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TRANSPORTATiu.^ 
UBRARY 

OR 


DR.  C.  L.  BELL 


Tnntportatfon 
Library 


Oft 


\>.^>^' 


The  Kitchen  in  Washington's  Headquarters  at 

Morristown,  New  Jersey. 

From  a  Photograph  by  Parker,  Morristown. 


;{>*«^-*-» '-  w-  '^. 


Old  Roads  from  the 
Heart  of  New  York 

Journeys  Today  by 
Ways   of  Yesterday 

Within  Thirty  Miles  Around  the  Battery 

By 
Sarah   Gomstock 


With  100  Illustrations  by  the  Author  and  Others 


TRANSFORTA'i'ION    LIBRA  KV' 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and  London 

Zbc    *Rn(cftetbocfter    prc06 

1915 


Copyright,  1915 

BY 

SARAH    COMSTOCK 


Ube  Iftnfcfterbocfecr  |>res0, 1ftcw  Igorfe 


L.  S.  C. 


THE  SEARCHLIGHT 

PICTURE  a  searchlight  installed  at  the  Bat- 
tery, revolving,  swinging  its  rays  forth 
from  the  heart  of  New  York,  and  flinging  them 
upon  historic  spots  for  thirty  miles  around. 
Like  the  circuit  of  rays  from  that  central  light, 
so  ferries  and  roads,  old  and  new,  darted  and 
still  dart  in  all  directions. 

These  chapters  have  attempted  to  follow  ap- 
proximately some  of  the  most  familiar  of  the 
old  ferries  and  roads,  although  the  new  courses, 
for  the  most  part,  but  roughly  correspond  to 
the  ways  of  yesterday.  Changes  develop  in 
the  cotirse  of  every  road.  No  attempt  has  been 
made  to  trace  the  old  routes  of  land-  and  water- 
travel  precisely.  But  we  may  follow  their 
general  direction,  and  arrive  at  the  same  villages 
and  other  historic  spots  at  which  they  arrived. 

To  the  New  York  Times  I  am  indebted  for 
permission  to  reprint  those  chapters  which  first 
appeared  in  that  publication,  having  since  been 
expanded  and  rearranged.  Chapters  I,  XXII, 
and  XXIII  have  never  before  b  en  published. 

If  I  could  name  all  the  persons  to  whom  I  am 


vi  THe  SearcHli^Ht 

indebted  for  assistance  in  collecting  material 
and  locating  landmarks,  my  thanks  would  de- 
scribe a  circle  of  thirty  miles  around  New 
York.  Among  them  I  wish  to  acknowledge 
especial  indebtedness  to  the  Rev.  Andrew  M. 
Sherman  of  Morristown;  Col.  J.  C.  L.  Hamilton 
of  Elmsford;  Dr.  Frank  Bergen  Kelley  of  the 
City  History  Club  of  New  York;  librarians  of  the 
New  York  City  Public  Library,  Departments  of 
Genealogy,  American  History,  and  Maps,  and 
of  the  Jackson  Square  Branch;  of  the  New  York 
Society  Library  and  the  New  York  Historical 
Society;  of  the  New  Jersey  Historical  Society 
(in  Newark)  and  of  the  Long  Island  Historical 
Society  (in  Brooklyn);  curators  of  the  Staten 
Island  Association  of  Arts  and  Sciences;  and 
librarians  in  the  public  libraries  of  Jamaica, 
Flushing,  Elizabeth,  Plainfield,  Bound  Brook, 
Morristown,  Passaic,  Paterson,  Tarrytown, 
White  Plains,  and  New  Rochelle. 

The  many  reference  works  used  are  named  in 
the  Bibliography.  For  much  of  the  study  of 
Long  Island,  Thompson's  history  has  ftirnished 
a  basis,  as  has  Clute's  for  that  of  Staten  Island 
and  Bolton's  for  that  of  Westchester  County. 
Lossing's  Pictorial  Field-Book  of  the  Revolution 
has  supplied  countless  minor  details  which  other 
voltmies  omit.  The  story  of  Andre's  capture, 
traced  on  both  sides  of  the  Hudson  River, 
follows  in  the  main  the  account  given  by  Fiske 


THe  SearcKli^Kt  vii 

in  his  American  Revolution.^  Among  the  books 
which  have  been  of  especial  assistance  in  detailed 
study  where  history  is  either  meager  or  confused, 
are:  The  Greatest  Street  in  the  World,  The  Old 
Boston  Post  Road,  and  The  Story  of  the  Bronx, 
by  Stephen  Jenkins;  Historical  Guide  to  the 
City  of  New  York,  compiled  by  Frank  Bergen 
Kelley;  Historic  Houses  of  New  Jersey,  by  W. 
Jay  Mills;  New  York:  Old  and  New,  by  Rufus 
Rockwell  Wilson;  Half -Moon  Papers,  Second 
Series;  Israel  Putnam,  by  William  Farrand 
Livingston;  Memorial  History  of  Staten  Island, 
by  Ira  K.  Morris;  also,  The  Country  Thirty 
Miles  around  the  City  of  New  York,  a  map  by 
I.  H.  Eddy,  1828,  in  the  New  York  City 
Public  Library. 

S,  C. 

New  York,  April,  191 5. 

'The  extracts   on  pages  75,  76,  and  245-248  are  reprinted  by 
permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTORY 

PAGE 

I. — How  THE  New  Yorker  of  Yesterday 

Set  Forth  on  his  Journey  .        3 

EASTWARD  INTO  LONG  ISLAND 

II. — The  Jamaica  and  Jericho  Turnpike.       19 

III. — To  Astoria  and  Flushing  .         .       35 

IV. — Dutch  Homesteads  on  the  Way  to 

Flatlands 48 

V. — Over  the  Battleground  of  Long 
Island  in  the  Footsteps  of 
Putnam 62 

TOWARD   THE  SOUTH 

VI. — The  Highlands  and  Sandy  Hook      .       79 

VII. — On  Staten  Island  to  Oude  Dorp      .      96 

VIII.— To  Old  Richmond      .         .         .         .110 

IX. — From  Tottenville  to  Perth  Amboy      124 


X  Contents 

WESTWARD  INTO  NEW  JERSEY 

PAGB 

X. — Newark,  a  Turnpike  Center    .         .139 

XI. — Elizabeth,  and  the  King's  Highway     155 

XII. — With  the  Stagecoach  to  Plainfield, 

AND  ON  TO  Bound  Brook    .         .174 

XIII. — By  the  Old  Turnpike  to  Morristown    189 

XIV. — A  Voyage  up  the  Passaic  .         .     206 

XV. — ^Along  the  Palisades         .         .         .     220 

NORTH— FROM  THE  SHORES  OF  THE  HUDSON  TO  LONG 
ISLAND  SOUND  AND  EAST  RIVER 

XVI. — In  Andre's  Footsteps  to  Tappan     .     237 

XVII. — Beside  the  Hudson  to  Sleepy  Hollow  252 

XVIII. — The  Sawmill  River  Road  .         .         .  273 

XIX. — With  the  Post  to  White  Plains      .     290 

XX. — Along  the  Old  Boston  Post  Road  .     305 

XXI. — To  Throg's  Neck  and  City  Island  .     323 

BACK   TO  THE  HEART  OF  NEW   YORK 

XXII. — Old  Manhattan         ....     343 

XXIII. — The  Great  Artery — Broadway         .     358 

ITINERARIES 

XXIV. — Easy  Routes   for   the  Traveler   of 

To-day 375 


Contents  xi 

LONG  ISLAND 

PAGE 

I . — To  Jericho.    (Jamaica,  Hollis,  Hempstead, 

Woodbury) 375 

2. — To  Astoria  and  Flushing.     (East  River 

AND  Hallett's  Point)         .         .         .     376 

3. — To  Flatlands.     (Through  Flatbush)       .     376 

4. — Over  the  Battleground  of  Long  Island. 

(Brooklyn) 376 

NEW  YORK  HARBOR  AND  SANDY  HOOK  REGION 

5. — The  Highlands.     (Chapel  Hill,  Navesink, 

Water  Witch) 377 

STATEN  ISLAND  AND  BEYOND 

6. — To  OuDE  Dorp.     (Quarantine,  Ft.  Wads- 
worth,  Arrochar)      ....     377 

7. — To  Richmond.     (Through  New  Dorp)      .     378 

8. — Tottenville  and  Perth  Amboy  .     378 

NEW  JERSEY 

9. — Newark 378 

10. — Elizabeth  and  Beyond.     (Rahway,  Wood- 
bridge,  New  Brunswick)  .         .         .     379 

II. — Plainfield  and  Bound  Brook  .         .     379 


xii  Contents 

PAGE 

12. — To  Springfield  and  Morristown     .         .     380 

13. — To  Passaic  and  Paterson  (Returning  by 

Weehawken)      .         .         .         .         .380 

14. — To  Alpine,  Fort  Lee,  and  Hackensack.     380 


ROCKLAND   CO.,   NEW   YORK 
15. — Sneden's  Landing  and  Tappan         .         .381 


WESTCHESTER    COUNTY,    NEW    YORK,    AND    INTO 
CONNECTICUT 

16. — Along  the  Hudson  to  Sleepy  Hollow. 
(Hastings,   Dobbs  Ferry,   Irvington, 

AND    TaRRYTOWN)  .  .  .  .       381 

17. — On  the  Sawmill  River  Road.     (Yonkers, 

Ardsley,  Elmsford)  .         .         .     382 

18. — To  White  Plains  by  Way  of  Scarsdale. 

(TUCKAHOE,  HaRTSDALE)        .  .  .       382 

19. — The  Boston  Post  Road.  (Eastchester, 
New  Rochelle,  Mamaroneck,  Rye, 
Greenwich,  Cos  Cob         .         .         .     383 

THE  BRONX 

20. — Throg*s   Neck  and   City   Island.     (Also 

Hunt's  Pt.  and  Clason  Pt.       .         .     383 


Contents  xiii 
MANHATTAN 

PAGE 

21. — Old  Manhattan 384 

22. — Broadway         ......  384 

Bibliography 385 

Index    ........  393 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

The  Kitchen  in  the  Morris  House,  Morris- 
town,  N.  J.  .  .  .  .      Frontispiece 

Cannon  at  Hollis,  near  the  Spot  where  Wood- 
hull  was  Captured       .....       22 

A  Tablet  on  the  School  Building  at  Hollis, 
Placed  by  Sons  of  the  American  Revolution 
in  Honor  OF  WooDHULL  ....       22 

King's  Park,  Jamaica,  once  the  Grounds  of 
RuFusKiNG 23 

St.  George's  Church,  Hempstead,  One  of  the 
Earliest  Parishes  on  Long  Island  .         .       30 

The  Mansion  once  Belonging  to  Rufus  King, 
Jamaica 30 

The  Tavern  at  Hollis,  in  which  Woodhull  was 
Captured     .         .         .         .         .         .         .31 

St.  George's  Church — the  New  Building — 
Flushing 38 

The  Bowlder  Marking  the  Spot  where  George 
Fox  Preached 38 

A  Fine  Type  of  Well-Preserved  Old  Building, 
ONCE  THE  Flushing  Institute         ...      39 


xvi  Ill\istrations 

PAGE 

The  Friends'  Meeting-House  in  Flushing, 
Erected  IN  1694  .....       42 

The  Old  Home  of  the  Prince  Family,  Flushing, 
THE  Grounds  were  once  Included  in  the 
LiNN^AN  Botanical  Gardens,  the  First 
Nursery  in  America    .....       42 

The  Great  Horse-Chestnut  Tree  at  the  Head 
OF  Fox  Lane,  beside  the  Bowne  House, 
Flushing 43 

St.  George's  Church — the  Old  Building — 
Flushing,  in  which  the  Manuscript  Sermons 
OF  THE  Rev.  Thos.  Poyer  are  Preserved.         .       46 

A  Corner  of  the  Bowne  House,  Flushing        .       46 

The  Bergen  Homestead  ....       47 

The  Old  Lefferts  Homestead  in  Flatbush       .       47 

Church  of  the  Early  Dutch  Settlers  in  Flat- 
bush     52 

Old  Well,  Philipse  Manor      ....       52 

Erasmus  Hall  High  School  To-day,  Built 
about  the  Old  Erasmus  Hall  Academy.  The 
Original  School  Founded  in  1787.  .         .       53 

The  Old  Dutch  Church  of  Flatlands,  Or- 
ganized 261  Years  Ago  ....       58 

The  Maryland  Monument  on  Lookout  Hill, 
Marking  the  Site  of  the  Battle  of  Long 
Island  .......       58 

Where  the  Prospect  Park  Swan  Boat  now 
Plies,  the  Din  of  Battle  once  was  Heard  .       59 


Ill\istrations  xvii 


The  Battle  Pass  Tablet  in  Prospect  Park, 
Marking  the  Outer  Line  of  Defense  in  i  776        59 

The  Monument  to  Civil  War  Heroes  in  Green- 
wood Cemetery    ......       66 

The  Civil  War  Soldiers*  and  Sailors'  Arch  at 
the  Entrance  to  Prospect  Park  ...       66 

The  View  from  Lookout  Hill,  where  Mary- 
land's Four  Hundred  Made  their  Great 
Defense  IN  1776  (Prospect  Park)  .         .         .       67 

Miss  Matilda  Hall's  House,  where  the  Se- 
cessionist Hung  his  Flag  out  until  he  was 
Raided,  (Chapel  Hill)  ....       74 

Martyrs'  Monument,  Fort  Greene  Park         .      75 

The  Place  of  Worship  from  which  Chapel 
Hill  Took  ITS  Name 75 

Cornelius  Mount's  Inn,  where  the  Duel 
Challenge  was  Spoken  in  Verse    ...       84 

The  Village  Smithy  Containing  the  Ancient 
Anvil,  AT  Chapel  Hill  ....       85 

The  Old  Leonard  House  at  Leonardo     .         .      85 

Chapel  Hill  Lighthouse,  Government  Range 
Light,  224  Feet  above  the  Sea,  Commanding 
One  of  the  most  Remarkable  Views  of  New 
York  Harbor        ......       94 

From  a  photograph  by  George  Wright. 

The  Old  Vanderbilt  House,  where  the  Commo- 
dore Spent  his  Boyhood         ....       94 


xviii  lUxxstratioxis 

PAGE 

The  Village  Blacksmith  at  Chapel  Hill         .      95 

Photograph  by  A.  R.  Coleman. 

The  Public  Museum  of  St.  George,  where  many 
Valuable  Historic  Relics  are  Shown     .         .     104 

The  Old  Planters'  Hotel,  the  Resort  of 
Wealthy  Southerners  almost  a  Century 
Ago,  ON  Bay  Street,  Staten  Island         .         .     104 

The  Only  Building  Left  of  the  Ancient 
Quarantine.  Others  Burned  by  Citizens  in 
1858.     Near  St.  George  Ferry       .         .         .     105 

The  Garibaldi  House,  Staten  Island      .         .105 

The  Cortelyou  Homestead  at  New  Dorp        .     114 

The  Moravian  Church  at  New  Dorp       .         .114 

The  Old  Richmond  Court-House     .         .         .115 

The  Old  Perrine  Homestead,  Dongan  Hills  .     115 

St.  Andrew's  Church       .....     122 

Photograph  by  F.  M.  Simonson. 

Cockloft  Hall  of  ''Salmagundi  Papers''         .     122 

A  Bridge  in  the  Japanese  Garden  of  C.  T. 
Brown,  Emerson  Hill,  Staten  Island    .         .123 

The  Old  Fountain  House  at  New  Dorp,  a 
Relic  of  the  Waldensian  Settlement. 
The  Stone  Lower  Part  is  the  Original 
Building.    House  Dates  back  to  1668    .         .123 

*'The  Old  Stone  House  in  Willock's  Lane/* 
Used  by  the  British  during  the  Revolution. 
Built  1734,  (Perth  Amboy)  .         .         .     130 


Illiastrations  xix 


PAGE 


BiLLOPP    House,    Tottenville,    Built    1668. 
Where    Howe,    Clinton,    Cornwallis,    and 
BuRGOYNE  WERE  Entertained         .         .         .     130 

** Dungeon"  Approach,  Billopp  House,  Totten- 
ville. Through  this  Cellar  Door  Lies  the 
Entrance  to  the  Famous  Dungeon  where 
Patriots  are  Supposed  to  have  been  Im- 
prisoned, AND  FROM  WHICH  A  SUBWAY  MAY  HAVE 

Led  TO  THE  River  ......     131 

The  ** Parker  Castle"  in  Perth  Amboy    .         .     131 

The  Old  First  Presbyterian  Church  in  New- 
ark      ........     144 

Boxwood  Hall,  Elizabeth.  Once  the  Home 
OF  Elias  Boudinot         .....     144 

The  Schoolhouse  at  the  Old  Lyons  Farms, 
where  Washington  Spoke  to  the  Children    .     145 

The  Lyons  Farmhouse,  Said  to  be  the  Oldest 
House  IN  New  Jersey    .         .         .         .         .145 

The  Old  Fort,  Elizabeth,  Built  in  1734  .         .158 

The  Old  Chateau  in  Elizabeth,  the  Home  of 
Cavalier  JouET     .         .         .         .         .         .158 

The  First  Presbyterian  Church,  Elizabeth, 
Built  in  1784.  The  Original  Building  was 
Burnt  BY  THE  British    .....     159 

House  in  Elizabeth,  where  General  Winfield 
Scott  Lived  .         .         .         .         .         .159 

The  Hetfield  House,  the  Oldest  House  in 
Elizabeth,  Built  ABOUT  1682  .         .         .174 


XX  Ill\istrations 

PAGE 

House  at  South  Bound  Brook,  where  Baron 
Steuben  had  Quarters  and  Entertained 
Washington  .         .         .         .         .         -174 

Mounted  Cannon  on  Washington's  Camp 
Ground  ABOVE  Bound  Brook  .         .         .175 

The  Battle  Monument  at  Bound  Brook,  on  the 
Site  of  the  Battle  of  i  777     .         .         .         .175 

The  Monument  and  Tablet  on  Washington's 
Rock,  Plainfield 186 

Photograph  by  Collier. 

The  Quaker  Church  in  Plainfield,  Built  in 
1788 186 

The  Washington  Headquarters,  Morristown        187 

The  Wick  House  on  the  Old  Jockey  Hollow 
Road,  Morristown 187 

By  permission  of  Rev.  Andrew  M.  Sherman. 

The  Springfield  Church,  Made  Famous  by 
THE  * '  Fighting  Parson  "  .         .         .         .     1 98 

The    Old    Arnold    Tavern    where    ''Arnold's 
Light-Horse  Troop  ' '  Gathered,  Morristown     i  98 

The  Old  Dutch  Church  of  Passaic       .  199 

The  Van  Wagoner  Homestead,  Passaic  .     199 

The  Passaic  River,  near  the  Site  of  the  Old 
Acquackanonck  Bridge         .         .         .         .214 

The  Monument  to  Alexander  Hamilton  at 
Weehawken 214 


Illustrations  xxi 


PAGE 


The  Old  House  at  Huyler's  Landing,  Built 
BEFORE  THE  Revolution  .         .         .         .215 

The  Cornwallis  Headquarters  at  Alpine         .     215 

The  Monument  at  Fort  Lee,  to  Soldiers  of 
the  Revolution    ......     228 

The  *' Half-Moon''  Anchored  at  Historic 
''Closter  Landing'* 228 

The  Old  Dutch  Church  of  Hackensack,  whose 
Records  Date  BACK  TO  1686    ....     229 

Mansion  House  at  Hackensack,  where  Wash- 
ington Stayed  during  his  Retreat  .         .     229 

The  Home  of  Molly  Sneden,  the  Ferry  Mis- 
tress, AT  Sneden' s  Landing         .         .         .     242 

'*The  Big  House,"  at  Palisades,  N.  Y.,  where 
Washington  Sat  at  Table.  The  Table  is 
NOW  TO  be  Seen  there 242 

The  *"76  Stone  House,"  where  Andre  was 
Imprisoned  AT  Tappan 243 

The  Present  Ferryboat,  a  Lineal  Descendant 
OF  Jeremiah  Dobb's  Dugout  ....     243 

The  Monument  near  the  Livingston  Mansion, 
Recording  the  History  of  the  Spot        .         .     254 

The  Door  of  the  Old  Church  at  Sleepy  Hollow    254 

The  Glen  at  Dobbs  Ferry,  where  the  Indians 
are  Supposed  TO  have  Camped        .         .         .     255 

The  Old  Bell  Tower  AT  Sunnyside   .         .         .     255 


xxii  Illustrations 


PAGE 


The  Signal  for  the  Ferryman  at  Dobbs  Perry  .     266 

The  Livingston  Mansion,  Dobbs  Ferry     .         .     266 

The  Old  Mill  at  Philipse  Manor  (now  De- 
molished)     .......     267 

The  Bridge  at  Sleepy  Hollow         .         .         .     267 

Old  Headstones  in  Churchyard,  and  a  Corner 
OF  THE  Sleepy  Hollow  Church       .         .         .     278 

The  Old  Dutch  Church,  Elmsford,  Sister  to 
THE  Sleepy  Hollow  Church  ....     278 

The  Old  Door  of  St.  John's  Church,  Yonkers   .     279 

The  Featherstone  House,  Elmsford,  where 
Washington   and   Rochambeau    Conferred, 

AND    WHERE    THE    BRITISH    GuiDE    HiD    IN    THE 

Currant  Bushes  ......     279 

The  Philipse  Manor  at  Yonkers     .         .         .     288 

Washington's  Headquarters  during  the  Battle 
OF  White  Plains.    At  North  White  Plains    .     288 

A  Mortar  Used  at  the  Battle  of  White  Plains      289 

The  Old  Inn  at  Scarsdale,  where  Drovers 
Used  to  Stop  in  Revolutionary  Days.  This 
was  also  the  Stopping-Place  for  the  Old 
Mail  Coach 289 

The  Monument  Marking  the  Site  of  the  Old 

CoURT-HoUSE,   THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  THE  StATE 

OF  New  York,  White  Plains  .         .         .     296 


Illustrations  xxiii 

PAGE 

Old  St.  Paul's  Church,  at  Eastchester,  Used 
AS  A  Military  Hospital  during  the  Revolu- 
tion      296 

The  Disbrow  Chimney  at  Mamaroneck,  where 
Cooper's  *'  Spy  ''  is  Said  to  have  Hidden  .     297 

The  Monument  to  Early  Huguenots,  at  their 
Landing  Place,  Bonnefoi  Point,  New  Ro- 
CHELLE 297 

The  Municipal  Building  at  Rye,  once  Havi- 
land's  Tavern,  on  the  Old  Post  Road    .         .     308 

The  Fay  House  at  Eastchester,  formerly  a 
Tavern,  where  a  British  Deserter  was  Hung 
TO  A  Sign-Post 308 

The  Holly  House,  Cos  Cob      ....  309 

The  Tom  Paine  Monument  at  New  Rochelle     .  320 

The  Old  Huguenot  House  at  New  Rochelle     .  320 

The  Lighthouse  AT  Fort  Schuyler    .         .         .  321 

The  Tom  Paine  House,  New  Rochelle       .         .  328 

The  Arch  Leading  through  the  old  Fortifica- 
tions at  Fort  Schuyler         ....     328 

The  Hulk  of  the  "Macedonia"       .        .  .  329 

The  Old  Marshall  Residence  .         .  .  329 

One  of  the  Old  Guns  at  Fort  Schuyler  .  .  338 

The  Old  Fortifications,  Fort  Schuyler  .  .  338 


xxiv  Illustrations 

PAGE 

The  Old  Shot  Tower,  Built  in  1821  to  Replace 
One  of  Revolutionary  Days         .         .         .     339 

An  Old  Block  House,  a  Relic  of  the  War 
OF  1 8 12,  IN  Mornings  IDE  Park    .         .         .     339 

The  Jumel  Mansion 348 

The  Gracie  Mansion,  at  Old  Horn's  Hook      .     349 

Looking  down  the  *' Hollow  Way"  of  the 
Revolution,  *' Widow  Davids's  Meadow'*  of 
Dutch  Days,  now  Manhattan  St.  ,         .         .     349 

** Smith's  Folly,"  Built  for  a  Bridal  Gift  to 
THE  Daughter  of  President  Adams         .         .     360 

The  Old  Home  of  Nathaniel  Prime,  the  Mer- 
chant Prince  of  Early  Days         .         .         .360 

The  Van  Cortlandt  Mansion  .         .         .         .361 

Map         .         .         .         .         .         .         .AT  End 


Old  Roads  from  the 
Heart  of  New  York 


INTRODUCTORY 


CHAPTER  I 

HOW  THE  NEW  YORKER  OF  YESTERDAY  SET  FORTH 
ON  HIS  JOURNEY 

WHEN  the  early  New  Yorker,  with  a  hogs- 
head of  molasses  for  fellow-passenger, 
entrusted  himself  to  the  mercies  of  a  dugout 
canoe  and  let  the  old  ferryman  transport  him 
all  the  way  to  Flushing,  he  was  proving  a  uni- 
versal law;  namely,  that  humanity  won*t  stay 
at  home.  The  dugout  was  both  uncomfortable 
and  dangerous,  and  the  hogshead  of  molasses 
could  hardly  be  called  companionable;  never- 
theless the  Manhattanite  accepted  the  conditions 
of  travel,  for  travel  he  would 

Smug  in  the  thought  of  our  Twentieth  Century 
tubes  and  ferries,  otir  trolleys  and  subways  and 
express  trains  and  automobiles,  we  hardly  real- 
ize how  much  traveling  he  did.  Manhattan 
then,  as  now,  was  the  hub  from  which  darted 
forth  innimierable  paths,  roads,  and  waterways. 

The  small  size  and  unique  situation  of  the 
island  have  always  led  to  exploration  beyond. 
Water  on  all  sides — ^and  just  beyond  the  water. 


4  Introdijictory 

piqtiing  the  curiosity  at  every  turn,  lies  enticing 
land.     The  first  imptilse  was  to  investigate. 

The  Indian  trail  has  been,  throughout  our 
country,  the  beginning  of  the  road.  In  his  turn 
the  Indian  often  followed  the  trail  of  the  beast. 
Such  beginnings  are  indiscernible  for  the  most 
part,  in  the  dusk  of  history;  but  we  still  trace 
many  an  old  path  that  once  knew  the  tread  of 
moccasined  feet. 

The  Indian  dweller  upon  Manhattan  Island 
set  forth  upon  his  joturney  in  his  simple  canoe, 
dug  out  from  a  tree-trunk.  Arrived  upon  the 
farther  shore,  he  followed  a  winding  path  through 
the  wilderness.  It  yielded  to  the  law  of  least 
resistance,  and  added  many  miles  unto  itself 
by  its  zigzag  course.  The  white  people  gradu- 
ally straightened  these  paths,  so  that  the  present 
highways  form  a  finished  product  of  which  the 
trail  was  a  rough  sketch. 

At  first  the  trails  around  Manhattan  were 
widened  to  little  more  than  bridle  paths,  as  the 
New  Yorker  rarely  traveled  except  on  horseback. 
As  travel  increased,  both  for  pleasure  and  com- 
merce, the  paths  were  widened  to  wagon  roads. 
These,  for  many  years,  adhered  to  the  original 
windings,  and  showed  a  submissive  habit  of 
turning  out  to  permit  a  tree  to  stay  where  it 
wished,  and  of  ducking  here  and  there  into  a 
gully  which  was  only  occasionally  filled  in  with 
a  pile  of  branches  upon  which  loose  earth  was 


A  Ferry  to  BroxincKsland  5 

thrown.  These  conditions  hardly  made  for  com- 
fortable traveling;  nevertheless  the  New  Yorker 
traveled,  even  though  his  vehicle  had  to  be 
pulled  out  as  often  as  it  became  stuck  in  the  mud. 

At  last,  in  the  early  eighteen-hundreds,  en- 
tered the  era  of  the  turnpike,  and  one  such  road 
followed  fast  upon  another,  until  New  York 
was  the  center  of  many  roads,  leading  off  from 
the  ferry  landings  in  all  directions,  themselves 
intersected  by  other  roads,  a  mesh  of  highways 
all  about  Manhattan  Island.  Stages  as  well  as 
private  vehicles  carried  the  traveler  in  many 
directions;  bridges  were  built;  public  ferries 
grew  in  number  and  capacity;  the  merry 
journeying  went  on  apace. 

Toward  the  north,  means  of  exit  developed 
as  early  as  the  middle  of  the  Seventeenth  Cen- 
tury. In  The  Story  of  the  Bronx  Stephen  Jen- 
kins states  that  in  1658  the  director-general  of 
New  Netherland  ''authorized  the  maintenance 
of  a  ferry  with  a  suitable  scow  between  Harlem 
and  Brouncksland.  Nothing  was  done,  how- 
ever, until  1666,  when  Governor  NicoUs  granted 
a  charter  to  the  Harlemites,  in  which,  among 
other  things,  he  allowed  them  'a  ferry  to  and 
from  the  main  which  may  redound  to  their  par- 
ticular benefit,'  and  to  construct  one  or  more 
suitable  boats  or  scows  for  the  transportation  of 
men,  horses  and  cattle  at  reasonable  charges. 
In  January  of  the  following  year  (1667)  the  au- 


6  Introdvictory 

thorities  of  Harlem,  in  carrying  out  the  provi- 
sions of  the  charter,  determined  to  estabUsh  a 
good  ferry,  and  that  a  suitable  ordinary,  or 
tavern,  should  be  built  for  the  accommodation 
of  those  who  used  the  ferry.  Mayor  Delaval 
promised  to  furnish  the  nails  for  the  making  of 
a  scow,  provided  their  value  should  be  paid  to 
him  by  the  ferryman." 

And  so  a  ferry,  under  the  charge  of  Johannes 
Verveelen,  was  established.  Previous  to  this 
the  communication  had  been  by  means  of  canoes 
and  dugouts.  The  new  ferry  was  a  little  west 
of  First  Avenue  as  we  know  it,  at  East  123d 
Street.  Here  Verveelen  entered  into  competi- 
tion with  Nature,  who  had  already  made  what 
was  called  the  *' wading  place'* — a  natural  ford 
through  Spuyten  Duyvil  Creek.  Those  of  an 
economical  turn  of  mind  still  preferred  the  free 
ford,  and  Verveelen  was  much  annoyed  at  the 
loss  of  their  fees. 

The  earliest  ferries  in  the  vicinity  of  New 
York  were  maintained  in  a  large  dugout  called 
a  periauger.  These  plied  the  Hudson  River  as 
well  as  the  waters  toward  the  northeast.  Next 
came  the  large  scow,  that  established  at  the 
Harlem  ferry  being  an  example,  capable  of 
transporting  wagons  and  animals. 

As  travel  increased,  it  was  deemed  expedient 
to  build  a  bridge  to  assist  communication  with 
the  mainland  toward  the  north.     In  January, 


A.  Bridge  at  BroadiTirax  7 

1693,  Frederick  Philipse  offered  to  build  one  at 
his  own  expense,  since  the  city  authorities  had 
been  deterred  by  the  cost.  It  was  built  the 
same  year,  about  where  the  Broadway  bridge  of 
to-day  crosses,  and  was  constructed  with  a  draw 
that  boats  might  pass.  Other  bridges  followed 
as  the  years  advanced,  one  at  last  replacing  the 
old  ferry  at  the  eastern  end  of  the  river.  Roads 
grew,  leading  from  these  bridges  into  Westches- 
ter County,  from  the  Albany  Post  Road  along 
the  Hudson,  to  the  Boston  Post  Road  near  the 
Sound.  Indian  trails  were  broadened  and  new 
ways  were  laid  out.  The  Westchester  Path  was 
famous  among  them. 

In  the  other  directions  the  history  of  exit  from 
Manhattan  is  much  the  same  story.  First  the 
dugout  or  canoe,  followed  by  a  larger  ferryboat; 
at  its  landing,  the  trail,  developing  into  the  road. 
Across  the  East  and  North  rivers,  the  ferry- 
boat still  plies  in  paths  not  far  from  the  original. 
The  first  public  ferry  to  Long  Island,  established 
about  the  middle  of  the  Seventeenth  Century, 
was  a  fiatboat  simimoned  by  the  blowing  of  a 
horn.  The  crossing  of  the  rivers  was  diffi- 
cult, even  dangerous,  before  the  day  of  the 
large  ferryboat.  In  his  History  of  New  York 
City  William  M.  Stone  quotes  a  letter  from 
Isaac  Rushmore  of  Long  Island,  an  early-day 
traveler: 

''When  a  boy  of  fifteen  I  first  visited  New 


8  Introductory 

York  City,  in  1801.  Then  we  crossed  from 
Brooklyn  in  small  sail-boats — ^two  cents  ferriage. 
With  ice  in  the  river,  it  was  sometimes  extremely 
perilous.  To  get  a  gig  across,  of  course,  the 
wheels  must  be  taken  off,  and  the  horse  jimiped/' 

The  "horse-boats"  were  an  innovation  and 
solved  many  problems  of  crossing  the  East  and 
North  rivers,  cltmisy  as  they  appear  to  us  to- 
day. The  paddle-wheels  which  propelled  them 
were  turned  by  fotu*  horses,  which  walked  around 
a  shaft  on  board  the  boat.  The  fare  charged 
was  fotir  cents.  Up  to  181 2,  when  Fulton 
revolutionized  the  water  travel,  these  were 
"modern"  ferryboats.  It  was  in  this  year  that 
Fulton  bridged  the  North  River  with  his  twin 
steamboats,  and  soon  after  the  East  River  was 
crossed  in  the  same  manner.  These  first  boats 
are  described  by  Cadwallader  D.  Colden  as 
being  two  complete  hulls  united  by  a  deck  or 
bridge,  sharp  at  both  ends  and  so  moving  either 
backward  or  forward  with  equal  ease,  and  able 
to  retrace  their  course  without  turning.  The 
floating  or  movable  dock  was  instituted,  and  the 
method  by  which  boats  were  brought  to  them 
without  shock.  As  James  Grant  Wilson  com- 
ments, except  in  the  increased  power  of  its  engine 
the  modern  ferryboat  shows  little  improvement. 

Early  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  developed  the 
system  of  "working  the  roads."  According  to 
Jenkins,  "The  Act  of  October  30,  1708,  estab- 


THe  TvirnpiKe  Era  9 

lishes  not  more  than  six  days'  work  on  the  roads 
by  the  inhabitants  each  year,  or  a  payment  of 
three  shillings  for  each  day  neglected."  The 
Provincial  Assembly  of  New  York  was  endeavor- 
ing to  bind  the  parts  of  the  Province  together 
and,  in  turn,  bind  it  close  to  the  other  colonies. 

But  still  the  roads  remained  difficult,  and  it 
is  no  wonder  that  the  turnpike  era  caused  a  new 
impetus  such  as  travel  had  never  known  here- 
abouts, trhe  first  turnpike  road  in  the  United 
States  was  laid  out  in  Virginia  in  1785.  The 
Lancaster  Turnpike  followed,  and  by  the  early 
years  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  these  toll-gate 
roads  were  appearing  eYevywhere)  Previously, 
the  New  Yorker  had  much  preferred  travel  by 
water,  but  now  the  roads  offered  comfort  for  both 
man  and  beast.  It  was  to  the  interest  of  the 
private  companies  who  collected  the  toll  to  keep 
them  in  good  condition;  no  longer  did  the  wagon 
wait,  stuck  in  a  mud-hole,  until  the  mud  should 
dry  up  and  free  it. 

Everywhere  this  road  system  at  first  met  with 
opposition.  Americans  claimed  that  the  toll 
system  was  un-American.  Farmers  protested 
against  paying  for  what  had  been  free  to  them. 
Congressman  Beeson  is  said  to  have  made  a 
speech  in  which  he  defended  the  National  Pike, 
ordered  laid  out  in  1806  by  Congress,  saying 
that  the  smithies  of  the  country  would  ring 
with  the  horseshoes  it  would  wear  out,  and  no 


10  Introdvictory 

man  need  be  out  of  employment,  by  virtue  of 
the  increased  demand  for  horseshoe  nails.  It 
did  not  take  the  citizens  of  New  York  and  the 
surrounding  country  long  to  discover  that  the 
well-kept  road  with  its  toll  was  economy  in 
the  end. 

As  has  been  stated,  the  first  road-travel  which 
was  not  afoot  was  ahorseback.  A  pack  slung 
upon  his  shoulder  carried  the  first  pedestrian's 
merchandise  or  luggage;  the  pack-horse  soon 
entered,  followed  by  the  cart  for  heavy  freight. 
The  Indian  trail  broadened  to  make  room  for 
its  Itimbering  and  clumsy  figure.  Post-riders 
carried  the  mails.  They  served  as  guide  to 
other  travelers,  who  followed  them  on  horseback 
through  devious  ways.  The  famous  journal 
of  Madame  Sarah  Knight  describes  a  trip  of  this 
sort,  between  Boston  and  New  York.     She  says: 

"About  four  in  the  morning  we  set  out  .  .  . 
with  a  french  Doctor  in  our  company.  Hee  and 
y®  Post  put  on  very  furiously,  so  that  I  could 
not  keep  up  with  them,  only  as  now  and  then 
they'd  stop  till  they  see  mee." 

Madame  Knight's  trip  indicated  great  "ad- 
vancement" on  her  part.  Travelers  of  the 
gentler  sex  usually  rode  seated  on  a  cushion  be- 
hind the  gentleman.  Chairs,  gigs,  and  chaises, 
light  vehicles  of  two  wheels,  were  used  on  the 
crude  roads  in  colonial  days. 

In  the  Eighteenth   Century  the  stagecoach 


Early  Type  of  Sta^e  Wa^on  ii 

developed,  and  it  niled  travel  at  a  later  period. 
In  The  Old  Boston  Post  Road,  Jenkins  thus 
describes  the  early  type: 

''The  stage  wagons  were  boxes  mounted  on 
springs,  usually  containing  four  seats,  which 
accommodated  eleven  passengers  and  the  driver. 
Protection  from  the  weather  was  furnished  by 
a  canvas  or  leather-covered  top  with  side  cur- 
tains which  were  let  down  in  inclement  and  cold 
weather.  There  were  no  backs  to  the  seats, 
and  the  rear  seat  of  all  was  the  one  usually  pre- 
ferred on  account  of  the  passengers  being  able 
to  lean  against  the  back  of  the  wagon.  If  there 
were  women  passengers,  they  were  usually  al- 
lowed to  occupy  this  seat.  There  were  no  side 
entrances  to  the  vehicle,  so  that  any  one  getting 
in  late  had  to  climb  over  the  passengers  who  had 
pre-empted  the  front  seats.  Fourteen  pounds 
of  baggage  were  all  that  were  allowed  to  the 
passenger  to  be  carried  free;  all  over  that  had  to 
pay  the  same  price  per  mile  as  a  traveller.  The 
baggage  was  placed  under  the  seats,  and  was 
generally  left  unguarded  when  the  stage  stopped 
at  taverns  for  meals  or  for  change  of  horses. 
(The  roads  were  poor,  the  stage  uncomfortable, 
and  the  whole  journey  was  tiring  and  distressing; 
but  we  must  remember  that  the  people  of  those 
days  were  accustomed  to  inconveniences  that 
we  would  not  submit  to  now,  though  we  have 
our  own  troubles  in  the  way  of  strap-hanging 


12  Introductory 

in  street  cars  and  crowded  conditions  in  subway 
and  elevated  trains^?' 

Private  vehicles  of  many  new  types  appeared 
upon  the  better  roads  of  the  early  Nineteenth 
Century,  in  the  years  of  happy  reaction  after 
the  close  of  the  Revolution.  And  so,  with  the 
great  improvement  in  ferries  and  other  boats,  in 
roads  and  in  vehicles;  with  the  rapid  growth  and 
firm  prosperity  of  New  York;  travel  developed, 
far  beyond  the  bounds  of  mere  necessity,  and 
became  a  common  form  of  pleasure.  To  be 
stire,  jaunts  that  are  a  mere  half -hour's  run  by 
train  in  our  day  were  trips  to  be  planned  for 
then,  and  to  go  thirty  miles  was  to  make  a 
journey.  Nevertheless  the  New  Yorker  trav- 
eled, and  the  visitor  to  New  York  was  a  sight- 
seer then  as  now,  not  only  within  the  island  but 
over  the  surrounding  country.  In  The  Picture 
of  New-  York;  or  the  Traveller's  Guide  through  the 
Commercial  Metropolis  of  the  United  States,  by 
a  Gentleman  Residing  in  this  City,  a  complete 
guide-book  issued  in  1807,  we  find  not  only 
directions  for  tours  all  over  the  city  itself,  but 
an  appendix  devoted  to  **  Tours  in  the  Neighbor- 
hood of  New- York."  These  are  six  in  number, 
and  extracts  from  the  descriptions  are  as  follows: 

*'  I.  To  New  Utrecht.  This  is  the  nearest 
place  for  sea-bathing  and  air.  The  best  road  to 
it  is  from  the  village  of  Brooklyn,  through  Flat- 
bush.    On  the  road  thither,  the  traveller  may 


Tours  a  Century  A^o  13 

note  several  things  connected  with  the  Revolu- 
tion. [Here  the  guide  describes  many  relics 
of  Putnam's  defense  of  Brooklyn  Heights,  most 
of  which  have  since  disappeared.] 

''2.  Tour  to  Rockaway.  The  route  is 
from  Brooklyn  through  Jamaica.  You  may 
travel  thither  along  the  old  road,  through  Bed- 
ford, and  by  the  half-way  house.  But  a  more 
agreeable  and  instructive  route  is  by  the  new 
road,  over  the  Wallabogt  bridge,  through  Bush- 
wick  and  Newtown  to  Jamaica.  The  mill- 
pond  over  which  this  bridge  passes,  belongs  to 
the  national  navy-yard.  The  road  from  New- 
town and  Flushing  is  shortened  2  or  2}4,  miles 
by  it.  .  .  .  Newtown  is  famous  for  its  pippins. 
.  .  .  Hempstead-plain  is  a  noted  resort  of  plover, 
and  great  numbers  of  these  savoury  birds  are 
shot  every  year. 

''3.  Tour  to  Islip.  Instead  of  visiting 
Rockaway,  you  may  travel  strait  onward  to 
Hempstead  village  .  .  .  and  eastward  ...  to 
Islip. 

