hours' tussle. One might, Orange County, Mose and me, Tom Hyer, Captain Tom Reeves, and Alick Hamilton, were down in Hob Wanamaker's saloon, corner of Reade Street and Broadway, when the fire bell rang. The fire was down in Wall Street. Just after he got there, somebody threw a stone out of the third story window of the house next door to the fire. Well, that stone struck Orange County on the shoulder, bounced off, and struck the rooster that was standing next to him handling a bucket, and killed him deader'n a door nail."

Moses Humphrey, or "Old Mose," as he was called, was the typical "Bowery boy," whom Frank Chanfrau, the actor and fireman, caricatured in his famous play. " Mose" belonged to Engine 40 (Lady Washington). Chantrau's impersonation was not pleasing to the majority of firemen, who regarded it as a libel upon themselves. America's Own, or the Fireman's Journal, of which Anthony B. Child was the editor, took the actor severely to task. By the way, it was in this paper that Maggie Mitchell received her first notice at her debut at the Bowery Theater. The Journal praised Chanfrau as an actor, but added : "It is ridiculous to attempt to make a part out of such a character as Mose is represented to be. His benevolence, and the clap-trap manoeuvres of the stage, are all sham. The effect of this character upon the juveniles who visit the theater is plainly visible, as they take every opportunity to imitate the character. Its effects upon the Fire Department are serious, in the estimation of those who are not acquainted with its members, as they set every fireman down as a 'Mose,' degrading to youth." 

Let's note for a moment that  Costello claims that Mose moved to Honolulu. It comes up again, a few pages later:

No. 40 ("Lady Washington") housed in Mulberry Street, near Grand. Her foreman and assistant foreman were Joseph Primrose and John Carlin, brother of William Carlin, who subsequently owned and kept the hotel on Fourteenth Street, opposite Mary's. Among the most conspicuous of her lighting men were: Mose Humphreys, a type setter (afterwards the prototype already referred to of Chanfrau's Mose in a "Glance at New York"), who died in the Sandwich Islands, where he had married a native woman, and reared a large family of young natives; and Jim Jeroloman, a shipbuilder, six feet four inches tall, who wore earrings, and who challenged "Yankee" Sullivan to a prize fight, but was easily beaten.

We'll return to that in a bit, but first, a story from the book about Mose's fighting. The various volunteer fire departments had a tendency toward competition and violence, and this resulted in a battle between two departments, as described:

The most conspicuous opponents at the other end of the line were Hen Chanfrau and Mose Humphreys. Both were pure-blooded Americans and men of noted bravery. At the crisis of their little difficulty, when victory appeared somewhat uncertain on whose gladiatorial arm to perch, a handsome bright-eyed lad of twelve years ran quickly out of Alvord's hat store, in which he had acted as clerk, and nimbly mounting an awning-post, shouted down to one of the combatants, who had just then pressed his antagonist backward over the tongue of 40 engine, and was pounding him very industriously, "Give it to him, Hen; Julia is looking at you from the window ! Don't choke him ; give him a chance to holler enough!" This nimble and encouraging youngster was Frank Chanfrau; and Mose Humphreys, who presently chorussed Frank's advice with a hearty acknowledgment of defeat, was to suggest to the then comedian in embryo a type of character which won him a double fortune and an enduring fame.

The fight lasted about thirty minutes. It resulted in the total defeat of No. 40, who abandoned their apparatus and fled precipitately. The victorious 15, determined to humiliate their antagonists in the most bitter manner known to the Volunteer firemen of that day, seized the captured engine — which was beautifully painted in white and gold — dragged it to a pump, and deluged it with water. They held possession of it for hours, but finally released it to John Carlin. They, however, refused to permit any of  "40's fellows" to enter their bailiwick, and the latter were made to suffer the additional mortification of seeing their beloved "Lady Washington" drawn home from the scene of heir defeat at the tail of a cart. This notable battle terminated hostilities between 15 and 40.

So, according to this tale, Mose the Fireboy, the brawling king of the bowery, was actually badly beaten in a fight against another fireboy, who was none other than the older brother of actor Frank Chanfrau, who during the fight urged his brother on and later won fame playing the loser of that battle.

The book offers one last look at Mose, offering this tale of his fate:

Whether it was David Garthwaite or John Carland, who had 40's trumpet that night the writer is uncertain but Mose Humphrey had the head of the rope. Old firemen recollect Mose--not the Mose represented on the stage by Frank Chanfrau, who pulled on 15's rope, but Mose Humphrey of Lady Washington Engine Company No. 40. He was tall and slender, had red hair, and could hold his own well, express himself forcibly when excited, and down many a heavier weight; but it was his pride to be at the head of 40's rope. The last heard of Mose he was at Honolulu, Sandwich Islands. The King took a fancy to Mose and doubtless listened attentively to his narration's of fire life among the boys in New York, and the exploits of Old Hays, A. M. C. Smith, Prince John Davis, Bowyer, Stanton, Matsell, and others prominent in police history before the era of stars or blue coats and brass buttons, not excepting the M. P.'s of Mayor Harper's reign. Mose was made chief of police, and was never timid about going in himself when occasions required. No Sandwich Islander or imported tough had any terrors for Mose; he could lay them out without turning a hair, and give Captain Williams points how to deal with a crowd without being euchred. He had been educated among the New York boys who struck straight out from the shoulder, at a period when a knife or a pistol was never dreamed of being used. Their motto was "go in if you get squeezed." And they went in every time. Mose became owner of a hotel, and was looked upon as one of the solid citizens, but he never went back on the "White Ghost."

The book insists Mose wound up in Honolulu. Is that possible?

Maybe it is!

Here we have a record of one Moses Humphreys, US citizen, being naturalized in Hawaii on September 20 of 1850. And what's more, the Hawaiian Gazette offered up a story about Mose the Fireboy in September 6, 1871, with this biographical passage about Mose Humphreys:

Mose Humprheys seemed to feel a sort of paternal interest in the play. He went regularly to the Olympic, and having cut his name on the wooden bench in the pit to designate his seat, was in the habit of outsing all other claimants without ceremony. He died in Honolulu several years ago, and it is said he retained the "Mose" characteristics to the last.

[Mose Humphreys came to Honolulu in 1850, in a New Bedford whaler, and for several years kept a sailor's boarding house. In the early days of the fire department, Mose was a member of engine company No. 1, but reassigned after a few year's service as the duties of a fireman here were not exciting enough to suit him. He was a perfect encyclopedia on sporting events, and during his residency here kept himself thoroughly posted on matters connected with the "fancy," the New York Clipper being his favorite oracle. Mose had satisfaction on several occasions if witnessing the character, of which he himself was the original, represented on the stage of the Royal Hawaiian Theatre, the play having been produced there for the first time in 1856, by L.F. Beatty, J.S. Townsend, and others, with the former as "Mose." The proclivities of Mose, as a member of the "fancy," made him prominent but once here; and that was during the visit of "Yankee Sullivan." With this exception, he was one of the most quiet characters in town, his eccentricities only making him noted. He worked in the Advertiser occasionally, and also in the Old Mission bindery, being both a book binder and printer. A short time previous to his death he went to Maui, where he became a farmer on a small scale. He returned to this city and finally died in the Queen's Hospital in 1864.]

Here's a photo of Honolulu engine company No. 1 from the period when Mose Humphreys would have been a member.

Could one of these bold-looking fellows be Mose?

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