'*4.  Tour  to  Passaick  Palls.  You  are  to 
cross  the  Hudson  from  Coiutlandt  street  ferry, 
and  pass  over  to  Powles-hook.  You  may  carry 
horses  and  carriages  over  with  you,  or  you  may 
take  seats  in  one  of  the  ordinary  lines  of  stages 
as  far  as  Newark.  Then  you  may  make  such 
further  arrangement  as  you  please,  in  a  village 
where  there  is  no  difficulty  in   procuring  the 


14  Introd\jctory 

means  of  conveyance.     But  a  better  method 
than  either,  if  several  are  going  together,  is,  to 
make  an  agreement  with  one  of  the  stage-offices 
in  New- York,  a  day  or  two  before-hand,  for  a 
carriage  to  meet  you  from  Newark,  with  a  single 
or  double  team  as  you  may  wish  it,  and  to  be  on 
the  ground  at  Powles-hook,  at  the  precise  day 
and  hotir  you  may  name;  and  for  the  stipulated 
price  you  may  agree  upon.  .  .  .  Some  persons 
who  are  fond  of  active  exercise,  go  to  Newark 
on  foot,  a  distance  of  only  eight  miles.  .  .  . 
Formerly    the    passage    from    Powles-hook    to 
Bergen  was  through  a  slough;  but  it  is  now  a 
fine  smooth  Road.     The  rivers  Hackinsack  and 
Passaick  were,  until  about  fifteen  years  ago, 
passed  in  flats  at  ferries;  but  since  that  time, 
travellers  cross  them  on  bridges,  for  the  payment 
of  a  toll  prescribed  by  law.  .  .  .  Not  far  above 
the  village  [Paterson]  is  the  highly  picturesque 
cataract  which  the  Passaick  forms  in  descending 
from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  the  precipice 
formed  by  a  chasm  between  the  rocks.     There 
is  a  great  deal  of  rare  and  sublime  scenery  here- 
about.    On  an  albtrai  at  the  inn  you  may  write 
your  name  and  your  reflections. 

''5.  To  King's  Bridge.  This  may  be  per- 
formed by  proceeding  from  one  of  the  livery 
stables  or  genteel  boarding  houses  in  the  lower 
parts  of  the  city. 

"6.    Trip  to  Sandy-Hook  and  the  Sea-Bass 


Old-Time  Excursion  to  Sandx  HooR     15 

Banks.  There  are  several  modes  of  being  con- 
veyed thither.  One  is,  to  engage  a  passage  on 
board  the  public  revenue  cutter.  Another  is, 
to  procure  accommodation  in  one  of  the  pilot 
boats.  But  a  third,  and  more  easy  course  is, 
for  a  convenient  number  of  gentlemen  to  charter 
a  suitable  coasting  vessel  or  packet,  to  carry 
them  a  short  trip  to  sea,  and  bring  them  back 
again/' 

It  is  apparent  from  this  that  feminism  in  1807 
had  not  advanced  to  a  point  which  included 
ladies  in  pleasure  excursions  to  the  ''Sea-Bass 
Banks.'' 

A  similar  voltime,  published  in  1828  and  en- 
titled The  Picture  of  New-York  and  Stranger's 
Guide  to  the  Commercial  Metropolis  of  the  United 
States f  adds  to  the  above  tours  similar  jaunts 
to  Long  Branch  and  Staten  Island.  It  also 
gives  directions  for  the  ''Tour  around  Manhat- 
tan Island,"  by  boat,  which  "may  be  conveni- 
ently made  in  a  few  hours,"  and  calls  attention 
to  the  many  reminders  of  Revolutionary  his- 
tory to  be  seen  on  the  trip — Fort  Washington, 
Harlem  Heights,  and  so  on. 

So,  as  did  the  traveler  of  a  century  ago,  let 
us  set  out  to-day  from  the  heart  of  New  York 
and  read  the  history  written  all  around  us.  We 
shall  follow,  one  by  one,  those  ferries  and  roads 
which  most  nearly  correspond  to  the  ferries  and 
roads  of  other  days.     Starting  toward  the  east, 


l6  Introductory 

we  can  trace  the  old  ways  to  and  upon  Long 
Island;  south  toward  the  Highlands,  over  Staten 
Island,  into  New  Jersey — ^moving  northward 
until  the  Palisades  are  reached,  and  Rockland 
County  in  New  York  State — crossing  the  Hud- 
son, we  enter  Westchester  County,  move  across 
it  to  the  shore  of  the  Sound  and  East  River,  and 
find  ourselves  back  on  Long  Island  once  more. 
Thus  the  circle  is  complete. 


EASTWARD    INTO    LONG 
ISLAND 


17 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  JAMAICA  AND  JERICHO  TURNPIKE 

TURNING  toward  the  east,  the  early  New 
Yorker  began  his  jaunt  by  means  of  a 
ferry  to  Brooklyn,  or  Breuckland — broken  land^ 
When  John  Areson  was  the  lessee,  the  charge  of 
ferriage  for  a  single  person  was  eight  stivers  in 
wampiim,  or  a  silver  two-pence;  for  each  person 
in  company,  half  that  amount;  after  sunset, 
double  the  price;  and  for  each  horse  or  beast, 
one  shilling  if  alone,  and  nine  pence  in  com- 
pany. 

Rip  Van  Dam  took  a  lease  of  the  ferry  in 
1698,  for  a  period  of  seven  years,  to  pay  165 
pounds  a  year.  During  the  period  of  the  Revo- 
lution, the  old  ferry  was  run  by  Van  Winkle 
and  Bukett,  who  charged  for  ferriage  six  pence. 

At  present  let  us  pass  through  Brooklyn,  for 
the  greatest  event  in  her  history  calls  for  a  chap- 
ter alone — ^the  Battle  of  Long  Island.  We  will 
follow  the  great  artery  which  led  directly  east 
into  the  island. 

19 


CO  Easti^ard 

One  hundred  and  twenty-nine  years  ago  it 
was  declared  in  a  town  meeting  of  Jamaica  that 
''no  hogs  shall  be  permitted  to  roam  about  the 
streets/'  By  this  act  the  people  of  that  Long 
Island  village  were  declaring  themselves  for 
civic  improvement  quite  as  forcibly  as  any  pre- 
sent-day municipality  when  it  demands  improved 
traffic  control  and  underground  trolley  wires. 
Cllie  restraint  of  willful  hogs  was  an  advanced 
thought  in  that  dayj 

Jamaica  was  progressive.  Along  with  Brook- 
lyn, it  had  deplored  the  conditions  of  travel  on 
the  island,  and  when,  in  the  early  eighteen-hun- 
dreds,  the  turnpike  became  popular  in  the  United 
States,  the  Brooklyn  and  Jamaica  Turnpike 
Company  was  formed,  and  it  was  only  a  short 
time  before  these  toll-gate  roads  were  running 
out  from  Jamaica  like  fingers  from  a  hand. 
Most  famous  of  all  was  the  Jamaica  and  Jericho 
Turnpike,  which  still  leads  to  the  old  Quaker 
settlements. 

(Jamaica  is  a  town  of  much  historic  interest. 
Its  most  distinguished  building  is  the  former 
home  of  Rufus  King,  or  King's  Mansion)  It 
faces  the  highway.  Its  large  grounds  are  now  city 
property  and  form  a  fine  shaded  park  open  to 
the  public.  Far  back  from  the  street  the  house 
stands,  carefully  preserved,  and  treasuring  with- 
in its  walls  many  relics — carved  furniture  of  an- 
cient pattern,  a  quaint  marriage  chest,  and  so 


Kin^  in  tKe  Senate  21 

on.  (Qn  Mondays  between  ten  and  four  o'clock 
this  museum  is  opeii) 

This  dignified  building  was  erected  in  1750, 
although  it  was  not  until  1805  that  it  won  the 
distinction  of  being  King's  country  seat.  It 
was  then  that  he  had  finished  his  arduous  duties 
as  (Minister  to  the  Court  of  St.  James,  the  ap- 
pointment made  by  Washington  and  endorsed 
by  Adams  and  Jeffersorjj  As  Harvard  student, 
as  lawyer,  as  aide-de-camp  to  Glover  in  the 
Revolution,  as  delegate  to  the  Continental 
Congress,  and  as  Minister  to  England,  he  had 
won  a  series  of  distinctions,  and  whoever  visits 
this  peaceful  home  in  Jamaica  can  realize  what 
a  rest  it  must  have  meant  to  settle  down  here 
after  the  strenuous  career  which  he  had  fol- 
lowed. 

Thompson  says  of  him:  ''Mr.  King's  manner 
in  the  Senate  was  highly  dignified,  and  in  private 
life,  that  of  a  polished  gentleman.  His  speeches, 
in  manner  and  weight,  gave  him  an  exalted 
rank.  Among  his  superior  advantages,  was  an 
acciH-ate  knowledge  of  dates  and  facts,  of  most 
essential  service  in  the  Senate.  His  two  finest 
speeches  are  said  to  have  been,  on  the  burning 
of  Washington  by  the  British,  and  on  the  exclu- 
sion of  Mr.  Gallatin  from  the  Senate,  for  the 
reason  that  he  had  not  been  a  citizen  of  the 
United  States  long  enough  to  entitle  him  to  a 
seat  there." 


22  East'W'ard 

Continuing  along  Ftilton  Street,  the  intro- 
duction to  the  old  turnpike,  you  come  to  several 
interesting  buildings  reminiscent  of  early-day 
Long  Island.  Grace  Episcopal  Church,  east  of 
Church  Street,  is  the  descendant  of  the  early 
Episcopal  Church  which  the  English  settlers 
established,  and  it  still  possesses  the  communion 
service  sent  from  England  in  1702  by  the  Society 
for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel  in  Foreign 
Lands. 

On  Fulton  Street,  too,  is  the  Presbyterian 
Church,  standing  close  to  the  original  site.  As 
that  happened  to  be  exactly  in  the  middle  of 
the  street,  it  was  found  convenient  to  set  the 
later  building  a  trifle  farther  back.  A  small 
warfare  took  place  here  in  the  early  Eighteenth 
Century :  the  Episcopal  rector,  Mr.  Bartow,  under 
the  endorsement  of  Lord  Cornbury,  seized  the 
Presbyterians'  building  and  held  services  there, 
claiming  the  right  of  the  Church  of  England. 
It  was  many  years  before  a  happy  settlement 
of  the  difficulty  was  made.  Even  the  old  Bury- 
ing Ground,  over  in  the  South  Quarter  of  the 
town,  was  drawn  into  the  unfortunate  wrangle. 

On  the  west  side  of  Union  Hall  Street  is  the 
old  Union  Hall  Academy,  whose  charter  was 
signed  in  1792  by  Governor  Clinton  at  the  re- 
quest of  fifty  individuals,  including  Eliphalet 
Wickes.  It  was  the  third  academic  building  on 
Long  Island,  or  rather,  the  original  was,  for  the 


Can 


non  at  IloIIis,  near  the  Spot  where  Woodhull  ivas  Captured. 


A  Tablet  on  the  School  Building  at  Hollis,  Placed  by  Sons  of  the  American 
Revolution  in  Honor  of  Woodhull. 


Be^ixinixi^s  of  Jamaica  23 

building  standing  now  was  erected  in  1820,  to 
give  scope  for  the  growth  of  the  school.  The 
schools  which  preceded  it  were  those  of  East 
Hampton  and  Flatbush. 

The  Jameco  Indians,  a  group  living  near  the 
site  of  the  town,  gave  rise  to  the  name  which  was 
finally  adopted  as  permanent — or  so  it  is  sup- 
posed, although  the  origin  of  the  word  has  been 
questioned.  The  Dutch  settlers  had  previously 
called  the  place  ''Rusdorp.*'  A  clause  in  the 
confirmatory  deed,  which  was  afterwards  ob- 
tained from  the  Rockaway  tribe  of  Indians,  read : 

''One  thing  to  be  remembered,  that  noe  person 
is  to  cut  downe  any  tall  trees  wherein  Eagles 
doe  build  theire  nestsj'' 

Jamaica  came  to  be  the  seat  of  justice  for  the 
north  riding  of  Yorkshire,  at  its  organization 
in  1665.  This  headquarters  was  not  changed 
until  1788,  when  the  courthouse  was  erected 
on  Hempstead  Plains. 

Interesting  town  records,  dating  back  almost 
to  the  middle  of  the  Seventeenth  Century,  are 
preserved  in  Jamaica.  Thompson  gives  an 
account  of  the  arrangement  made  at  a  town 
meeting  in  the  summer  of  1660,  that  the  in- 
habitants should  mow  the  common  meadows 
by  squadrons,  an  agreement  being  made  that 
lots  be  cast  for  the  south  meadows,  ''for  which 
purpose  the  meadows  were  divided  into  four 
parts,  the  inhabitants  into  four  squadrons/' 


24  East-ward 

Items  which  he  quotes  from  other  records 
are  as  follows: 

April  30,  1 66 1.  ''Voted  to  hire  a  person  to 
keep  the  towne's  cowes  and  calves  for  the  year, 
and  also  to  pay  Mr.  Coe  £11.175.  in  good  pass- 
able wamptim  out  of  money  lent  to  the  towne 
by  Nicholas  Tanner." 

May  12,  1661.  ''Whereas  the  towne  are  in- 
formed off  one  y*  milkt  other  ff olke  cowes,  being 
catcht  by  some  off  the  town,  they  have  chosen 
William  ffoster  to  prosecute  y®  cause  to  y*  ut- 
termost, either  here  or  at  the  Manhattans,  and 
the  towne  will  satisfie  him  ff  or  what  charge  he 
shall  be  at  about  y®  business." 

January  30,  1662.  "The  town  doe  promis 
to  give  Abraham  Smith  30  s.  ffor  beating  y* 
drum  a  year." 

(HpUis  is  about  a  mile  east  of  Jamaica.  Here 
the  Woodhull  tradition  centers.  You  will  find, 
still  standing,  the  tavern  erected  in  1710  and 
practically  unchanged  to-day,  where  General 
Nathaniel  Woodhull  was  captured  by  the  British) 
"Goetz's"  is  the  name  by  which  you  may  know 
it;  Increase  Carpenter  owned  it  during  the 
Revolution. 

In  August,  1776,  Woodhull,. having  sent  his 
men  on  to  a  point  four  miles  east  of  Jamaica, 
set  out  to  follow  them.  A  storm  overtook  him; 
he  sought  refuge  in  this  inn,  and  here  the 
enemy  surprised  him  and  his  capture  ensued. 


Capture  of  WoodhuU  25 

A  detachment  of  the  17th  Regiment  of  Brit- 
ish dragoons  and  the  71st  Regiment  of  infantry 
composed  the  party,  under  the  guidance 
of  certain  inhabitants  who  had  become  dis- 
affected. 

Woodhtill,  reaHzing  that  he  was  discovered, 
immediately  gave  up  his  sword  in  token  of  sur- 
render, but  this  was  not  enough  to  satisfy  the 
officer  who  approached  him.  This  is  said  to 
have  been  Major  Baird,  of  the  7Jst  Regiment. 
'*Say,  *God  save  the  King!'  ''  he  commanded. 
*'  God  save  us  all,"  replied  the  American  general. 
The  British  officer,  enraged,  fell  upon  Woodhull 
with  his  broadsword,  and  nothing  saved  his  life 
at  the  time  but  the  charitable  interference  of 
another  officer,  said  to  have  been  Major  De 
Lancey.  As  it  was,  Woodhull  sustained  severe 
wounds  in  the  head,  and  the  mangling  of  one 
arm  caused,  finally,  his  death. 

The  British,  resigning  the  purpose  of  compel- 
ling him  to  say  "God  save  the  King!",  now  car- 
ried him  to  Jamaica  where  they  had  his  wounds 
dressed.  The  next  day  he  was  taken,  along 
with  some  eighty  other  prisoners,  to  Gravesend, 
where  he  was  confined  on  board  a  vessel.  This 
vessel  was  not  adapted  for  passengers;  it  had 
been  used  merely  for  the  purpose  of  transporting 
live  stock  for  the  army,  and  the  unsanitary 
conditions  aboard  it  were  of  the  worst.  The 
suffering  of  the  wounded  general  grew  so  serious 


26  East-ward 

that  an  officer,  observing  his  condition,  remon- 
strated with  those  in  charge  of  the  affair,  and  the 
upshot  was  that  Woodhtill  was  released,  taken 
to  a  house  in  New  Utrecht,  and  there  attended 
by  a  physician. 

But  the  case  had  advanced  too  far,  and  it  was 
found  necessary  to  amputate  the  injured  arm* 
The  General  sent  for  his  wife  and  requested  that 
she  bring  with  her  all  the  money  in  her  possession. 
When  she  arrived  with  it,  he  ordered  that  it 
be  distributed  among  the  American  prisoners. 
The  operation  was  then  performed,  but  death 
followed,  on  the  twentieth  of  September.  His 
wife  took  the  body  seventy  miles,  to  the 
Long  Island  farm  which  had  been  the  family 
home. 

Thompson  quotes  a  remarkable  ballad  on 
this  theme,  for  a  copy  of  which  he  acknowledges 
indebtedness  to  Philip  J.  Forbes  of  the  New 
York  City  Library.  Some  of  its  score  or  more 
of  stanzas  run  in  this  wise: 

Stay!    Traveller,  stay!    And  hear  me  tell 

A  gallant  soldier's  fate! 
Twas  on  this  spot  brave  WoodhuU  fell! 

Sad  story  to  relate! 

Full  twenty  foes  about  his  head 

Their  glittering  sabres  flung, 
And  down,  on  his  uplifted  blade, 

Swift  blows  descending  rung! 


"Tvill  Twenty  roes"  27 

"Who  will  not  say  'God  save  the  King/ 

No  mercy  here  shall  find; 
These  are  the  terms  from  George  we  bring; 

Art  thou  to  these  inclined?" 

"I  freely  say  *God  save  us  all/ 

Those  words  include  your  King; 
If  more  ye  ask,  then  must  I  fall, 

Naught  else  from  me  ye*ll  wring." 

Yet  still  he  held  his  trusty  sword 

Upraised  above  his  head. 
And  feebly  strove  his  life  to  guard 

While  he  profusely  bled! 

A  more  heroic,  gallant  end. 

No  age  nor  clime  can  boast; 
Yet  history  ne'er  the  tale  hath  penn'd, 

And  but  for  me  'twere  lost! 


It  is  not  probable  that  "full  twenty  foes" 
did  thus  fall  upon  the  General,  but  his  "heroic, 
gallant  end"  is  to  be  remembered.  It  is  com- 
memorated on  the  grounds  of  a  public  school 
near  the  tavern,  where  stands  a  cannon,  a  monu- 
ment to  WoodhuU.  On  the  school  building  is 
a  tablet  "in  memory  of  General  Nathaniel 
Woodhull,  President  of  the  Provincial  Congress 
of  New  York  in  1775  .  .  .  citizen,  soldier, 
patriot  of  the  Revolution." 

Before  setting  out  on  the  long  road  to  Jericho, 
a   side-trip,   leading  into   the  old   Hempstead 


28  Eastward 

Turnpike,  carries  you  past  highly  developed 
land,  spacious  country  residences,  and  hosts 
of  modern  bungalows — ^through  a  region  where 
the  real-estate  agent  thrives  like  a  green  bay 
tree  and  the  hum  of  the  automobile  is  abroad 
in  the  land — ^straight  to  a  peaceful  old  building 
untouched  by  modernness.  It  is  St.  George's 
Church,  that  historic  Hempstead  house  of 
worship  whose  communion  service  was  presented 
by  Queen  Anne  two  centuries  ago. 

The  building  first  erected  here  was  demolished, 
but  the  site  is  the  same.  The  gravestones  in 
the  green  churchyard  are,  many  of  them,  as 
quaint  as  those  found  in  the  Sleepy  Hollow 
Cemetery  and  others  of  that  period.  Queer 
little  distorted  angels  hover  at  their  tops,  and 
the  long  ''s"  is  in  evidence.  Many  distin- 
guished names  are  to  be  found  here,  among 
them  several  of  the  Seaburys,  the  Reverend 
Samuel,  for  one,  long  rector  of  this  parish.  The 
inscription  reads,  ''Here  lieth  Interred  The  Body 
of  the  Rev*?  Samuel  Seabury,  A.M.,  Rector  of 
the  Parish  of  Hempstead,  who  with  the  greatest 
Diligence  and  most  indefatigable  Labor  for  13 
years  at  New  London  and  21  years  in  this  Parish, 
Having  Discharged  every  Duty  of  his  Sacred 
Function  Died  the  15th  of  June  An.  Dom.  1764.'* 

A  near-by  stone  bears  the  name  of  Captain 
David  Seabury,  and  the  date  1750. 

The  town  of  Hempstead  was  settled  by  a  group 


•*TKe  Sinn  of  Dr\:inKennesse**         29 

of  English  from  Wethersfield  and  Stamford, 
some  of  whom  are  supposed  to  have  been  natives 
of  Hemel  Hempstead,  near  London.  It  is  not 
known  why  they  chose  to  leave  New  England 
and  emigrate  to  Long  Island  soil;  but  in  1643 
they  sent  a  committee  to  blaze  a  trail  for  the 
little  colony,  and  purchase  land  from  the  In- 
dians. The  group  followed  the  next  spring, 
crossing  the  Sound  and  landing  at  Hempstead 
Harbor.  They  immediately  began  their  set- 
tlement, where  the  town  arose  later,  and  ob- 
tained their  patent  or  ground-brief  from 
Kieft. 

These  Puritans,  religious  and  sober-minded 
though  they  were,  nevertheless  permitted  the 
sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  within  their  boun- 
daries. They  issued  licenses  for  the  same,  or- 
daining that  one-half  of  the  money  received 
from  the  unlicensed  sale  of  beer,  wine,  or  strong 
liquors,  should  be  used  to  pay  the  public  expenses, 
and  the  other  half  devoted  to  the  education  of 
poor  children.  An  item  in  the  town  records  of 
1659  indicates,  however,  that  trouble  ensued: 

''Whereas  there  hath  formerly  an  ordre  been 
made  ag^*  the  Sinn  of  drunkennesse,  and  that 
wee  finde  by  daylie  Experience,  that  itt  is  prac- 
tised in  this  place  to  y^  dishonnor  of  God,  and 
therefor  wee  doe  Againe  reniue  y®  same,  and 
doe  ordre  that  Any  that  have  formerly  or  shall 
hereafter  transgress  shall  pay  for  y®  first  fault 


30  East-ward 

lo  guilders,  for  the  second  20  guilders  and  for 
the  third  to  stand  to  the  determinacion  of  y* 
court  according  to  y®  first  ordre." 

To  reach  the  Jericho  Turnpike  again,  you 
may  go  by  way  of  Mineola.  From  this  town 
the  distance  is  a  matter  of  some  half-dozen 
miles  to  the  old  terminus  of  the  road.  The 
trolley  line  deviates  a  trifle  from  this  route, 
going  as  far  as  Hicksville. 

As  you  push  on,  you  are  in  the  midst  of  old 
Quaker  associations.  The  land  on  which  Jericho 
stands  was  a  part  of  the  purchase  made  by  Robert 
Williams  in  1650,  and  settled  not  long  after  by 
a  colony  of  Quaker  families.  They  built  their 
little  meeting-house  in  1689,  and  in  it  the  great 
leader,  Elias  Hicks,  officiated  from  time  to 
time. 

On  the  trolley  route  between  Mineola  and 
Hicksville,  the  traveler  passes  the  town  of  West- 
bury.  North  of  this  lies  old  Westbury,  the 
village  which  was  built  by  farming  Friends.  It 
is  a  short  detour-  from  the  tiurnpike. 

'' Wallage''  was  the  Indian  name  for  this  spot, 
and  it  was  a  center  for  many  a  thrifty  family 
who  found  the  soil  of  Long  Island  to  their  liking. 
The  Friends  established  two  meeting-houses 
here,  and  the  old  cemetery  with  its  half -forgotten 
graves  is  to  be  seen  in  the  midst  of  this  green 
sweep  of  fine  land. 

In  Jericho  did  Elias  Hicks  find  the  Quaker 


St.  George's  Church,  Hempstead,  One  of  the  Earliest 
Parishes  on  Long  Islaiid. 


The  Mansion  once  Belonging  to  Rujiis  King,  Jamaica, 


2 


^ 
S 


O 


Elias  HicKs  31 

maiden  who  became  his  wife.  Although  he  was 
born  in  Hempstead,  it  is  Jericho  which  is  most 
strongly  associated  with  his  remarkable  life, 
for  here  he  made  his  home  for  all  the  years 
after  his  marriage  in  177 1.  It  was  the  head- 
quarters from  which  he  started  on  his  preach- 
ing tours,  covering  more  than  ten  thousand 
miles  on  foot  during  the  years  when  he  traveled 
through  the  United  States  from  Maine  to  Ohio, 
and  through  much  of  Canada,  teaching  the 
Gospel. 

One  thousand  times  Hicks  spoke  in  public, 
never  accepting  a  cent  for  his  labors  in  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  and  subsisting  by  the  products  of 
his  little  Long  Island  farm.  He  was  one  of  the 
most  forceful,  and  one  of  the  earliest,  Aboli- 
tionists, and  he  waged  war  in  his  sermons  against 
negro  slavery,  being  the  power  behind  the  Act 
of  1827,  which  freed  all  the  slaves  in  New  York 
State,  For  him  Hicksville  was  named,  and 
from  his  teaching  sprang  the  Hicksites,  now 
one  of  the  two  great  divisions  of  the  Friends' 
Church. 

So  popular  did  the  Jericho  Ttirnpike  become 
that  it  was  not  long  before  an  extension  was 
built  to  Smithtown.  Until  the  turnpike  era, 
Long  Island  had  been  backward  in  road  develop- 
ment. This  was  partly  the  result  of  mail  con- 
ditions. When  the  mail-carrier  service  had  been 
first  introduced,  there  was  a  generally  awakened 


32  Easti^irarcl 

interest  in  the  improvement  of  public  roads; 
Franklin,  as  Postmaster-General,  had  estab- 
lished the  service.  But  the  Long  Islanders 
apparently  were  not  letter-writers,  the  mail 
deliveries  were  a  week,  or  even  a  fortnight 
apart,  and  before  the  Revolution  the  service  was 
withdrawn.  Once  more  the  ''better  roads''  en- 
thusiasm wslumbered.  Furman  speaks  of  ''a  re- 
spectable old  Scotchman  named  Dunbar''  who 
''was  in  the  habit  of  riding  a  voluntary  post 
between  the  city  of  New  York  and  Babylon, 
thence  east,  and  to  Brookhaven."  But  until 
almost  the  Nineteenth  Century  Long  Island  had 
not  a  single  post  office. 

Furman  describes  an  early-day  stage  trip 
from  Brooklyn  to  Hempstead  and  Babylon. 
It  was  customary,  he  says,  for  the  regular  mail 
stage  to  leave  the  former  town  once  a  week,  at 
about  nine  o'clock  on  Thtirsday  morning — ''they 
were  not,  however,  particular  as  to  a  half- 
hour/'  This  stage  was  at  one  time  the  only 
conveyance  travelers  could  have  through  the 
Island,  unless  they  took  a  private  carriage.  At 
Hempstead  they  dined;  at  Babylon  they  supped, 
and  put  up  for  the  night.  "No  one  was  in 
haste  to  get  to  his  journey's  end,  and  if  he  was, 
and  intended  going  the  whole  route,  he  soon 
became  effectually  cured  of  it." 

At  times  the  traveler  would  descend  from  the 
vehicle  to  observe  the  bright  waters  or  the  fine 


Rural  Letter  Boxes  33 

vegetation.  ''After  walking  for  some  two  or 
three  miles  upon  the  green  sward  at  the  edge  of 
the  road,  gathering  and  eating  the  berries  as 
you  strolled  along,  until  you  were  tired,  you 
wovild  find  the  stage  a  short  distance  behind  you, 
the  driver  very  complaisant,  for  you  have  much 
eased  his  horses  in  their  journey  thro'  the  heavy 
sand/' 

The  second  night  of  the  journey  was  spent 
*'at  a  place  called  Quagg,  or  Quogue/'  Next 
morning  breakfast  was  had  at  Southampton, 
later  on  the  ''Shinecoc*'  Hills  were  passed,  Sag 
Harbor  offered  dinner,  and  Saturday  evening 
found  the  weary  traveler  at  Easthampton. 

The  mail  was  delivered  on  this  journey  some- 
what as  the  rural  carriers  of  to-day  deliver  it. 
If  a  town  did  not  lie  on  the  post  route  (sometimes 
one  was  as  much  as  a  mile  away),  the  carrier 
would  leave  letters  in  a  box  fastened  to  a  tree, 
or  on  a  rock  specified  for  the  purpose. 

For  the  traveler  who  attempted  to  make  his 
way  into  the  island  without  depending  on  the 
stage  driver's  knowledge,  dire  results  were  liable 
to  ensue,  as  Prime  sets  forth  in  his  account  of 
the  difficulties  of  Long  Island  roads.  The  three 
principal  roads,  distinguished  as  the  North, 
Middle,  and  South,  were  intersected  by  many 
little  roads  and  wood-paths  which  confused  the 
stranger  hopelessly.  They  were  so  worn  by 
constant  carting  that  they  ''not  unfrequently 


34  East'ward 

appear  the  most  direct  and  most  used,  .  .  .  the 
stranger  is  constantly  liable  to  go  astray;  and 
that  too,  where  he  might  remain  a  whole  day, 
without  meeting  a  person  to  set  him  right/' 


CHAPTER  III 

TO  ASTORIA  AND  FLUSHING 

A  NOTHER  early  road  from  Jamaica  led  to 
-^  Flushing,  that  stronghold  of  the  Quakers. 
In  fact,  for  many  years  after  the  establishment 
of  the  latter  town,  there  was  no  way  to  reach 
it  from  New  York  except  by  way  of  Brooklyn 
and  Jamaica.  Forests,  brooks,  and  swamps  cut 
off  the  approach  from  other  directions.  Thomp- 
son relates  the  story  of  a  man  who  lived  near 
the  head  of  the  bay,  where  he  kept  a  country 
store,  and,  desirous  of  increasing  his  income, 
added  three  or  four  passengers  to  the  hogshead 
of  molasses  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  carry- 
ing across  in  his  Indian  canoe.  This,  however, 
could  hardly  be  called  systematic  transporta- 
tion, as  both  molasses  and  passengers  cotild 
make  their  trip  only  in  fair  weather. 

The  Flushing  Bridge  and  Road  Company, 
incorporated  in  1802,  improved  the  road  from 
Brooklyn,  shortening  it  by  about  four  miles. 

As  ferries  and  roads  developed,  there  came  to 
be  another  way  of  reaching  Flushing  from  New 

35 


36  East^ward 

York.  This  was  by  a  more  northern  course. 
It  cannot  be  exactly  followed  to-day,  owing  to 
the  shif tings  of  land  and  watercourses;  but  it 
is  approximated  by  starting  from  the  foot  of 
East  Ninety-second  Street,  where  the  present 
Astoria  ferry  plies.  The  New  Yorker  of  yester- 
day betook  himself  to  the  foot  of  East  Eighty- 
sixth  Street,  where  the  East  River  Park  was 
laid  out  later,  including  the  point  known  as 
Harris  Hook.  There  the  ferryboat  awaited 
him. 

Even  in  the  Twentieth  Century  there  is  a  spirit 
of  quaintness  about  this  uptown  ferrj^  so  much 
used,  and  yet  so  unknown  to  many  residents  of 
Manhattan.  A  venerable  ticket-seller  counts 
your  pennies  while  his  great  gray  cat  checks 
them  off  with  shrewd  and  unwinking  golden 
eyes.  Such  a  ticket-seller,  such  a  cat,  seem  to 
belong  to  a  generation  that  is  past. 

On  a  map  now  more  than  half  a  century  old 
one  may  see,  jutting  out  from  the  east  shore  of 
the  East  River,  that  same  squarish  bump  of  land 
which  is  known  to-day  as  Astoria — a  promon- 
tory which  seems  a  cltmisy  excrescence  on  a 
smooth  shore.  One  may  read  ''Hell  Gate*'  in 
the  water  beside  it;  to  the  south  is  BlackwelFs 
Island,  just  as  now,  but  to  the  north,  that  great 
block  of  land  on  which  the  walls  of  the  Inebriate 
Asylum  and  the  Emigrant  Hospital  rise,  is 
found  marked  as  "Great  Barn  Island.'' 


A  Pioneer  of  A.storia  37 

About  the  period  of  the  map  which  I  have  in 
mind,  the  Ravenswood  region  which  lay  near 
Astoria  and  toward  Hunter's  Point  was  con- 
nected with  New  York  City  by  a  system  of 
stages.  They  ran  by  way  of  Astoria  and  the 
ferry  at  Eighty-sixth  Street,  to  the  end  of  the 
Bowery  far  below.  This  route  is  fairly  covered 
by  a  modern  boat  and  an  electric  elevated  rail- 
way to-day;  yesterday,  by  a  boat  of  ancient 
pattern  and  a  stage  drawn  by  horses. 

As  you  make  the  crossing  now,  you  pass  from 
the  crowded  shore  of  Manhattan  to  what  ap- 
pears an  equally  crowded  shore  on  the  other  side. 
The  vivid  green  of  the  park,  and  of  the  islands 
to  your  north  and  your  south,  makes  bright 
blotches  of  color  in  the  midst  of  drab  masses 
of  manufacturing.  A  brief  voyage,  and  you 
arrive  at  Astoria:  a  part  of  greater  New  York, 
a  large,  busy,  crowded  town,  and  yet  a  place 
never  seen  by  many  Manhattanites. 

The  northern  corner  of  this  promontory  is 
called  Hallett's  Point,  which  name,  along  with 
that  of  Hallett's  Cove,  came  from  William  Hal- 
lett,  who  emigrated  to  this  place  from  Dorset- 
shire as  early  as  1652.  A  grant  from  Stuyvesant 
and  a  purchase  from  the  Indians  gave  him  all 
the  land  which  is  now  covered  by  Astoria,  and 
he  may  justly  be  regarded  as  the  pioneer  of  this 
point. 

It  was  in  1839  that  the  region  of  Hallett's 


38  East^ward 

Cove  was  made  an  incorporated  village,  and 
something  like  a  boom  occurred.  A  female 
seminary  was  started,  and  John  Jacob  Astor, 
being  interested  in  the  place,  promised  to 
contribute  largely  to  its  support.  The  name 
''Astoria''  was  given  to  the  new  village,  the 
ferry  to  Eighty-sixth  Street  was  established, 
and  the  growth  was  rapid. 

As  you  glance  along  the  picturesque  shore  of 
this  irregular  portion  of  the  East  River,  you 
can  readily  realize  why  it  was  a  fashionable 
suburban  district  three-quarters  of  a  century 
ago.  The  broken  lines  of  water  and  land,  the 
green  islands,  the  heights,  were  quite  sufficient 
to  lure  the  builder  of  a  countryseat.  General 
Ebenezer  Stevens  built  himself  a  summer  home 
facing  the  bay  opposite  the  upper  end  of  Black- 
weirs  Island,  and  there  commanded  a  fine 
view  of  land  and  water  from  his  height.  Other 
wealthy  men  followed  his  example,  and  the 
locality  soon  came  to  be  reckoned  ''elegant." 

On  the  same  old  map  one  can  trace  a  fine  line 
leading  from  the  shore  of  the  Astoria  promon- 
tory, running  back  into  Long  Island,  moving 
almost  due  east,  and  bearing  the  mark  "Toll 
Gate.''  Here  ran  one  of  the  old  roads  which 
found  its  way  eventually  to  Flushing.  Beyond 
Flushing  it  was  extended,  continued  eastward 
until  it  brought  up  at  last  in  one  of  the  north 
shore's  numerous  bays. 


St.  George* s  Church — the  New  Building — Flushing. 


The  Bowlder  Marking  the  Spot  where  George  Fox  Preached. 


Pi- 

o 


^ 
s 


St.  George's,  FlusKing  39 

A  trolley  running  from  the  Astoria  ferry  fol- 
lows a  similar  direction.  It  passes  through  the 
town  of  Astoria,  on  to  Woodside,  thence  straight 
into  the  center  of  Flushing,  after  skirting  Flush- 
ing Bay  with  its  merry  showing  of  stmimer  vaca- 
tion boats.  This  town  was  one  of  the  earliest 
settlements  on  Long  Island. 

St.  George's  Church  stands  on  Main  Street. 
The  building  which  rises  before  you,  large  and 
prosperous,  is  the  modern  house  of  worship 
erected  by  the  old  parish;  but  back  of  it,  just 
beyond  the  group  of  old  gravestones,  stands  the 
original  church,  gray  and  weather-beaten,  clad 
in  its  stout  shingles  of  early  date.  This  build- 
ing is  careftilly  preserved  at  the  rear  of  the 
church  property,  and  is  used  as  a  Sunday-school 
room. 

The  first  establishment  of  the  Church  of 
England  in  this  vicinity  placed  the  triplet  towns. 
Flushing,  Newtown,  and  Jamaica,  under  one 
clergyman's  care.  One  of  the  early  preachers, 
who  held  services  once  a  month  in  the  Flushing 
Guard  House,  wrote  of  the  town  that  ''most  of 
the  inhabitants  thereof  are  Quakers,  who  rove 
through  the  country  from  one  village  to 
another,  talk  blasphemy,  corrupt  the  youth, 
and  do  much  mischief.''  Others,  however, 
were  of  another  mind  as  regards  these  thrifty 
settlers. 

St.  George's  parish  still  preserves  two  manu- 


40  EastiTvard 

script  sermons  of  the  Reverend  Thomas  Poyer, 
that  brave  clergyman  who  lived  through  such 
grievous  struggles  with  the  Nonconformists. 
He  had  a  tragic  experience  of  American  life. 
It  was  in  December,  1710,  that  he  came  from 
Wales;  he  traveled  for  three  months,  crossing 
the  Atlantic,  and  when  he  reached  the  coast  of 
Long  Island,  only  a  hundred  miles  from  his 
destination  he  was  shipwrecked. 

The  poor  man  was  rescued  only  to  plunge  into 
more  trouble.  He  entered  upon  his  work,  and 
soon  found  himself  the  object  of  the  villagers* 
persecutions.  The  shopkeepers  would  not  sell 
him  provisions,  and  he  feared  starvation;  the 
miller  would  not  grind  his  corn,  and  advised 
him  to  eat  it  whole,  ''as  do  the  hogs."  For 
more  than  twenty  years  he  fought  his  battle, 
at  last  asking  to  be  relieved  of  the  labor;  but 
the  same  year  he  was  stricken  with  smallpox, 
and  died. 

The  charter  of  this  famous  old  church  was 
dated  June  17,  1761,  which  was  the  first  year 
of  the  reign  of  George  the  Third.  But  a  few 
blocks  away,  beyond  the  park,  near  where  the 
public  playground  has  been  laid  out,  is  another 
famous  old  church.  This  is  the  meeting-house 
of  the  Religious  Society  of  Friends  erected  in 
1694,  You  read,  ''Meetings  for  Worship  First 
Days  at  11  a.m.  All  welcome.  First  Day 
School  at  10  A.M." 


Xhe  BoiTirzie  Hoiise  41 

This  is  the  house  of  worship  erected  by  some 
of  the  earliest  and  most  courageous  settlers  of 
the  Island,  and  we  have  but  to  look  at  its  stiirdy 
old  walls  to  conjure  up  a  picture  of  the  Friends 
of  long  ago  wending  their  way  along  green  lanes 
and  across  footpaths  through  the  fields,  all 
gathering  here  for  worship. 

Some  of  the  first  Quakers  in  Flushing  came 
from  Gravesend,  where  they  had  settled,  but, 
persecuted  by  Governor  Stuyvesant,  they  moved 
to  a  point  where  they  thought  they  could  have 
more  freedom.  A  familiar  name  among  the 
worshipers  in  this  church  was  that  of  John 
Bowne. 

It  is  in  the  Bowne  house  that  you  will  find 
the  most  remarkable  glimpses  of  long  ago  still 
cherished  in  this  vicinity.  But  a  short  distance 
back  from  the  meeting-house,  on  Bowne  Avenue, 
it  stands,  surrounded  by  a  large  yard,  and  fairly 
smothered  by  trees  and  vines.  It  looks  as 
homelike  a  spot  to-day  as  it  must  have  looked 
in  struggling  early  days  to  George  Fox,  when 
he  sought  rest  within  its  walls. 

It  was  in  1672  that  this  preacher  came  to 
Flushing  from  Oyster  Bay,  a  journey  which  he 
bravely  faced  in  spite  of  the  difficulties  of  travel. 
Neither  miles  nor  hardships  nor  persecution 
daunted  the  valiant  Fox. 

John  Bowne  offered  his  house  as  headquarters, 
and  the  Friends  assembled  from  far  and  near 


42  Easti^ard 

to  hear  the  great  speaker.  ''We  had  a  very- 
large  meeting/'  he  wrote  with  pardonable  satis- 
faction, **many  hundreds  of  people  being  there, 
some  coming  thirty  miles.  A  glorious  and 
heavenly  meeting  it  was  (praised  be  the  Lord 
God!),  and  the  people  were  much  satisfied.'* 

Step  across  the  street  for  a  moment  and  see 
the  spot  where  he  stood  to  address  this  ''glorious 
and  heavenly  meeting. ' '  A  large  bowlder  marks 
it  now;  formerly  the  visitor  could  see  the  oaks 
themseWes,  long  known  as  the  "Fox  Oaks,'' 
under  which  he  stood.  Gabriel  Ftirman  visited 
the  spot  in  1825  and  measured  the  trees,  finding 
one  of  the  splendid  trunks  to  be  thirteen  feet 
in  circumference,  the  other  twelve  feet  four 
inches.  They  have  long  since  fallen,  one  in 
1841,  the  other  in  1863,  having  lived,  it  is 
supposed,  to  be  as  much  as  four  hundred  years 
old. 

Back  in  the  Bowne  house,  you  will  be  shown 
the  couch  on  which  Fox  reposed  when  he  had  fin- 
ished his  labor.  It  is  only  one  of  many  hoarded 
relics.  The  rooms  are  filled  with  old  pieces  of 
furniture,  samplers,  pictures,  countless  other  re- 
minders of  past  Quaker  days.  The  building  is 
kept  open  for  the  benefit  of  the  public. 

In  the  library  you  may  see  the  secret  spot 
where  the  family  silver  was  hidden  during  the 
war.  Toy  cribs,  a  good  type  of  spinning  wheel, 
and  a  bookcase  constructed  in  the  house,  are 


The  Friends'  Meeting-Hotise  in  Flushing,  Erected  in  1694. 


The  Old  Home  of  the  Prince  Family,  Flushing.     The  Grounds  were  once  Included 
in  the  Linncean  Botanical  Gardens,  the  First  Nursery  in  America. 


^ 


n 


^ 


Elia^abetH  Fry's  Jest  43 

on  display  here.  The  samplers  are  of  interest. 
One  is  signed  ''Eliza  Bowne,  Nine  Partners 
Boarding  School,  1800,  Aged  12  years/'  and 
runs: 

Blest  solitude,  how  sweet  thy  peaceful  scenes! 

Where  contemplation's  votaries  love  to  stray; 
Where  In  her  sapient  dress  religion  reigns, 

And  shines  more  splendid  than  the  noontide  ray. 

And  farther  on,  in  one  of  the  bedrooms,  to 
offset  the  solemnity  of  this  sampler,  one  may 
read: 

(Sir  R.  Peel) — ''I  am  afraid,  Mrs.  Fry,  there 
is  too  much  Sugar  in  the  Brandy." 

(Elizabeth  Fry) — ''Thou  must  take  it  in  the 
spirit  in  which  it  is  given.'' 

With  "in  the  spirit''  carefully  italicized,  lest 
the  sober  Quaker  mind  miss  the  point  of  Eliza- 
beth Fry's  demure  jest. 

There  are,  among  the  treasures,  a  rope  bed,  a 
Grannie  Grace  chair,  a  portrait  of  Fox,  and  an 
oak  table  put  together  with  wooden  pins — the 
last-named  as  old  as  the  house  itself,  and  formerly 
used  at  the  yearly  meetings  held  there.  For  a 
long  time  this  was  the  chief  meeting  place  of 
many  Friends,  and  the  old  oven  used  to  open 
like  a  giant  mouth  to  receive  the  hordes  of  loaves 
which  were  fed  into  it  for  these  conferences. 
Logs  dragged  by  chains  were  brought  in  to 


44  Easti^ard 

keep  up  the  roaring  fire.  Thirty  or  forty- 
loaves  were  a  mere  bagatelle  for  the  Bowne 
kitchen  to  produce.  Under  the  stairs  the 
logs  were  stored,  ready  for  the  strenuous 
baking  days. 

Preserved  in  one  of  the  rooms  is  the  gallant 
staff  of  Thomas  Bowne,  emigre  1649,  with  which 
he  is  said  to  have  killed  a  bear. 

Close  to  the  house,  at  the  head  of  Fox  Lane, 
stands  a  handsome  old  horse-chestnut  tree, 
characteristic  of  Flushing.  The  town  is  famous 
for  its  very  large,  very  well-preserved,  and  very 
varied  trees,  and  thereby  hangs  a  tale.  In  1732 
William  Prince  established  the  Linnaean  Botanic 
Garden,  the  first  "modern''  nursery  of  America, 
making  himself  thus  the  pioneer  nturseryman 
of  his  country. 

Not  only  did  his  own  work,  carried  on  under 
the  Linnaean  system,  thrive  marvelously,  but 
others  took  it  up,  making  Flushing  the  most 
famous  town  in  America  for  the  raising  of  trees, 
shrubs,  and  flowers.  At  the  time  of  the  Revolu- 
tion the  Prince  garden  was  so  wonderful  that 
General  Howe  was  moved  to  place  a  guard  at 
either  end  when  the  British  troops  entered  the 
town,  that  no  depredations  might  be  committed. 
During  the  war  three  thousand  cherry  trees  were 
cut  down  for  hoop  poles  because  they  could  not 
be  sold;  this  gives  some  idea  of  the  extent  of 
the  nurseries.    William  IV.  of  England,  then 


THe  Linnaean  Garden  45 

Prince  William,  visited  the  town  to  see  the 
Linnaean  Garden  in  1782. 

William  Prince  has  long  since  gone,  but  the 
old  Prince  home  is  to  be  seen  now  at  No.  20 
Broadway,  and  in  the  yard  is  still  standing  one 
of  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  several  of  which  in 
old  days  graced  the  lawn. 

On  Main  Street,  not  far  from  the  railroad 
station,  stands  a  large  colonial  btdlding  with  a 
broad  lawn  before  it.  This  was  once  the  Flush- 
ing Institute,  established  in  1827,  and  directed 
by  the  Reverend  Dr.  William  Augustus 
Muhlenburgh. 

The  ''Hotine  House,''  as  it  is  familiarly 
known,  at  189  Broadway,  is  a  representative 
of  early  days,  dating  back  before  the  Revolu- 
tion, although  much  altered  in  outward  appear- 
ance. Although  local  tradition  has  occasionally 
labeled  it  ''Washington's  Headquarters"  and 
''Howe's  Headquarters,"  it  is  doubtftil  whether 
any  Revolutionary  history  of  importance  at- 
taches to  it — although  the  secret  closet  hidden 
within  its  walls  is  mysterious  enough  to  lend 
credence  to  many  tales.  The  house  was  erected 
sometime  before  the  Revolution  by  Mr.  Aspin- 
wall,  has  passed  through  several  hands,  and  is 
now  owned  by  Dr.  Bloodgood. 

The  history  of  the  town  of  Flushing  is  difficult 
to  trace  in  many  details,  because  of  the  lament- 
able fact  that  its  records,  long  ago  kept  in  the 


46  East-ward 

house  of  John  Vanderbilt,  the  town  clerk,  were 
burnt  along  with  the  house  at  the  end  of  the 
Eighteenth  Century  by  two  slaves,  Sarah  and 
Nelly.  The  culprits  were  hanged  in  1790, 
Aaron  Burr  being  the  prosecuting  attorney,  but 
this  satisfaction  of  a  primitive  public  vengeance 
did  not  restore  the  missing  links  of  history. 

The  names  of  the  town's  pioneers  are  there- 
fore buried  forever.  But  it  is  known  that  a 
group  of  English,  who  had  lived  for  a  time  in 
Holland,  were  probably  the  first  settlers  here. 
It  is  supposed  that  they  were  induced  to  emi- 
grate to  this  region  by  agents  of  the  province 
of  New  Netherlands.  The  civil  and  religious 
privileges  of  a  new  country  were  the  chief 
inducement  held  out  to  them. 

These  planters  had  been  kindly  treated  by 
a  Holland  community,  and  in  gratitude  for 
this  recollection  they  gave  their  new  town  that 
other  town's  name — ^Vlishing,  or  Vlissengen. 
It  was  in  the  spring  of  1645  that  they  arrived 
here;  they  obtained  a  patent  or  ground-brief 
from  Kieft,  and  the  place  grew  rapidly.  The 
soil  was  phenomenally  good,  which  accounts  for 
the  later  development  of  the  nurseries,  although, 
as  Thompson  comments,  it  leaves  us  at  a  loss  to 
know  why  the  Dutch  had  not  already  seized 
upon  so  fertile  a  spot. 

In  very  early  days  the  public  business  of  the 
town  was  mostly  transacted  in  a  building  called 


St.  George's  Church — the  Old  Building — Flushing,  in  which  the 
Manuscript  Sermons  of  the  Rev.  Thos.  Poyer  are  Preserved. 


A  Corner  of  the  Bowne  House ^  Flushing. 


The  Bergen  Homestead. 


The  Old  Lefferts  Homestead  in  Flatbush. 


-A  SKeriflTs  Difficulties  47 

the  Block  House,  which  stood  near  the  site  of 
the  town  pond.  Pond  and  Block  House  have 
both  vanished.  Here  were  kept  the  town  re- 
cords, where  arms  and  ammunition  were  stored. 

The  illiberal  methods  of  the  powers  that  were, 
aroused  much  hard  feeling  among  the  settlers, 
and  a  state  of  friction  arose,  sometimes  culmi- 
nating in  overt  insubordination.  A  glimpse  of 
this  spirit  is  caught  in  a  public  record  of  1648 : 

*' Thomas  Hall,  an  inhabitant  of  fflishingen, 
in  New  Netherlands,  being  accused  that  he 
prevented  the  sheriff  of  fflishengen  to  doe  his 
duty,  and  execute  his  office,  in  apprehending 
Thomas  Heyes,  which  Thomas  Hall  confesseth, 
that  he  kept  the  door  shut,  so  that  noe  one  might 
assist  the  sheriff,  demands  mercy,  and  promises 
he  will  do  it  never  again,  and  regrets  very  much 
that  he  did  so.  The  director  and  council  doing 
justice  condemn  the  said  Thomas  in  a  fine  of 
25  guilders,  to  be  applied  at  the  discretion  of  the 
council.'' 


CHAPTER  IV 

DUTCH  HOMESTEADS  ON  THE  WAY  TO  FLATLANDS 

T^AP  at  an  ancient  Dutch  door  with  its  brass 
-■'  knocker,  and  the  upper  half  will  open 
cautiously  until  you,  as  a  stranger,  are  appraised. 
If  you  are  favored,  the  lower  half  will  open  and 
let  you  in. 

And  this  depends  upon  your  own  powers  of 
imagination.  If  you  see  before  you  merely 
a  dilapidated  building,  then  you  may  as  well 
take  your  leave  at  once.  But  if  the  very  rat- 
tat  of  the  old  knocker  conjures  up  before  you  a 
buxom,  brass-polishing  Dutch  matron;  if  the 
sight  of  twenty  small  panes  in  a  window  suggests 
to  you  a  rosy,  cap-framed  Dutch  face  peeping 
forth;  if  you  see  at  once  a  picture  of  sand-strewn 
floors  and  shining  pewter  and  corded  bedsteads 
and  hairy  trunks  and  hand-spun  linen  and  knit 
worsted  stockings  and  Bibles  dangling  at  round 
belts — ^then  the  door  of  the  past  swings  wide  to 
you,  and  you  are  admitted  to  the  Dutch  days  on 

old  Long  Island. 

48 


Earlx  DutcH  Farms  49 

Over  the  yellowed  surface  of  an  old  map  one 
may  trace  a  road  which  led  from  Brooklyn 
somewhat  east  of  south,  toward  the  beach.  It 
passed  through  Flatbush  and  Flatlands;  just 
below  the  latter  it  forked,  and  several  tines  of 
the  fork  all  pointed  toward  Jamaica  Bay.  Along 
this  road  the  old  map  indicates  homesteads; 
the  names  ''J.  Lefferts,''  ''J.  Cortelyou,''  '^G. 
Vandeveers,"  and  ''J.  Johnson,''  are  among  the 
sturdy  list. 

In  this  direction  the  early  Holland  residents 
took  up  land  and  built  themselves  farmhouses. 
Here  they  planted,  cultivated,  prospered.  They 
built  substantially,  according  to  the  custom  of 
their  time,  and  many  of  their  houses  stand  to- 
day almost  as  they  were  in  days  before  the  Revo- 
lution shook  our  country.  Their  chtirches,  too, 
are  standing;  and  in  their  quiet  yards  many  of 
these  old  settlers  lie  sleeping. 

To-day  a  trolley  line  carries  the  traveler  along 
a  road  which,  in  the  main,  follows  the  direction 
of  that  of  the  yellowed  map.  Back  in  the  Seven- 
teenth Century,  the  roads  on  Long  Island  were 
little  more  than  bridle  paths,  and  the  ladies 
who  traveled  over  them  usually  rode  horseback. 
A  cushion  was  placed  behind  the  saddle  of  the 
gentleman,  and  thereon  the  lady  was  mounted 
for  her  ride. 

The  lumber  wagon  and  the  sleigh,  which  ran 
upon  split  saplings,  were  the  earliest  vehicles 


50~  Eastward 

used  by  the  Dutch  on  Long  Island.  Previous 
to  the  Revolution,  the  one-horse  chaise,  mounted 
upon  its  two  wheels,  came  into  fashion,  and  in 
this  the  prosperous  Long  Islander  made  his 
jaunts. 

The  Dutch  homes  hereabouts  were  mostly- 
built  of  wood.  Now  and  then  a  dwelling  of 
brick  or  stone  arose.  The  houses  were  con- 
structed with  an  overshot  roof  which  formed  a 
piazza  by  its  projection  from  the  front  of  the 
house;  occasionally  the  roof  was  overshot  at 
both  front  and  rear.  The  houses  had  one  low 
story,  above  which  heavy  oak  beams  formed  a 
basis  for  the  attic  floor.  These  beams  above 
the  unceiled  rooms  are  still  to  be  seen  in  the 
best  preserved  dwellings. 

The  familiar  pair  of  chimneys,  one  at  each 
end  of  the  house,  rose  from  a  pair  of  huge  fire- 
places. They  were  made  so  wide  that  the  entire 
family — by  no  means  small  in  ntmiber — could 
gather  about  the  fire.  Some  of  the  fireplaces, 
in  the  better  houses,  were  adorned  with  Dutch 
scriptural  tiles  of  Delft  blue  and  white.  In  the 
great  chimneys,  meat  was  hung  to  be  roasted  or 
cured. 

The  main  room  of  the  house,  the  '*best 
room,"  was  used  as  a  dining-room  on  great 
occasions,  although  the  enormous  bedstead 
was  the  principal  piece  of  furniture  there 
displayed.    The  two  feather-beds,  one  to  rest 


THe  Lefferts  Homestead  51 

under,  one  over  the  victim,  were  always  in 
evidence. 

Flatbush  Avenue  carries  you  along  the  path 
of  this  early  Dutch  life.  As  you  pass  beyond  the 
closely-built  business  district  of  Brooklyn  you 
will  catch  glimpses  here  and  there  of  early  types 
of  houses,  more  or  less  altered.  At  last,  on  the 
left,  you  come  upon  a  fine  old  specimen — ^gray, 
well-ordered,  shaded  by  large  trees,  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  broad  lawn.  Its  roof  has  a 
curving  sweep;  at  each  end  rises  a  chimney, 
and  the  low  porch  extends  under  the  old  over- 
shot roof. 

This,  No.  563  Flatbush  Avenue,  is  the 
Lefferts  homestead  of  pre-Revolutionary  period 
— or  rather,  the  original  house  was  built  before 
the  war,  burned  during  its  storm  and  stress,  and 
rebuilt,  on  the  same  spot,  of  the  same  model,  soon 
afterwards.  Pieter  Lefferts,  that  esteemed  set- 
tler, was  the  inhabitant  then,  and  the  house  has 
remained  in  the  family  ever  since. 

There  is  a  tradition  to  the  effect  that  the 
large  barn  standing  behind  the  dwelling  used 
to  harbor  slaves  in  slavery  days. 

The  small  eagle  now  to  be  seen  above  the 
front  door  is  a  treastired  heirloom.  The  broad 
hall  and  spindle  balusters  are  unchanged.  A 
story  pertaining  to  the  modern  history  of  the 
house  is  that  a  moving-picture  company,  aware 
of  the  building's  perfection  of  type,  decided  to 


52  East-ward 

make  a  bold  dash  and  invade  it  in  the  owner's 
absence.  A  young  woman  was  alone  there,  a 
caretaker;  when  the  company  arrived,  hoop 
skirts,  soldierly  uniforms  and  all,  prepared  to 
seize  upon  the  great  hall  and  staircase  for  the 
delightful  background  which  they  afforded,  the 
young  woman  stood  her  ground  as  if  she  were 
resisting  a  British  invasion — ^ghosts  of  the  Re- 
volution returned  to  invade  the  old  residence — 
and  the  ''movey''  heroes  and  heroines  retired 
in  confusion,  routed. 

A  short  walk  along  the  avenue  from  this  spot 
brings  you  to  that  church  which  is  the  lineal 
descendant  of  the  one  built  by  the  first  Dutch 
settlers  of  Flatbush.  The  first  was  erected 
upon  this  site  by  order  of  Governor  Peter 
Stuyvesant  in  1654,  ^^^  three  churches  have 
occupied  the  ground.  The  second  was  built 
in  1698  and  the  present  in  1796.  Its  tablet 
states  that  '*  the  emblem  of  the  Reformed 
Dutch  Church  of  America  consists  of  the 
Coat  of  Arms  of  William  of  Orange  combined 
with  the  ecclesiastical  symbols,  the  pillars  and 
stars." 

It  is  recorded  in  early  annals  that  the  minister 
became  inattentive  to  his  calling,  and  complaint 
was  made  by  the  people.  He  was  holding 
services  but  once  in  a  fortnight,  they  claimed, 
and  even  then  for  only  fifteen  minutes,  merely 
reading  a  prayer  instead  of  a  sermon.     Great 


Church  of  the  Early  Dutch  Settlers  in  Flatbiish. 


Old  Well,  Philipse  Manor. 


Erasmus  Hall  High  School  To-day,  Built  about  the  Old  Erasmus  Hall 
Academy.       The  Original  School  Founded  in    lySy. 


The  FlatbusK  CH\xrcKyard  53 

was  the  offense  felt  by  these  pious  settlers.  The 
Governor  listened  to  the  complaint  and  issued 
orders  to  the  minister  that  he  ''shotild  attend 
more  diligently  to  his  work.' 

Behind  the  building,  which  replaces  the  an- 
cient wooden  one,  you  will  find  many  crumbling 
old  red  stones  of  that  period,  half -hidden  among 
the  more  pretentious  gray  and  white  monuments 
of  recent  years.  The  names  are  spelled  in  old 
lettering,  and  the  inscriptions  are  in  the  language 
of  the  settlers.  Partly  obliterated,  such  words 
as  *'Vrou",  and  "Hier  licht  begraven,"  catch 
the  eye.  Several  members  of  the  Lefferts 
family  are  buried  here;  ''Sarah  Van  Der  Bilt,'' 
''Rem  Vanderbelt,"  are  found.  One  stone  is 
"in  memory  of  Phebe  Voorhees,  the  affectionate 
wife  of  Peter  I.  Cortelyou,"  and  her  epitaph  can 
be  traced: 

Here  lies  a  friend  bereaved  of  life, 
A  pious  mother,  a  loving  wife. 

Across  the  street  from  this  church,  Erasmus 
Hall  High  School  proudly  rises,  not  in  the  least 
suggesting  the  modest  Erasmus  Hall  Academy 
which  was  its  forebear.  A  part  of  its  walls  is  of 
the  old  building,  but  that  is  hidden  in  the  new. 
This  was  one  of  those  early  educational  institu- 
tions which  distinguished  Long  Island.  It  was 
established  in  1787,   and  one  of    its  earliest 


54  East-ward 

principals  was  John  Henry  Livingston,  the  first 
theological  professor  whom  the  Dutch  Reformed 
Church  had  in  our  country. 

Continuing  along  Flatbush  Avenue,  you  will 
come  upon  several  more  old  homes,  still  in 
fair  or  even  excellent  preservation.  For  one, 
there  is  the  house  at  the  corner  of  Avenue  J. 
It  stands  a  bit  back  from  the  street,  and 
the  country  around  it  is  sufficiently  open  to 
give  a  suggestion  of  the  days  when  this,  like 
the  other  homesteads,  was  an  isolated  farm- 
house, surrounded  by  fertile  acres  which  Dutch 
diligence  tilled. 

Other  homes  of  this  period  were:  the 
Henry  S.  Ditmas  house  at  the  corner  of 
Ditmas  and  Flatbush  avenues,  known  for  its 
fine  example  of  an  old  Dutch  door;  the  Lott 
house  (there  were  several  Lotts)  at  1084  Flat- 
bush Avenue;  and  the  Vanderbilt  home  at 
610,  with  its  Dutch  oven  in  the  cellar,  now 
demolished. 

Flatbush  of  now  was  Midwout,  or  Middle 
Woods,  in  ancient  days.  The  settlement  was  be- 
gun about  the  middle  of  the  Seventeenth  Cen- 
tury, probably  in  1 65 1 .  Even  earlier  than  this,  in 
1636,  was  that  neighboring  settlement  started, 
called  by  the  Dutch  New  Amersfort,  now  known 
as  Flatlands.  At  the  time  of  the  latter  settle- 
ment, there  was  a  tobacco  plantation  in  the 
town^    owned    by   ex-Governor    Van    Twiller, 


THe  Flatlaxids  CHvircH  55 

which  was  commonly  called  Van  Twiller's 
Bowery  and  was  well  known  long  after  the 
hamlet  was  established. 

The  boundary  lines  of  these  towns  are  un- 
noticeable  in  the  merging  of  modern  btiilding, 
and  the  road  runs  imperceptibly  from  Flatbush 
on  into  Flatlands.  On  your  left  you  will  spy 
a  shining  white  tower,  rising  as  peaked,  and  as 
cleanly  snowy,  as  the  toy  chtirch  steeples  of 
your  childhood's  play.  Around  it  the  little 
pointed  lawn  is  so  green,  all  the  paint  is 
so  gleaming,  that  the  whole  effect  suggests  some- 
thing rather  unreal,  like  an  imaginary  Spotless 
Town  holding  aloof  from  this  grimy,  dusty, 
smoky  world. 

This  is  the  old  Reformed  Dutch  Church  of 
Flatlands,  a  most  picturesque  link  in  this  chain 
of  Long  Island  tradition.  It  is  trim  and  prim 
as  one  of  New  England's  dapper  meeting- 
houses, and  the  inscriptions  on  the  churchyard 
stones  are  delightfully  quaint.  The  church 
stands  on  the  King's  Highway — a  road  with  a 
history  of  its  own — at  the  intersection  of  East 
Fortieth  Street 

Here,  as  in  the  Flatbush  churchyard,  the 
oldest  inscriptions  are  largely  in  the  Dutch 
language.  Some  in  English,  however,  appeal 
to  the  English-speaking  observer. 

*' Sarah  Spong,  d.  1830,  Aged  81,"  appears  on 
a  stone  above  the  lines: 


56  East-ward 

How  lov'd  how  valu'd  once  avails  the  not 
To  whom  related  or  by  whom  begot. 
A  heap  of  dust  alone  remains  of  thee 
'Tis  all  thou  art  and  all  the  proud  shall  be. 

A  gentler  reflection  on  death  is  embodied  in 
the  epitaph  of  '' Wilhelmina,  daughter  of  Nicho- 
las and  Alette  Schenck,  1816,  21  years/* 

Here  Wilhelmina's  ashes  lay 
The  grave  receives  her  precious  clay 
But  angels  waft  her  soul  on  high 
All  hail  her  Savior  in  the  sky. 

This  church  was  organized  on  February  9, 
1654,  and  was  a  gathering  place  for  Dutch 
farmers  for  many  miles  around. 

Near  Bergen  Beach  beyond,  where  the  merry- 
go-round  and  the  ice-cream-cone  vender  now 
flourish,  the  trail  of  history  is  still  to  be  traced. 
The  ancient  Schenck  house  standing  near  the 
beach  is  one  of  the  oldest  to  be  found  anywhere 
about.  Several  houses  of  old  Dutch  architecture 
stiU  stand.  One  of  them,  hardly  changed  in  outer 
appearance,  distinctly  of  the  period  of  Holland 
settlers,  with  sloping  low  roof,  is  now  equipped 
with  hot  and  cold  running  water  and  all  modern 
improvements  which  tend  to  make  country  life 
comfortable;  thus  are  the  past  and  present 
happily  wedded! 

Most  famous  of  all  these  old  homes  is  the 


A  Hunter's  Cabin  57 

Bergen  homestead  on  East  Seventy-second 
Street.  The  charm  of  its  detached  situation,  its 
old  trees  and  gray  shingled  walls,  draws  many  a 
visitor.  We  found  the  present  resident  sitting 
on  its  broad  lawn  under  the  shade  of  one  of  its 
trees. 

"What  do  you  know  about  the  place?'*  we 
asked  him,  wondering  if  traditions  hitherto 
unpublished  were  stored  in  his  mind. 

''That  I  can't  drive  a  nail  nur  a  screw  into 
these  old  hand-made  shingles,''  he  responded. 
''I've  tried  it  an'  tried  it,  an'  they're  hard  as 
bricks.  They  don't  make  shingles  o'  that  kind 
o'  wood  nowadays !  Nur  build  that  way  nowa- 
days! That  house  was  built  to  last,  I  know 
that  much  about  it." 

He  settled  down  comfortably  for  a  chat. 
"There  isn't  much  telling  just  when  the  begin- 
ning of  this  house  was,"  he  went  on.  "They 
say  that  end  of  it — "  pointing  to  the  western 
portion  of  the  building — "was  a  kind  o'  cabin 
belonging  to  a  hunter  in  early  days — ^some  fellow 
that  hunted  and  trapped  hereabouts,  selling 
skins  and  making  his  living  that  way.  That 
was  before  farming  came  to  be  the  business  o' 
this  community.  Then  Bergen  came  along, 
they  say,  and  liked  the  situation,  and  he  bought 
the  land — all  this  land — "  with  a  vast  sweep  of 
the  hand,  "cabin  and  all,  and  since  it  was  a  solid 
enough  kind  o'  building,  though  small,  he  built 


S8  Eastward 

on  till  there  was  a  good-sized  house.  It  belonged 
in  the  Bergen  family  till  maybe  twenty  years 
ago. 

The  accepted  date  of  the  homestead  is  1655  or 
1656,  and  it  is  said  that  in  1791  John  Bergen 
came  into  possession  of  this  beach,  and  enlarged 
the  house  to  meet  his  growing  demands.  Some 
of  its  treasures,  such  as  the  old  Dutch  knocker, 
have  melted  away,  but  the  tiny-paned  windows 
remain,  a  flawless  relic  of  the  old  days. 

Within  sight  of  this  place,  only  a  few  minutes' 
walk  beyond,  is  the  noisy  whirl  of  fortune-tellers 
and  peanut  venders  and  wheels  that  carry 
shrieking  pleasure-seekers  into  the  air.  It  is  a 
world  far  removed  from  the  sober  round  of  farm 
and  household  toil  which  the  settlers  of  these 
parts  followed,  day  in  and  day  out,  through 
their  diligent  lives.  It  takes  a  very  austere 
form  of  sobriety  to  settle  a  raw  country.  The 
American  of  to-day  has  leisure  and  nickels  for 
peanuts  and  pleasure-wheels  because  the  settlers 
of  this  period  allowed  themselves  no  leisure 
whatever.  But  there  is  something  which  strikes 
one  as  a  trifle  impertinent  on  the  part  of  a  bump- 
tious young  pleastire-spot  like  Bergen  Beach 
thus  thrusting  itself  under  the  very  nose  of 
ancient  sobriety. 

That  bold,  brave,  stubborn  old  dictator,  Peter 
Stuyvesant,  permitted  no  church  except  the 
Dutch  Reformed tobe  established  in  his  territory. 


^ 


•3^    a 


^  pq 


« 
t* 

I 


t^  r:^ 


Where  the  Prospect  Park  Swan  Boat  ?tow  Plies,  the  Din  of  Battle  ojice  was  Heard. 


The  Battle  Pass  Tablet  in  Prospect  Park,  Marking  the  Outer  Line  of  Defense 

in  1776. 


j\  Grim  Government  59 

Robert  Hodgson,  a  Quaker  refugee,  was  brought 
before  Stuyvesant  and  his  council,  was  not  per- 
mitted to  utter  a  word  of  defense,  and  was 
sentenced  to  hard  labor  at  the  wheelbarrow  for 
two  years.  He  was  chained  to  the  wheelbarrow 
and  ordered  to  go  to  work,  loading  and  wheeling 
it,  on  a  hot  midsummer  day;  when  he  refused  to 
accept  this  punishment  for  no  crime  save  that 
of  preaching  his  religion,  he  was  beaten,  starved, 
and  tortured.  Not  till  public  sympathy  stirred 
in  his  behalf  was  he  released. 

This  was  the  grim  conception  of  government 
under  which  life  moved.  It  created  in  the  people 
a  spirit  of  stern  industry,  at  once  forceful  and 
narrow.  Stuyvesant 's  employers  in  Holland 
rebuked  him  for  over-zeal,  and  a  gentler  sway 
followed. 

The  first  houses  built  on  the  Island  were 
protected  against  marauding  Indians  by  strong 
palisades.  These  girt  the  houses  about,  and 
disappeared  as  the  need  for  them  disappeared. 

East  of  Coney  Island  lies  another  island  which 
belonged  to  the  town  of  Flatlands.  In  early 
years  it  was  much  larger  than  it  is  now,  and  was 
covered  with  red  cedar  and  other  trees,  not  in 
the  least  suggesting  its  later  name  of  Barren 
Island.  This  spot  of  land  is  said  to  have  been 
one  of  the  headquarters  of  a  band  of  early-day 
pirates — ^the  band  ruled  by  the  famous  Gibbv?. 
Here  they  hid  away  much  of  their  booty,  which 


6o  Eaat'ward 

was  chiefly  in  the  form  of  Mexican  dollars,  as 
they  had  suffered  the  misfortune  of  losing  the 
rest  of  it  when  their  boat  upset  in  their  attempts 
to  land.  These  men  were  later  on  convicted 
of  piracy  and  murder,  being  turned  over  to  the 
law  by  one  of  their  own  number,  and  all  but 
the  tale-teller  paid  the  penalty  by  being  executed 
together  on  Gibbet  Island  in  New  York  Harbor 
in  the  year  1831. 

When  the  early  Holland  emigrants  arrived 
at  New  Amersfort,  they  found  an  Indian  trail 
leading  from  Jamaica  Bay  to  East  River.  This 
the  farmers,  ''boers''  as  they  were  then  called, 
traced,  and  found  that  it  led  to  Midwout.  For 
protection,  they  planted  their  homesteads  fairly 
near  together  along  this  path,  and  thus  began 
the  first  road  between  the  towns. 

Ross  states  that  not  until  1704  was  a  real 
effort  made  to  improve  the  roads  through- 
out the  State.  The  Legislature  passed  a  law 
by  which  three  commissioners  were  appointed 
in  each  of  the  counties  in  Long  Island,  to  lay 
out  a  highway  from  Brooklyn  ferry  to  East- 
hampton.  The  Kings  County  Commissioners 
set  promptly  about  their  task,  and  they  laid  out 
the  road  which  is  now  a  part  of  Ftilton  Street, 
beginning  at  ''low  water  marke  at  the  ferry." 
They  followed  the  old  path,  and  so  on  to  New 
Lots.  When  this  road  was  completed  it  con- 
stituted the  King's  Highway,  which  was  the  first 


•*To  Be  Forever"  6l 

of  the  famous  highways  of  Long  Island.  A 
portion  of  it  still  retains  the  old  name — ^we  have 
come  across  it  at  the  Flatlands  church  to-day. 
As  the  order  then  went  forth,  it  was  to  be  laid 
out  with  a  uniform  width  of  four  rods,  and  was 
''to  be  and  continue  forever.*' 


CHAPTER  V 

OVER  THE  BATTLEGROUND  OF  LONG  ISLAND  IN  THE 
FOOTSTEPS  OF  PUTNAM 

DETURNING  from  the  roads  which  lead  us 
*  ^  out  into  Long  Island,  we  are  once  more 
within  the  city  of  Brooklyn.  Dutch  and  Quaker 
days  and  ways  have  been  recalled;  Brooklyn, 
with  its  most  vivid  bit  of  history,  brings  us  into 
the  period  of  the  Revolution.  There  is  little  left 
to-day  to  mark  the  old  sites  made  famous  dur- 
ing Putnam's  defense  of  Brooklyn  Heights;  we 
can,  however,  retrace  the  footsteps  of  the 
Americans  in  a  general  direction  if  not  exactly. 
Some  of  the  modern  streets  coincide  with  the 
old  ones;  and  at  least  the  battlegrounds  are 
to  be  seen,  even  though  the  relics  of  the 
encounters  have  vanished  forever. 

In  the  heart  of  Brooklyn's  busiest  district, 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  people  come  and  go 
and  pass  every  day  in  the  year,  and  never  notice 
a  simple  bronze  tablet  which  clamps  the  corner 
of  a  square-shouldered  business  btdlding  at 
the  intersection  of  Fulton  Street  and  Flatbush 

Avenue.     The  tablet  is  small  and  unobtrusive, 

62 


'Wallabovjit  to  Go"wan\xs  63 

and  people  who  pass  are  thinking  about  a  real- 
estate  deal,  or  an  exploded  tire,  or  the  new 
styles  in  millinery.  It  bears  a  brief  inscription — 
merely  four  names,  set  down  for  what  they  are 
worth,  without  comment: 

' '  Washington.    Putnam.    Sullivan.    Stirling. ' ' 

And  beneath  these,  a  small  relief  of  a  battle 
scene,  and  the  words:  ''Line  of  Defense.  Battle 
of  Long  Island.  August  27 ^  1776.  From  the 
Wallabout  to  the  Gowanus. '' 

It  is  telegraphic  in  its  brevity,  contrasted  with 
the  elaborate  eulogies  of  the  usual  battle  monu- 
ment or  tablet.  But ' '  from  the  Wallabout  to  the 
Gowanus*'  tells  Brooklyn's  greatest  story.  To- 
day the  Wallabout  is  merely  that  bay  at  the 
crook  of  the  East  River,  where  the  Navy  Yard 
fronts  the  water;  and  the  Gowanus,  that  inden- 
tation in  our  Upper  Bay  overlooked  by  Green- 
wood Cemetery  and  the  busy  blocks  which  lie 
just  below  its  heights.  If  you  will  look  on  the 
map,  you  will  see  that  an  incurving  line  drawn 
between  these  will  take  in  the  heights  of  Fort 
Greene  Park,  Prospect  Park,  and  the  Cemetery; 
here,  then,  you  have  a  sketchy  map  of  the  great 
battle  which  was  the  first  avowed  battle  fought 
in  our  nation's  war  for  independence. 

In  an  afternoon's  stroll  over  these  vicinities 
you  can  to-day  re-fight  that  battle  in  your  mem- 
ory. You  will,  at  times,  follow  old  roads,  walk 
in  old  footsteps,  overlook  old  prospects.     On  a 


64  East-ward 

slope  which  invites  loafing,  which  tempts  babies 
to  roll,  you  may  hear  the  clank  of  military  metal. 
On  the  heights  associated  with  the  contest,  one  is 
reminded  of  the  remark  of  a  certain  real-estate 
dealer —  that  ''armies  always  did  have  a  leaning 
toward  fine  building  sites.'' 

Fort  Greene  Park,  the  height  which  the  city 
long  ago  took  over  to  be  a  green  spot  and  pleas- 
ure ground  for  the  people,  lies  between  Myrtle 
and  De  Kalb  avenues,  and  offers  a  refreshing 
glimpse  of  grass  and  trees  in  down-town  Brook- 
lyn. Call  to  mind  the  position  of  the  American 
and  British  forces  139  years  ago. 

Washington  had  driven  the  British  from 
Boston  and  had  brought  his  army  down  to  New 
York  in  the  spring  of  that  year — 1776.  Perhaps 
the  American  forces  had  not  had  as  much  to  do 
with  the  British  evacuation,  however,  as  had 
strategic  motives  on  the  enemy's  part.  The 
British  intended  to  make  New  York  the  center 
of  their  operations;  they  had  regarded  the  cam- 
paign around  Boston  as  a  preliminary,  and  the 
real  opening  of  the  war  was  to  take  place  around 
New  York.  In  June  of  1776  the  signs  of  British 
occupation  were  shown. 

General  Howe  proceeded  to  set  forth  his  array 
in  New  York  Harbor.  Seven  weeks  after  the 
beginning  of  this  move  he  had  more  than  four 
hundred  vessels  and  thirty  thousand  troops 
there,  the  troops  being  encamped  on  Staten 


ScytHe  and  Pole  65 

Island.  To  meet  this  array,  Washington  cotdd 
not  call  together  twenty  thousand  eflfective  men. 
Some  of  these,  opposing  all  the  completeness 
of  British  training  and  equipment,  marched  as 
they  would  walk  behind  the  plow,  and  wielded, 
by  way  of  weapon,  a  straightened  scythe  fastened 
to  a  pole. 

Howe,  having  studied  the  situation  and  forti- 
fications of  the  Americans,  decided  that  his  best 
move  would  be  not  to  attack  the  center  and 
right  of  the  Americans,  which  included  Gover- 
nor's Island,  the  Battery,  and  the  Hudson 
River  defenses;  although  he  believed  his  troops 
capable  of  making  this  attack  victoriously,  it 
offered  the  Americans  too  good  an  opportunity 
to  retreat  farther  north  along  the  island  of 
Manhattan,  and  escape  by  way  of  Ejfngsbridge. 
The  results  would  be  better  if  he  could  outflank 
our  army.  The  American  left  wing  was  stationed 
on  Long  Island,  and  Howe  saw  his  opportunity 
to  overcome  the  defenses  on  Brooklyn  Heights 
and  along  the  shore,  to  proceed  up  the  East 
River,  and  to  cut  off  the  chance  of  retreat  to  the 
north. 

When  Washington  had  come  to  New  York 
from  Boston,  he  had  spent  the  ensuing  months 
in  preparing  for  this  British  attack.  Several 
points  were  strongly  fortified,  among  them 
Brooklyn  Heights.  It  offered  a  most  favorable 
position,  overlooking  the  entrance  to  the  city  of 


66  East-ward 

New  York,  and  there  Washington  had  defenses 
built,  there  he  placed  General  Greene  with  a 
large  body  of  troops.  But  much  sickness  pre- 
vailed that  summer,  and  in  the  middle  of  August 
Greene  succumbed  to  an  attack  of  bilious  f ever^ 
and  Sullivan  was  put  in  his  place.  Meanwhile 
General  Putnam  was  arranging,  by  chevaux-de- 
frise,  to  stop  the  British  vessels  which  might 
aim  to  enter  and  pass  up  the  East  River. 

The  design  of  the  British  was  clearly  worked 
out.  It  was  on  the  twenty-second  of  August 
that  definite  activities  began,  when  Howe  landed 
twenty  thousand  men  at  Gravesend  Bay,  and 
from  this  spot  set  out  to  reach  Brooklyn  Heights. 
Four  roads  led  thither:  on  the  left,  the  Gowanus 
road  which  skirted  the  shore;  on  the  right,  the 
Jamaica  road,  curving  inland;  between  these, 
two  roads  which  crossed  the  wooded  hills 
intervening  and  passed  through  the  villages  of 
Bedford  and  Flatbush. 

Fort  Greene  Park,  as  it  is  known  to-day,  was  a 
most  vital  point  in  the  American  defense.  It 
was  exposed  to  the  enemy,  and  at  the  same 
time  it  gave  the  Americans  their  hold  upon 
New  York.  It  meant  to  New  York  what  Bunker 
Hill  and  Dorchester  Heights  meant  to  Boston — 
namely,  the  command  of  the  situation.  About 
half  the  American  army  was  therefore  concen- 
trated there — ^some  nine  thousand  men.  Because 
of  the  tremendous  responsibility  of  the  position, 


s 

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Fort  Pxitnam  67 

Putnam  was  placed  in  supreme  command, 
Sullivan  still   remaining. 

The  place,  known  as  Fort  Putnam  before  it  was 
Fort  Greene  Park,  is  described  by  Lossing  as  a 
wooded  hill  near  the  Wallabout;  a  redoubt 
with  five  guns ;  when  the  trees  were  felled  it  com- 
manded the  East  River  as  well  as  the  roads 
approaching  Brooklyn  from  the  interior.  Stand- 
ing on  its  highest  point  to-day  you  can  realize 
its  value  for  a  fortification. 

The  entrenchments  which  ran  from  Fort 
Putnam  are  difficult  to  trace  in  this  century, 
owing  to  the  over-riding  growth  of  the  city  which 
has  sprung  up  about  them.  It  is  known  that 
one  ran  in  a  northwesterly  direction  down 
the  hill  toward  a  spring  on  the  verge  of  the 
Wallabout.  Another  ran  toward  Freek's  mill- 
pond,  at  the  head  of  Gowanus  Creek.  There 
were  various  redoubts  here  and  there;  at  the 
corner  of  Clinton  and  Atlantic  streets,  the  site 
of  the  Athenaeum  of  a  later  day,  stood  ''Cobble 
Hill, ''  an  old  fort.  Three  cannon  were  here;  as 
the  entrenchment  made  a  spiral  from  top  to 
bottom  of  the  hill,  it  was  called  ''Corkscrew 
Fort/'  The  finding  of  arrowheads  and  buttons 
marked  "42"  (belonging  to  the  42d  High- 
landers), some  half -century  ago,  recalled  the 
position  of  Box  Fort,  near  the  termination 
of  Hoyt  Street  at  Carroll.  Thus  a  fair  sketch 
of  the    American    position    has    been  worked 


68  East-ward 

out;  but  many  links  in  the  chain  have  been 
debated. 

For  fotir  days  of  that  eventful  August,  Howe 
reconnoitered.  The  upshot  was  that  he  deter- 
mined to  approach  Brooklyn  Heights  by  all  of 
the  four  roads,  he  himself  choosing  to  take  the 
Jamaica  road  which  offered  a  roundabout  eastern 
approach.  On  this  journey  he  made  his  quarters 
in  a  building  then  known  as  Howard's  Half -Way 
House,  an  old  inn  on  the  Jamaica  road. 

Washington's  hour  for  swift  and  drastic 
measures  had  come.  Having  first  sent  rein- 
forcements to  Sullivan  at  Brooklyn,  he  had 
followed  up  this  act  by  sending  General  Putnam 
to  take  charge  of  the  entire  affair.  Putnam  was 
a  veteran  at  the  time;  he  was  in  his  fifty-ninth 
year  and  was  mature  in  both  life  and  war, 
equipped  for  the  most  important  position  which 
the  situation  of  the  Americans  offered. 

On  the  morning  of  August  24th,  immediately 
upon  receiving  his  appointment,  Putnam  cros- 
sed to  Brooklyn.  He  had  heard  the  sounds 
of  the  first  skirmishing  on  Long  Island,  and  he 
was  chafing  to  be  in  the  thick  of  it  all.  Although 
nearly  sixty,  his  eagerness  for  action  was  as 
keen  as  that  of  a  boy.  His  own  enthusiasm 
had  always  fired  the  men  under  him,  from  the 
days  of  his  Indian  fighting;  and  now,  as  he 
arrived  at  Brooklyn  Heights,  loud  and  long 
cheering  greeted  the  appearance  of  ''Old  Put." 


Putnam's  Inspection  69 

Immediately  a  sense  of  confidence  spread 
throughout  the  American  forces  and  their 
sympathizers. 

Putnam,  with  Burr,  his  aide-de-camp,  set  out 
at  once  to  inspect  the  chain  of  defenses  which  had 
been  put  up  during  the  summer.  He  had  the 
situation  clearly  in  mind  now,  and  he  was 
impatient  for  the  battle  to  begin.  Washington 
sent  more  troops  across  on  the  night  of  the  26th; 
those  behind  the  Brooklyn  works  were  under 
Putnam's  personal  command. 

Howe  now  advanced,  while  Putnam  pre- 
pared to  meet  the  attack.  By  way  of  Bedford 
and  Flatbush,  through  dense  woods.  General 
von  Heister  led  the  Hessians;  these  roads  were 
defended  by  Sullivan.  The  Highland  Regiments 
under  General  Grant  followed  the  road  along 
the  shore;  Stirling  was  ready  for  them.  Howe 
himself,  in  his  night  march  by  way  of  the 
Jamaica  road,  was  accompanied  by  Cornwallis, 
Clinton,  and  Percy,  and  aided  by  many  British 
sympathizers  along  the  route. 

It  was  impossible  to  send  enough  men  to  meet 
Howe;  so  great  was  the  British  majority,  that 
any  force  which  the  Americans  might  have  sent 
wovild  have  been  powerless.  A  patrol  watched 
the  Jamaica  road,  but  it  was  captured  at  day- 
break, and  Bedford  was  gained  by  the  British. 

Sullivan  was  now  bravely  fighting  against  the 
advance  of  von  Heister  and  his  Hessians.     But 


70  Easti^ard 

Stillivan's  position  was  between  two  fires.  In 
spite  of  his  efforts,  Cornwallis  found  opportunity 
to  attack  him  in  the  rear.  The  Americans  were 
taken  prisoners  or  driven  to  flee. 

Stirling  was  being  confronted  by  Grant  with 
his  five  thousand  men,  three  thousand  more  than 
Stirlinghad ;  nevertheless  the  brave  American  gen- 
eral formed  a  battle  line  all  the  way  from  Gowanus 
Bay  over  Battle  Hill  in  Greenwood  Cemetery. 

Before  going  on  to  the  other  scenes  of  the 
conflict,  you  can  take  a  look  aside  at  the  shaft 
rising  before  you,  on  the  summit  of  Fort  Greene 
Hill.  It  is  the  prison  soldiers'  monument,  or 
Martyrs'  Tomb,  relating  the  last  and  saddest 
chapter  of  this  battle  story.  Here  were  brought 
the  bodies  of  those  victims  of  the  prison  ship 
Jersey,  who  suffered  such  tortures  after  their 
capture  by  the  British.  The  monument  is 
flanked  by  cannon,  and  its  height  of  125  feet  is 
stirmotmted  by  a  bronze  turn  twenty  feet  high. 
The  contributions  which  erected  it  came  from 
city,  state,  United  States  Government,  and  the 
Prison  Ship  Martyrs'  Association. 

Your  next  step  in  tracing  the  battle  story  lies 
toward  Prospect  Park.  You  enter  under  the 
Soldiers'  and  Sailors'  arch — ^a  memorial  dedicated 
to  the  defenders  of  our  Union  who  fought  from 
1861  to  1865,  and  standing  only  a  short  distance 
from  the  spot  where  our  soldiers  of  almost  a 
century  earlier  defended  our  nation. 


Maryland's  Fovir  Hundred  71 

If  you  will  ttirnjnto  the  Eastern  Drive  after 
entering  the  Park,  follow  it  past  the  children's 
playground,  and  look  sharply  to  your  left  after 
passing  the  playground,  you  will  suddenly  dis- 
cover a  gray  bowlder  retired  among  the  trees  near 
the  Drive.     Its  tablet  bears   this   inscription: 

''Line  of  Defense.  August  2"],  1776.  Battle 
of  Long  Island.  175  feet  south.  Site  of  Valley 
Grove  House,  150  feet  north.'' 

This  tells  its  own  story.  You  are  approach- 
ing the  thick  of  the  fray. 

Now  follow  on  along  the  Eastern  Drive  until 
it  bends  into  the  Central  Drive,  pass  the  lake, 
and  find  your  way  to  Lookout  Hill.  This  land 
which  is  now  one  of  the  finest  parks  in  the 
United  States,  a  triumph  of  landscape  garden- 
ing, and  thronged  with  merry-making  crowds, 
was  once  trampled  by  throngs  of  soldiers, 
drenched  with  blood,  and  given  over  to  the 
horrors  of  battle. 

Climb  the  slope  of  Lookout  Hill  and  picture 
the  prospect  as  it  was  on  that  August  day  when 
the  gallant  Marylanders  fought  here.  A  simple 
shaft  rises,  in  their  memory;  on  the  one  side  you 
may  read:  '*In  honor  of  Maryland's  Four 
Hundred,  who  on  this  Battle  Field,  August  27, 
1776,  saved  the  American  army."  And  on  the 
other  side,  George  Washington's  words  quoted: 
''Good  God!  What  brave  feUows  I  must  this 
day  lose!" 


72  East^ward 

Von  Heister  with  his  Hessians  had  overcome 
Sullivan  in  short  order,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
forces  which  had  closed  in  from  behind.  Stirling 
and  Grant,  meeting  on  the  shore  road,  had 
fought  the  first  fight  in  which  Americans  had 
ever  met  British  troops  in  the  open  field  and  in 
regtilar  line  of  battle.  Stirling  had  fought  magni- 
ficently but  he  too  was  assaulted  in  the  rear;  his 
one  effort  now  was  to  save  his  command  from 
capture. 

With  the  remnant  of  the  Maryland  men  he 
formed  a  line  and  made  one  of  the  most  terrific 
fights  in  the  annals  of  the  Revolution,  '"he 
Maryland  men  were  famous  throughout  the  war 
for  their  personal  gallantry,  the  battle  at  Eutaw 
Springs  being  one  of  their  great  feats,  in  which 
they  drove  Britain's  finest  infantry  at  the  point 
of  the  bayonet.  In  this  Long  Island  battle 
Stirling  himself  was  captured,  but  to  the  Mary- 
land regiment  was  due  the  fact  that  the  retreat 
of  hundreds  of  Americans  was  made  possible. 
It  was  a  frightful  retreat — a  mere  fleeing  mob, 
officers  mingled  with  privates,  no  formation 
left,  but  still  the  vestige  of  an  American  division 
to  be  received  at  Putnam's  headquarters  on  the 
Heights. 

Going  on  to  Greenwood  Cemetery,  you  come 
to  another  historic  spot.  Entering  at  the  gate 
where  the  cemetery  offices  stand,  passing  these 
buildings  and  following  the  path's  curve  to  the 


"  Dont  Fire,  Boys  "  73 

right,  you  come  into. sight  of  the  bay.  Turn  with 
the  gravel  road;  pass  the  Civil  War  monument 
which  was  dedicated  by  the  city  of  New  York  to 
the  148,000  soldiers  enlisted  by  this  city  for  that 
war;  just  beyond  it  you  come  to  Fern  Avenue, 
and  at  the  intersection  of  this  path  with  Green- 
bank  Path  lies  Battle  Hill.  Near  this  did 
Stirling  take  his  position. 

During  the  time  that  the  fierce  fighting  was 
going  on,  Putnam  and  his  men  were  watching 
some  of  it  from  the  Brooklyn  works.  They 
could  see  the  Americans  approaching  the  works, 
driven  by  the  British,  who,  it  appeared,  were 
undertaking  to  make  an  assault  upon  the  forti- 
fications. Putnam  was  ready  for  this  event. 
He  passed  to  and  fro  among  the  men  who  waited 
behind  the  defenses,  issuing  quick  orders,  draw- 
ing their  resistance  taut  along  with  his  own.  A 
story  has  been  told  of  him  at  this  time,  reported 
to  one  Carson  Brevoort  by  a  man  named  Remsen 
who  was  present  at  the  defenses.  It  is  recorded 
in  the  Memoirs  of  the  Long  Island  Historical 
Society: 

"A  few  paces  in  the  rear  of  the  firing  parties 
General  Putnam  was  constantly  stalking  back 
and  forth,  at  every  return  enforcing  anew  his 
favorite  command,  which  Bunker  Hill  had  made 
so  famous:  'Don't  fire,  boys,  until  you  can  see 
the  whites  of  their  eyes.'  The  eminent  success 
of   this  injunction  in  that  battle  had  given  it 


74  Easti^ard 

an  importance  in  the  mind  of  the  old  In- 
dian fighter  which  qiiite  justified  its  frequent 
repetition.     .     .     • 

''A  soldier  of  one  of  the  Connecticut  regiments 
was  crouching  behind  the  breastwork  and  was 
busily  employed  in  loading  his  own  and  his  com- 
rade's gun,  which  were  fired,  however,  only  by  the 
latter,  a  Maryland  soldier,  who  was  kneeling  to 
rest  his  piece  upon  the  parapet  and  with  deliber- 
ate aim  picking  off  the  enemy's  troops.  This 
partnership  of  courage  and  poltroonery  ...  at 
length  arrested  the  attention  of  the  promenad- 
ing General.  The  angry  blood,  which  fired  so 
readily  at  the  call  of  his  hot  temper,  flamed  in  an 
instant  on  his  countenance,  and  with  a  few  quick 
strides  he  reached  the  side  of  the  couchant  hero 
who  remained  unconscious  of  the  proximity  of 
his  angry  General.  The  flat  side  of  his  sword 
fell  with  stinging  force  on  the  back  of  the  culprit 
as  he  exclaimed,  'Get  up,  you  damned  coward, 
and  fire  your  own  gun. ' '' 

In  spite  of  Putnam's  indomitable  spirit  in  the 
face  of  overwhelming  odds,  the  American  forces 
were  powerless  against  an  enemy  so  great  in 
ntmibers,  so  complete  in  training  and  equipment. 
As  many  historians  have  commented,  the  wonder 
is,  not  that  the  Americans  were  forced  to  give 
up,  but  that  they  gave  Howe  a  whole  day  of  the 
hardest  fighting,  and  caused  him  heavy  losses, 
in  defeating  them.     Moreover,  the  delay  gave 


C3 


« 

^ 


^ 


^ 


^ 


Martyrs^  Monument,  Fort  Greene  Park, 


"^w-'V  *"'»♦ 


;^v^ 


The  Place  of  Worship  from  which  Chapel  Hill  Took  its  Name, 


Americans  Secretly  Cross  River       75 

Washington  time  to  plan  his  remarkable 
withdrawal. 

Howe  did  not  undertake  to  carry  the  Brooklyn 
works  by  storm.  But,  having  driven  the 
Americans  back  to  where  Putnam  gallantly  held 
his  shattered  forces  together,  he  watched. 
Apparently  no  move  lay  open  to  the  Americans. 
But  Washington,  hastening  across  the  river 
from  Manhattan,  assembled  at  the  Brooklyn 
ferry  all  the  boats  obtainable,  and,  under  cover 
of  the  foggy  night,  removed  his  vanquished 
army  to  the  other  side  of  the  river,  while  the 
British,  officers  and  men,  slept  undisturbed. 

How  the  thing  was  accomplished  without 
rousing  the  victors  has  always  remained  inexpli- 
cable. Washington  himself  superintended  the 
embarkation;  Fiske  says,  he  *' collected  every 
sloop,  yacht,  fishing-smack,  yawl,  scow,  or  row- 
boat  that  could  be  found  in  either  water  from 
the  Battery  to  Kingsbridge  or  Hell  Gate;  and 
after  nightfall  of  the  29th,  these  craft  were  all 
assembled  at  the  Brooklyn  ferry,  and  wisely 
manned  by  the  fishermen  of  Marblehead  and 
Gloucester  from  Glover's  Essex  Regiment,  ex- 
perts, every  one  of  them,  whether  at  oar  or 
sail." 

Washington  did  not  leave  the  ground  until 
every  one  of  his  men  was  off.  Seven  in  the 
morning  saw  not  only  every  American  landed 
on  the  New  York  side,  but  cannon  and  small 


76  Easti^ard 

arms  as  well,  tools,  horses,  ammunition,  and 
larder.  Fiske  concludes,  ''When  the  bewildered 
British  climbed  into  the  empty  works  they  did 
not  find  so  much  as  a  biscuit  or  a  glass  of  rtim 
wherewith  to  console  themselves. " 

If  you  will  cross  Brooklyn  to  the  Navy  Yard, 
you  can  follow  in  imagination  the  sorry  fate  of 
our  men  confined  in  British  prison  ships.  Here, 
looking  out  over  Wallabout  Bay,  you  recall  the 
horrors  of  the  old  hulks  which  the  British  moored 
here,  and  kept  as  floating  prisons,  the  Jersey 
being  the  most  famous  of  these.  She  was  called 
by  her  prisoners  ''the  hell  afloat."  This  vessel 
served  as  prison  ship  till  the  end  of  the  war;  it  was 
a  hotbed  of  filth  and  disease,  men  were  left  in 
rags,  crowded  beyond  all  conception  of  crowding, 
poisoned  by  spoiled  food,  and  tortured  with 
countless  cruelties. 

Until  the  year  1873  the  bones  of  these 
martyred  prisoners  lay  in  a  vault  just  outside 
the  Navy  Yard.  Then  they  were  removed  to 
Fort  Greene  Park.  The  Martyrs'  Tomb  in  that 
park  contains  the  remains  of  eleven  thousand 
American  heroes. 

t^ntil  the  end  of  the  Revolution,  Brooklyn 
remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Britisji)  Washing- 
ton, having  removed  his  army  to  New  York,  now 
stationed  the  most  of  it  along  the  Harlem  River, 
Putnam  being  placed  in  command  of  a  strong 
detachment  in  the  city. 


TOWARD    THE    SOUTH 


77 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  HIGHLANDS  AND  SANDY  HOOK 

T  ONG  before  stimmer-resorters  disported 
^  themselves  in  parti-colored  bathing  suits, 
before  processions  of  gay  parasols  paraded  along 
board-walks,  before  husbands  pined  in  Man- 
hattan's August  solitude,  the  same  stately 
highlands  rose  above  the  gleaming  sand  of  the 
New  Jersey  shore.  The  same  lean  peninsula 
of  Sandy  Hook  crooked  its  finger  out  into  the 
same  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  the  Navesink  River 
opened  its  wide  mouth  as  now,  near  the  Horse- 
shoe of  Sandy  Hook  Bay.  Although  we  of  to- 
day associate  this  country  with  the  bathing 
suits  and  the  parasols  of  lively  beaches,  its 
earlier  chapters  are  a  different  sort  of  tale. 
Here  lay  country  that  Washington  knew  well, 
and  Clinton  too — country  that  figured  in  the 
stirring  tales  of  the  Revolution.  And  here  the 
Pine  Robbers,  the  terror  of  Monmouth  County, 
burrowed  their  caves  in  the  sand-hills. 

You  will  recall   the  suggestions   quoted  in 
Chapter  I  from  a  guide-book  of  more  than  a 

79 


8o  SouitH-ward 

centiiry  ago — ^for  a  ''convenient  number"  of 
gentlemen  to  charter  a  boat  of  their  own  to  visit 
''Sandy  Hook  and  the  Sea-Bass  Banks.''  To- 
day it  is  not  necessary  to  charter  a  boat,  nor  to 
leave  the  ladies  behind  on  account  of  hardships. 
The  regular  line  of  steamboats  sailing  from  Man- 
hattan to  the  Atlantic  Highlands  will  carry  all 
travelers,  and  afford  them  a  sketchy  view  of  the 
Upper  Bay,  the  Narrows,  the  Lower  Bay,  and 
finally  Sandy  Hook  Bay. 

Setting  sail  from  North  River  you  pass  out 
into  New  York  Bay,  with  its  three  historic 
islands  in  sight:   Ellis,  Governor's,  and  Bedloe's. 

The  first  of  these  was  the  Gibbet  Island,  on 
which,  we  have  already  heard,  the  pirate  Gibbs 
was  hung.^  It  took  its  name  from  that  distin- 
guished person,  and  for  a  long  time  was  known 
thus.  Previous  to  this  it  had  been  called  Oyster 
Island,  by  the  Dutch  who  enjoyed  feasts  of  the 
bivalve  on  its  shores.  In  1808  the  National 
Government  bought  it  from  the  State,  placed  a 
magazine  there,  and  in  1891  turned  it  into  an 
immigrant  station.  It  is  now  used  for  this  pur- 
pose, and  can  be  visited  by  any  one  who  obtains 
a  pass  from  the  Commissioner  of  Immigration. 

Governor's  Island  is  one  of  our  most  interest- 
ing national  defenses.  The  Indians  used  to  call 
this  spot  of  land  "Pagganck, "  and  the  Dutch 
who  followed  them  named  it  Nut  Island.  Wouter 

» Chapter  IV. 


Two  •* Oyster  Islands*'  8i 

Van  Twiller  bought  it  from  the  Indians  in  1637 
and  made  himself  a  home  thereon,  establishing  a 
saw-mill.  About  the  end  of  the  same  century, 
the  Assembly  set  it  aside  for  the  benefit  of  the 
royal  governors,  and  its  present  name  was  given 
the  island. 

There  were  fortifications  there  in  the  time  of 
the  Revolution,  held  by  the  Americans  until 
their  defeat  on  Long  Island,  after  which  the 
British  took  Governor's  Island.  The  old  well 
belonging  to  the  early  works  is  still  to  be  seen  on 
the  east  side,  but  other  relics  have  disappeared. 
In  1794  the  beginning  of  the  present  works  was 
made.  Military  prisoners  were  confined  here 
during  the  Civil  War. 

Bedloe's  Island,  like  Ellis,  also  bore  the  name 
of  Oyster  Island  in  early  days.  Isaac  Bedloe 
obtained  this  land  by  patent  from  Governor 
NicoU,  and  held  it  until  his  death,  when  it 
passed  into  the  hands  of  Captain  Kennedy.  It 
came  into  the  possession  of  the  United  States 
Government  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  century. 
Fort  Wood  was  built  upon  it,  and  in  1883  the 
Statue  of  Liberty  was  erected.  France  presen- 
ted the  giant  bronze,  Bartholdi  being  chosen  as 
sculptor. 

Through  the  Narrows  you  pass  out  between 
Forts  Hamilton  and  Wadsworth  into  the  Lower 
Bay.  Together  they  frown  formidably  upon 
any  unwelcome  entrance  to  our  harbor.     Fort 


82  SoxitK-ward 

Hamilton  was  named  for  Colonel  Archibald 
Hamilton  who  was  a  well-known  commander  of 
British  forces.  At  this  point  Stonewall  Jackson 
and  General  Robert  E.  Lee  were  stationed 
before  the  Civil  War  drew  them  into  active  ser- 
vice. The  site  of  the  old  Simon  Cortelyou  house 
is  within  the  limits  of  the  fort,  a  building  which 
once  served  as  Howe's  headquarters. 

Cortelyou  was  disliked  by  Americans,  being 
a  hot  Tory,  and  a  most  cruel  one  in  his  treatment 
of  American  prisoners. 

Beyond,  on  the  left,  lies  Gravesend  Bay,  that 
curve  of  water  which  Coney  Island  forms  with 
the  line  of  the  mainland  of  Long  Island.  Here 
you  catch  glimmers  of  Revolutionary  history;  it 
was  on  this  shore  that  Howe  landed  his  troops, 
to  lead  them  to  the  Battle  of  Long  Island. 
In  this  bay  were  kept  the  British  prison  ships, 
cattle  transports  used  for  the  confinement  of 
prisoners  taken  in  battle,  and  many  Americans 
were  carried  to  them  after  the  Brooklyn  defeat. 
Later,  when  the  British  took  possession  of  New 
York,  they  were  removed  to  various  prisons  in 
the  city. 

Coney  Island  gets  its  present  name  from  the 
Dutch,  Conynge  Hook.  Guyspert  Op  Dyck 
obtained  this  curiously  shaped  strip  of  land  by 
grant  from  Governor  Kieft.  In  later  years  it 
was  divided  into  lots;  Thomas  Stilwell  bought 
the  entire  strip  in  1734.    Almost  a  century  later 


Old  Road  from  Middletown  83 

the  first  hotel  was  btdlt  there,,  showing  that  its 
value  as  a  resort  had  been  discovered;  by  the 
middle  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  it  had  entered 
upon  its  famous  career  as  an  amusement  center. 

Entering  Sandy  Hook  Bay,  you  pass  the  long 
Hook  itself,  with  its  famous  lighthouse  near  the 
tip. 

And  now  your  journey  bears  toward  the  land 
— ^into  New  Jersey.  You  are  to  find  an  old 
road,  clearly  defined  on  maps  a  century  old, 
rimning  from  the  Navesink  Highlands  back 
inland. 

One  such  map  shows  the  road  running  in  a 
westerly  direction  toward  Middletown  and 
dotted  by  a  few  farms,  marked  ''S.  Taylor,"  **E. 
Taylor,''  and  ''D.  Conover.*'  These  names, 
and  some  of  the  homes  of  that  period,  are  to  be 
found  to-day  along  the  old  road.  In  fact,  there 
lies  on  this  highway  a  hamlet  of  thirteen  houses 
which  is  almost  intact,  the  whole  hamlet  practi- 
cally as  it  was  in  Revolutionary  days.  Such 
a  discovery  is  rare  in  our  hurrying  America. 
Two  or  three  of  the  dwellings  are  called  by  the 
townspeople  "new'';  we  were  told  modestly  by 
one  resident  that  her  home  ''wasn't  old  at  all. 
Why,  it  was  only  built  for  grandmother  to 
come  to  when  she  was  a  bride,"  the  young 
matron  said  deprecatingly,  her  own  offspring 
playing  in  the  yard  while  she  discussed  the 
matter.     But   for   a  house  which  has  known 


84  SoutH-ward 

four  generations  to  be  counted  "new"  in  any 
commtinity  of  the  United  States  speaks  well 
for  that  community's  love  of  tradition. 

This  part  of  New  Jersey  throbbed  in  Revolu- 
tionary days;  not  many  miles  away  was  fought 
the  Battle  of  Monmouth,  and  hereabouts  soldiers 
marched  and  tarried.  The  journeyer  of  to-day 
who  seeks  the  old  road  must  allow  a  long  day  for 
the  water-and-land  trip,  and  avail  himself  of  a 
lunch  wherever  it  offers,  for  old  Cornelius 
Mount's  inn  has  passed  into  a  memory  these 
many  years,  and  no  longer  are  his  genial  smile 
and  his  brimming  mug  awaiting  the  wayfarer. 

From  the  boat-landing  at  Atlantic  Highlands, 
the  next  step  in  the  jaunt  is  to  Leonardo. 
Where  the  trolley  line  is  intersected  by  the 
road  to  Chapel  Hill  stands  a  fine  old  white  house 
of  colonial  period  surrounded  by  broad  grounds. 
This  house  has  been  in  the  Leonard  family 
for  many  generations.  James  and  Henry  were 
the  pioneers  of  the  family  in  this  region,  coming 
from  Massachusetts  where  they  had  settled  in 
1642.  They  had  built  ironworks  in  New  Eng- 
land, and  they  came  to  Monmouth  County 
in  New  Jersey  to  build  ironworks  for  James 
Grover.  Evidently  they  were  a  progressive 
family,  for  we  hear  of  '*Ye  Leonard's  Mill  in 
Middletown, ''  being  a  successf til  saw-mill  there. 
So  prominent  did  they  become  that  the  town 
Leonardo  was  named  for  them.    The  house, 


o 


u 


The  Village  Smithy  Containing  the  Ancient  Anvil,  at  Chapel  Hill. 


The  Old  Leonard  House  at  Leonardo. 


A  Quaint  Hamlet  85 

nucleus  of  all  the  village  around,  .is  preserved 
almost  in  its  original  form,  and  the  fine  old  raft- 
ers and  fireplaces  are  to  be  seen  to-day  by  the 
visitor  who  enters  the  colonial  doorway. 

The  Chapel  Hill  road"  which  runs  from  this 
house  back  to  the  old  road,  leading  for  perhaps 
a  mile  up  the  hill,  is  a  most  picturesque  way  for 
the  pedestrian.  For  a  stretch  it  passes  through 
unbroken  woodland,  again  fertile  farms  spread 
beyond  it;  here,  in  a  wild  blackberry  patch, 
a  group  of  freckled,  pigtailed  little  girls  are 
staining  fingers  and  lips.  Birds  chant  a  chorus, 
and  the  gorgeous  butterfly-weed  blazes  among 
many  equally  lovely  wild  flowers. 

Climbing  steadily  through  all  this  varied  mid- 
summer beauty,  you  see  no  goal  beyond  the 
road's  windings.  You  are  beginning  to  draw  the 
conclusion  that  Chapel  Hill,  the  hamlet  which 
you  were  told  would  mark  the  old  Middletown 
road,  is  a  myth.  Just  ahead  you  see  a  low  gray 
roof,  but  it  apparently  is  merely  another  isolated 
farmhouse  along  the  winding  road — which 
winds  once  again;  suddenly  the  roof  is  sur- 
rounded by  others,  and  you  find  yourself  con- 
fronted by  a  hamlet  on  this  lonely  height — ^the 
vision  of  it  is  as  sudden,  as  unexpected  as  if  it 
had  been  waved  into  being  by  a  wand.  Here, 
between  the  little  white  houses  which  face  each 
other  in  gossipy  intimacy,  runs  the  ancient  road 
you  are  seeking. 


86  SovitH'ward 

Chapel  Hill,  although  it  played  no  leadixig  r61e 
in  otir  nation's  history,  is  perhaps  the  quaintest 
spot  within  thirty  miles  of  New  York.  ''From 
Bill's  to  Hosford's"  it  extends,  this  curious, 
changeless  village  of  thirteen  houses.  Around  it 
lie  towns  of  far  greater  importance  both  in  the 
present  and  past:  Keyport,  Port  Monmouth, 
Middletown,  Red  Bank,  Shrewsbury;  but  the 
visitor  to  Chapel  Hill  will  call  the  trip  worth 
while  as  presenting  a  picture  remarkably  unique; 
calling  up  not  historic  events,  but  historic  times. 
It  is  as  if  one  came  suddenly  upon  a  typical 
American  village  of  Revolutionary  times  which 
had  been  in  some  magic  way  embalmed,  pre- 
served with  all  its  remoteness  and  withdrawal 
from  the  progressing  world.  The  inn,  the  ' '  store ' ' 
the  village  blacksmith  shop,  still  gather  with  the 
villagers'  homes  along  the  street.  Nobody  ever 
goes  to  it  (the  motorist  speeds  by,  but  doesn't 
know  its  name),  it  is  on  hardly  any  map,  it  draws 
itself  within  itself  here  on  the  Jersey  heights. 
The  houses  are  associated  with  such  names  as 
Mount,  Conover,  Taylor,  Hopping,  and  others, 
all  familiar  in  the  Revolutionary  period  of 
Monmouth  County. 

Cornelius  Mount's  inn  stands  to-day  used  as 
the  home  of  one  of  his  lineal  descendants,  Mrs. 
Patterson.  The  old  fireplace  around  which  the 
genial  Mount's  patrons  once  gathered  is  in  the 
living-room,  and  a  portrait  of  the  well-known 


A  Dixel  Challenge  87 

Hopping,  another  member  of  the  iamily,  hangs 
opposite.  This  was  the  only  public  inn  of  all 
the  region  except  at  Middletown,  and  great  was 
the  gayety  it  witnessed.  Edwin  Salter,  in  his 
History  of  Monmouth  and  Ocean  Counties,  gives 
a  characteristic  entry  from  an  inn  book  of  that 
period  in  New  Jersey,  and  Mr.  Mount's  entries 
were  doubtless  very  similar. 

1 767.  DOLLE  Y  HaGEMAN.  Dy. 

Jan.  2.     To  I  mug  of  Cider  &  yi  Dram 6 

To  I  mug  of  Beer .  6 

To  }i  Dram 2 

To  2  Mugs  of  Beer i 

Apr.  8.     To  I  Dram 4 

To  yi  Dram 2 

0.2.8 

Thus  did  the  frequenters  of  all  such  inns 
regale  themselves  in  those  days.  But  not  even 
in  those  days  could  every  inn  boast  a  duel 
challenge — and  such  a  challenge!  It  stands  to- 
day in  the  annals  of  the  old  Mount  house  that 
one  temperamental  gentleman,  probably  some- 
what the  worse  and  the  wittier  for  his  drams, 
thus  declared  himself  to  his  adversary: 

I  will  meet  you  at  Chapel  Hill, 
At  Sam  Cooper's  Still, 
Or  Loofburrow's  Mill, 
In  case  you  will. 

John  Loofburrow  had  a  mill  on  Maclise  Creek 


88  SoxitH-ward 

in  1684,  and  for  many  years  this  creek  was 
navigable  for  sloops  and  schooners  within  a 
half-mile  of  it. 

Three  of  the  Taylors  lived  near  by  and  were 
famous  Tories.  One  of  the  largest  houses  in 
Chapel  Hill  belongs  to  the  family. 

Near  the  western  end  of  the  village  street  the 
village  smithy  stands.  The  smith  is  not  exactly 
a  mighty  man  in  appearance,  but  he  is  a  very 
quaint  figure,  white-haired,  lean,  and  alert.  For 
thirty-eight  years  D.  H.  Irwin  has  toiled  at  that 
old  forge  in  the  little  shop  which  was  old  when 
he  fell  heir  to  it.  The  anvil  used  by  one  of  the 
original  Mounts  is  standing  beside  the  one  in 
present  use,  and  dates  so  far  back  that  ''the  Mr. 
Mount  who  lately  died  at  more  than  threescore- 
and-ten  told  me  that  it  was  old  when  he  was  a 
boy  and  his  father  was  using  it!''  Miss  Matilda 
Hall  informed  us. 

Miss  Hall  will  lead  you  down  the  street  into 
her  own  house,  and  down  cellar  to  a  mysterious 
corner  where  lurk  tomato  pickles  and  spiced 
currants  and  all  the  delightful  things  that  people 
don't  put  up  nowadays;  and  there  she  will  point 
out  the  deep  fireplace  with  its  old  Holland  bricks, 
brought  over  when  there  were  no  other  bricks 
convenient  to  Monmouth  County;  and  will  tell 
you  that  in  this  warm  corner  the  original  dwellers 
in  the  house  hid  from  Indian  assaults,  shooting 
up  through  the  cellar  window. 


The  Old  CKapel  89 

Still  another  tradition  clings  to  this  house.  It 
is  said  that  here,  during  the  Civil  War,  dwelt  one 
Glentworth,  a  stout  Secessionist  who  used  to 
buy  up  ammunition  for  Jeff  Davis.  In  the 
midst  of  the  loyal  Unionists  who  filled  this  region, 
he  hung  out  his  Southern  flag,  much  to  the 
indignation  of  all  who  saw  it.  Soon  there  came 
news  of  a  raid  plotted  at  Navesink — a  mob  to 
come  up  the  old  road  and  make  short  work  of 
dealing  with  the  Secessionist.  Their  plans  were 
carefully  laid,  and  the  raiders  set  out  for  Chapel 
Hill,  their  appetite  lusty  for  the  encounter.  But 
upon  arriving  at  the  summit,  all  they  saw  was  an 
innocent  Union  flag  peacefully  fluttering  from 
the  window.  Mr.  Glentworth  had  been  ap- 
prised of  the  mob's  intentions,  and  his  loyalty 
appeared  less  valuable  to  him  than  his  neck. 

The  chapel  from  which  this  village  acquired 
its  name  shows  the  only  sign  of  modern  changes 
in  the  group  of  buildings.  It  has  been  turned 
into  a  stable  and  garage,  which  event  marks  the 
final  chapter  of  the  little  church's  history.  For 
many  years  the  place  had  been  known  as  ''High 
Point,'*  until  about  1800,  when  this  Baptist 
meeting-house  was  erected,  and  the  name 
"Chapel  Hill"  was  given.  The  church  was 
organized  as  the  ''Independent  Baptist  Society 
and  Congregation  at  High  Point,  Middletown. " 
In  1829  a  Methodist  society  bought  it,  later  it 
was  sold  to  Deacon  Andrew  Brown  of  Middle- 


go  So\jtKi?vard 

town,  and,  as  the  flicker  of  life  gradually  faded 
from  the  little  village  on  the  hill,  it  resigned 
itself  to  the  past. 

From  Middletown  to  Water  Witch  the  old 
road  stretches,  a  motor  road  of  much  poptilarity 
to-day.  Starting  along  it  in  the  direction  of 
the  coast,  you  can  visit,  by  means  of  a  short 
detour,  the  Chapel  Hill  Lighthouse,  one  of  the 
range  lights  established  by  an  Act  of  Congress 
in  1852.  It  is  224  feet  above  the  sea  and  has 
a  second  order  lens.  This  light  and  Conover 
Beacon  on  the  beach  below  are  the  range  lights 
for  the  old  ship  channel,  for  outward-bound 
vessels.  The  two  are  almost  two  miles  apart. 
The  view  from  the  tower  of  this  light  commands 
the  long  strip  of  Sandy  Hook,  the  bay,  the  ocean 
beyond,  even  Manhattan  and  Brooklyn,  as  well 
as  miles  of  the  New  Jersey  shore. 

The  present  keeper,  Mr.  Wright,  sets  the  light 
shining  forth  every  evening;  as  it  falls,  its  first 
ray  strikes  a  certain  grave  in  the  old  cemetery 
below.  This  is  the  grave  of  Captain  George 
Porter,  former  keeper  of  the  light,  who  for  years 
tended  it  in  the  same  tower.  Porter  had  been  in 
the  Battle  of  Mobile  Bay  under  Farragut,  and 
was  the  only  signal  boy  in  the  Navy. 

As  you  return  and  follow  the  road  which  leads 
toward  the  Navesink  Highlands,  you  find  the 
stories  of  the  Battle  of  Monmouth  recurring 
to  your  mind.     From  some  of  the  Chapel  Hill 


TKe  Pine  Robbers  91 

houses,  so  runs  the  tradition,  mugs  of  ale  and 
bread  and  meat  were  passed  out  to  the  red- 
coats by  the  Tories  who  dwelt  in  this  village 
side  by  side  with  Whigs,  when  marches  led  the 
soldiers  to  this  road.  When  the  battle  was  over, 
Sir  Henry  Clinton,  after  remaining  a  few  days 
on  the  high  grounds  of  Middletown,  led  his  army 
in  this  direction  and  passed  them  over  from 
Sandy  Hook  to  New  York. 

In  his  official  dispatch  to  Lord  Germain  he 
wrote:  ''Having  reposed  the  troops  until  ten  at 
night  to  avoid  the  excessive  heat  of  the  day, 
I  took  advantage  of  the  moonlight  to  rejoin 
General  Knyphausen";  which  report  caused 
much  unholy  glee  among  patriots,  as  the  moon 
was  new  at  the  time. 

It  is  said  that  Monmouth  suffered  more 
than  any  other  Jersey  county  during  the  Revolu- 
tion, not  only  from  outrages  committed  by  the 
British  army,  but  from  the  depredations  of  the 
organized  outcasts  known  as  Pine  Robbers. 
They  pretended  to  be  Tories,  but  they  robbed 
Tories  and  Whigs  with  equal  facility.  Their^ 
btirrowed  caves  in  the  sand  hereabouts  con- 
cealed them,  also  the  pine  woods,  and  thence 
they  sallied  forth  to  plunder  and  murder. 

One  Fenton  was  the  arch-fiend  among  them — 
a  former  blacksmith  of  Freehold.  When  the 
vigilance  committee  warned  him  that,  if  he  did 
not  return  his  plunder,  he  would  be  shot,  he  sent 


92  SovitHijvarcl 

back  the  clothing  he  had  taken  from  a  tailor's 
shop,  but  added  in  a  note,  '*  I  have  rettirned  your 
damned  rags.  In  a  short  time  I  am  coming  to 
burn  your  barns  and  houses,  and  roast  you  all 
like  a  pack  of  kittens!"  At  the  head  of  a  gang 
he  attempted  to  do  this,  but  was  shot  by  a 
soldier. 

The  Refugees  had  a  strongly  fortified  settle- 
ment at  Sandy  Hook  known  as  ''Refugees' 
Town."  British  war  vessels  were  always  in 
the  vicinity,  cannon  defended  its  lighthouse,  and 
raids  were  made.  Captain  Joseph  Covenhoven 
was  one  of  their  prisoners. 

It  was  near  the  Highlands  that  Captain 
Joshua  Huddy  was  cruelly  hung  in  1782.  ''The 
Hero  of  Tom's  River, "  of  the  artillery  regiment, 
was  taken  while  commanding  a  blockhouse 
situated  near  the  bridge  at  the  village  of  Tom's 
River.  Lossing  gives  the  following  account  of 
the  ardent  Whig's  tragedy: 

"It  [the  blockhouse]  was  attacked  by  some 
refugees  from  New  York,  and  his  ammunition 
giving  out,  Huddy  was  obUged  to  surrender. 
Himself  and  companions  were  taken  to  New 
York,  and  afterward  back  to  Sandy  Hook 
and  placed,  heavily  ironed,  on  board  a  guard- 
ship.  On  the  1 2th  of  April,  sixteen  refugees, 
under  Captain  Lippincott,  took  Huddy  to 
Gravelly  Point,  on  the  shore  at  the  foot  of  the 
Navesink  Hills,  near  the  lighthouses,  and  hung 


DeatK  of  Captain  Huddx  93 

him  upon  a  gallows  made  of  three  rails.  He 
met  his  fate  with  compostire.  Upon  the  barrel 
on  which  he  stood  for  execution,  he  wrote  his 
will  with  an  unfaltering  hand.  His  murderers 
falsely  charged  him  with  being  concerned  in  the 
death  of  a  desperate  Tory,  named  Philip  White, 
which  occurred  while  Huddy  was  a  prisoner  in 
New  York.  To  the  breast  of  Huddy,  the  in- 
famous Lippincott  affixed  the  following  label: 
'We,  the  refugees,  having  long  with  grief  beheld 
the  cruel  murders  of  our  brethren,  and  finding 
nothing  but  such  measures  daily  carrying  into 
execution;  we  therefore  determine  not  to  stiff er, 
without  taking  vengeance  for  the  numerous 
cruelties;  and  thus  begin,  having  made  use  of 
Captain  Huddy  as  the  first  object  to  present  to 
yotir  view;  and  further  determine  to  hang  man 
for  man,  while  there  is  a  refugee  existing. 

'up  goes  huddy  for  PHILIP  WHITE ! ' 

*' Huddy 's  body  was  carried  to  Freehold,  and 
buLfied  with  the  honors  of  war." 

The  country  was  aroused  with  indignation 
over  this  murder,  as  it  was  declared  to  be. 
Washington  wrote  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  stating 
that  the  murderers  of  Huddy  must  be  given  up, 
or  he  should  take  retaliation  measures.  Upon 
Clinton's  refusal  to  comply,  it  was  determined, 
by  lot,  that  young  Captain  Asgill,  a  British 
officer,  shotild  be  executed.     But  the  color  of 


94  SoxitHivard 

affairs  changed;  it  was  found,  in  a  court-martial 
of  Lippincott,  that  he  had  received  from  the 
president  of  the  Board  of  Associated  Loyalists, 
orders  to  hang  Huddy  and  he  was  acquitted. 
Sir  Guy  Carleton,  having  succeeded  Clinton, 
wrote  to  Washington  reprobating  the  death  of 
Huddy  and  stating  that  he  had  brought  this 
Board  to  an  end.  Young  Asgill's  mother,  and 
the  French  minister,  had  meantime  written  to 
Washington  interceding  for  the  young  officer, 
and  he  was  finally  set  free.  Lossing  adds,  ''In 
a  humorous  poem,  entitled  Rivington's  ReflectionSy 
Philip  Preneau  thus  alludes  to  the  case  of  Asgill. 
He  makes  Rivington  (the  Tory  printer  in  New 
York)  say, 

*  I'll  petition  the  rebels  (if  York  is  forsaken) 
For  a  place  in  their  Zion  which  ne'er  shall  be  shaken. 
I  am  sure  they'll  be  clever;  it  seems  their  whole  study ; 
They  hung  not  young  Asgill  for  old  Captain  Huddy ; 
And  it  must  be  a  truth  that  admits  no  denying — 
If  they  spare  us  for  murder,  they'll  spare  us  for  lying.' " 

The  point  known  as  Water  Witch  was  named 
from  Cooper's  novel,  traditions  of  which  fill  this 
locality.  It  is  said  that  he  lived  in  a  cottage  here 
while  writing  the  book. 

A  tradition  of  Atlantic  Highlands  is  connected 
with  a  spring,  from  which  it  is  supposed  that 
Hendrick  Hudson  supplied  the  Half-Moon 
with  fresh  water  before  she  entered  the  Hudson 
River  in  1609. 


Chapel  Hill  Lighthouse^  Government  Range  Light,  224  Feet  above  the  Sea,  Commanding 

One  of  the  most  Remarkable  Views  of  New  York  Harbor. 

From  a  photograph  by  George  Wright. 


The  Old  Vanderbilt  House,  where  the  Commodore  Spent  his  Boyhood. 


The  Village  Blacksmith  at  Chapel  Hill 

Photograph  by  A.  R.  Coleman. 


Birds  and  Plants  95 

The  nature-lover  will  find  much  of  interest  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  Highlands.  Both  plant-  and 
bird-life  are  here  to  be  studied  in  great  variety. 
Many  fish-hawks'  nests  are  built  in  the  dead 
tree-tops  a  little  way  back  from  the  shore,  and 
we  surprised  one  pair  with  the  camera;  the 
mother  bird's  head  being  thrust  up  from  the 
nest  toward  her  arrogant  mate,  perched  above. 


CHAPTER  VII 

ON  STATEN  ISLAND  TO  OUDE  DORP 

CTAATEN  EYLAND,  as  Hendrick  Hudson 
^  named  it,  had  early  communication  with- 
Manhattan  Island,  as  well  as  with  New  Jersey. 
Ferries  developed  at  many  points,  and,  as  time 
went  on,  roads  led  from  their  landings  back  into 
Staten  Island,  thus  affording  many  opportunities 
to  the  journeyer  from  old  New  York. 

The  large  island  was  called  by  the  Indians 
''High  Sandy  Banks''  and  ''The  Place  of  Bad 
Woods,''  among  many  names.  The  Walloons 
had  first  settled  in  1624;  there  had  followed 
many  hardships  and  difficulties,  the  Indians 
causing  much  trouble;  the  Walloons  had  removed 
to  Long  Island,  and  after  this  the  dwelling  houses 
which  new  settlers  erected  were  near  the  Nar- 
rows, from  this  vicinity  back  to  Old  Town.  In 
1 66 1  the  Waldenses  came  to  the  island,  later 
the  Huguenots,  and  the  settlements  of  Old  Town 
and  Fresh  EdUs  grew.  Before  they  arrived,  the 
only  roads  were  narrow  paths  leading  through 

the  forest,  between  these  two  places;  as  the 

96 


Staten  Island  Settlers  97 

people  had  intercourse  with  no  one  but  the 
inhabitants  of  New  Amsterdam,  there  was  no 
demand  for  island  roads.  But  now,  with  new 
settlers  arriving,  there  came  to  be  intercourse 
on  the  island  itself,  and  roads  developed.  Is- 
landers made  ways  to  reach  the  two  churches, 
that  of  the  Waldenses  at  Stony  Brook,  and  that 
of  the  Huguenots  at  Fresh  Kills. 

As  more  and  more  settlers  arrived,  locating  for 
the  most  part  along  the  shores,  roads  followed 
their  courses  of  commimication.  These  outlined 
the  shores,  then  others  intersected  them,  leading 
back  into  the  island.  As  long  ago  as  when 
Clute  wrote  his  history,  he  stated  that  ''the 
Clove  Road  is  the  only  original  one  now  left.'* 

Staten  Island  began  to  be  interesting  histori- 
cally as  far  back  as  the  Seventeenth  Century. 
When  there  were  two  hundred  white  families 
living  within  its  limits,  there  were  two  thousand 
Indians.  Difficulties  naturally  arose,  and  from 
that  time  on  the  island  was  the  stage  of  many 
dramatic  events.  British  and  American  con- 
flicts took  place  on  its  soil,  Indian  raids,  settle- 
ments from  various  lands  with  their  attendant 
dramas;  in  fact,  at  no  period  in  early  America 
was  the  story  of  the  island  colorless. 

Within  a  few  miles  stretching  across  the  north- 
east corner  of  the  borough  of  Richmond  one  may 
find  enough  reminders  of  colonial  life,  of  Dutch 
settlements,  of  Revolutionary  events    to  last 


98  SoxxtK-ward 

for  hotirs  of  prowling.  In  the  early  part  of 
the  Nineteenth  Century  a  ''common  road"  ran 
from  what  is  now  St.  George  around  toward  the 
southeast,  keeping  close  to  the  shore,  and  leading 
on  to  the  vicinity  of  Arrochar.  In  following 
Bay  Street  of  to-day  you  are  approximating 
this  road. 

In  crossing  from  the  Battery  to  St.  George, 
review  the  story  of  New  York's  early  quaran- 
tines as  you  pass  their  locations.  Out  to  the 
right  where  the  Statue  of  Liberty  rises,  on  Bed- 
loe's  Island,  was  placed  the  first  important 
quarantine  station.  There  it  was  established 
in  1758,  long  before  the  Revolution,  when  our 
rapidly  increasing  commerce  and  the  incoming 
of  more  and  more  vessels  were  bringing  us 
many  infectious  diseases.  The  Government 
recognized  the  need  of  quarantine  measures,  and 
Bedloe's  Island  was  chosen,  and  used  for  this 
purpose  for  thirty-eight  years. 

The  station  was  then  moved  to  Governor's 
Island,  which  lies  at  your  left.  So,  until  1799, 
matters  ran  smoothly,  when  the  yellow  fever 
was  suddenly  imported  to  New  York,  and  the 
cry  of  alarm  arose.  Governor's  Island  being 
thought  too  near  the  city.  Commissioners  were 
appointed,  and  they  settled  upon  a  parcel  of 
land,  thirty  acres  on  the  Staten  Island  shore,  the 
property  of  St.  Andrew's  Church.  Much  dis- 
turbance was  caused  by  this  measure;  the  church 


Quarantine  Excitement  99 

objected,  the  islanders  objected,  but  ''the  right 
of  eminent  domain"  carried  the  day. 

Therefore  the  quarantine  was  established. 
After  you  leave  the  ferry  station  uX  St.  George 
you  will  cross  a  short  bridge  over  railroad  tracks 
and  a  short  distance  beyond,  at  the  left,  stands 
the  Lighthouse  Reservation;  this  enclosure  is  a 
part  of  the  old  quarantine.  Good  buildings 
were  erected  and  the  work  of  equipping  them 
for  wards  went  on,  under  protest  from  the  first. 
During  the  first  year  there  were  twenty-five  cases 
of  imported  disease  on  the  island,  outside  the 
boundaries  of  the  station,  and  twenty-four  of 
the  twenty-five  were  fatal.  The  indignation  of  the 
citizens  waxed.  The  years  that  followed  spread 
other  diseases.  Petitions  brought  promises  but 
no  fulfillment;  it  was  said  that  the  station  was 
to  be  removed  to  Sandy  Hook,  but  this  was  as 
far  as  the  matter  went.  Finally  the  Board  of 
Health  of  Castleton  called  upon  the  citizens, 
gathered  them  in  a  body,  and  the  result  was 
sensational  and  drastic  action. 

Fully  prepared,  absolutely  cool  in  method,  a 
body  of  citizens  entered  the  quarantine,  removed 
every  patient  with  the  utmost  care  (not  one 
was  in  the  least  injured),  then  calmly  set 
about  burning  down  the  buildings.  Only  one 
building  survived.  That  one  you  can  see 
to-day,  a  storage  house  now  for  the  lighthouse 
supplies. 


ido  SoutH^ward 

This  reservation  is  full  of  interest  for  its 
present  as  well  as  for  its  past.  It  is  head- 
quarters for  United  States  lighthouse  supplies 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific;  thence  are 
sent  forth  lights,  lenses,  clocks,  all  the  apparatus 
which  keeps  the  lights  shining  from  Casco  Bay 
to  the  Golden  Gate.  Government  buoys,  too, 
are  shipped  from  this  point. 

Near  here,  at  154  Stuyvesant  Place,  is  a  large, 
old-fashioned  house  marked  '* Public  Museum.'' 
The  collection  includes  many  old  documents, 
books,  relics,  coins,  and  so  on  relating  to  the 
colonial  period  on  the  island,  and  one  of  the 
treasures  displayed  is  the  original  bell  of 
the  ancient  Richmond  courthouse.  A  complete 
model  of  the  historic  Billopp  house  is  of  parti- 
cular interest  to  those  who  have  not  the  courage 
to  take  the  rather  trying  walk  to  ferret  out 
this  old  residence  in  Tottenville. 

The  museum  is  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Staten  Island  Association  of  Arts  and  Sciences, 
and  occupies  two  floors  of  the  building.  It  is 
maintained  by  an  annual  budget  appropriation 
from  the  city  of  New  York.  It  possesses  one  of 
the  most  complete  collections  in  existence  of 
Staten  Island  Indian  relics,  claiming,  under  the 
head  of  archaeology,  about  fifteen  thousand 
native  specimens. 

Returning  to  the  shore,  and  following  along 
Bay   Street,   you  will    come  to  a    dilapidated 


Old  Planters*  Hotel  lOl 

building  standing  at  the  corner  of  Grant  Street, 
a  sign  of  ''Furnished  Rooms"  hanging  before  its 
door.  Behind  its  decay,  the  building  reveals 
a  suggestion  of  ancient  prosperity.  It  is  well 
built  of  brick,  with  an  old  veranda  running 
across  the  front  and  low  windows  above  opening 
upon  this;  it  has  an  old  Dutch  slant  to  its  roof, 
with  a  chimney  at  each  end;  and  the  numerous 
windows  which  indicate  a  hostelry.  This  dingy, 
mournful,  down-at-heel  edifice  was  the  famous 
old  Planters'  Hotel,  where  wealthy  and  aristo- 
cratic Southerners  used  to  assemble  and  exchange 
genial  southern  stories  in  the  early  eighteen- 
hundreds.  Here  in  Tompkins ville  the  building 
was  erected  by  a  Southerner  in  1820  and  con- 
ducted especially  for  southern  visitors  in  New 
York,  the  early  planters.  In  later  years,  when 
its  clientage  had  melted  away,  it  became  a  boys' 
academy,  and  since  that  period  it  has  gradually 
degenerated.  But  its  importance  is  indicated 
by  the  fact  that  upon  Eddy's  map  of  1828  it  is 
marked  ''Planters'  Hotel"  as  if  it  represented  a 
large  local  center. 

Just  to  the  south  of  it  was  the  old  Van  Duzer's 
Ferry — ^this  name  of  Dutch  days  being  still 
perpetuated  on  the  island.  Vanderbilt's  Peri- 
auger  Ferry,  from  Stapleton,  ran  in  opposition 
to  it  about  1800-17. 

Continuing  on  Bay  Street,  you  will  come  to 
the  intersection  of  Clinton.    By  making  a  short 


I02  So-utH^ward 

detour  here,  ttirning  up  Clinton  Street  to  the 
right,  you  will  reach  old  Pavilion  Hill,  or  Mt. 
Tompkins,  or  Mt.  Pavilion,  or  Cow  Hill,  as 
the  height  has  been  disrespectfully  called.  All 
names  have  been  applied  to  the  one  elevation 
which  offers  a  stiff  climb  and  a  fine  water  view 
at  the. top.  Not  so  very  long  ago  there  were 
still  to  be  seen  traces  of  the  old  fortifications; 
no  sign  remains  now  except  a  sort  of  excavation 
where  some  of  the  stonework  stood.  The 
view  of  shore  and  bay  is  one  of  the  finest  which 
Staten  Island  presents. 

In  1776  Sir  William  Howe  and  his  brother 
Lord  Howe  had  arrived  on  the  island.  Half  of 
their  men  were  encamped  there  and  they  them- 
selves were  entertained  at  the  Rose  and  Crown, 
a  famous  inn.  The  British  now  set  about  throw- 
ing up  breastworks  here  and  there  near  the  shore, 
and  two  forts  were  built  on  Pavilion  Hill,  as  it 
offered  a  most  tempting  position.  During  the 
stressful  times  of  18 12  the  Americans  rebuilt 
these  fortifications,  and  so  for  many  years  the 
hill  was  strongly  fortified. 

Long  after  it  ceased  to  be  used  as  a  point  of 
defense  it  became  a  popular  Sunday  resort  and 
was  known  as  Mt.  Pavilion. 

Returning  to  Bay  Street  and  following  it  to  the 
corner  of  Congress,  you  will  find  one  of  the 
Vanderbilt  houses  at  the  right.  This  one  is 
huge  and  imposing,  with  massive  colonial  pillars 


Vanderbilt's  Boyhood  103 

framing  its  doorway.  Although  its-  yard  is 
unkempt,  and  the  encroachment  of  business  has 
robbed  it  of  its  beauty,  its  magnificence  is  still 
sufficient  to  give  it  dramatic  contrast  with  the 
other  home  of  the  same  Cornelius  Vanderbilt, 
only  a  few  doors  further  on.  The  earlier  home 
stands  at  the  corner  of  Union  Street;  it  is  a 
htunble  little  old  white  farmhouse,  built  by  his 
mother,  Mrs.  Phoebe  Vanderbilt;  it  was  his 
boyhood's  home  before  he  erected  his  own 
mansion  near  by. 

Morris  tells  an  entertaining  and  illumining 
story  of  young  Vanderbilt  when  fifteen  years  old. 
It  seems  that  he  had  entertained  fantastic  and 
boyish  visions  of  going  to  sea  and  adventuring; 
to  make  these  dreams  practical,  his  mother 
offered  him  a  reward  of  one  hundred  dollars  with 
which  he  might  buy  a  boat,  provided  he  accom- 
plished an  almost  impossible  farm  task.  Young 
Cornelius  immediately  laid  the  project  before 
some  of  his  boy  friends,  promised  them  sails  in 
the  boat  if  they  would  help  him  win  it,  and  the 
task  was  forthwith  accomplished.  Instead  of 
seeking  treasure  islands  or  playing  hookey  to  loaf 
in  his  boat,  he  conceived  the  idea  of  ferrying 
passengers  back  and  forth  to  the  island,  which 
he  did  for  eighteen  cents  a  trip.  By  the  end  of 
the  first  year  he  not  only  paid  his  mother  for  the 
boat,  but  had  cleared  one  thousand  dollars. 
By  the  end  of  the  next  year  he  had  cleared 


I04  So\itH-ward 

another  thousand  and  had  secured  a  fractional 
interest  in  sorae  more  boats.  He  often  went 
without  his  meals  to  carry  excursion  parties 
across.  During  the  War  of  1812  his  business 
became  tremendous.  And  so  begins  a  story  of 
transportation. 

The  small  farmhouse  is  much  dilapidated,  but 
its  outline  is  preserved,  and  it  forms  a  good 
example  of  the  old  Dutch  type  of  building. 
Here  the  Commodore's  wife  died. 

Still  further  along  on  Bay  Street  you  come  to 
the  Marine  Hospital  on  high  ground  at  your 
right,  overlooking  the  bay.  Just  behind  the 
modern  building  the  old  Seaman's  Retreat  was 
built  more  than  a  century  ago;  this  was  the 
original  hospital  building  of  the  Marine  Society 
of  New  York.  Later  the  property  was  taken 
by  the  United  States,  and  it  was  made  over 
into  a  government  hospital  with  fine  modern 
equipment,  accommodating  many  patients.  At 
the  western  end  of  the  land  the  Retreat  laid 
out  its  cemetery;  Clute  says,  **Here  poor  Jack 
finds  a  quiet  resting  place  by  the  side  of  his 
comrades  when  his  life  of  hardship,  privations 
and  peril  is  ended. " 

St.  George,  Tompkinsville,  Stapleton,  Clifton, 
and  Rosebank  are  the  villages  passed  along  this 
northeastern  shore.  Rosebank  offers  a  worth- 
while detour,  to  the  house  once  occupied  by 
Giuseppe  Garibaldi.     It  is  reached  by  turning 


The  Public  Museum  of  St.  George,  where  many  Valuable  Historic  Relics  are  Shown. 


The  Old  Planters^  Hotel,  the  Resort  of  Wealthy  Southerners  almost  a  Century  Ago, 
on  Bay  Street,  Staten  Island. 


The  Only  Building  Left  of  the  Ancient  Quarantine,     Others 
Burned  by  Citizens  in  1858.     Near  St.   George  Ferry. 


The  Garibaldi  House,  Staten  Island. 


Garibaldi  in  America  105 

into  Chestnut  Avenue,  and  is  found  on. a  knoll 
at  the  corner  of  Tompkins  Avenue. 

The  memorial  is  curious  in  conception.  So 
dilapidated  was  the  house  when  public  senti- 
ment awakened  to  the  thought  of  preserving  it, 
that  it  was  obvious  it  could  not  stand  many 
years  of  weather-beating;  therefore  a  sub- 
stantial cement  structure  was  built  to  enclose 
the  old  wooden  building,  leaving  the  latter  open 
to  the  view  of  the  public,  although  sheltered. 
A  bronze  bust  of  the  Italian  stands  at  the 
entrance,  and  a  tablet. 

During  the  years  which  Garibaldi  spent  in 
this  country,  he  became  a  most  poptdar  citizen 
of  Staten  Island.  He  entered  into  business 
enterprises  as  if  he  were  one  of  us ;  he  made 
warm  friends  of  his  neighbors;  he  took  the  first 
three  degrees  in  Freemasonry  in  Tompkins 
Lodge,  No.  401,  then  at  Tompkinsville. 

It  is  natural  that  the  ardent  and  democratic 
spirit  of  the  Italian  patriot  should  have  appealed 
to  the  sympathies  of  Americans,  and  that  these 
warm  friendships  should  have  arisen.  His  love 
of  adventure,  his  roving  life  and  shifting  fortunes 
— ^he  had  been  drover,  shipbroker,  and  teacher 
of  mathematics  in  South  America,  in  addition  to 
his  better  known  lines  of  endeavor  in  Europe — 
were  full  of  charm  to  a  country  still  in  the  mak- 
ing, whose  people  had  faced  adventure  and  met 
shifting  fortunes  themselves.     It  has  been  said 


io6  ScutK-ward 

of  him,  "He  will  always  remain  the  central  figure 
in  the  story  of  Italian  independence. " 

While  in  Staten  Island  he  worked  as  a  candle- 
maker  for  eighteen  months,  after  which  he 
became  captain  of  various  merchantmen.  He 
returned  to  Italy  in  1854. 

Let  us  return  to  the  shore.  At  the  narrow 
point  where  the  division  between  Upper  and 
Lower  New  York  Bay  is  formed  by  the  close 
proximity  of  Staten  and  Long  Islands,  Fort 
Wadsworth  stands.  Opposite,  on  the  Long 
Island  shore,  stands  Fort  Hamilton;  together 
they  command  this  entrance  to  our  harbor. 
This  situation  was  one  of  the  points  chosen  by- 
Sir  William  Howe  in  1776,  at  the  same  time 
that  he  chose  Pavilion  Hill,  for  British  forti- 
fications. 

He  caused  an  especially  strong  defense  to  be 
erected  here,  and  when  it  was  abandoned  at  the 
end  of  the  Revolution  it  remained  as  it  was  until 
the  trouble  of  1812  prompted  the  strengthening 
of  its  position.  During  that  war  time.  Governor 
Daniel  D.  Tompkins  of  New  York  State  had 
two  stone  forts,  called  Tompkins  and  Richmond, 
erected  on  these  heights  above  the  Narrows. 
Still  another  renaissance  took  place  after  this  war 
was  over,  when,  in  1847,  the  reservation  was 
bought  by  the  United  States  Government. 
The  old  forts  were  demolished  and  new  works 
built,  and  the  present  Fort  Wadsworth  encloses 


Last  SHot  of  tHe  Revol\ition  IC7 

the  old  Fort  Tompkins  and  is  kept  up  to  date  in 
its  improvements. 

The  last  shot  of  the  Revolution  was  fired  at 
this  fort  by  a  British  gunboat  on  Evacuation 
Day  in  1783,  because  the  Staten  Island  onlookers 
were  so  openly  derisive.  This  parting  shot  was 
apparently  a  sort  of  final  expression  of  opinion — 
and  the  war  was  over. 

A  short  walk  along  the  line  of  the  trolley  brings 
you  to  the  district  known  as  Arrochar  Park — 
''right  where  them  two  saloons  stand  on  the  top 
o'  the  hill,"  according  to  a  local  direction. 
Although  nothing  of  particular  interest  catches 
the  eye  to-day,  this  part  is  of  great  historical 
importance,  for  it  is  the  site  of  Oude  Dorp,  or 
Old  Town,  the  first  settlement  by  Europeans  on 
Staten  Island.  Authorities  have  debated  over 
the  exact  location  of  this  ancient  settlement,  but 
it  seems  generally  accepted  that  it  lay  to  the  west 
of  Port  Wadsworth,  near  the  blockhouse  which 
was  built  on  the  heights,  and  that  the  present 
Arrochar  practically  corresponds  with  its  location. 

Here,  in  1641,  the  little  hamlet  was  com- 
menced. Seven  Dutch  cottages  were  erected 
by  diligent  settlers.  The  building  was  with 
stones  fotmd  on  the  shore,  with  lumber  hewn 
from  the  virgin  forest,  with  shells  picked  up  on 
the  shore  and  ground  for  mortar.  The  settlers 
engaged  in  fur  trading  and  farming,  and  entered 
upon  a  peaceful,  busy  life. 


lo8  SoiitKivarcl 

It  was  not  long,  however,  before  trouble  with 
the  Indians  began.  Governor  Kieft  had  a 
distillery  which  may  have  stood  at  Oude  Dorp,  at 
any  rate  on  the  island,  and  from  it  the  Indians 
obtained  rum  which  made  them  exceedingly 
intoxicated.  Excited  by  drink,  imposed  upon 
by  certain  white  persons,  they  took  to  disturbing 
the  innocent  settlers  of  Oude  Dorp,  and  before 
the  year  was  out  five  tribes  had  banded  to- 
gether, had  descended  upon  the  struggling  little 
town,  and  burned  it,  slaying  almost  all  the  in- 
habitants. Those  who  escaped  joined  the  sol- 
diers at  the  blockhouse  and  made  off  across  the 
Narrows. 

A  second  time  the  town  was  built,  and  now 
eleven  tribes  banded  together  and  repeated  their 
destruction.  Finally  de  Vries,  the  patroon 
of  Staten  Island,  succeeded  in  making  peace 
with  the  tribes  and  still  again  the  farmhouses 
were  built,  in  1644.  Such  persistence  and  forti- 
tude were  characteristic  of  the  Hollanders. 
But  the  following  year  trouble  arose  again.  A 
squaw  was  seen  by  Hendrick  Van  Dyck,  stealing 
peaches  in  his  garden;  he  shot  in  sudden  anger 
and  killed  the  woman,  and  the  famous  '*  Peach 
War ''  opened.  To  avenge  the  squaw's  death  the 
tribes  descended,  sixty-four  canoes  arriving  and 
nineteen  hundred  savage  fighters,  and  in  a  short 
time  Oude  Dorp  met  its  end.  This  was  its  end 
indeed;  the  Old  Town  never  had  the  courage  to 


THe  Old  Vreeland  Homestead       109 

rebmld,  and  the  settlement  vanished,  into  a 
memory. 

A  little  further  on  is  South  Beach,  a  people's 
playground,  where  peanut,  ice-cream  and  chew- 
ing gum  consumption  is  going  on  under  the 
nose  of  history.  The  landmark  of  interest  which 
formerly  stood  at  this  point  has  been  demolished; 
it  was  the  old  Vreeland  homestead,  still  another 
representative  of  the  early  Dutch  farmhouses 
on  the  island. 

The  ''common  road*'  which  followed  the  line 
of  the  shore  a  century  ago  swung  westward  at  a 
point  north  of  Fort  Richmond  and  joined  itself 
to  another  road  leading  from  that  fort  inland. 
Converging,  they  made  a  southwesterly  way, 
much  as  the  Rapid  Transit  runs  to-day;  united, 
they  brought  up  eventually  at  Tottenville,  where 
the  road  continued  in  the  form  of  a  ferry  to  Perth 
Amboy. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


TO  OLD   RICHMOND 


IN  the  heart  of  Staten  Island  is  the  village  of 
Richmond,  once  a  most  important  center 
and  coimty  seat.  A  main  road  ran  to  it,  pene- 
trating one  of  the  island's  finest  districts,  both  as 
farming  land  and  from  the  standpoint  of  beauty; 
for  the  hills  in  and  about  Richmond  offer  the 
best  of  views.  To-day  the  road  running  past 
Emerson  Hill,  Dongan  Hills,  and  New  Dorp, 
arrives  at  the  same  village  and  suggests  the  old 
route  while  not  following  it  exactly. 

The  land  rises  from  St.  George  on  the  beach, 
and  reaches  a  fine  height  in  Emerson  Hill,  named 
for  the  owner  of  the  house  which  once  stood  there 
and  its  successor — ^Judge  William  Emerson.  He 
was  a  brother  of  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  and 
there  are  many  Staten  Island  associations  con- 
nected with  both  men.  Judge  Emerson  was  a 
New  Englander,  a  Harvard  graduate,  and  a  close 
friend  of  his  more  famous  brother.  He  built  a 
house  familiarly  known  as  ''The  Snuggery" 
which  stood  on  this  steep  tract  of  land;  this  was 

no 


Emerson's  "Snxi^^ery *'  ill 

burned,  and  replaced  by  the  building  which  now 
stands,  a  substantial  old  home  of  dignified 
proportions.  Judge  Emerson  made  his  home  on 
the  hill  from  1837  to  1856,  and  here  his  literary 
brother  often  visited  him.  It  is  supposed  that 
the  author  wrote  many  of  his  poems  here,  and 
also  his  Representative  Men  lectures,  which  he 
delivered  afterwards  in  England.  The  name 
''Snuggery**  was  especially  fitting  to  the  com- 
fortable, genial,  hospitable  atmosphere  which 
this  family  always  created. 

An  interesting  modern  feature  of  Emerson 
Hill  is  the  Japanese  garden  laid  out  by  Mr.  C.  T. 
Brown.  A  curved  Japanese  bridge,  sharp  ter- 
races, and  curious  ancient  lamps  are  suggestive 
of  the  Orient  in  a  spot  adapted  by  nature  to  the 
picture. 

From  this  point  on  toward  Richmond,  old 
houses  marking  early  settlements  are  to  be  seen 
from  time  to  time.  One  of  these  is  the  Perrine 
homestead  at  Dongan  Hills,  close  beside  the 
Richmond  Road.  It  was  built  in  1668  and  for 
two  hundred  years  remained  in  the  possession 
of  one  family.  An  addition  has  been  built,  but 
the  old  part  still  remains  intact  and  can  be 
recognized  by  its  picturesque  shabbiness  of 
drooping  roof  and  stained  walls,  and  by  the 
quaint  bushes  of  wax  berries  which  grow  about 
its  gate  and  worn  path  to  the  door. 

Further  along  the  road  you  will  come  to  New 


112  SoutH-ward 

Dorp  with  its  old  Moravian  church.  The  pres- 
ent building  dates  only  from  1845,  but  the  first 
worshipers  of  this  faith  on  the  island  arrived 
much  earlier.  Captain  Nicholas  Garrison  is  said 
to  have  been  the  first  Moravian  to  settle  there. 
The  story  goes  that  he  commanded  a  ship  sailing 
from  Georgia  to  New  York,  and  on  the  voyage  a 
violent  storm  was  encountered.  One  of  the  pas- 
sengers was  Bishop  Spangenburg;,  he  remained 
calm  during  the  peril,  praying  constantly  for 
the  survival  of  the  ship.  The  storm  subsided, 
all  reached  port  in  safety,  and  ever  after  the 
pious  Bishop  and  the  brave  Captain  were  the 
firmest    friends. 

This  vessel  had  been  built  for  the  use  of  the 
Moravians,  or  United  Brethren,  on  Staten 
Island,  between  the  years  of  1745  and  1748,  and 
Bishop  Spangenburg  had  given  almost  its  entire 
cost  out  of  his  liberal  purse.  For  nine  years  the 
ship  remained  in  the  service  of  the  church,  cross- 
ing the  Atlantic  from  New  York  to  London  or 
Amsterdam,  and  once  traveling  all  the  way  to 
Greenland.  She  crossed  the  ocean  twenty-four 
times  in  all,  and  bore  an  excellent  reputation 
for  seaworthiness. 

During  their  earliest  years  on  the  island,  the 
Moravians  held  services  in  a  school.  In  1756  it 
is  said  that  there  were  only  three  communicant 
members  on  the  island,  these  being  Jacobus 
Vanderbilt  and  his  wife  Vettje,  and  Elizabeth 


TKe  Moravian  CKvircK  1 13 

Inyard,  a  widow.  It  was  not  until  1762. that  a 
number  of  persons  applied  for  the  establishment 
of  a  chtirch.  Cortelyou,  Vanderbilt,  and  Perrine 
were  among  the  names  on  this  list.  The  original 
letter,  expressing  the  desire  that  a  church  be 
established  at  New  Dorp,  near  the  home  of  the 
early  colony  of  Waldenses,  is  now  among  the 
archives  at  Bethlehem,  Pennsylvania. 

In  the  following  year  (1763)  the  corner  stone 
of  the  church  and  parsonage  was  laid.  It  was 
then  the  custom  to  erect  these  buildings  all  in 
one,  and  this  building  is  still  standing,  although 
worship  is  held  in  the  newer  church. 

The  old  building  has  seen  stirring  times. 
There  was  a  night  during  the  Revolution  when 
British  soldiers  broke  into  the  parsonage  and 
wrought  havoc,  destroying  all  the  furniture  on 
which  they  could  lay  their  hands.  What  was 
far  more  serious  to  the  members  of  the  old 
congregation,  the  enemy  carried  off  the  precious 
archives,  and  except  for  the  law  providing  that 
duplicates  of  every  official  record  shall  be  kept, 
there  would  now  be  a  sadly  broken  line  of  history 
to  record  the  Moravians'  experiences. 

Much  w:ealth  came  into  the  church  through  the 
generosity  of  the  Vanderbilt  family.  The  mau- 
soleum now  to  be  seen  on  the  hill  behind  the 
church  is  surrounded  by  a  large  tract  of  land, 
the  entire  cost  of  land  and  structure  amounting 
to  almost  a  million  dollars.     In  both  property 


114  SoxitHiRrard 

and  money  the  family  gave  largely  to  the  church. 
William  H.  Vanderbilt,  his  son,  and  his  grandson 
are  all  buried  here. 

The  original  building  was  given  over  to  the 
uses  of  a  school  and  a  dwelling  house  when  the 
new  edifice  was  put  up.  It  bears  the  tradition 
of  being  the  first  house  of  worship  on  the  island 
in  which  an  organ  was  used. 

Across  the  street  from  the  church  and  ceme- 
tery stands  a  dejected  little  residence,  its  lines 
practically  unaltered  from  early  days.  This 
was  the  home  of  Aaron  Cortelyou.  Many  years 
ago  a  burglary  was  committed  in  this  house  by 
a  negro  who  paid  the  penalty  on  a  gallows  erected 
on  the  site  of  the  present  school  at  Richmond. 
This  was  the  first  legal  execution  in  Richmond 
County. 

You  have  passed  beside  Todt  Hill  while  fol- 
lowing the  road;  that  hill  whose  name  has  led 
to  many  a  debate  among  historians  and  many  a 
facetious  tale  among  fictionists.  It  rises  from 
the  Richmond  Road  at  Garretsons,  the  district 
now  known  as  Dongan  Hills.  Some  of  the  early 
writers  traced  its  name  to  a  Dutch  word,  say- 
ing that  during  the  days  of  battles  with  Indians 
on  the  island,  a  number  of  Dutch  settlers  were 
killed  in  a  sharp  conflict  on  this  hill,  and  thus 
arose  the  name  Todt,  or  Death  Hill. 

Others  have  claimed  that  the  correct  name 
was  "Toad,"  and  the  tradition  still  lives  of  the 


The  Cortelyou  Homestead  at  New  Dorp. 


The  Moravian  Church  at  New  Dorp. 


The  Old  Richmond  Court-IIouse. 


The  Old  Perrine  Homestead,  Dongan  Hills. 


Witches  and  Whipping  Post         115 

origin  of  this.  It  is  said  that  a  charming  maiden 
resided  on  this  hill,  courted  by  more  than  one 
gallant.  A  certain  one  of  the  number  was  a  most 
unwelcome  guest  at  her  home,  and  upon  one 
occasion  she  secretly  dropped  a  toad  or  two  into 
his  pockets,  by  way  of  practical  joke.  He  took 
the  hint  that  his  society  was  not  desired,  and 
stayed  away,  but  his  friends  learned  of  the  joke 
and  thereafter  teased  him  to  such  an  extent 
about  his  visits  to  ''Toad  Hill"  that  the  name 
stuck. 

Stony  Brook  is  included  in  New  Dorp.  Here 
the  Waldenses  settled  about  the  middle  of  the 
Seventeenth  Century,  thus  forming  the  second 
settlement  upon  the  island.  The  first  courthouse, 
jail,  and  church  were  erected  here.  Witches 
who  made  themselves  unpopular  upon  the  island 
were  punished  at  Stony  Brook's  ancient  whip- 
ping post.  Farmers  gathered  here  with  their 
produce  on  marketing  days. 

After  the  French  and  Indian  War,  General 
Monckton  rested  here  with  his  army  for  a  period 
of  several  weeks.  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  was  in- 
vested with  the  Order  of  the  Bath  during  this 
time,  on  October  25,  1761.  Dtiring  the  Civil 
War  there  was  a  military  post  in  New  Dorp. 

Beyond  the  Moravian  Cemetery,  still  within 
the  limits  of  New  Dorp,  the  road  curves,  and  at 
the  curve,  on  a  rambhng  building,  hangs  a  sign 
which  calls  up  some  of  the  spiciest  memories 


Il6  SoutH^ward 

of  Revolutionary  days,  when  the  rollicking 
British  soldiers  made  their  headquarters  here, 
played  their  games  and  fought  their  duels. 
The  sign,  in  modern  lettering,  is  ''Black  Horse 
Tavern." 

Fortunately  the  successive  proprietors  of  the 
old  road  house  have  had  enough  sentiment,  or  eye 
for  popularity,  to  preserve  the  name  as  it  stood 
in  the  seventeen-hundreds  when  it  was  famous 
from  end  to  end  of  the  island.  Origiiially  there 
were  two  of  these  inns:  (their  stories  are  to  be 
found  in  Morris's  History)  the  Rose  and  Crown, 
where  Sir  William  Howe  stayed,  and  kept  part 
of  his  staff,  and  summoned  his  generals  in 
cotmcil;  and  the  Black  Horse,  where  other 
members  of  the  staff  stayed  and  where  most 
of  the  revelry  was  carried  on.  The  Rose  and 
Crown  has  long  since  disappeared.  The  Black 
Horse  has  been  altered  and  added  to,  but  the 
main  portion  of  the  old  building  is  to  be  seen. 

Mine  host  of  to-day  is  as  ruddy  and  genial  as 
we  assujne  the  host  of  old  to  have  been.  In  his 
family  dining-room  he  proudly  displays  the  old 
beams,  encased  in  pine,  stretching  sturdily  across 
the  ceiling.  But  his  treasure  of  treasures  is 
the  ancient  sign-board,  the  original,  which  used 
to  sway  before  the  door  and  beckon  the  passing 
soldier  to  the  hospitality  within. 

It  is  said  that  one  Lieutenant-Colonel  Benton, 
a  close  friend  of  Howe's,  was  the  possessor  of  a 


Si^xi  of  tHe  BlacK  Horse  117 

dashing  black  charger  which  had  won  a  -long  list 
of  races  in  old  New  Dorp  Lane.  At  one  time 
when  Howe  was  reviewing  some  of  his  men,  Ben- 
ton mounted  the  animal  and  rode  bravely  forth 
to  make  a  goodly  display.  The  horse  suddenly 
became  alarmed  and  ran,  Benton  losing  control 
completely,  and  in  its  fright  the  beast  hurled 
itself  against  a  wall  of  rock  killing  both  itself 
and  its  rider.  Curiously  enough,  it  struck  the 
fancy  of  the  group  of  onlookers  to  call  the  tavern 
''The  Black  Horse''  as  a  strange  memorial  to 
this  incident.  A  British  soldier  who  happened 
to  have  a  knack  with  the  brush  painted  the  sign- 
board. For  long  it  swung  outside  the  door,  but 
the  weathers  of  many  winters  were  damaging  it 
so  much  that  it  was  taken  down  a  few  years  ago 
and  is  now  preserved  indoors  where  any  traveler 
may  see  it.  The  old  painting  is  faint  but  still 
traceable,  and  the  richly  weathered  wood  is 
peppered  with  bullet  holes. 

The  sign  has  had  adventures  of  its  own. 
After  the  Revolution  it  disappeared,  and  hvas 
not  found  until  a  neighboring  barn,  upon  being 
torn  down,  revealed  the  shabby  sign  under  its 
piles  of  rubbish.  It  was  immediately  restored 
to  its  old  position. 

Long  years  after  the  great  war,  the  old  pro- 
prietor of  the  inn  used  to  receive  visits  from 
British  officers  who  were  living  in  Canada,  and 
who,  with  their  sons,  liked  to  return  to  the  old 


Ii8  So-utH-ward 

Spot  where  they  had  seen  some  of  their  most 
adventurous  da^gj  The  tavern  was  of  great 
interest  to  them,  also  the  knoll  called  Camp 
Hill,  near  the  building.  In  the  hollow  west  of 
the  hill  the  dense  woods  used  to  screen  many  a 
duel  during  the  time  that  the  British  were 
encamped  at  New  Dorp.  In  fact  the  whole 
region  teemed  with  their  exploits,  and  came  to 
be  a  sort  of  miniature  Monte  Carlo. 

Half  a  block  beyond  the  tavern  is  the  old 
Fountain  house.  The  lower  part  of  it  is  the 
same  stone  building  which  was  put  up  in  1668, 
and  at  the  farther  end  an  outcurving  of  bricks 
marks  the  old  Dutch  oven  where  many  a  sub- 
stantial loaf  used  to  be  baked.  The  building 
to-day  presents  the  appearance  of  a  modern 
suburban  cottage,  but  it  is  of  genuine  historical 
importance. 

It  is  the  remaining  dwelling  of  that  Walden- 
sian-Huguenot  settlement  which  dated  back 
to  the  very  early  days  of  the  island's  white 
settlement,  when  the  Waldensian  church  at 
Stony  Brook  was  the  first  organized  church 
there,  as  well  as  the  first  Waldensian  church  in 
North  America.  The  denomination  which  grew 
from  the  belief  of  Peter  Waldo  in  Lyons  in  the 
second  half  of  the  Twelfth  Century  had  been 
persecuted  in  Europe  and  had  been  driven  to 
wander  much  as  the  Huguenots  were,  and  one 
group  drifted  to  Staten  Island.     Here  at  Stony 


TKe  Fovxntain  House  119 

Brook,  near  this  old  house,  they  built  acquaint 
and  humble  little  church  which  the  Indians  often 
attempted  to  destroy.  Around  the  church  grew 
up  a  loyal  and  thrifty  congregation  who  made 
contented  homes.  The  Fountain  house  is  the 
best  remaining  relic  of  that  period  and  group. 

The  road  now  soon  arrives  at  Richmond.  It 
was  after  the  appointment  of  Governor  Thomas 
Dongan,  in  1683,  that  four  counties  were  estab- 
lished: New  York,  Kings,  Queens,  and  Richmond, 
the  latter  to  include  all  of  Staten  Island,  ''and 
Shutter's  Island,  and  the  islands  of  meadow 
on  the  west  side  thereof.*'  Stony  Brook  was 
the  county  seat,  but  this  was  later  transferred  to 
Richmond.  The  argument  for  this  change  was 
that  ''there  is  a  bell  by  ye  church  which  could  be 
rung  by  ye  high  sheriff,  and  thus  add  dignity  and 
respect  to  ye  court  of  his  Majesty  ye  King 
of  Great  Britain."  '  The  courthouse  was  built 
there,  and  in  it,  when  court  was  not  occupying 
its  rooms,  a  village  singing  school  was  held. 

The  original  courthouse  has  vanished,  but  the 
one  which  took  its  place  is  still  standing,  and  this 
in  itself  is  old.  It  is  a  large  building  at  the  head 
of  a  hilly  block,  and  behind  it  the  county  jail 
stands.  It  has  the  look  of  age,  and  dates  back 
to  the  eight een-thirties.  Opposite  it  is  the  old 
Surrogate's  office,  about  a  decade  later  in  date 
and  quaint  in  structure. 

Down  the  hill,   and  only  a  short  distance 


120  SoutHi^ard 

beyond,  is  historic  old  St.  Andrew's  church 
which,  in  1908,  celebrated  its  two-hundredth 
anniversary  and  placed  a  tablet  upon  its  wall  in 
commemoration  of  the  fact  that  it  has  held  its 
own  since  the  days  when  Queen  Anne  gave  it  the 
royal  charter  under  which  it  was  established. 
She  gave  hkewise  the  silver  communion  service 
which  is  treasured  in  the  Metropolitan  Museum 
of  Manhattan  to-day,  a  duplicate  of  it  being  kept 
at  the  church.  The  bell,  the  prayer-books,  and 
the  pulpit  cover  which  she  gave  have  vanished 
in  the  cotirse  of  time.  The  land  which  she  gave 
still  belongs  to  the  chtirch,  and  some  of  the  land 
given  in  bequest  by  Ellis  Duxbuiy,  in  Tompkins- 
ville,  for  the  maintenance  of  its  minister,  still 
assists  in  defraying  the  expenses  of  the  parish. 

A  tablet  on  the  wall  of  the  church  commemo- 
rates its  famous  Revolutionary  event.  It  was 
in  October,  1776,  that  General  Hugh  Mercer,  who 
was  in  command  of  certain  American  forces  in 
near-by  New  Jersey,  crossed  over  to  Staten 
Island  to  undertake  an  attack.  He  received  the 
information  that  three  companies  of  the  enemy 
were  stationed  at  Richmond;  he  therefore  aimed 
his  attack  in  that  direction;  a  group  of  riflemen 
under  Major  Clarke  were  to  advance  to  the  east 
end  of  the  village,  along  with  Colonel  Griffin  who 
was  detached  with  Colonel  Patterson's  battalion. 
On  the  other  sides,  so  the  plan  was  laid,  the 
rest  of  the  troops  would  attack  Richmond. 


Battle  at  tKe  CKxircH  12 1 

It  was  on  the  night  of  October  15th  that  these 
troops  from  Perth  Amboy  crossed,  and  by  day- 
break Richmond  was  reached.  Hearing  of  the 
Americans'  approach,  the  British  fled  and  the 
patriots  halted,  supposing  the  day  to  be  theirs. 
But  while  they  were  halting,  the  sound  of  a 
volley  of  musketry  astonished  them,  coming 
from  the  direction  of  St.  Andrew's  church; 
investigation  proved  that  some  of  the  enemy 
were  remaining,  using  this  spot  as  a  defense. 

Then  ensued  a  sharp  battle.  Major  Clarke 
and  his  riflemen  went  forward  to  the  attack,  and 
found  themselves  confronted  by  a  detachment 
of  Skinner's  men  who  were  in  front  of  the  build- 
ing. Firing  a  second  volley,  they  retired  within  its 
walls.  When  a  shot  from  a  church  window  laid 
low  one  of  Clarke's  men  directly  beside  him,  he 
withheld  no  longer,  and  began  the  attack  upon 
the  chiirch.  By  that  time  the  American  forces 
were  gathered,  and  Colonel  Griffin,  who  was  in 
command,  demanded  that  the  British  troops 
within  the  building  surrender.  They  refused, 
and  the  Americans  now  stormed  the  build- 
ing, shooting  until  every  windowpane  was 
shattered.  Next  the  Americans  began  to 
throw  rocks  in  at  the  windows,  to  save 
ammunition. 

Upon  this  a  soldier  came  to  the  door  and  stated 
that  the  troops  within  were  ready  to  surrender, 
offering  the  explanation  that  the  church  was 


122  SoutK-ward 

being  used  as  a  British  hospital,  and  the  sick  and 
suffering  lay  within.  The  attacking  party  had 
not  been  aware  of  this  fact,  and  Griffin  merci- 
fiolly  permitted  the  surgeon  to  remain  at  his 
post  with  the  sick  while  all  others  were  marched 
out  as  prisoners. 

Tlie  Americans  started  for  Old  Blazing  Star 
Landing  with  their  prisoners — ^their  victory 
looked  secure.  But  there  were  British  troops 
ready  to  follow,  and  the  upshot  of  the  affair  was 
that  the  prisoners  were  re-taken,  along  with 
those  articles  which  the  Americans  had  taken 
from  the  church — namely,  forty-five  muskets  and 
other  implements  of  war,  and  a  standard  of  the 
British  Light  Horse.  There  were  about  twenty 
prisoners,  all  of  whom  had  to  be  surrendered. 
It  was  with  difficulty  that  the  Americans  them- 
selves made  their  escape,  and  got  across  the 
ferry. 

During  the  Revolution,  while  the  British  were 
in  possession  of  the  island,  services  were  sus- 
pended in  all  its  churches  except  this.  It  has 
been  twice  burned  and  restored,  but  it  is  easy 
to  trace  in  the  wall  of  to-day  the  original 
stones. 

Among  the  headstones  in  the  old  churchyard 
are  many  of  great  age,  their  legends  dim  with  the 
wear  of  years.     One  reads: 

''Here  lies  the  body  of  Sarah.  She  was  a  good 
neighbor,  a  tender  mother  to  ten  children,  and 


St.  Andrew's  Church. 

Photograph  by  F.   M.   Simonson. 


Cockloft  Hall  of  ^'Salmagundi  Papers.'' 


A  Bridge  in  the  Japanese  Garden  of  C.  T.  Brown,  Emerson  Hill,  Staien  Island. 


The  Old  Fomttain  House  at  New  Dorp,  a  Relic  of  the  Waldensian  Settlement. 
The  Stone  Lower  Part  Is  the  Original  Building.     House  Dates  back  to  1668. 


Feminine  Virtues  123 

an  obedient  wife/'  thus  summing  up  all  the 
feminine  virtues.    And  another: 

Free  from  the  busy  cares  of  life, 
Here  lies  a  prudent  virtuous  wife, 

Who  never  caused  a  husband's  sigh. 
But  once,  alas,  that  she  must  die. 


CHAPTER  IX 

FROM  TOTTENVILLE  TO  PERTH  AMBOY 

MORE  than  two  hundred  years  ago  Captain 
Christopher  Billopp  piled  up  the  deck  of 
his  vessel  with  empty  barrels  and  set  sail  to 
encircle  Staten  Island.  Thereby  hangs  a  much 
longer  tale  than  the  worthy  Captain  Billopp  ever 
dreamed  he  was  writing  in  the  annals  of  New 
York  State  history. 

Because  it  took  him  only  a  little  over  twenty- 
three  hours  to  accomplish  his  trip,  Staten  Island 
was  made  a  part  of  New  York  State,  instead  of 
New  Jersey,  and  all  because  those  empty  barrels 
on  Captain  Billopp's  deck  gave  him  such  excel- 
lent gain  in  sailing  power. 

The  associations  with  the  Billopp  story  lie  in 
Tottenville,  at  the  remote  end  of  the  island. 
This  village  perpetuates  the  honored  name  of 
Totten,  long  familiar  in  the  island's  history.  Al- 
though in  another  State  than  Perth  Amboy,  the 
two  have  been  inseparably  linked  by  their  posi- 
tion, so  that  old  inhabitants  of  either  refer  to 
* '  the  other  side  "  as  if  they  were  one  town.   From 

124 


Ferry  from  Amboy  125 

a  paper  of  1737  this  annotincement  was  reprinted 
in  Valentine's  Manual: 

"These  are  to  inform  all  persons  that  there  is  a 
ferry  settled  from  Amboy  over  to  Staten  Island, 
which  is  duly  attended  for  the  conveniency 
of  those  that  have  occasion  to  pass  and  repass 
that  way.  The  ferriage  is  fourteen  pence, 
Jersey  currency,  for  man  and  horse,  and  five 
pence  for  a  single  passenger. '' 

The  railroad  which  whirls  the  traveler  across 
the  island  to  Tottenville  carries  him  over  a  most 
surprising  district  when  he  considers  the  fact 
that  he  is  within  the  limits  of  Greater  New  York. 
It  is  only  a  short  time  since  the  census  estimate 
showed  fewer  than  three  inhabitants  to  the  acre 
on  this  island,  and  the  ride  across  many  open 
miles  in  this  direction  makes  the  figures  believ- 
able, in  spite  of  the  crowded  Staten  Island  near 
the  ferry,  with  whith  we  are  more  familiar. 
At  times  the  up-hill  and  down-dale  country 
appears  almost  a  wilderness,  stretching  away 
toward  the  water;  a  wilderness  fertile  and 
ready,  waiting  to  be  reclaimed. 

The  Billopp  house,  which  is  the  pilgrim's  goal, 
stands  at  some  distance  from  the  Tottenville 
station,  and  a  walk  of  about  a  mile  awaits  one 
who  does  not  travel  in  carriage  or  automobile. 
In  general,  the  directions  are:  to  turn  to  the  left 
from  the  railroad  track;  follow  the  street  up  from 
the  ferry  to  Elliott  Avenue;  now  turn  toward 


126  SoutH-ward 

the  right,  and  let  Elliott  Avenue  lead  you  into  a 
sandy  road  which  cuts  across  a  decidedly  waste 
place.  Kelley  gives  directions,  '*  Follow  Broad- 
way, Main  Street  and  Amboy  Road  to  the  Lane 
and  Bentley  Avenue,"  but  the  traveler  will 
find  the  Billopp  house  more  readily  if  he  asks 
the  way  than  by  means  of  any  printed  rules. 

It  stands  a  little  way  beyond  a  group  of  farm- 
houses, and  is  surrounded  by  very  large  trees, 
generations  old,  with  the  sort  of  gigantic  trunks 
that  one  seldom  sees  in  this  part  of  the  world, 
where  forest  fires  and  reckless  axes  have  wrought 
havoc.  Here,  under  the  shade  of  these  trees, 
stands  the  famous  old  ''Manor  of  Bentley,''  as 
the  house  was  called  in  the  days  of  its  golden 
prime;  now  a  battered,  uncared-for  relic,  in- 
habited but  neglected,  forgotten  except  by  the 
history  lover. 

With  one  exception,  its  feattires  wear  exactly 
the  same  appearance  as  in  the  past.  The  one 
change  consists  in  the  removal  of  the  porch 
which  used  to  run  across  the  front  of  the 
building,  with  colonial  pillars  and  a  slant  roof. 
This  porch  rotted  until  it  had  to  be  torn  down; 
but  the  splendid  stone-work  of  early  days,  when 
building  was  done  for  the  future,  is  in  excellent 
condition  even  now. 

The  Billopp  house  is  of  such  interest  in  New 
York's  history,  that  its  decay  is  a  melancholy 
sight.     Built   in   1668,   it   was   from  the  first 


Discord  on  Staten  Island  127 

connected  with  some  of  the  most  interesting 
passages  in  the  island's  records. 

After  Staten  Island  had  been  discovered  by 
Hendrick  Hudson,  there  followed  years  of  Dutch 
colonial  government  in  it,  during  which  this 
fine  tidbit  of  land,  in  what  came  to  be  Totten- 
ville,  belonged  to  Nova  Caesarea,  the  name  of 
that  period  for  New  Jersey. 

Now  James,  the  Duke  of  York  and  brother  to 
Charles  the  Second,  was  given  a  sort  of  ruler- 
ship  over  all  the  king's  possessions  in  America. 
Provinces  which  had  been  under  Dutch  control 
passed  into  English  hands.  Staten  Island  be- 
came a  scene  of  discord;  to  the  English  and 
Dutch  dissensions  the  French  added  their 
quarrels,  and  matters  began  to  look  somewhat 
like  a  Kilkenny-cat  controversy. 

To  settle  matters,  the  Duke  finally  came  to  a 
decidedly  original  decision.  He  ordained  that 
if  the  islands  in  the  harbor  of  New  York  could 
be  circumnavigated  in  twenty-foiu*  hours  they 
shotdd  belong  to  the  colony  of  New  York;  other- 
wise, Nova  Caesarea,  or  New  Jersey,  was  to 
possess  them.  The  next  thing  was  to  find  the 
right  man  to  attend  to  the  circumnavigation. 

It  happened  at  the  fortunate  time  that  Captain 
Christopher  Billopp  was  stopping  at  Perth 
Amboy.  His  vessel,  called  The  Bentley,  was 
a  small  one,  probably  belonging  to  the  British 
navy,  although  there  seems  to  be  a  question 


128  SoutH^ward 

as  to  whether  it  was  of  the  merchant  service 
or  not. 

Billopp  was  chosen  to  perform  the  Dtike's 
task.  He  was  accounted  an  excellent  seaman; 
but  the  feat  did  not  promise  to  be  easy,  even  so. 
He  did  not  start  out  until  he  had  thought  over 
the  matter  carefully,  to  determine  how  he  would 
be  best  able  to  accomplish  it. 

And  thus  he  hit  upon  the  idea  of  the  empty 
barrels.  If  he  were  to  cover  his  deck  with  them, 
he  argued,  he  would  gain  much  sailing  power. 
Thus  laden  he  set  out,  and  we  can  picture  the 
excitement  which  held  New  Yorkers  and  New 
Jerseyites  in  throbbing  suspense. 

Captain  Billopp  performed  his  feat.  Nay,  he 
more  than  performed  it;  a  trifle  over  twenty- 
three  hours  sufficed  for  his  sail,  and  Staten 
Island  was  New  York's. 

The  Duke  had  a  reward  ready.  So  much 
pleased  was  he  with  Billopp's  success,  that, 
instead  of  letting  him  return  to  England  to  make 
his  home,  he  presented  the  Captain  with  1163 
acres  of  land  on  Staten  Island  and  invited  him  to 
remain  there. 

This  land  was  at  that  corner  of  the"  island 
where  you  are  now.  So  fine  a  plum  had  fallen 
into  the  worthy  seaman's  hands  that  he  deter- 
mined to  make  the  most  of  it,  and  he  set  himself 
at  once  to  building  a  suitable  residence.  He 
named  it,  for  the  vessel  which  had  won  him  his 


THe  Billopp  Family  129 

laurels,  the  Manor  of  Bentley.  The  stones  of 
which  it  was  built  were  found  in  the  vicinity,  and 
were  suitable  for  the  best  of  walls;  but  Billopp 
sent  to  Belgium  for  the  bricks  needed,  and  to 
England  for  the  cement. 

The  next  thing  for  a  wise  sea-captain  to  do, 
having  settled  down  in  a  home  on  dry  land,  was 
to  take  unto  himself  a  wife — ^which  he  did.  The 
daughter  of  Thomas  Farmar,  a  judge  who  lived  in 
Richmond  County,  looked  comely  to  him,  and 
her  he  chose. 

Thus  was  established  the  Billopp  household, 
destined  to  play  an  important  part  in  local  his- 
tory. The  Captain  himself  disappeared  in  the 
early  seventeen-hundreds,  before  the  Revolution 
came  on;  it  is  believed  that  his  vessel.  The  Bent- 
ley  J  went  down  with  him  while  he  was  making  a 
voyage  to  England  to  visit  his  old  home.  He 
left  a  widow  and  one  charming  daughter.  Miss 
Eugenia  Billopp,  who  had  received  a  fashionable 
education  at  the  Perth  Amboy  Academy  across 
the  Kill.  Miss  Eugenia  conceived  an  affection 
for  her  cousin,  another  Thomas  Farmar,  and  the 
mother  gave  permission  for  the  marriage  to  take 
place  on  the  proviso  that  the  happy  groom  should 
adopt  the  name  of  Billopp  and  make  his  home  in 
the  Manor  of  Bentley. 

So  the  family  name  was  perpetuated.  The  old 
Captain's  grandson,  likewise  named  Christopher, 
lived  to  be  a  loyalist  and  to  be  carried  off  by  a 


I30  SoxitK^ward 

group  of  American  rangers  who  held  him  for 
ransom  and  kept  him  captive  until  an  American 
prisoner  was  given  in  exchange.  Once  more 
he  was  taken  captive,  but  at  Howe's  request 
General  Washington  set  him  free.  He  left 
this  part  of  the  country  after  the  war,  and 
took  up  his  residence  in  the  more  sympathetic 
atmosphere  of  Nova  Scotia. 

A  family  burial  ground  was  early  established 
near  the  old  house  in  Tottenville,  and  until 
recently  some  of  the  headstones  were  to  be 
seen  in  their  places.  Members  of  the  Billopp 
family,  and  their  Indian  friends,  were  laid  near 
the  house.  At  last  only  two  headstones  re- 
mained, and  these  were  being  so  much  damaged 
by  the  ubiquitous  souvenir  fiend,  who  chipped 
off  bits  to  carry  away,  that  they  were  removed 
to  the  cellar  of  the  house. 

The  inscription  on  one  of  them  reads  (some 
letters  being  obliterated)  : 

*'.  .  .  Lyes  ye  Body  of  Thomas  Billopp  Esq, 
son  of  Thomas  Farmar  Esq.  Dec^  August  ye  2^ 
1750  In  ye  39*^  year  of  his  age." 

And  the  other: 

''Here  lyes  y®  Body  of  Evjenea  y^  Wife  of 
Thomas  Baiopp.  Aged  23  years  .  •  .  March.  ..." 

The  old  cellar  has  its  own  tradition.  That 
black,  cavernous  doorway,  which  looks  like  a 
gulping  mouth  awaiting  the  imwary,  points 
the  way  to  the  dungeon  beyond.    A  veritable 


'  The  Old  Stone  House  in  Willock's  Lane/'  Used  by  the  British 
during  the  Revolution.     Built    1/34.     {Perth   Amhoy.) 


Billopp  House,  Tottenville.     Built  1668.     Where  Howe,  Clinton,  Cornwallis,  and 
Burgoyne  were  Entertained. 


' Dungeon ' '  Approach,  Billopp  House,  Tottenville,  Through  this 
Cellar  Door  Lies  the  Entrance  to  the  Famous  Dungeon  where 
Patriots  are  Supposed  to  have  been  Imprisoned,  and  from 
which  a  Subway  may  have  Led  to  the  River. 


The  "Parker  Castle'^  in  Perth  Amboy. 


Mysterious  Dxin^eon  131 

dungeon  it  is,  probably  as  mysteriously  legend- 
like as  any  cellar  of  an  American  citizen  ever  con- 
tained. You  will  grope  your  way  from  the  dim 
light  which  surrounds  the  entrance,  on  into  the 
growing  dusk,  until  you  reach  a  far  corner  where 
total  blackness  reigns.  Stooping,  striving  to 
follow  your  guide,  feeling  your  way,  you  enter 
at  last  a  room  like  a  cave,  solidly  walled  and 
ominous. 

Here,  during  that  period  of  the  Revolution 
when  the  house  was  held  as  a  British  outpost,  it 
is  said  that  this  dungeon  was  put  to  stern  uses. 
Our  own  American  patriots  are  supposed  to  have 
been  held  captive  there.  Many  a  hardship  did 
they  suffer  in  this  black  cell.  It  is  believed 
that  an  underground  passage  was  made  at  that 
time,  leading  down  to  the  river,  a  distance  of 
two  hundred  yards;  but  to-day  this  cannot 
be  traced.  There  is  said  to  be  a  fairly  good 
foundation  for  the  theory. 

But  these  gloomy  tales  of  the  dungeon,  the 
suffering  prisoners,  and  the  underground  passage, 
are  only  one  side  of  the  old  house's  history. 
Perhaps  they  are  the  more  romantic  side;  when 
Cooper  wrote  The  Water  Witch  he  laid  one  of  its 
scenes  in  this  mysterious  cellar.  But  gay  and 
sparkling  scenes  took  place  above-stairs.  Many 
a  banquet  did  the  old  manor  see;  many  a  daintily 
brocaded  lady,  many  a  gallant  ruffled  and  pow- 
dered gentleman  tripped  to  light  measure  at  the 


132  SoutK^ward 

Billopp  balls.  Colonel  Billopp  became  famous 
for  his  magnificent  entertainments.  Such  offi- 
cers as  Howe,  Cornwallis,  Clinton,  Burgoyne, 
Knyphausen,  and  Andre  were  among  his  guests. 

It  was  after  the  Battle  of  Long  Island  in 
1776  that  Howe  went  to  the  Billopp  house  to 
meet^  Benjamin  Franklin,  John  Adams,  and 
Edward  Rutledge,  who  were  chosen  to  confer 
upon  the  issues  of  the  war.  They  hoped  for 
peace,  but  when  they  found  that  Howe's  offer 
was  merely  to  resume  old  conditions,  as  before 
the  war,  the  conference  came  to  an  end  without 
results. 

The  village  of  Tottenville  was  once  known  as 
the  Manor  of  Bentley,  and  the  peninsula  at  its 
farthest  point,  later  called  Ward's  Point,  was 
originally  Billopp's  Point.  Later  on  the  village 
became  simply  ''Bentley."  Then  along  came 
the  Totten  family,  and  the  town  became  divided 
against  itself,  for  the  lower  section,  hailing  a  new 
hero,  desired  that  it  be  called  after  Totten. 
With  the  upper  section  battling  for  ''Bentley," 
the  lower  for  "Tottenville,"  the  friction  was 
bitter,  until  the  victory  of  the  lower  half  settled 
the  question.  The  name  of  Totten  stands  in 
the  records  of  old  St.  Andrew's  Church,  known 
for  its  "respectability  and  influence." 

Looking  over  to  the  Jersey  shore,  your  eye  is 
crossing  the  Arthur  Kill,  which  name  is  a  cor- 
ruption of  the  old  Dutch  "Achter  Cull,"  and 


The  Kills  133 

was  the  same  as  Staten  Island  Sound.  *  Davis 
calls  attention  to  a  similar  corruption  in  the  name 
Kill  van  Kull,  as  we  now  abbreviate  and  spell 
it;  this  was  once  upon  a  time  "Het  Kill  van  het 
Cull, "  or  ''the  stream  of  the  bay. " 

Across  the  kills  early  ferries  used  to  ply; 
crossings  were  adopted  by  the  Indians,  and  later 
the  white  settlers  followed  in  their  paths. 
Several  ferries  were  operated  early  at  Port 
Richmond  which  lies  across  the  Kill  van  Kull 
from  Bayonne;  Decker's  Ferry  is  named  as  far 
back  as  1777,  and  others  followed  it.  From 
Staten  Island  to  Elizabethtown  Point  a  ferry 
was  operated  by  Adoniah  Schuyler  in  1762. 
Crossing  to-day  from  Tottenville  to  Perth 
Amboy  you  are  traveling  in  practically  the 
same  line  as  the  early  ferry  between  these  points. 

With  the  modern  industrial  skyline  of  the 
Jersey  shore  ahead  of  you,  and  the  crowding 
craft  hovering  all  about  you  on  the  water,  it  is 
hard  to  realize  that  at  one  time  these  ferries  were 
closed  because  there  was  no  travel  between  the 
two  shores,  on  account  of  animosity.  So  strong 
a  tie  now  binds  them  that  we  can  hardly  think 
of  Staten  Island  as  a  lone  continent,  unvisited 
by  her  neighbors.  The  Dutch  did  not  release 
their  hold  willingly,  and  there  were  many  strug- 
gles over  the  proprietorship,  which  brought 
about  hard  feeling  that  it  took  considerable 
time  to  heal. 


134  SoutKuvard 

Long  ago  Perth  Amboy  was  reckoned  a  rival 
of  New  York,  being  a  thriving  and  fashionable 
young  city.  It  fell  behind  in  the  race,  but 
remained  to  this  day  a  town  of  much  charm. 

A  number  of  old  buildings  stand,  records 
of  the  days  when  it  was  a  better-known  cen- 
ter. Until  recently  it  has  been  possible  to 
see  the  old  barracks  used  in  the  Revolution,  but 
these  have  finally  been  torn  down.  The  ''Gov- 
ernor's Mansion'*  stands,  in  excellent  condition, 
and  lends  dignity  to  the  entire  street  upon  which 
it  is  conspicuous.  It  is  now  used  as  a  hotel,  hav- 
ing changed  hands  several  times  since  it  was  built 
in  1784,  and  being  at  present  owned  by  John  S. 
Hanson.     It  is  at  No.  149  Kearney  Street. 

The  Board  of  Lords  Proprietors  of  East  Jersey 
erected  it  as  a  home  for  the  colonial  governor. 
The  solid  material  of  which  it  is  built  was  brought 
over  from  England.  Governor  William  Frank- 
lin occupied  the  house,  and  it  was  used  as  a  head- 
quarters for  army  officers  during  the  Revolution. 
Previous  to  this  it  had  been  occupied  by  Governor 
Hamilton  and  other  royal  governors. 

After  the  Revolution  the  place  became  a  gay 
inn,  and  was  known  for  its  fashion  and  merry- 
makings. This  famous  hotel  was  called  ''The 
Brighton.  '*  Later  on  it  changed  its  ways  once 
more,  and  became  a  home  for  Presbyterian 
ministers,  which  it  remained  for  a  score  of  years. 

Since  it  entered  upon  the  career  of  a  modern 


"ParKer  Castle  *•  135 

hostelry  many  improvements  have  been  made, 
but  not  in  a  way  to  alter  the  general  aspect 
of  the  old  building.  There  is  now  a  sun  parlor 
on  the  roof,  with  a  view  stretching  away  to 
Sandy  Hook,  and  a  modern  garden  in  the  rear, 
but  these  additions  do  not  destroy  the  ancestral 
appearance  of  the  mansion. 

Going  back  in  the  direction  of  the  ferry  and 
turning  up  Water  Street,  you  will  come  upon 
a  somewhat  dilapidated  structure  known  as 
''Parker  Castle."  Several  generations  of  the 
family  have  dwelt  there  since  the  days  when 
James  Parker  built  it.  In  the  time  of  the 
Revolution  it  was  known  as  one  of  the  finest 
dwellings  in  this  part  of  the  country. 

Parker  himself  took  no  part  in  the  war,  so  his 
property  was  not  confiscated;  but  he  had  con- 
nections on  the  royal  side,  therefore  it  was  con- 
sidered necessary  to  place  him  under  restraint, 
and  in  1777  he  was  kept  in  confinement  in  Morris- 
town.  The  family  long  dwelt  there,  and  its 
members  have  represented  the  law,  the  army, 
and  the  state.  Other  persons  live  there  now, 
but  many  relics  of  the  old  days  are  preserved, 
among  them,   the  kitchen's   corner  cupboard. 

''The  Old  Stone  House  in  Willock's  Lane"  is 
the  familiar  appellation  applied  to  a  quaint  little 
structure  standing  to  the  south  of  Fayette 
Street.  It  is  said  that  the  house  was  built  in 
1734,  ^^d  had  the  eventful  experience  of  being 


136  SovjitH"warcl 

occupied  by  British  soldiers  dtiring  the  Revolu- 
tionary War.  For  many  years  it  was  the  home  of 
the  Marsh  family,  well-known  in  Perth  Amboy 
annals,  and  was  afterwards  sold  to  William  B. 
Watson.  It  is  now  the  property  of  William  W. 
Pierce. 


WESTWARD    INTO    NEW 
JERSEY 


137 


,  CHAPTER  X 

NEWARK,   A   TURNPIKE  CENTER 

NEWARK  of  a  century  ago  was  to  its  section 
of  New  Jersey  much  the  same  as  any  rail- 
way center  is  to-day.  This  was  the  era  of  the 
turnpike,  and  it  was  the  main  organ  from  which 
many  arteries  ran  out  in  various  directions  into 
the  State. 

In  its  earliest  days  it  had  lived  its  own  life, 
paying  little  attention  to  other  communities. 
The  first  definite  move  toward  outreaching  was 
made  in  1765,  when,  by  act  of  the  Assembly, 
the  Plank  Road  was  provided  for.  This  road 
had  always  been  Newark's  outlet  toward  the 
lower  part  of  the  river,  but  now  it  became  part 
of  a  system  of  communication  with  Powles 
Hook.  The  plank  construction  was  an  innova- 
tion and  excited  much  comment.  The  French- 
man, Brissot  de  Warville,  is  quoted  as  saying: 
''QBuilt  wholly  of  wood,  with  much  labor  and 
perseverance,  in  the  midst  of  water,  on  a  soil 
that  trembles  under  your  feet,  it  proves  to  what 

139 


140  Westward 

point  may  be  carried  the  patience  of  man,  who  is 
determined  to  conquer  nature^'' 

Urqiihart  traces  the  progress  of  travel,  which 
now  received  a  new  impetus.  Later  in  the 
same  year  a  law  was  passed  providing  for 
the  appointment  of  road  commissioners  to  run 
out  straight  public  roads,  between  New  York 
and  Philadelphia.  In  1756,  the  first  New  York- 
Philadelphia  stage  had  been  put  through,  by 
way  of  Perth  Amboy  and  Trenton,  and  now 
that  the  straightening  of  the  road  was  under- 
taken, a  second  stage  was  established,  to  follow 
the  new  route.  But  popular  travel  still  in- 
clined to  Elizabeth  and  its  ferry  instead  of 
Newark,  until  after  the  Revolution.  The  first 
road  travel  was  primitive  and  subject  to  some 
hardships,  thus  described  by  a  graphic  pen  of 
that  day: 

'yml  the  way  to  Newark  (9  miles)  is  a  very  flat, 
marshy  country,  intersected  with  rivers;  many 
cedar  swamps,  abounding  with  mosquitoes,  which 
bit  our  legs,  and  hands,  exceedingly;  where 
they  fix  they  will  continue  sucking  our  blood 
if  not  disturbed,  till  they  swell  four  times  their 
ordinary  size,  when  they  absolutely  fall  off 
and  burst  from  their  fulness.  At  two  miles  we 
cross  a  large  cedar  swamp;  at  three  miles  we 
intersect  the  road  leading  to  Bergen,  a  Dutch 
town,  half  a  mile  on  our  right;  at  five  miles  we 
cross  Hackensack   (a   little   below  the  site  of 


-An  Advent\iro\J8  Journey  to  NeiJvarK     141 

the  present  bridge  at  what  was  known  as  Dow's 
Ferry) ;  at  six  we  cross  Passaic  River  (coachee  and 
all)  in  a  scoul,  by  means  of  piilling  a  rope  fastened 
on  the  opposite  side. '' 

But  the  difficulties  of  this  primitive  travel 
were  forgotten  when  the  ttirnpike  era  brought 
prosperity  and  lively  communication.  The 
position  of  Newark  made  it  a  natural  gateway 
to  inner  New  Jersey,  and  one  enterprise  led  to 
another,  until  it  became  a  turnpike  center.  The 
Newark  and  Hackensack  bridges  were  built,  and 
a  turnpike  laid  between  them.  Business  was 
stimulated,  and  companies  of  individuals  began 
to  build  similar  roads,  making  a  profit  from  the 
tolls.  The  Newark  to  Pompton  Turnpike 
Company  was  incorporated  in  1806,  and  it 
followed  the  line,  with  few  changes,  of  the  old 
Horseneck  Road  which  had  been  laid  down  before 
the  Revolution.  Also  in  1806,  the  Mt.  Pleasant 
Turnpike  Company  sprang  into  being  and 
stretched  its  work  all  the  way  to  Morristown, 
following  the  old  Crane  Road,  and  earlier  trails, 
by  way  of  Whippany.  And  still  another — ^the 
Springfield  and  Newark  Company — organized 
to  build  a  turnpike  in  this  eventful  year.  The 
Newark  and  Morristown  Turnpike  opened  in 
181 1,  and  others  followed,  until  this  section  of 
New  Jersey  was  a  network  of  toUgate  roads, 
veining  out  in  every  direction  from  the  thriving 
center. 


142  "West-ward 

Newark  is  an  old  city  of  colorful  history. 
When  a  place  comes  to  be  associated  with  the 
smokestacks  and  dinner  pails  of  commerce,  it 
takes  an  agile  imagination  to  leap  back  to  the 
times  of  tomahawks  and  redcoats,  to  visualize 
a  horde  of  swashbuckling  figures  descending 
upon  a  farmhouse  where  factories  now  stand — 
''What  ho,  my  good  woman,  a  draught  from 
yonder  dairy,  and  right  quickly!" — or  to  hear 
the  beating  of  drums  in  streets  where  trolley 
bells  now  clang,  summoning  the  townsmen  to 
discuss  the  latest  Indian  peril.  To  call  up 
these  times  in  modern  Newark,  one  must  be- 
come deaf  to  a  roar  of  railroads,  trolleys,  and 
automobiles,  blind  to  crowded  blocks  of  depart- 
ment-store show  windows.  Armies  of  human 
beings,  factory  workers,  toilers  in  a  great  indus- 
trial system,  have  thronged  in  to  take  the  place 
of  a  handful  of  Connecticut  settlers  who  found 
the  Passaic  shore  a  likely  land  some  two  and  a 
half  centuries  ago.  Our  trip  thither  to-day,  shot 
through  a  sub-river  tube,  discharged  lightly 
a  few  minutes  later,  fairly  reproaches  us  with 
its  ease  and  cheapness,  when  we  consider  the 
fact  that  these  people  struggled  from  Con- 
necticut to  New  Jersey  through  such  difficulties 
as  might  pertain  to  a  long  ocean  voyage,  and 
finally  landed  as  worn  and  weary  as  escaped 
Huguenots  or  Pilgrim  fathers  upon  long-looked- 
for  shores. 


Voyage  of  Nei?varK  Settlers  143 

Broad  and  Market  streets  meet  at  the  center 
of  Newark  to-day  as  yesterday.  Standing 
there,  you  can  recall  the  fact  that  the  intersec- 
tion of  these  streets  was  the  **Four  Corners''  of 
the  original  town,  and  was  called  so  from  the 
beginning.  Here  the  settlers  gathered  when- 
ever any  matter  of  importance  called  them  forth. 
Here  the  dnim  beating  to  summon  them  took 
place.  And  near  here  stands  still  the  old 
Presbyterian  Church  which  was  the  very  pulse 
of  the  original  settlement. 

It  was  in  1666  that  the  group  from  Connecti- 
cut arrived.  The  settlement  was  made  much 
as  colonies  in  our  Western  States  are  created 
nowadays;  that  is  to  say,  inducements  were 
offered  to  come  in  and  take  up  land.  Nowa- 
days railroads  make  special  rates.  At  that  time 
the  colonists  had  to  provide  their  own  boat. 
But  the  fundamental  principle  was  quite  the 
same,  and  it  interested  Connecticut  people,  who 
always  showed  a  tendency  to  pioneering.  New 
Jersey  was  as  much  a  pioneer  country  then 
as  the  Kansas  plains  were  in  the  days  of 
Fremont. 

It  was  Governor  Carteret  who  offered  the 
inducements,  and  the  dwellers  of  Milford,  Con- 
necticut, listened  with  attention.  Robert  Treat 
was  sent  to  look  the  offer  over,  for  a  shrewd 
Yankee  spirit  was  abroad  in  New  England  even 
then.    Treat  reported  on  the  land  with  enthusi- 


144  "West^ward 

asm,  and  to  his  iirging  is  credited  the  founding 
of  Newark. 

At  this  time,  about  1665,  all  the  region  was  a 
wilderness.  The  only  roads  through  it  were  the 
trails  of  Indians  and  of  wild  animals.  But  the 
situation  appeared  to  Treat  to  be  excellent,  here 
on  the  banks  of  the  Passaic,  and  thirty  families 
prepared  to  transport  themselves  in  a  ship 
commanded  by  Captain  Samuel  Swaine.  It  is 
reported  that  when  the  landing  was  about  to  be 
made,  great  rivalry  arose  among  the  passengers 
as  to  who  shotild  first  set  foot  upon  the  new 
land,  and  at  last  it  was  voted  that  the  Cap- 
tain's fair  daughter,  Elizabeth,  be  given  the 
privilege.  Her  lover,  Josiah  Ward,  waded  out 
knee-deep  into  the  water  to  assist  her  to  reach 
the  land. 

According  to  the  custom  of  loyal  Connecticut 
Presbyterians,  the  first  thing  done  in  the  build- 
ing of  the  new  colony  was  to  establish  a  church. 
The  Rev.  Abraham  Pierson  was  the  first  pastor; 
fourteen  others  in  succession  have  followed  him. 
The  church  now  standing  is  the  third  built 
upon  this  site,  the  first  having  been  a  little 
wooden  temple,  the  next  a  simple  stone  structure 
erected  in  171 5,  and  the  one  now  standing  dating 
from  1 79 1.  The  Rev.  Aaron  Burr,  father  of  the 
statesman,  was  one  of  the  famous  men  who  held 
the  pulpit  in  early  days,  and  his  portrait  now 
hangs  within  the  parish  house. 


pq 


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O 


^ 


pq 


^ 

s 


The  Schoolhoiise  at  the  Old  Lyons  Farms,  where  Washington  Spoke  to  the  Children. 


The  Lyons  Farmhouse,  Said  to  he  the  Oldest  House  in  New  Jersey. 


THe  Captain's  Daxi^Hter  145 

This  Aaron  Btirr  later  became  a  founder  of 
Princeton  College.  Dr.  James  Richards,  an- 
other of  the  distingiiished  line  of  pastors,  gave 
up  his  church  duties  to  become  president  of  Au- 
burn Theological  Seminary.  Dr.  Edward  Dorr 
Griffin  became  president  of  Williams.  Abraham 
Pierson  was  identified  with  Yale.  Portraits, 
and  a  tablet,  are  among  the  memorials  to  early 
days,  and  behind  the  church  lies  the  old  burying- 
ground  with  many  a  familiar  and  honored  name 
engraved  upon  the  stones. 

They  were  stirring  times  when  the  residents 
of  Newark — New  Work  was  the  first  form  of  the 
name — ^gathered  under  the  roof  of  this  church, 
summoned  by  the  roll  of  the  town  dnmis,  to 
learn  that  there  were  signs  of  a  new  Indian 
outbreak  in  the  air,  and  to  discuss  means  of 
protection.  It  had  been  supposed  that  the 
Indians  were  settled  into  peace  when  the  town 
was  established,  but  this  idea  was  soon  dis- 
proved. The  price  paid  them  for  the  town  was 
liberal  for  that  day,  and  might  have  been  suffi- 
cient to  satisfy  them,  as  prices  went  then; 
it  was: 

''Fifty  double  hands  of  powder,  100  bars  of 
lead,  twenty  axes,  twenty  coats,  ten  guns, 
twenty  pistols,  ten  kettles,  ten  swords,  four 
blankets,  four  barrels  of  beer,  ten  pairs  of 
breeches,  fifty  knives,  twenty  hoes,  eight  hun- 
dred and  fifty  fathoms  of  wampum,  two  ankers 

xo 


146  Westward 

of  liquors,  and  three  troopers'  coats."  It  has 
been  pointed  out  by  Mr.  Urquhart,  however, 
that  in  1904  one  lot  near  the  church,  a  lot  of 
just  100X38  feet,  was  sold  for  four  hundred 
thousand  dollars. 

Under  the  roof  of  this  ancient  and  historical 
church,  some  of  the  most  modern  forms  of 
institutional  work  are  going  forward  to-day. 
In  the  rear  of  the  building  is  a  girls'  lunch  room, 
where  for  a  few  cents  the  working  girl  of  Newark 
is  provided  with  a  wholesome  lunch,  and  she 
may  rest  in  a  comfortable  lounging  room. 
Boys'  clubs  and  a  gymnasium  play  their  part  in 
the  Twentieth  Century  scheme  of  things. 

On  Broad  Street  stands  picturesque  old 
Trinity,  younger  in  the  city's  annals  than 
the  ''Old  First,"  but  historic  for  all  that.  Its 
spire  is  the  original  structure,  although  it  caps  a 
building  much  more  recent  than  itself. 

By  turning  into  West  Park  Street,  a  few  doors 
west  of  Broad  you  will  come  upon  the  building  in 
which  the  New  Jersey  Historical  Society  has  its 
headquarters.  A  large  and  valuable  collection  is 
displayed  here.  One  of  the  documents  on  which 
the  Society  prides  itself  is  the  nine-foot  parch- 
ment roll,  signed  when  the  Duke  of  York  cut 
his  possessions  in  half  and  gave  to  Lord  John 
Berkeley  and  Sir  George  CaAeret  all  the  land 
which  is  now  the  State  of  New  Jersey,  this 
parchment  roll  being  the  agreement  in  formal 


Ancient  FarcKxnent  Roll  147 

shape.  The  Dtike  had  received  from  his  brother, 
King  Charles,  the  royal  charter  for  lands  now 
including  New  York  and  New  Jersey,  and  he 
handed  over  the  latter  to  these  gentlemen.  The 
agreement  was  entitled,  ''The  Concessions  and 
Agreements  of  the  Lords  Proprietors  of  Nova 
Caesarea  or  New  Jersey,  to  and  with  all  and  every 
of  the  adventurers  and  all  such  as  shall  settle 
and  plant  there.'' 

The  Society  has  a  remarkably  full  collection  of 
photographs  of  historic  houses  in  New  Jersey — 
an  example  which  every  State  would  do  well  to 
follow,  as  each  year  sees  one  or  more  slipping 
from  the  muster  roll,  either  through  final  decay, 
or  to  make  way  for  the  erection  of  new  buildings. 

Returning  to  Broad  Street  and  following  it 
north,  you  come  to  the  House  of  Prayer,  an 
Episcopal  church  beside  which  its  rectory  stands. 
The  latter,  at  the  corner  of  State  Street,  was 
known  in  other  days  as  the  old  Plume  home- 
stead. It  was  built  before  the  Revolution, 
and  at  that  time  it  was  beyond  the  town  limits, 
although  the  railroad  now  booms  in  its  ears  and 
business  pushes  close  upon  it. 

It  is  said  that  Aunt  Nancy  Visher  Plume,  as 
she  was  known  to  her  friends,  built  the  house, 
probably  in  17 10.  Col.  John  I.  Plume,  known 
to  the  War  of  1 8 1 2 ,  was  bom  here.  Being  on  the 
edge  of  town,  it  was  a  great  stopping-place  for 
soldiers  when  the  Revolution  came  on,  and  the 


148  Westward 

story  is  told  that  in  1777  some  Hessians,  traiKng 
over  this  part  of  the  country  to  see  what  dis- 
turbance they  could  cause,  came  across  the 
hospitable  farmhouse,  entered,  and  took  posses- 
sion of  its  comforts.  There  was  provender  in  the 
barn  ^  and  milk  in  the  dairy.  The  troopers 
flung  their  possessions  about  and  made  them- 
selves entirely  at  home,  demanding  cream,  wood, 
everything  they  fancied. 

At  last  Mistress  Plume  became  so  indignant 
that  her  fear  fled.  Drawing  herself  up  to  all 
the  feminine  height  she  could  muster,  she 
faced  the  offenders.  Oaths  were  foreign  to  her 
fair  lips ;  but  the  stress  of  the  moment  overcame 
her,  and  she  uttered  such  profanity  as  she  would 
not  have  believed  herself  capable  of. 

"Ram's  horn,  if  I  die  for  it!''  she  cried  with 
rage  and  determination. 

Her  violence  amused  the  Hessian  officer  to 
such  an  extent  that  he  roared  with  laughter,  and 
ordered  his  men  to  conduct » themselves  with 
decency. 

The  house  still  preserves  early  treasures — ^big 
fireplaces,  one  having  the  old  corner  cupboard 
built  above  it;  the  finely  hand-carved  woodwork; 
the  hand-made  hinges  with  heavy  rivets;  even 
hand-made  nails  of  huge  dimensions  have  been 
found  in  making  repairs,  and  kept  as  mementoes 
of  Mistress  Plume's  day. 

At  the  corner  of  Gouvernetir  Street  and  Mt. 


Story  of  Mistress  Plxime  149 

Pleasant  Avenue  stands  Cockloft  Hall,  conven- 
iently reached  from  the  Clinton  Avenue  car  line. 
Clinton  Avenue,  by  the  way,  is  one  of  the  oldest 
roads  in  Newark,  being  merely  a  broadening  and 
straightening  of  an  important  Indian  trail. 
The  house  stands  two  short  blocks  from  it.  It 
is  withdrawn  from  the  street,  surrotmded  by  a 
large  lawn,  and  is  well  kept.  Many  years  ago 
Washington  Irving  visited  it,  and  wrote  SaU 
magundi  beneath  its  hospitable  roof. 

The  house  was  built  by  the  Gouverneur  family 
and  occupied  by  Gouverneur  Kemble,  and  it  was 
a  famous  resort  for  Irving,  Paulding,  and 
other  men  of  letters.  Irving  and  his  friends  were 
called  the  **Lads  of  Kilkenny''  and  known  to 
everyone  around  as  the  merriest  of  companies. 
The  host  whom  Irving  describes  was  Isaac 
Gouverneur. 

Even  now  the  place  has  charm  enough  to 
explain  those  passages  in  which  the  author, 
walking  on  the  Battery,  reflects  upon  the 
crowded  staleness  of  the  city  and  the  delights 
of  the  open. 

''I  all  at  once  discovered  that  it  was  but  to 
pack  up  my  portmanteau,  bid  adieu  for  awhile 
to  my  elbow  chair,  and  in  a  little  time  I  should 
be  transported  from  the  region  of  smoke,  and 
noise,  and  dust,  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  far 
sweeter  prospect  and  a  brighter  sky.  The 
next  morning  I  was  off  full  tilt  to  Cockloft  Hall, 


150  Westward 

leaving  my  man  Pompey  to  follow  at  his  leisure 
with  my  baggage.  .  .  .  The  Hall  is  pleasantly 
situated  on  the  banks  of  a  sweet  pastoral  stream; 
not  so  near  town  as  to  invite  an  inundation  of 
idle  acquaintance,  who  come  to  lounge  away  an 
afternoon,  nor  so  distant  as  to  render  it  an 
absolute  deed  of  charity  or  friendship  to  perform 
the  journey.  It  is  one  of  the  oldest  habitations 
in  the  country,  and  was  built  by  my  cousin 
Christopher's  grandfather,  to  form  a  'snug  re- 
treat, where  he  meant  to  sit  himself  down  in 
his  old  days,  and  be  comfortable  for  the  rest  of 
his  life.'" 

We  hardly  speak  of  the  ''sweet  pastoral 
stream"  which  flows  past  commercial  Newark 
in  such  poetical  phrasing  in  these  days,  but  when 
we  picture  the  Newark  of  then,  we  can  realize 
what  a  refuge  this  spot  was  to  Irving  when  the 
city  pressed  close  upon  his  heels. 

"To  such  as  have  not  yet  lost  the  rural  feeling, 
I  address  this  picture,"  concludes  the  author, 
"and  in  the  honest  sincerity  of  a  warm  heart  I 
invite  them  to  turn  aside  from  bustle,  care  and 
toil,  to  tarry  with  me  for  a  season,  in  the 
hospitable  mansion  of  the  Cocklofts. " 

A  little  way  behind  Newark,  on  the  road  to 
Elizabeth,  lies  old  Lyons  Farms.  This  is  not 
the  district  known  to  the  real-estate  agent 
and  the  bungalow  dweller  as  Lyons  Farms  to- 
day.   The  latter  is  some  distance  further,  much 


Cochloft  Hall  151 

nearer  to  Elizabeth.  The  old  district,  first 
claimant  to  the  name,  is  reached  by  following 
Elizabeth  Avenue  to  where  houses  begin  to  thin 
out  and  fields  appear.  At  the  corner  of  Chancel- 
lor Street  stands  one  of  the  old  Lyons  Farms 
buildings. 

It  is  known  now  as  an  open-air  school.  Here 
is  another  striking  instance,  similar  to  that  of 
the  Presbyterian  Church,  of  an  ancient  building, 
charged  with  our  oldest  United  States  tradi- 
tion, dedicated  to  the  most  advanced  of  present- 
day  uses.  There  is  a  certain  charm  in  finding  an 
old  building  of  respected  lineage  keeping  abreast 
of  the  times.  For  the  wooden  predecessor  of  this 
little  old  stone  schoolhouse  was  built  in  the  year 
1728,  when  the  ground  on  which  it  stands  was 
purchased  from  the  Hackensack  Indians  for  the 
price  of  a  quarter-pound  of  powder. 

It  grew  to  have  an  extremely  high  standing  as 
an  institution — ^in  fact,  it  was  known  as  the 
finest  school  in  the  State  of  New  Jersey.  So 
strong  was  its  reputation  for  thoroughness  and 
advancement,  that  the  boys  who  attended  it 
traveled  hither  from  remote  regions,  to  be 
prepared  for  college  beneath  its  small  roof. 

This  school  played  its  part  in  the  Revolution. 
During  the  brief  time  that  Washington  paused 
in  Newark  on  his  way  to  winter  quarters  in 
Morristown,  he  stopped  here  and  spoke  to  the 
children.    We  can  picture  how  those  who  lived 


152  Westijirard 

to  grow  up  used  to  remember  his  words  and  tell 
the  story  to  their  own  grandchildren. 

The  building  came  to  be  a  headquarters  for 
public  gatherings,  and  its  yard,  along  with  the 
surrounding  fields,  was  used  for  the  marshaling 
of  fiye  thousand  soldiers,  one  of  the  largest 
bodies  of  those  whom  the  State  of  New  Jersey 
sent  to  the  War  for  Independence.  The  little 
wooden  building  which  originally  stood  on  this 
spot  was  burned  by  Tory  marauders,  and  in  its 
place  was  erected  the  stone  schoolhouse  which 
now  stands — ^Jersey  brownstone  is  the  material 
used  for  the  stout  walls. 

Modern  science  and  sympathy  have  worked 
together  to  construct  a  school  which  shall  af- 
ford opportunities  for  good  instruction,  and  at 
the  same  time  reconstruct  the  health  of  children 
who  are  held  back  because  of  physical  handicaps. 
An  open-air  addition  has  been  built  at  one  end, 
and  here  the  youngsters  of  the  Twentieth  Cent- 
ury work  and  get  into  mischief  much  as  those 
of  George  Washington's  period  did. 

Standing  on  the  height  which  surrounds  the 
school  you  are  within  sight  of  the  old  Lyons 
farmhouse.  It  lies  in  a  hollow  near  by.  This 
building  is  said  to  be  the  oldest  house  in  the 
State,  dating  back  more  than  one  hundred  years 
before  the  Revolution. 

William  Meeker  built  it  about  1670,  and  it 
housed  seven  generations  of  the  same  family. 


ScHool  Visited  hy  WasHin^ton      153 

It  touched  Revolutionary  history  many  sC  time, 
harboring  those  who  took  part  in  the  war  and 
receiving  disturbing  calls  from  redcoats.  The 
great-great-grandson  of  the  builder,  Josiah  by 
name,  served,  in  a  way,  in  the  war,  although  the 
care  of  his  aged  and  feeble  mother  prevented  him 
from  leaving  home  to  enter  active  service  at  the 
front.  But  his  assistance  rendered  in  frequently 
carrying  messages  did  much  to  help  the  American 
cause. 

The  last  of  the  long  line  of  descent  of  this 
family  was  William  Grummon,  who  dwelt  in  the 
house  during  a  long  lifetime.  His  death,  in 
1 9 13,  brought  the  line  to  an  end.  The  present 
dwellers  have  no  connection  with  the  traditions 
of  the  place,  and  the  building  has  slipped  far  into 
decay. 

Powles  Hook,  which  was  the  natural  key  to 
communication  with  Newark  and  the  roads 
beyond,  occupied  the  same  spot  as  the  Jersey 
City  which  was  incorporated  in  1820.  There 
are  almost  a  dozen  spellings  of  the  Dutch-born 
name.  Its  chief  r61e  in  history  was  played  when 
''Light-Horse  Harry  Lee*'  successfully  attacked 
the  British  garrison  stationed  there  in  August, 
1779. 

Powles  Hook  was  a  farming  district  until  the 
year  1764,  when  the  establishment  of  a  ferry  took 
place,  and  thus  did  the  early  New  Yorker  set  out 
for  the  lower  Jersey  shore.    From  that  time  on. 


154  Westward 

business  sprang  up  axound  the  ferry.  A  tavern 
and  ferry-house  in  one  were  erected  by  Michael 
Cornelisson,  and  here  the  travelers  across 
North  River  paused  to  gossip  and  regale  them- 
selves. 


CHAPTER  XI 

ELIZABETH,   AND   THE   KING'S  HIGHWAY 

IN  the  days  when  powdered  hair  towered  high 
upon  fair  heads,  when  waists  were  wasp- 
like and  stiff  silks  rustled;  when  knee-breeches 
flourished  and  gentlemanly  hats  were  cocked; 
when  the  strains  of  stately  minuet  music  floated 
from  ballroom  windows;  when  the  "scarlet 
fever,"  as  Susannah  Livingston  dubbed  it,  was 
raging  among  American  belles,  because  of  all  the 
fascinating  redcoats  turned  loose  in  our  land  to 
wreck  property,  and  hearts  into  the  bargain — ^in 
those  days  Elizabethtown  was  at  its  height. 

Few  towns  in  our  country's  history  record  as 
glittering  a  tale  of  the  past  as  does  Elizabeth. 
Our  national  tradition  is  so  largely  composed  of 
gallantly-borne  hardships,  of  battle,  persecution, 
and  grimlyrwon  victories,  that  the  Elizabethan 
tales  contrast  with  these  as  if  they  were  glimpses 
of  an  early  French  court. 

In  Revolutionary  times  this  town  was  one  of 
the  leading  social  centers  of  America.     To  a  great 

155 


156  "Westward 

extent  this  was  due  to  its  being  accessible  from 
many  directions.  The  highway  from  Newark 
opened  one  easy  way  to  it  from  New  York;  the 
same  road  continued  on  to  Philadelphia,  and 
made  it  thus  open  to  both  large  cities.  Besides 
this,  the  ferry,  its  early  means  of  communication 
with  the  outer  world,  was  much  in  use,  and  minor 
roads  led  inland  to  minor  points. 

In  earliest  days  there  was  a  road  leading  on 
past  New  Brtinswick,  and  known  as  ''the  upper 
road.''  At  times  of  high  water  this  was  not 
passable,  as,  in  its  course,  the  Raritan  and  the 
Delaware  rivers  both  had  to  be  forded.  But 
in  time  these  primitive  fordings  were  done  away 
with,  the  road  was  widened,  straightened,  and 
made  smoother,  and  it  was  at  last  distinguished 
by  the  title  of  ''The  King's  Highway."  Along 
this  Highway  social  life  flowed  for  many  years. 

Elizabeth  is  fortunate  in  preserving  a  number 
of  the  old  houses  which  are  strongly  associated 
with  its  early  and  sparkling  history.  In  and 
about  East  Jersey  Street  you  will  find  yourself 
in  the  midst  of  one  of  the  most  aristocratic 
residence  sections  of  any  of  the  New  Jersey 
towns. 

At  No.  1 105  East  Jersey  Street  you  will  see  a 
doctor's  sign  of  the  Twentieth  Centtiry  hanging 
before  an  old  and  dignified  door.  This  house,  of 
good  old  colonial  pattern,  is  the  residence  which 
Dr.  William  Barnet,  that  famously  testy  old 


A  Pill  or  a  Scolding  157 

physician,  built  in  1763,  and  which  later  became 
famous  as  the  home  of  General  Winfield  Scott. 

Dr.  Barnet,  its  first  occupant,  was  a  surgeon 
in  the  American  army  during  the  War  of  Inde- 
pendence, and  is  said  to  have  been  the  man  who 
introduced  vaccination  into  the  town  of  Eliza- 
beth, a  matter  of  great  importance  in  those  days, 
because  of  the  prevalence  of  smallpox.  Dr. 
Barnet  was  so  quick-tempered,  tradition  has  it, 
that  no  patient  could  be  sure  in  visiting  him 
whether  he  would  receive  a  pill,  a  scolding,  or 
even  a  box  on  the  ear — ^the  latter,  if  Barnet 
believed  the  patient's  ailment  to  be  imaginary. 

During  1781,  when  the  British  ran  riot  here- 
abouts, the  doctor's  house  was  pltmdered.  It 
is  recorded  that  he  said  indignantly:  ''They 
emptied  my  feather  beds  in  the  street,  broke  in 
windows,  smashed  my  mirrors,  and  left  our  pan- 
try and  storeroom  department  bare.  I  could 
forgive  them  all,  but  that  the  rascals  stole  from 
my  kitchen  wall  the  finest  string  of  red  peppers 
in  all  Elizabethtown. " 

Later,  Colonel  Mayo  bought  the  place,  and  his 
daughter  became  the  bride  of  Lieut.-Gen.  Win- 
field  Scott.  This  was  about  the  time  that  the 
eighteen-hundreds  were  ushered  in.  The  first 
years  of  the  young  woman's  married  life  were 
spent  there  happily  with  her  husband;  then 
followed  the  dark  years  when  he  was  away  at 
war.   At  last  this  cloudy  period  was  over,  and  the 


158  Westward 

General  came  home  for  good,  to  spend  his  quiet 
years  in  a  well-earned  rest.  The  house,  called 
Hampton  Place,  was  conducted  like  a  genuine 
old-time  southern  home  (Elizabeth  was  a  great 
summer  resort  for  Southerners  at  that  time),  and 
it  is  said  that  General  Scott  was  uncomfortable 
if  he  ever  sat  down  to  his  dinner  table  without  a 
guest.  He  was  a  Virginian  of  the  old  school,  and 
Hampton  Place  was,  in  spirit,  a  Virginia  home. 

A  little  beyond,  at  No.  1073  in  this  street, 
is  a  house  which  appears  plain  enough  at  first 
glance,  neither  modern  nor  old  in  pattern;  a  sec- 
ond glance  reveals  the  fact  that  old  walls  end 
at  the  top  of  the  second  story,  and  two  newer 
stories  have  been  added  on.  This  is  now  the 
Home  for  Aged  Women,  but  the  brilliant  old 
days  knew  it  as  Boxwood  Hall,  or  the  Boudinot 
mansion,  one  of  the  most  aristocratic  dwellings 
in  the  street. 

If  you  will  ring  the  bell  and  let  a  charmingly 
quaint  little  old  lady  show  you  in,  you  can  see  the 
fine  broad  hall,  the  spacious  rooms,  the  old 
fireplaces  which  were  there  probably  as  early 
as  the  year  1750.  The  family  brought  carved 
mantels  from  France  to  adorn  their  home;  they 
furnished  in  a  manner  which  was  accounted 
lavish  in  that  period,  and  it  is  said  that  Washing- 
ton himself  once  expressed  great  admiration  for 
the  house  decorations  when  visiting  there. 

Samuel  Woodruff  came  first,  then  the  residence 


The  Old  Fort,  Elizabeth,  Built  in  1/34. 


The  Old  Chateau  in  Elizabeth,  the  Home  of  Cavalier  Jouet. 


J 


The  First  Presbyterian  Church,  Elizabeth,  Built  in  1/84.     The 
Origin il  Building  was  Burnt  by  the  British. 


House  in  Elizabeth,  where  General   Winfield  Scott  Lived. 


Redcoats  at  Doxiwood  Hall  159 

passed  into  the  hands  of  Elias  Boudinot-,  who 
dwelt  in  it  during  the  Revolution.  He  was 
President  of  the  Continental  Congress,  and,  in 
that  capacity,  signed  the  treaty  of  peace  with 
Great  Britain.  He  gave  the  house  its  never-to- 
be-forgotten  name  of  Boxwood  Hall  by  planting 
a  great  number  of  boxwoods  around  it;  these 
are  now  dead,  but  their  tradition  remains. 

Many  famous  visitors  were  entertained  at  this 
home.  In  1789  Washington  stopped  here  on  his 
way  to  the  ceremonies  of  his  inauguration.  He 
met  a  committee  of  Congress  and  lunched  in  the 
great  dining-room.  It  was  at  the  Livingston 
home,  by  the  way,  that  Mrs.  Washington  stopped 
on  her  way  to  join  her  husband  during  these  same 
festivities ;  this  was  Liberty  Hall,  on  the  other  side 
of  town.  Years  later,  when  Jonathan  Dajrton  lived 
at  Boxwood  he  entertained  Lafayette — ^in  1834. 

During  the  war.  Boxwood  Hall  was  levied  on 
by  a  party  of  redcoats,  and  the  daughter  Susan 
held  her  own  in  quick  retort  to  the  commanding 
officer.  One  of  the  members  of  the  household 
had  asked  for  British  protection,  she  indignantly 
reminded  him. 

"It  was  not  by  your  advice,  I  presume,"  he 
replied,  and  her  fearless  answer  faced  him: 

''That  it  never  was,  I  can  tell  you.*' 

She  was  known  to  her  father  as  his  "little 
lamb,  *'  a  name  given  in  a  mood  of  affectionate 
paternal  satire. 


i6o  "West^ward 

This  daughter  of  the  Boudinots,  with  her 
swift-blooded  French  descent, — one  of  the  old 
Huguenot  families  they  were,  fleeing  to  our 
land  after  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes 
— ^married  and  lived  to  become  one  of  the 
famously  brilliant  women  who  surrounded  the 
President's  wife  in  Philadelphia,  when  it  was 
the  seat  of  our  government.  During  the  war, 
the  Hon.  Elias  Boudinot  spent  much  time  in 
Philadelphia,  but  he  settled  down  for  a  period 
of  rest  afterwards,  among  his  boxwoods.  He 
finally  moved  to  Philadelphia,  and  the  house 
fell  into  other  hands;  it  has  had  various  private 
occupants,  has  been  a  young  ladies'  boarding 
school,  and  is  now  a  home  for  the  aged.  Its 
best-known  occupants  were  the  first,  Samuel 
Woodruff,  member  of  the  board  of  aldermen, 
the  mayor,  and  a  trustee  of  the  College  of  New 
Jersey;  Boudinot  himself;  andlQeneral  Dayton, 
prominent  in  Congress,  and  an  early  United 
States  Senator  from  New  Jersey^ 

A  famous  incident  connected  with  the  history 
of  the  building  is  that  the  slain  body  of  Parson 
Caldwell,  the  ''Fighting  Parson*'  of  the  Presby- 
terian Church,  was  placed  on  view  on  the  steps  in 
front  of  the  house.  The  funeral  was  held  here 
and  an  address  was  made  by  Boudinot. 

Across  the  street  and  a  few  doors  beyond,  at 
the  southwest  corner  of  Catherine  Street,  is  a 
house  now  known  as  ' '  the  Dix  home. ' '     This  was 


''Ripening  for  Heaven**  i6i 

the  home  of  Governor  Jonathan  Belchfer,  so 
renowned  for  his  saintliness  that  Whitefield  said 
of  him,  ''He  is  ripening  for  Heaven  apace." 
This  is  a  most  interesting  statement  to  reflect 
upon,  as  applied  to  a  distinguished  occupant  of  a 
high  poHtical  position.  But  the  fact  that  this 
saintly  and  esteemed  gentleman  dwelt  here  seems 
to  hold  a  minor  place  in  popular  history,  com- 
pared with  the  fact  that  perhaps  the  most 
brilliant  wedding  of  the  Revolution  took  place 
within  these  walls. 

It  meant  bravery  to  give  a  consjiicuous  social 
function  in  those  times,  for  the  redcoats  took  it 
upon  themselves  to  raid  and  make  all  sorts  of 
trouble  wherever  they  heard  of  such  affairs 
going  on.  But  when  Miss  "Caty"  Smith,  the 
daughter  of  William  Peartree  Smith,  was  to  be 
married — although  it  was  the  troublous  year 
1778 — ^it  was  determined  that  the  Belcher  house, 
where  the  ceremony  was  to  be  held,  should  be  as 
gay  as  possible,  and  let  the  redcoats  do  their 
best  to  spoil  the  fun!  ''Caty"  was  to  be  mar- 
ried to  young  Boudinot,  so  the  wedding  was  a 
great  event  in  every  way,  and  the  most  dis- 
tinguished of  Americans  were  to  be  present. 

The  great  day  came  and  the  guests  assembled. 
No  less  a  person  than  Alexander  Hamilton  was 
master  of  ceremonies,  Washington  and  Lafay- 
ette were  guests.  The  lights  poured  forth  into 
the  quiet  street,  music  and  voices  rang,  the 

zx 


1 62  W^est-ward 

gayety  reached  an  unprecedented  height.  Any 
nervousness  which  may  have  been  felt  at 
first,  passed  as  the  hours  went  by  without 
molestation. 

But  a  fortnight  later  the  price  of  festivity  was 
paid.  _  A  party  of  British  soldiers,  having  heard 
of  the  affair,  came  to  the  house;  finding  the 
young  husband  absent,  they  raided,  destroying 
the  furniture  and  many  valuable  family  portraits 
in  a  wanton  manner.  The  poor  young  bride  was 
so  terrified  that  she  could  not  remain  in  the 
house,  and  her  husband  was  obliged  to  build  a 
new  home  for  her  in  Newark. 

The  house  where  all  these  events  took  place 
is  unusually  well  preserved.  Its  carved  mantel 
is  one  of  the  old  features;  the  original  narrow 
staircase  with  its  newel  post  fixed  by  a  wooden 
peg  is  in  evidence;  the  corner  cupboard  of 
Governor  Belcher,  now  brought  down  to  the 
dining-room  from  his  upstairs  study;  the  ancient 
lock,  with  its  huge  key  of  early  pattern;  and 
great  hinges  spreading  entirely  across  the  front 
doors.  Old  Dutch  tiles  showing  views  of  Hol- 
land scenery  in  blue  on  white  rival  the  Biblical 
Dutch  tiles  of  Boxwood  Hall  across  the  street. 

Not  far  from  this  haughty  old  residence  dis- 
trict is  a  humble  little  byway  known  as  ''Thomp- 
son's Lane."  Just  near  Bridge  Street,  in  this 
Lane,  is  the  old  fort,  built  in  1734  by  Captain 
John  Hunloke.     It  is  modest  in  appearance,  but 


THe  Hetfield  House  163 

examination  reveals  stout  walls,  ready  to  face 
the  enemy. 

Follow  a  little  way  along  Bridge  Street,  trace 
Pearl  Street  to  its  foot,  near  the  Elizabeth  River, 
and  you  will  come  to  the  oldest  house  in  the  city. 
It  is  known  as  the  Hetfield  house,  a  dreary  little 
structure  to-day,  in  a  lonely  spot  and  a  dismal 
district.  But  its  supposed  date  of  1682  is 
enough  to  give  it  interest.  There  is  a  tradition 
that  early  councils  between  the  whites  and  the 
Indians  were  held  within  these  walls,  which  have 
evidently  been  considerably  rebuilt  since  those 
days.  The  property  was  conveyed  by  Lubber- 
son  to  Matthias  Heathfield,  who  passed  it  on  to 
his  descendants. 

Returning  to  Broad  Street,  you  will  find  the 
old  First  Presbyterian  Church,  where  the  famous 
''Fighting  Parson''  Caldwell  preached  soon 
after  he  was  ordained.  The  parish  was  one  of 
the  earliest  in  New  Jersey,  having  been  organized 
in  1664.  In  1780,  when  times  were  stirring  in 
Elizabethtown,  and  the  homes  of  Americans  were 
being  raided,  the  church  was  burned  down.  But 
the  site  was  retained,  and  in  1784  the  Presby- 
terians rebuilt  here.  The  spire  and  clock  are 
visible  for  a  long  distance. 

A  side  trip  to  408  Rahway  Avenue  brings  you 
to  the  old  chateau,  the  Jouet  hotise  of  history.  It 
stands  well  back  from  the  street  and  high  above 
the  sidewalk,  a  long,  broad  walk  stretching  up 


164  Westward 

through  the  sweep  of  lawn  to  its  door.  Large 
trees  shade  it.  Old-fashioned  shutters  protect 
the  windows. 

This  estate  belonged  to  Cavalier  Jouet,  a  de- 
scendant of  Daniel  Jouet,  the  mayor  of  Angers  in 
France;  and  of  Marie  Cavalier,  who  was  a  sister 
of  Jean  Cavalier,  the  famous  ''Camisard. '■ 
During  the  time  of  Louis  XIV  he  was  the  hero 
of  the  wars  of  the  Cevennes. 

Cavalier  Jouet  sided  with  the  British  during 
the  Revolution,  and  was  ardent  in  his  Toryism 
with  the  ardor  of  his  French  blood.  His  prop- 
erty was  confiscated.  But  for  all  its  adventures 
and  misadventures,  the  old  house  still  remains  in 
good  preservation. 

Liberty  Hall  is  to  be  found  by  making  still 
another  side  trip,  in  the  direction  of  the  Morris 
Turnpike.  This  was  the  mansion  of  William 
Livingston,  the  distinguished  Revolutionary  gov- 
ernor of  New  Jersey.  The  spirit  of  the  house 
gave  it  the  name  of  Liberty  Hall  during  that 
period,  and  it  is  still  known  as  that. 

The  brilliant  trio  of  daughters,  Sarah,  Susan, 
and  Kitty,  did  as  much  as  the  governor  himself 
to  make  the  Livingston  home  famous.  The 
father,  despite  his  distinction  as  lawyer,  states- 
man, and  patriot,  prided  himself  on  being  a  simple 
Jersey  farmer,  but  the  three  young  ladies  caused 
the  house  to  be  a  headquarters  for  continuous 
gayety. 


"Strawberry  Tea"  165 

Sarah,  the  eldest,  was  a  renowned  beauty,  and 
so  wonderf  111  was  her  complexion  that  a  wager  as 
to  its  honesty  was  laid  between  the  French 
minister  and  Don  Juan  de  Miralles.  The 
latter,  vowing  that  only  art  could  produce  such 
coloring,  insisted  upon  a  test — and  lost.  This 
was  when  Sarah  was  in  France,  where  she  excited 
the  admiration  of  Marie  Antoinette. 

The  next  daughter,  Susan,  or  Susannah,  was  a 
mischief  and  a  wit.  She  it  was  who,  being  for- 
bidden by  her  father  to  drink  tea  after  the  tax 
was  imposed,  took  to  a  beverage  which  she  slyly 
brewed  her  self,  and  told  him  was  merely  ''straw- 
berry tea. ' '  It  appeared  to  be  a  fruity  drink,  but  in 
fact  it  was  the  prohibited  herb,  which  she  colored 
with  strawberry  juice  to  deceive  her  stern  parent. 

It  was  in  the  latter  part  of  1779  that  this 
same  Susannah  performed  her  great  feat  of  fool- 
ing a  group  of  British  soldiers.  Two  regiments, 
one  thousand  strong,  had  come  to  town  with  the 
intent  to  capture  her  father,  and  they  approached 
the  house  late  at  night,  thinking  to  take  him  in 
bed.  He  had  left  the  house  before  their  arrival, 
but  the  first  division  forced  an  entrance  and 
demanded  the  Governor's  dispatch^.  Only 
Susannah  was  ready  to  meet  the  emergency. 
She  led  them  through  the  rooms  while  they 
searched  every  comer  for  the  papers;  at  last  they 
paused  before  a  small  secretary  where,  in  fact, 
the  papers  were. 


1 66  West-ward 

At  this  she  broke  into  a  nervous  tremor. 
With  downcast  looks  she  begged  the  officer  not 
to  open  this  particular  desk.  Her  love  letters 
were  within,  she  gave  him  to  understand,  and 
never  did  an  embarrassed  maiden  play  the  r61e 
more  blushingly.  If  they  would  leave  her  little 
secrets  unseen  and  untouched,  she  would  lead 
them  to  her  father's  dispatches,  she  promised  at 
last;   and  the   British   fully  believed   her  fib. 

She  then  conducted  them  to  another  spot, 
took  down  some  wrapped  and  tied  papers,  and 
turned  them  over. '  The  raiders  gleefully  stuffed 
them  into  the  forage  bags  and  made  off,  not 
learning  until  some  time  afterward  that  all  they 
had  for  booty  was  a  bundle  of  old  law  briefs,  as 
worthless  to  them  as  blank  paper. 

In  1774  Sarah  was  married  in  the  parlor  of  this 
house  to  John  Jay.  Years  later  Susannah's 
daughter  eloped  from  a  window  with  William 
Henry  Harrison,  who  became  the  ninth  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States.  Often  the  dwelling 
sheltered  troops.  When  the  British  were  forag- 
ing in  the  vicinity,  the  Livingstons  had  to  desert 
the  house.  After  the  war  was  over  Mrs.  Wash- 
ington stopped  here  on  her  way  to  her  husband's 
inauguration  festivities.  These  are  but  a  few 
of  the  many  traditions  connected  with  the  house. 

In  1 9 14  the  inhabitants  of  Elizabeth  celebrated 
the  town's  two-hundred-and-fiftieth  birthday. 
Not  many  years  before  this  a  record  showed 


Trade  in  Peltries  167 

that  there  were  over  forty  houses  there,  built 
prior  to  the  Revolution,  and  the  number  had 
not  greatly  diminished  at  the  time  of  the 
celebration. 

In  1609  the  first  old-world  eye  discovered  the 
spot  on  which  the  town  was  built  later;  this  was 
three  days  before  the  Half -Moon  cast  anchor  in 
Sandy  Hook  Bay.  A  party  explored  the  region, 
saw  Indians,  and  found  that  there  was  a  fine 
opening  for  a  trade  in  peltries.  This  trade  was 
opened  with  Holland,  Manhattan  being  the 
means  of  commimication ;  from  Manhattan  the 
Dutch  merchants  came  to  traffic  with  the  natives 
for  the  fine  skins  they  had  captured.  Later  the 
spot  became  a  Dutch  colony.  But  Elizabeth- 
town  was  not  created  until  1664;  people  came 
thither  from  Long  Island,  others  from  Con- 
necticut, and  a  permanent  settlement  was 
established,  the  first  in  New  Jersey. 

A  deed  was  executed  by  Mattano  and  other 
Indian  chiefs,  conveying  all  the  land  from  the 
Raritan  River  north  to  the  Passaic,  and  twice 
as  great  a  stretch  from  east  to  west.  The  Gov- 
ernor confirmed  the  deed  by  a  separate  grant; 
dwellings  began  to  rise.  The  earliest  portion 
of  the  town  lay  along  the  river. 

Sir  George  Carteret,  one  of  the  proprietors, 
had  a  wife  Elizabeth,  and  from  her  the  town 
got  its  name.  Philip  Carteret  was  appointed 
Governor;  and  it  is  told  of  him  after  his  appoint- 


1 68  Westward 

ment  he  walked  up  from  the  landing  place 
through  the  street  carrying  a  hoe  across  his 
shoulder,  to  prove  his  pledge,  that  he  would 
become  a  planter  along  with  the  settlers. 

The  town  grew  to  importance.  In  1747 
Princeton  College  was  opened  here,  Jonathan 
Dickinson  being  at  its  head.  It  was  later 
moved  to  Newark,  when  he  died. 

And  so  Elizabethtown  passed  on  to  the  bril- 
liancy of  social  life  which  was  at  its  height  during 
the  war  period,  although  there  were  Revolution- 
ary troubles  to  cast  a  shadow  over  its  gayety. 
The  Battle  of  Elizabethtown  took  place  on  June 
8,  1780,  the  English  and  Hessians  being  repulsed 
by  the  citizens;  on  the  site  stands  a  statue  of  the 
Minute-Man,  at  Union  Square.  Raids  were 
frequent.  But  after  the  war,  the  town  once  more 
resumed  its  gayety  without  check.  Much  stir 
accompanied  the  first  inauguration,  and  from 
here  Washington  crossed  on  his  way  to  the 
ceremony,  by  the  ferry  near  the  foot  of  Elizabeth 
Avenue. 

Continuing  on  along  the  old  turnpike  from 
Elizabethtown,  we  come  to  Rahway,  known  to 
early  history  as  Spank  Town.  Here  a  battle 
was  fought  during  the  Revolution — a  battle  only 
two  hours  long,  but  worth  remembering  as  the 
last  engagement  of  the  Americans  with  the 
enemy  when  the  latter  was  driven  out  of  New 
Jersey,  with  the  exception  of  Amboy  and  New 


MarsK*8  Saiw-mill  169 

Brunswick,  after  their  defeat  at  Trenton*  and 
Princeton  in  1777. 

Rahway's  first  saw-mill  was  btiilt  on  the  south 
side  of  the  river  in  1683,  just  above  the  railroad 
bridge  of  modem  years.  The  following  document 
records  its  establishment: 

"A  meeting  of  ye  Inhabitants  of  Elizabeth- 
town,  June  ye  25,  1683:  Voted  that  John  Marsh 
have  Liberty  and  Consent  from  ye  towne  soe  far 
as  they  are  concerned  to  gett  timber  to  saw  at 
his  Saw-mill  upon  Land  not  Surveyed,  lying  upon 
Rawhay  River  or  ye  branches  or  elsewheare,  so 
far  as  he  shall  have  occasion  to  fetch  timber 
for  ye  above  mill. 

*'And  the  said  John  Marsh  doth  pledge  him- 
self to  ye  inhabitants  of  ye  towne  to  saw  for  them 
Logs  if  they  bring  them  to  ye  mill,  one-half  of  ye 
boards  or  timber  for  sawing  the  other,  that  is  so 
much  as  is  for  their  particular  use.  *' 

David  Oliver  was  one  of  the  early  landowners 
at  Rahway,  and  his  son,  David  Oliver,  2d,  be- 
came a  notorious  Tory  and  refugee,  and  his 
name  is  connected  with  the  annals  of  the  town. 
An  accoimt  in  the  New  Jersey  Journal  of  1782 
tells  of  his  adventtrre  the  week  before,  when, 
along  with  a  band  of  refugees  from  Staten 
Island^  he  attempted  to  carry  off  cattle  from 
Elizabethtown.  The  party  took  a  gunboat 
for  the  raid,  and  proceeded  to  the  mouth  of 
Elizabethtown  Creek.     They  were  waylaid  by 


170  Westward 

a  party  under  Captain  Jonathan  Dayton,  who 
had  been  informed  of  their  move  and  was 
lying  in  wait  for  them.  In  the  skirmish  some 
of  the  refugees  were  shot,  some  captured; 
Oliver  escaped  to  Rahway,  where  he  was  taken 
later,  in  the  night.  He  flourished  under  the 
popular  appellation  of  ''the  dread  of  the 
inhabitants  on  the  lines." 

Another  turnpike,  forking  from  Elizabeth- 
town,  used  to  lead  to  Woodbridge.  This  was 
one  of  the  oldest  townships  in  Middlesex  County, 
its  charter  being  dated  June  i,  1669.  It  was  a 
peaceful,  law-abiding  community,  with  whose 
growth  were  identified  some  Puritans  from  New 
England,  and  many  Quakers — ^the  town  came 
to  be  a  headquarters  for  the  Friends'  Church. 
A  glimpse  of  the  thrifty,  prosperous  life  of 
early  dwellers  in  Woodbridge  is  caught  in  this 
quotation  from  Denton's  Brief  Description: 

''Nature  had  furnished  the  country  with  all 
sorts  of  wild  beasts  and  fowl,  which  gave  them 
their  food  and  much  of  their  clothing.  Fat  veni- 
son, turkeys,  geese,  heath-hens,  cranes,  swans, 
ducks,  pigeons  and  the  Hke.  The  streams 
abounded  with  fish,  etc.  Here  you  need  not 
trouble  the  shambles  for  meat,  nor  bakers  and 
brewers  for  beer  and  bread,  nor  run  to  a  linen- 
draper  for  a  supply,  everyone  making  their  own 
linen  and  a  great  part  of  their  woolen  cloth  for 
their  ordinary  wearing.  Here  one  may  .  .  .  travel 


Evolution  of  Pri^more's  Si^amp      171 

•  .  .  and  if  one  chance  to  meet  with  an  Indian 
town  they  shall  give  him  the  best  entertainment 
they  have,  and  upon  his  desire  direct  him  on  his 
way." 

Returning  to  the  main  road  running  south 
from  Elizabethtown  and  Rahway,  the  old  Middle- 
sex SLXid  Essex  Turnpike,  you  continue  to  New 
Brunswick.  This  town  was  at  one  time  Inians' 
Ferry,  named  for  one  John  Inians;  previous  to 
this,  during  the  Seventeenth  Century,  it  had 
been  Prigmore's  Swamp.  The  first  inhabitant  is 
said  to  have  been  Daniel  Cooper  who  kept  a 
ferry,  his  home  being  at  the  point  where  the 
post  road  of  later  years  crossed  the  river.  About 
the  year  1730  a  group  of  Dutch  families  from 
Albany,  New  York,  arrived  here,  built  them- 
selves houses  from  the^  building  materials  they 
brought  along  with  them,  and  named  the  road 
upon  which  these  houses  fronted,  ''Albany 
Street."  The  settlement  now  began  to  wear 
the  appearance  of  a  budding  village. 

It  continued  to  grow,  and  at  the  time  of  the 
Revolution  was  a  town  of  importance.  Its 
history  during  that  war  was  full  of  distress,  for 
New  Brunswick  lay  in  the  path  of  both  armies 
as  they  repeatedly  crossed  back  and  forth  through 
the  State.  It  passed  from  the  hands  of  the 
Americans  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and 
during  the  winter  of  1776-77  it  was  occupied 
by  the  British,  under  Cornwallis. 


172  Westward 

Here  the  enemy  made  themselves  at  home  for 
a  long  stay.  Howe  himself  had  headquarters 
in  Burnet  Street,  in  the  home  of  Neilson.  The 
Hessian  commander  was  in  the  Van  Ntiise  house 
in  Queen  Street.  A  post  was  erected  at  Raritan 
landing,  another  on  Bennet's  Island,  two  miles 
below  the  city;  there  were  fortifications  built 
on  the  hill  beyond  the  theological  seminary; 
British  officers  took  and  occupied  the  houses  of 
citizens  here  and  there;  and  the  encampment 
was  made  on  William  Van  Detirsen's  property, 
below  New  Street. 

For  six  months  the  British  owned  the  town, 
and  the  citizens  were  subjected  to  all  the  misery 
of  such  a  situation.  All  their  schools,  chtirches, 
and  business  had  to  be  closed,  many  had  to  sur- 
render their  homes,  barns  in  the  surrounding 
cotmtry  were  torn  down  to  furnish  timber  for 
a  temporary  bridge  across  the  river,  and  the 
farmers  were  compelled  to  hand  over  their  stores 
to  the  greedy  enemy.  But  although  the  period 
of  occupancy  caused  great  suffering  among  the 
American  citizens,  the  British  were  not  left  in 
peace. 

Several  American  officers  with  high-spirited 
patriots  tmder  them  caused  the  British  consider- 
able disttirbance.  At  one  time,  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  winter,  the  enemy  became  cut  off 
from  supplies,  the  base  being  at  Amboy.  They 
looked  for  relief  from  a  fleet  loaded  with  pro- 


Captain  Hxler^s  Expeditions  173 

visions,  which  it  was  planned  to  send  up*  the 
Raritan  River.  But  the  Americans  planted  a 
battery  of  six  cannon  on  the  shore,  and  just  as 
the  fleet  was  rounding  the  point  in  the  morning 
the  cannon  opened  fire — ^to  the  end  that  five 
boats  were  disabled  and  sunk,  the  remainder 
sent  back,  a  sadder  and  a  wiser  fleet,  to  Amboy. 

Captain  Hyler,  famous  for  his  gallant,  adven- 
turous spirit,  commanded  several  large  whale- 
boats,  and  a  gtmboat,  the  Defiance.  He  made  a 
business  of  troubling  the  enemy's  trading- vessels 
and  plundering  parties,  going  forth  to  any  spot 
where  he  knew  them  to  be — off  Sandy  Hook, 
near  Staten  Island,  down  the  Raritan,  and  so 
on.  One  of  his  excursions  resulted  in  the  capture 
of  five  vessels  in  a  quarter-hour's  work. 

And  so,  by  skirmishing  with  the  British  out- 
posts about  New  Brunswick,  by  interfering  with 
their  supplies,  by  meeting  and  driving  back 
their  foraging  parties  emerging  from  the  town, 
several  American  officers  caused  this  half-year 
to  be  one  of  not  undisturbed  peace  to  Howe  and 
ComwaUis. 


CHAPTER  XII 

WITH  THE  STAGECOACH  TO  PLAINFIELD,  AND  ON 
TO    BOUND    BROOK 

IF  we  had  the  eyes  to  look  along  a  certain  New 
Jersey  road  and  see  emerging  from  the  cloud 
of  dust,  not  a  thirty-horse-power,  wind-shielded 
scarlet  machine  of  to-day,  but  a  totally  different 
type  of  vehicle,  we  might  travel  along  that  same 
road  to  Yesterday.  The  vehicle  of  the  imag- 
ination is  of  quaint  construction,  both  broad 
and  high,  mounted  upon  wide  straps  of  leather 
and  swinging  freely  with  an  easy,  ship-like 
motion.  Its  vigorous  driver  is  cracking  his  whip 
over  hurrying  horses'  heads.  Some  centtiry 
ago  the  ancient  stagecoach  plied  the  old  New 
Jersey  road  to  Westfield,  and  to  Plainfield,  and 
beyond. 

Both  were  changing  points  for  the  stage  horses 
in  the  early  eighteen-hundreds — points  at  which 
halts  were  made  before  going  into  the  deeper 
country  and  on  to  more  remote  towns.  In  fact 
it  was  not  until  1838  that  the  mails  in  that 
direction  were  carried  by  railroad  as  far  as 

174 


The  Hetfield  House,  the  Oldest  House  in  Elizabeth,  Built  about  1682. 


House  at  South  Bound  Brook,  where  BaroJt  Steuben  had  Quarters  and  Entertained 

Washington. 


Mounted  Cannon  on  Washington's  Camp  Ground  above  Bound  Brook. 


The  Battle  Monument  at  Bound  Brook,  on  the  Site  of  the  Battle  of  1777. 


Roxite  of  the  Old  CoacK  173 

Plainfield,  and  even  then  the  stage  had  still  to 
carry  them  to  points  beyond  for  a  number  of 
years.  The  most  traveled  local  roads  before 
1800  were  one  from  Qtiibbleton  (now  New 
Market)  to  Scotch  Plains,  and  a  road  to  Rah- 
way,  beginning  at  a  point  near  where  Peace 
Street  now  is.  Common  roads  interwove  among 
the  towns  in  this  direction,  connecting  them 
with  Elizabeth  and  Newark  more  or  less  directly. 
To-day  the  trolley  passes  from  Westfield  through 
Scotch  Plains,  Plainfield,  and  Bound  Brook,  sug- 
gesting the  route  of  the  old  coach  which  al- 
ternately rocked  and  lurched  the  traveler  of  a 
century  ago. 

Westfield  is  an  old  town,  having  been  laid 
out  as  the  western  field  of  the  borough  of  Eliza- 
beth about  the  year  1720.  The  early  settlers 
were  much  disturbed  by  Indians,  and  there  were 
several  more  or  less  serious  frays  with  them, 
until  the  French  war  drew  the  peace-disttirbers 
to  Canada.  The  early  history  of  the  town  and 
surroundings  abounds  in  woes;  not  only  were 
Indians  thick,  but  wolves  as  well,  to  such  an 
extent  that  a  bounty  of  thirty  shillings  was 
offered  for  the  death  of  a  wolf.  And  a  report 
from  Ash  Swamp,  Short  Hills,  in  1750,  states: 
''About  ten  days  ago  a  shower  of  hail  as  big  as 
hens'  eggs  destroyed  fields  of  wheat  and  corn, 
limbs  of  trees  broke  to  pieces,  and  of  birds  and 
fowls  scarce  one  was  saved."     The  heaping-up 


176  West-ward 

of  troubles  recalls  the  history  of  bleeding 
Kansas  later  on. 

But  there  is  a  brighter  side  to  Westfield  lore. 
It  surrounds  the  merry  inn  kept  by  Charles 
Oilman,  on  the  main  street  opposite  the  road 
to  Rahway.  It  was  known  as  "The  Stage 
House ''  and  was  famed  throughout  the  surround- 
ing country  as  a  headquarters  for  most  genial 
company.  It  acquired  a  special  reputation  for 
its  flip,  a  favorite  beverage  of  that  period,  for 
which  Clayton  gives  the  following  recipe: 

'*A  quart  jug  nearly  filled  with  malt-beer, 
sweetened,  a  red-hot  poker  being  thrust  into 
the  liquid  and  kept  there  until  a  foam  is  pro- 
duced, when  a  half-pint  of  rum  is  poured  in 
and  some  nutmeg  grated  upon  it/' 

Mr.  Oilman,  in  his  blue  coat  with  brass  but- 
tons, welcomed  all  travelers  at  the  door,  invited 
them  in  to  a  mug  of  flip  at  the  price  of  three  pence, 
and  a  meal  of  beans,  cabbage,  corn-bread,  and 
bacon  at  35.  6d.  So  familiar  and  well-loved  was 
his  figure  that  upon  his  passing  away  a  bard  sang, 
in  paraphrase  of  the  lines  on  ''Old  Crimes, " 

Old  Oilman  is  dead,  that  gcx)d  old  man, 

We  ne'er  shall  see  him  more; 
He  used  to  wear  a  long  blue  coat 

All  buttoned  down  before. 

Upon  his  demise  his  widow  assumed  charge  of 
the  hostelry  and  became  known  as  Aunt  Polly 


QuaKers  Afoot  and  AHorsebacK    177 

Oilman.  The  inn  has  long  since  been  removed 
and  only  its  tradition  remains. 

Assuming  that  you  are  a  traveler  aboard  the 
rolling  old  vehicle  of  a  century  ago,  and  that 
you  are  continuing  along  a  dusty  road  into 
Plainfield  of  yesterday;  and  that  the  coach  has 
halted  for  a  change  of  horses  and  refreshments  at 
some  old  inn  with  its  swinging  sign -board;  you 
may  dismount  and  have  a  look  at  several  historic 
points 

Most  familiar  of  all  is  the  Quaker  Church. 
The  trolley  of  to-day  enters  the  town  near 
where  this  old  gray  building  stands,  at  the 
corner  of  Watchung  Street  and  North  Avenue. 
Its  sign  reads:  ''1788.  Religious  Society  of 
Friends.  Public  Worship  First  Day  at  11  a.m., 
Fourth  Day  Evening  7:  45.     All  are  welcome." 

At  the  svmimons  of  this  simple  and  welcoming 
sign  did  the  early-day  Quakers  come  plodding 
for  worship  every  First  Day,  some  afoot  from 
farms  miles  away,  some  riding  on  horseback, 
some,  the  older  members  of  the  families,  en- 
throned upon  the  seat  of  chaise  or  gig.  They 
had  settled  all  through  this  region,  clearing  the 
virgin  forest  and  building  houses  of  the  timber 
which  they  hewed.  Their  headquarters  had 
been  at  Woodbridge,  but  so  remote  were  some  of 
the  homes  from  that  center  that  they  estab- 
lished a  meeting  at  Plainfield,  and  in  1787  it  was 
agreed  that  a  house  of  worship  should  be  built. 


178  Westward 

All  of  this  portion  of  New  Jersey  is  strongly 
identified  with  the  history  of  the  Quaker  Chtirch 
in  America,  and  the  Friends  are  the  foundation 
stones  of  much  of  the  prosperity  and  soundness 
that  has  made  the  State.  Their  first  step  was 
always  to  clear  the  forests  and  build  themselves 
homes;  the  instinct  of  substantial  and  con- 
servative home-builditig  was  like  that  of  the 
Dutch.  Pioneering  with  both  of  these  groups 
was  pioneering  for  the  sake  of  a  base,  and 
was  rarely  touched  by  the  spirit  of  adventure, 
although  adventure  was  often  forced  upon  them. 

From  the  original  headquarters  at  Wood- 
bridge,  ramifications  of  Quakerdom  stretched. 
Here,  there,  everywhere,  Quaker  farmhouses 
sprang  up;  firmly  constructed,  firmly  adhered  to. 
Men  hewed  wood  and  broke  ground;  women 
knitted,  wove  cloth  of  their  own  spinning,  plied 
all  the  household  arts  of  that  day,  such  as  the 
making  of  soap,  candles,  and  cheese. 

About  the  period  of  1787,  when  it  was  decided 
that  Plainfield  must  become  a  new  center,  this 
town  was  merely  a  slightly  settled  rural  district. 
It  consisted  of  a  few  scattered  houses,  a  mill,  and 
a  school,  grouped  near  a  cross-road.  After  much 
debate  it  was  decided  to  purchase  three  acres  of 
land  near  the  house  of  John  Webster,  3d,  and 
start  a  meeting  here.  A  house  of  thirty-four 
by  forty-eight  feet  was  arranged  for,  and  upwards 
of  three  himdred  poimds  was  subscribed.     The 


TKe  Q\iaKer  Cemetery  179 

Friends,  who  had  begun  to  settle  in  Plainfield 
township  almost  seventy  years  before,  and  had 
struggled  through  the  hardships  of  the  war  period, 
now  had  a  comfortable  and  restful  spot  for  their 
Sabbath  pilgrimage's  end,  and  from  that  day 
on  they  have  maintained  their  services  in  the 
sturdy  old  building  which  those  three  hundred 
pounds  started. 

Adjoining  the  building  is  to  be  seen  the  simple 
little  cemetery.  There  are  no  imposing  head- 
stones or  ornate  monuments — only  the  plainest 
stones,  a  mere  record  of  the  bare  fact  of  death. 
Not  a  lot  is  to  be  had  for  money — according 
to  tradition,  a  resting-spot  for  the  dead  is 
always  freely  given. 

A  short  walk  beyond  this  old  Quaker  head- 
quarters is  the  center  of  the  original  town — ^the 
corner  of  Front  and  Somerset  streets.  Here,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  a  popula- 
tion of  215  persons  centered;  here  they  hailed 
the  news  brought  in  by  the  stages;  and  here  they 
discussed  this  news  between  the  stages'  visits, 
while  eagerly  awaiting  more.  Three  times  a 
week  the  ''Swiftsure"  line  sent  a  vehicle  be- 
tween New  York  and  Philadelphia,  and  we  can 
picture  the  Plainfielders  of  that  day  gather- 
ing in  the  store  of  Thomas  Nesbit,  later  of 
John  Pitz  Randolph,  and  exchanging  gossip 
and  comment  with  feet  aloft,  while  the  store- 
keeper bartered  his  *'dry  goods,  groceries,  boots 


i8o  liVestward 

and  shoes"  for  "skines,  furs,  tallow,  wax  and 
honny.'* 

On  this  corner  stood  the  store;  just  around 
the  corner  stood. the  ancient  mill  which  was 
the  very  nucleus  of  ''Mill  Town"  as  the  original 
Plainfield  was  called.  Here  ran  the  brook  just 
as  it  runs  now,  and  here,  in  1755,  was  built  the 
original  mill  whither  the  farmers  brought  their 
grists  from  miles  around  of  fertile  farming  land. 
The  mill  changed  hands  a  number  of  times,  and 
was  rebuilt  in  1853,  but  the  lineal  descendant  of 
the  first  building,  now  in  itself  a  very  old  mill, 
stands  back  from  Somerset  Street,  just  around 
the  corner  from  Front  Street,  on  the  right-hand 
side.  It  is  used  as  a  barn,  and  stands  behind 
the  garage,  on  the  property  of  Mr.  French;  it 
may  be  recognized  by  its  bright  green  paint. 
The  old  landmark  is  preserved  in  excellent 
condition,  and  a  few  steps  up  the  poplar  lane  will 
lead  you  where  you  can  observe  it,  and  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  brook  which  once  ran  its  wheel. 

Around  here  once  clustered  many  an  old 
log  house.  The  mill  property  in  old  days  in- 
cluded not  only  a  grist-mill,  but  a  saw-mill,  a 
dder-mill,  and  a  distillery  as  well.  Moreover, 
several  hundred  hogs  disported  themselves  in  a 
hog  yard,  which  fact,  although  adding  nothing 
to  the  poetry  or  picturesqueness  of  history,  adds 
interest  to  the  commercial  beginnings  of  this 
enterprising  town. 


An  Earlx  Circus  i8i 

That  Plainfield  was  a  stirring  center  for  d,ll  the 
life  of  this  section  is  witnessed  by  the  account  of 
a  local  historian,  who  recalls  that  it  was  the 
general  show  place  for  early  circuses  traveling 
through  this  part  of  New  Jersey.  He  has 
preserved  one  of  the  dodgers  of  such  an  entertain- 
ment, dated  October  22,  1835.  It  announced 
that  a  ''Menagerie  and  Aviary  will  be  exhibited 
in  this  village  on  Tuesday  the  3rd  of  November 
next,  the  largest  collection  of  animals  ever 
exhibited  in  this  place,  embracing  2  Elephants, 
Camels,  Lions,  Tigers,  Bears,  Panthers,  Wolves, 
I  Rhinocerous,  weighing  upwards  of  5000  pounds. 
The  Menagerie  and  Aviary  occupies  36  spacious 
Carriages,  Waggons  &c.,  and  are  drawn  by  112 
splendid  gray  horses — ^and  60  men  (including 
14  musicians)  are  required  to  complete  its 
operations.'* 

A  modern  building  of  interest  in  Plainfield 
is  the  Job  Male  Library.  Its  scrapbook  records 
of  local  history  are  entertaining  and  of  value. 
It  possesses  a  fine  collection  of  Japanese 
porcelains  and  cloisonn6  made  by  F.  X. 
Schoonmaker. 

Continuing  in  the  direction  of  the  old  stage, 
you  turn  toward  Bound  Brook.  On  the  way 
thither  there  is  a  fine  side  trip  for  the  pedestrian 
or  motorist  to  Washington  Rock.  The  distance 
of  the  rock  from  the  nearest  trolley  point  is 
about  two  miles,  across  the  valley  and  up  the 


1 82  Westward 

mountain  side  toward  your  right.  Another  side 
trip  from  the  town  of  Plainfield  is  to  North 
Plainfield,  where  a  provincial  hotel  of  old  pattern 
stands,  known  as  "Washington's  Headquarters/^ 
It  has  the  upper  and  lower  verandas  and  sloping 
roof  with  two  end  chimneys  of  old  design.  Wash- 
ington is  said  to  have  stayed  here  during  some 
of  the  time  that  the  army  was  encamped  near 
Bound  Brook. 

To  reach  the  rock,  you  must  approach  the 
mountains  from  Dunellen.  It  stands  solitary 
on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and  has  come  to  be  a 
popular  spot  for  picnickers,  offering  a  magni- 
ficent view  and  many  woodsy  rambles  near  by. 

Historically,  it  is  one  of  the  most  important 
points  hereabouts,  and  the  trip  lies  over  attrac- 
tive country  roads,  gradually  mounting  to 
wooded  slopes,  achieving  at  last  the  wonderful 
summit,  the  superb  outlook  from  which  our 
great  General  watched  so  often  the  movements  of 
the  enemy  during  the  hard  period  of  early  1777. 
From  the  twenty-eighth  of  May  in  that  year 
until  the  middle  or  end  of  June,  Washington, 
retired  to  this  rock  day  after  day,  watching, 
sweeping  with  his  powerful  telescope  all  the  re- 
gion for  a  circuit  of  sixty  miles.  The  elevation 
of  this  remarkable  rock  is  about  four  hundred 
feet  above  sea  level;  in  itself  it  is  twenty-five 
feet  high,  and  its  curious  projection  makes  it 
a  most  unique  lookout  point.      To  the  left,  on  a 


"WasHin^ton  near  Plainfield  183 

clear  day,  the  view  reaches  as  far  as  the  New 
York  City  skyscrapers  and  the  bay;  includes 
the  towns  of  Rahway,  Elizabeth,  Newark,  and 
New  Brighton.  To  the  right.  New  Brunswick  is 
seen,  and  the  heights  of  Trenton  and  Princeton. 
Fronting  one  are  the  bays  of  Amboy  and  Raritan. 
The  heights  of  far-off  Navesink  and  the  plains 
of  Monmouth  intervening  lie  to  the  southeast. 
This  is  the  panorama  which  lay,  map-like  and 
clear,  before  Washington. 

Many  a  gloomy  hour  did  the  General  pass  upon 
this  height  as  he  scanned  the  war's  prospect. 
He  had  broken  the  winter  camp  at  Morristown 
after  the  frightful  months  of  terrific  hardships 
and  cold,  and  had  moved  it  to  this  vicinity.  The 
victories  at  Trenton  and  at  Princeton  had  not  been 
sufficient  to  put  new  heart  into  the  Americans, 
for  the  depression  caused  by  Stirling's  defeat  on 
Long  Island,  by  the  conquests  of  Fort  Washing- 
ton and  Fort  Lee,  by  the  retreat  of  Washington 
across  New  Jersey,  could  not  yet  be  overcome 
in  spirit.  Washington  knew  now,  as  summer 
approached,  that  the  possession  of  Philadelphia 
was  Howe's  fixed  purpose,  and  there  must  have 
been  many  a  day  when  he  feared  the  outcome 
in  spite  of  his  resolute  efforts.  From  the  rock 
he  looked  over  upon  the  British  camp  at  New 
Brunswick  and  faced  facts — not  encouraging 
facts.  On  the  night  of  June  13th  Howe  led  his 
troops  from  this  camp  toward  Somerville,  mean- 


1 84  Westijvard 

ing  to  cross  the  Delaware  and  proceed  to  Phila- 
delphia. Perhaps  his  ultimate  downfall  was 
due  to  the  vision,  both  physical  and  mental, 
which  this  solitary,  withdrawn  lookout  spot 
afforded  the  American  leader. 

Almost  a  half  century  ago  a  montiment  was 
placed  upon  this  rock,  and  in  191 2  a  new  one  was 
erected — ^from  a  central  cairn  of  rough  stone 
a  flagstaff  rises,  a  gilded  eagle  surmounting 
the  staff. 

Turning  back  to  the  Bound  Brook  road,  you 
will  enter  Main  Street  of  that  town  and  come 
upon  its  battle  monument  in  the  middle  of  the 
street.  "This  stone  marks  the  site  of  the 
Battle  of  Bound  Brook  fought  April  13,  1777, 
between  500  American  soldiers  under  General 
Benjamin  Lincoln  and  4000  British  troops  under 
Lord  Comwallis, ''  is  the  inscription.  That  in 
brief  tells  the  story  of  a  sharp  skirmish  which 
gave  this  village  a  position  of  some  importance 
in  Revolutionary  history. 

Lincoln,  whose  quarters  were  at  the  other 
end  of  the  village  in  the  only  two-story  house  it 
possessed,  was  stationed  here  on  the  Raritan 
River  with  an  extent  of  five  or  six  miles  to  guard 
and  a  force  of  even  less  than  five  hundred  men 
fit  for  duty.  On  the  thirteenth  of  April,  owing 
to  the  negligence  of  his  patrol,  ran  his  statement, 
he  was  surprised  by  a  large  party  of  the  enemy 
under  Cornwallis  and  Grant,  who  came  upon 


TKe  La  Tourette  House  185 

him  so  suddenly  that  the  General  and  one  of  his 
aides  had  barely  time  to  get  on  horseback;  the 
other  side  was  taken,  as  were  also  a  few  pieces  of 
artillery.  Lincoln  was  obliged  to  retreat  after  a 
struggle;  terrified  by  the  overwhelming  British 
force,  every  inhabitant  of  Bound  Brook  took  to 
his  heels  *and  fled  to  the  mountains.  One  dead 
soldier  remained,  a  poor  chap  who  had  been  shot 
down  in  the  blockhouse;  he  was  the  only  Ameri- 
can left  in  the  village. 

This  town  has  for  long  years  boasted  of  many 
fine  old  houses,  dwellings  of  the  Revolutionary 
period  and  earlier;  but  of  late  they  have  been 
melting  away  to  make  room  for  modern  residence 
and  business  btdldings.  However,  one  of  the 
most  interesting  of  all  still  stands  in  excellent 
preservation — ^the  ''La  Tourette  House''  it  is 
familiarly  called.  Leaving  the  monument  and 
turning  toward  the  river,  you  can  cross  the  bridge 
to  South  Bound  Brook;  where  streets  fork  at  this 
point,  choose  the  left,  follow  it  for  almost  a  mile, 
and  you  will  suddenly  come  within  sight  of  a 
fine  old  farmhouse  with  spreading  lawn,  smother- 
ing vines,  and  sloping  roof,  its  walls  painted  a 
deep  cream  color.  It  looks  substantial  enough 
for  the  wear-and-tear  of  many  years  to  come, 
and  it  was  erected  by  Abraham  Staats  in 
pre-Revolutionary  days. 

The  old  hand-made  shingles  still  sturdily  pro- 
tect the  firm  walls,  and  within  are  preserved 


i86  Westward 

many  pieces  of  old  ftirniture  and  other  relics 
of  the  seventeen-hundreds.  This  is  the  house 
in  which  Baron  Steuben  had  his  winter  quar- 
ters in  1778  and  1779.  Here  he  debated  many 
a  vital  matter  of  generalship,  conferred  with 
other  officers,  gave  orders,  and  accomplished 
vast  and  important  work.  Here  could  be  seen 
his  diamond-set  medal  of  gold,  a  gift  from  his 
Prussian  king,  Frederick  the  Great,  designating 
the  order  of  ''Fidelity." 

The  serious  side  of  life  and  war  was  only  one 
phase  of  this  house's  spirit  during  those  months. 
Baron  Steuben  entertained  frequently  and  de- 
lightfully, and  the  most  distinguished  Ameri- 
cans, including  General  and  Mrs.  Washington, 
were  his  guests.  Just  before  the  encampment  of 
Middlebrook  was  broken  up  in  June  of  1779,  the 
Baron  wound  up  festivities  by  a  magnificent 
entertainment  to  the  American  officers,  for  which 
tables  were  spread  in  the  grove  surrounding 
the  house,  and  great  was  the  revelry  in  what 
is  now  the  retired  and  quiet  La  Tourette 
dwelling. 

I  At  the  far  end  of  Bound  Brook  lies  the  camp 
ground  of  Washington.  It  is  this  town's  proud- 
est historic  feature;  it  has  been  marked  by  a 
flag  and  mounted  cannon,  and  here  the  towns- 
people assemble  on  every  safe-and-sane  Fourth 
of  July  for  their  patriotic  orations  combined 
with  lemonade  and  crackerjack.     Even  beneath 


The  Monument  and  Tablet  on   Washington's  Rock,  Plain  field. 
Photograph   by   Collier. 


The  Quaker  Church  in  Plainfield,  Built  in  1788. 


The  Washington  Headquarters,  Morristown. 


The  Wick  House  on  the  Old  Jockey  Hollow  Road,  Morristown. 
By  permission  of  Rev.  Andrew  M.  Sherman. 


Toi^ard  tHe  Camp  Groiincl  187 

the  thoughts  of  lemonade  there  is  doubtless  plenty 
of  good  sound  American  patriotism  throbbing. 

By  following  Main  Street  to  Mountain  Ave- 
nue, then  turning  into  this  cross  street,  you  will 
be  led  directly  toward  the  mountains,  arriving 
at  the  spot  which  Washington  chose  for  his 
camp — one  of  the  finest  hill-brows  in  all  this 
region,  and  a  stifif  climb  from  the  foot. 

On  the  way  out  Moimtain  Avenue  one  passes 
the  public  library;  just  beyond  it  is  a  cemetery 
old  enough  to  be  worth  a  glance  from  the  land- 
mark lover.  Even  on  stones  not  more  than 
a  half -century  old  there  are  some  quaint  in- 
scriptions, such  as. 

Dear  mother  is  gone,  from  sorrow  free, 
Her  face  on  earth  no  more  we*ll  see. 
With  angels  above  she  dwells  on  high; 
We  hope  to  meet  her  when  called  to  die. 

This  part  of  New  Jersey  has  older  epitaphs 
than  this.  Not  many  miles  away  in  a  Dunellen 
cemetery  is  the  stone  of  Luke  Covert,  who  died 
in  1828  in  the  ninety-fourth  year  of  his  age. 
There  is  certainly  a  note  of  triumph  in  its 
inscription,  and  a  triumph  rather  of  this  world 
than  of  another: 

Come  look  upon  my  grave, 

All  you  that  pass  by; 
Where  one  doth  live  to  such  an  age 

Thousands  do  younger  die. 


1 88  Westward 

To  return  to  Mountain  Avenue.  It  leads 
past  the  links  and  grounds  of  a  country  club, 
past  half-rural  homes,  decidedly  rural  homes, 
and  then,  of  a  sudden,  the  road  begins  to  ascend 
sharply  and  you  seem  to  be  led  back  into  moun- 
tain fastnesses.  There  is  at  last  a  decisive  turn 
in  the  road;  a  stony  branch  starts  toward  the 
left,  directly  along  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and  by 
following  this  for  perhaps  a  quarter-mile  you 
emerge  at  last  into  the  open,  and  find  below  you  a 
marvelous  panorama  of  plain,  towns,  buildings, 
woods — ^this  is  the  old  camp  ground. 

It  is  recognized  by  its  mounted  cannon  and 
the  flag  flying  above  them.  Here,  as  at  Plain- 
field,  Washington  surveyed  the  scene  below  and 
simimed  up  the  situation.  Chimney  Rock  is 
another  point  from  which  a  remarkable  out- 
look can  be  had  to-day  as  in  the  days  of  the 
Revolution. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

BY  THE  OLD  TURNPIKE  TO   MORRISTOWN 

A  PILGRIMAGE  out  through  the  Springfield 
^^  region,  made  famous  by  its  ''Fighting 
Parson'*  of  long  ago — on  through  the  hilly  and 
open  country  of  New  Jersey,  where  travelers 
of  old  climbed  for  refreshment  to  Bottle  Hill — 
leads  you  at  last  to  historic  Morristown,  which 
teems  with  Revolutionary  tradition,  even  to 
possessing  the  coat  and  hat  in  which  George 
Washington  was  inaugurated. 

Such  a  pilgrimage  carries  you  over  two 
important  old  turnpikes,  at  least  approximately. 
From  Newark,  the  Springfield  Turnpike  led  a 
little  south  of  west;  at  Springfield  started  the 
Morris  Turnpike,  leading  on  northwest,  and 
penetrating  the  hilly  country  until  it  reached 
Morristown.  This  latter  road  passed  through 
the  Short  Hills,  crossed  the  county  line  from 
Essex  into  Morris  County,  and  provided  travel- 
ers with  way-stations  at  Chatham  and  Bottle  Hill. 

You  will  recognize  Springfield  by  its  church- 
tower  clock,  which  rises  slim  and  white  in  the 

189 


IQO  Westiward 

midst  of  the  town.  Follow  that  tower  to  its 
base,  and  you  come  to  a  little  old  white  chtirch, 
and  near  it  the  weather-beaten  stones  of  an  old- 
time  bnrying-ground.  In  that  chiirchyard  is  a 
modern  monument  commemorating  the  great 
evejit  in  Springfield's  history. 

"The  first  British  advance,"  states  the  in- 
scription, '^'was  stayed  at  the  bridge  east  of 
the  village  June  7,  1780.  The  Battle  of  Spring- 
field was  fought  June  23rd.  The  Americans 
under  General  Greene  on  that  day,  near  the 
stream  west  of  the  Church,  checked  the  enemy, 
who  in  their  retreat  burned  the  Church  and 
village.  From  this  Church  Parson  Caldwell  took 
psalm-books  during  the  fight  and  flung  them  to 
the  Americans  for  wadding,  crying,  'Put  Watts 
into  'em,  boys!''' 

This  is  the  story  in  a  nutshell.  Previous  to 
the  battle,  Washington  had  moved  his  camp  to 
Rockaway  Bridge,  his  suspicions  having  been 
aroused  by  the  movement  of  some  British 
troops  up  the  Hudson  River.  Acting  upon  the 
idea  that  the  enemy  had  certain  subterfuge  in 
mind,  he  made  the  move  on  June  22d,  and  gave 
the  post  at  Short  Hills  into  the  charge  of  Major- 
General  Greene.  The  following  day,  early  in 
the  morning,  two  divisions  under  Knyphausen 
arrived  at  Springfield  from  Elizabethtown. 
They  amoimted  to  about  six  thousand  infantry, 
cavalry,  and  artillery. 


Battle  of  Springfield  191 

The  right  colvimn  of  the  British  aimed  to 
drive  Major  Lee's  dragoons  from  one  of  the 
bridges  which  crossed  the  Passaic,  but  it  must 
first  ford  the  stream.  Dayton's  regiment  was  so 
bravely  resisting  the  left,  that  Knyphausen  was 
almost  unable  to  force  his  way  forward;  only 
his  great  superiority  in  numbers  made  this  pos- 
sible. His  troops  were  drawn  up,  and  had 
begun  a  heavy  cannonade,  but,  although  Greene 
was  ready  to  fight,  Knyphausen,  for  some  rea- 
son, did  not  enter  into  an  engagement.  The 
British,  at  Springfield,  made  a  stand  of  several 
hours,  after  which  they  fell  upon  the  town, 
plundering  the  inhabitants,  burning,  tmtil  it  was 
only  a  heap  of  ashes,  and  finally  retreating  to 
Elizabethtown  Point. 

The  conflict  would  be  counted  of  less  import- 
ance in  American  annals  had  it  not  been  for 
the  heroism  of  Parson  Caldwell.  He  was  pastor 
of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  a  man  well-known 
throughout  this  part  of  the  State,  having  studied 
for  the  ministry  at  Princeton  College  in  Newark, 
when  Burr  was  its  president;  and  having  held 
the  pastorate  of  the  First  Church  in  Elizabeth- 
town. 

He  was  innately  a  patriot,  with  an  inherited 
instinct  of  revolt  against  tyranny.  His  ancestors 
had  been  French  Huguenots  who  had  fled  to 
Scotland  after  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantes;  again  they  had  fled  from  persecution, 


192  Westward 

this  time  of  Claverhouse,  seeking  a  home  in 
Ireland.  Caldwell's  parents  came  to  this  coun- 
try from  Ireland,  and  he  was  born  in  Virginia, 
in  1734. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution  James 
Caldwell  showed  ardent  patriotism,  and  came 
to  be  known  as  an  active  patriot.  "There are 
times  when  it  is  righteous  to  fight  as  well  as  to 
pray, ''  was  part  of  his  creed.  His  church  follow- 
ers sustained  him  in  his  Revolutionary  spirit,  and 
were  in  sympathy  with  him  when  he  became, 
in  June,  1776,  Chaplain  of  the  Jersey  Brigade 
under  Colonel  Dayton.  From  this  time  on 
his  efforts  in  behalf  of  patriotism  increased. 
When  the  army  camped  at  Morristown  he  tised 
to  work  at  getting  provisions  for  the  half -starved 
troops,  and  his  great  popularity  made  it  possible 
for  him  to  collect  large  supplies  of  stores  from 
all  over  the  region — ^which  stores  he  distributed 
himself. 

He  became  deputy  quartermaster-general, 
with  an  office  at  Chatham.  Over  his  office 
door  appeared  the  letters  "D.Q.M.G.''  and  the 
story  is  told  by  Shaw  that  Caldwell's  friend 
Abraham  Clark,  puzzling  over  the  initials, 
finally  said:  ''I  don't  know  what  the  letters 
mean,  but  I  think  they  must  indicate  that 
you're  a  Devilish  Queer  Minister  of  the  Gospel." 

His  ''queerness"  was  the  sort  that  made  him 
beloved,  even  though  it  took  such  forms  as 


Parson  Caldweir®  Story  193 

preaching  with  a  pair  of  pistols  on  the  dissk 
beside  the  Bible- — ^for  there  was  often  danger  of 
a  raid,  and  the  ''Fighting  Parson''  did  not  mean 
to  be  surprised.  The  soldiers  were  devoted  to 
him — one  day  he  would  be  distributing  stores 
among  them,  the  next,  preaching  the  sort  of 
sermon  that  put  new  courage  into  their  very 
weary  souls. 

It  was  the  week  before  the  Battle  of  Spring- 
field that  all  his  fire  had  been  roused  to  the  ut- 
most by  the  brutal  killing  of  his  wife  Hannah, 
who  was  shot  down  in  her  home  by  a  redcoat 
while  the  Parson  was  away.  Armed  with  all  the 
sense  of  outrage  which  such  an  act  inspired, 
he  entered  the  battle  a  few  days  later,  and  Bret 
Harte  has  told  his  story  in  the  poem  Caldwell  of 
Springfield. 

.  .  .  Stay  one  moment;  you* ve  heard 
Of  Caldwell,  the  parson,  who  once  preached  the  word 
Down  at  Springfield?    What,  no?    Come — that's  bad; 

why  he  had 
All  the  Jerseys  aflame!    And  they  gave  him  the  name 
Of  the  "rebel  high  priest."     He  stuck  in  their  gorge. 
For  he  loved  the  Lord  God — and  he  hated  King  George! 

He  had  cause,  you  might  say!    When  the  Hessians 

that  day 
Marched  up  with  Knyphausen,  they  stopped  on  their 

way 
At  the  ''farms, "  where  his  wife,  with  a  child  in  her  arms, 
Sat  alone  in  the  house.    How  it  happened  none  knew 
13 


194  "Westward 

But  God — and  that  one  of  the  hireling  crew 
Who  fired  the  shot!    Enough! — there  she  lay, 
And  Caldwell,  the  chaplain,  her  husband,  away! 

Did  he  preach — did  he  pray?    Think  of  him  as  you 

stand 
By  the  old  church  to-day, — think  of  him  and  his  band 
Of  militant  ploughboys!    See  the  smoke  and  the  heat 
Of  that  reckless  advance,  of  that  straggling  retreat! 
Keep  the  ghost  of  that  wife,  fotdly  slain,  in  your  view — 
And  what  could  you,  what  should  you,  what  would  you 

do? 

Why,  just  what  he  did!    They  were  left  in  the  lurch 
For  the  want  of  more  wadding.     He  ran  to  the  church. 
Broke  the  door,  stripped  the  pews,  and  dashed  out  in 

the  road 
With  his  arms  full  of  hymn-books,  and  threw  down  his 

load 
At  their  feet!     Then  above  all  the  shouting  and  shots 
Rang  his  voice:  **Put  Watts  into  *em!    Boys,  give  'em 

Watts!" 

And  they  did.    That  is  all.    Grasses  spring,  flowers 

blow. 
Pretty  much  as  they  did  ninety-three  years  ago. 
You  may  dig  anywhere  and  you'll  turn  up  a  ball— 
But  not  always  a  hero  like  this — and  that's  all. 

Following  in  the  direction  of  the  old  Morris 
Tiirnpike,  you  soon  pass  beyond  Essex  County 
and  approach  Chatham,  one  of  the  places  noted 
on  the  maps  of  a  century  ago.  This  village  was 
settled  by  early  New  Englanders,  and  offered 
good  opportunities  by  virtue  of  the  iron  ore 


Bottle  Hill  195 

found  hereabouts.  In  fact  the  region  came  to 
be  known  as  ''The  Old  Forges/' 

It  was  customary  to  carry  leather  bags  of  the 
ore  on  the  backs  of  horses,  bring  them  here  from 
the  mines,  and,  after  the  ore  was  manufactured 
into  iron,  the  bars  were  put  once  more,  in  their 
new  form,  into  leather  bags,  and  carried  in  the 
same  manner  to  Elizabethtown  and  Newark, 
where  they  were  loaded  on  to  boats  and  shipped 
to  New  York.  This  business  became  so  thriv- 
ing that  it  led  to  the  opening  of  new  roads. 

Farther  on,  where  the  pretty  town  of  Madison 
stands  on  an  elevation,  one  would  never  sus- 
pect that  beneath  its  name  such  an  appellation 
as  ''Bottle  Hiir*  is  hidden  away.  Yet  Bottle 
Hill  the  town  was  for  many  a  year. 

This  came  of  the  fact  that  the  keeper  of  an 
early  inn,  instead  of  having  an  elaborate  sign- 
board painted  to  indicate  his  line  of  business, 
merely  swung  a  bottle  to  a  post  in  front  of  his 
establishment,,  trusting  to  the  public  to  supply 
the  statement.  Some  say  that  this  inn-keeper 
was  an  Indian,  accustomed  to  sign  language — ^at 
any  rate,  his  history  seems  to  be  blurred  by 
time.  But  there  is  no  doubt  that  such  a  sign 
did  hang  from  such  a  post,  and  its  unique 
simplicity  naturally  clung  to  the  memory  of 
travelers,  who  gave  the  village  its  name. 

As  the  place  developed,  a  French  element 
grew  there,  tracing  its  ancestry  back  to  Vincent 


196  Westward 

Boisaubin,  who  had  been  an  officer  in  the  body- 
guard of  Lotiis  XVI.  He  preferred  America  to 
France  for  a  home,  and  so  cultured  a  gentleman, 
so  public-spirited  a  citizen  was  he,  that  he  was 
welcomed  in  Bottle  Hill.  It  is  claimed  that 
his.  act  was  the  origin  of  the  familiar  story,  told 
often  with  countless  variations — ^the  story  of  the 
poor  citizen  who  had  lost  his  cow.  '*  What  can 
we  do  to  help  him? ''  someone  asked,  and  Boisau- 
bin reached  into  his  generous  pocket  with  the 
observation,  ''I  am  sorry  for  that  man  five 
dollars." 

This  is  the  town  in  which  General  Wayne  made 
his  headquarters  during  the  American  army's 
first  encampment  at  Morristown.  Deacon 
Ephraim  Sayre's  house  was  the  one  used  by 
Wayne  as  headquarters,  and  one  of  the  recol- 
lections passed  down  from  that  day  is  of  the  little 
mulatto  whom  Wayne  kept  as  servant,  and  who 
always  carried  about  a  wooden  sword  with  its 
edges  sharpened,  so  much  was  he  imbued  with 
the  martial  spirit. 

As  you  enter  Morristown  by  the  road  from 
Springfield,  you  are  almost  immediately  con- 
fronted by  the  most  famous  of  all  its  historic 
btiildings.  This  is  the  Washington  headquarters, 
a  treasure-house  containing  relics  of  such  value 
that  it  ranks  with  the  small  group  of  such  build- 
ings which  are  of  national,  rather  than  local, 
importance.    It  is  somewhat  amusing  to  observe 


Troops  in  Lo|(  Huts  197 

the  rivalry  that  exists  among  the  guardians 
of  these  treasure-houses.  "No,  we  have  no 
old  fireplace  oven/'  apologetically  admitted  the 
little  lady  who  showed  us  about,  ''I'm  sorry. 
They  have  one  at  Mt.  Vernon.  But,"  brighten- 
ing, "weVe  got  Washington's  inauguration  suit 
upstairs!" 

This  building  was  the  home  of  Col.  Jacob  Ford 
in  1779,  when  it  was  turned  over  to  Washington 
for  his  headquarters.  The  New  Jersey  Gazette 
of  that  year  printed  this  news  item: 

"We  understand  that  the  headquarters  of  the 
American  Army  is  established  at  Morris-Town 
in  the  Vicinity  of  which  the  troops  are  now 
hutting." 

The  main  body  of  the  army  went  into  quar- 
ters here  for  the  winter  of  1 779-80,  at  first  in  tents, 
later  in  log  huts,  as  the  weather  grew  almost 
unbearable.  They  were  about  two  miles  from 
headquarters;  the  life-guard  were  in  log  huts 
only  a  few  rods  southeast  of  the  Ford  house. 
This  residence  has  been  carefully  preserved  and 
left  tmchanged;  the  house  and  the  surrounding 
large  groimds  are  the  same  that  they  were  when 
Martha  Washington  looked  forth  from  the  win- 
dows upon  the  bleak  winter  landscape. 

To  the  left  of  the  front  door  is  the  dining-room 
used  by  Washington.  Two  log  additions  made 
for  him  served  as  kitchen  and  offices.  To-day 
you  are  shown  the  desk  and  table  where  he  wrote, 


198  "West-ward 

the  table  used  by  Hamilton,  the  old  kitchen  oven 
and  spinning-wheel,  and  a  host  of  old  pieces 
of  furnittire  brought  from  interesting  sources. 
There  are  sidelights  on  early  American  house- 
keeping thrown  by  some  of  these  relics,  one 
being  the  flour  barrel  scooped  out  of  a  tree-trunk. 

Mrs.  Thompson  was  that  keen  Irish  house- 
keeper who,  during  a  dearth  of  provisions  here, 
coaxed  the  General  to  let  her  be  given  an  order 
for  six  bushels  of  salt.  As  it  was  worth  eight 
dollars  a  bushel,  the  farmers  around  were 
delighted  to  exchange  their  fresh  beef  for  it, 
and  Mrs,  Thompson  surprised  her  chief  with  a 
banquet. 

Washington's  dishes,  brought  over  from 
Philadelphia,  are  on  display.  In  the  case  where 
the  inauguration  suit  is  preserved,  modestly 
abiding  in  the  shadow  of  her  great  husband's 
garments,  cuddle  the  blue  satin  and  the  white 
satin  slippers  worn  by  Mrs.  Washington.  The 
most  valuable  paper  contained  in  the  cabinet 
of  documents  is  the  great  General's  commission 
as  Commander  of  the  Army.  From  nine  to 
five  o'clock  the  house  is  open  to  the  public 
except  on  Sunday. 

Continuing  on  along  the  road  toward  the 
center  of  town,  you  should  turn  in  first  at  Oli- 
phant  Lane  which  lies  at  your  right  just  before 
you  cross  the  railroad.  Here,  the  first  house 
on  your  right,  stands  a  modest  little  residence 


The  Springfield  Church,  Made  Famous  by  the 
*'  Fighting  Parson.''^ 


The  Old  Arnold  Tavern  where  ''Arnold's  Light-Horse  Troop''  Gathered,  Morristown, 


The  Old  Dutch  Church  of  Passaic, 


The  Van  Wagoner  Homestead,  Passaic. 


Hamilton  and  "Miss  Betty"  199 

which  once  sheltered  one  of  the  romances*  of 
American  history.  It  used  to  be  known  as  Dr. 
John  Cochran's  quarters;  Dr.  Cochran  was 
surgeon-general  of  the  American  army,  and  his 
wife,  the  sister  of  General  Philip  Schuyler, 
entertained  Schuyler's  daughter  Elizabeth  in 
this  dwelling  during  the  army's  winter  at 
Morristown. 

It  so  happened  that  Alexander  Hamilton, 
being  one  of  Washington's  aides,  was  stopping 
at  the  Ford  mansion;  and  he  found  it  extremely 
convenient  to  drop  in  frequently  around  the 
corner  of  this  lane  to  the  house  where  Miss 
Betty  was  visiting. 

On  one  occasion  Colonel  Hamilton  left  the 
house  so  much  preoccupied  with  thoughts  of 
Betty,  that  when  the  sentinel  propounded  to 
him  the  question,  ''Who  comes  there?"  he  was 
at  a  loss  for  the  password.  The  sentinel  re- 
cognized his  superior,  but  he  held  to  his  duty 
and  refused  to  let  the  Colonel  pass. 

Hamilton  was  in  despair,  when  at  last  he 
caught  sight  of  young  Ford  through  the  darkness ; 
calling  the  boy,  to  whom  he  himself  had  given 
the  countersign,  he  asked  for  it  and  received  it. 
But  even  then  it  was  with  reluctance  that  the 
sentinel  stretched  a  rule  and  let  the  officer  pass. 

The  subsequent  romance  and  marriage  of 
Alexander  Hamilton  and  Betty  Schuyler  are 
familiarly  known. 


200  Westward 

Stai  continuing  along  the  same  road,  you 
will  come  to  the  Memorial  Hospital,  which  will 
be  your  guide  in  locating  an  old  and  dilapidated 
dwelling  directly  opposite,  and  back  from  the 
street.  It  used  to  stand  on  the  site  of  the 
present  hospital.  In  Revolutionary  days  it 
was  the  home  of  Parson  Timothy  Johnes,  that 
old  Presbyterian  minister  who  came  on  horse- 
back to  Morristown  in  1743,  brought  his  wife 
and  two  children,  and  was  given  a  home  by  his 
parishioners,  who  cut  the  wood  themselves  for 
this  residence,  planted  and  gathered  the  pas- 
tor's crops  for  him,  and  furnished  the  house 
by  their  sewing  bees.  Parson  Johnes  welcomed 
Washington  to  his  communion  table,  although 
the  General  was  an  Episcopalian. 

"Ours  is  not  the  Presbyterians'  table.  General, 
it  is  the  Lord's,'*  he  said. 

The  part  of  Morristown  first  settled  is  in  the 
vicinity  of  Spring  and  Water  streets.  At  this 
corner  you  will  to-day  find  Dickerson's  Tavern, 
known  to  the  neighborhood  as  "the  old  yellow 
house."  Its  original  form  is  more  or  less 
altered,  but  the  main  part  of  the  house  remains, 
on  the  original  site,  and  stories  of  the  past  hover 
about  it. 

Here  the  meeting  of  May  i,  1775,  was  held  by 
the  men  of  Morris  County,  for  the  defense  of 
that  county  against  possible  invasion.  Here 
it  was  ordered  that  three  hundred  volunteers 


Captain  DicKerson's  Tavern         201 

be  recrtiited,  that  five  hundred  pounds  of  pow- 
der be  bought,  and  one  ton  of  lead.  Peaceful 
Morristown  was  to  be  peaceful  no  longer. 

Captain  Peter  Dickerson,  one  of  the  early 
Long  Island  captains,  was  largely  instrumental 
in  all  these  moves.  He  made  his  tavern  head- 
quarters for  discussions  of  this  kind.  He  bore 
personally  the  entire  expense  of  the  company 
commanded  by  him,  and  the  sum  thus  expended 
was  never  repaid;  it  now  stands  to  his  credit 
in  the  nation's  capital. 

Reaching  the  Green,  you  are  in  the  heart  of 
historic  Morristown.  Quartermaster-General 
Greene's  headquarters  used  to  stand  on  the 
corner  of  Morris  and  South  streets,  on  the  site 
of  a  present  drugstore.  The  burying-place  of 
many  soldiers  was  near  by.  The  early  Presby- 
terian Church  stood  where  the  present  one  stands, 
and  was  used  as  a  hospital  for  soldiers  in  1777. 
The  bell  of  this  church  was  presented  to  Morris- 
town by  the  King  of  Great  Britain  and  was 
stamped  with  the  impress  of  the  British  Crown. 

A  short  walk  out  Mt.  Kemble  Avenue  brings 
you  to  some  old  buildings.  On  the  right,  the 
white  house  with  immense  grounds  sloping  up 
behind  it,  is  the  one-time  General  Doughty 
house.  Handsome  as  it  is,  judged  by  present 
standards,  one  can  realize  that  in  a  less 
ambitious  period  this  was  a  veritable  palace. 

Gen.  John  Doughty  was  a  graduate  of  King's 


202  "West-ward 

College,  now  Colvimbia  University,  in  the  class 
of  1770.  He  entered  the  army  at  the  opening 
of  the  Revolution  and  was  fast  promoted.  When 
peace  was  declared  at  last,  he  was  sent  west  to 
establish  forts  on  the  Ohio  River  and  at  even 
more  wildly  western  points;  this  experience  led 
to  spicier  adventtires  than  he  had  seen  in  the 
Revolution. 

At  one  time,  when  going  down  the  Tennessee 
River  in  a  barge  with  sixteen  soldiers,  he  was 
attacked  by  a  large  number  of  Indians  in  canoes; 
it  was  not  until  his  aim  felled  the  savage  old  chief 
that  the  battle  was  brought  to  a  happy  ending. 
After  a  long  period  of  such  hairbreadth  escapes, 
he  was  content  to  settle  down  on  his  four  hun- 
dred acres  in  Morristown  and  devote  the  remain- 
ing portion  of  his  life  to  ''agricultural  pursuits, 
the  cultivation  of  literature,  and  the  exercise 
of  a  generous  and  elegant  hospitality." 

A  few  blocks  beyond  stands  All  Souls'  Hos- 
pital. This  building  has  been  remodeled  to 
suit  its  present  needs;  old  times  knew  it  as 
*'the  Arnold  Tavern."  It  used  to  stand  on  the 
site  of  the  present  Hoffman  building. 

In  January,  1777,  Washington  arrived  in 
town,  and  went  directly  to  this  tavern,  where 
he  made  his  headquarters.  During  the  winter 
it  is  said  that  he  was  attacked  by  quinsy,  and 
that  his  wife  came  here  to  care  for  him. 

When  the  building  was  removed  to  this  site, 


Fort  Nonsense  203 

a  strange  old  spear  was  found  in  its  cellar — a 
five-foot  pike,  such  as  the  English  heavy-armed 
troops  once  bore.  This  was  no  doubt  a  relic 
left  by  Col.  Jacob  Arnold's  Light-Horse  Troop, 
who  were  armed  each  with  this  kind  of  spear. 
The  tavern  was  built  by  Arnold's  father,  and 
afterwards  passed  into  the  hands  of  his  son. 

Fort  Nonsense  lies  not  far  from  the  center 
of  town.  By  following  Court  Street  you  will 
reach  the  hill  at  the  top  of  which  that  fantastic 
fort  was  built — a  fort  never  to  be  used,  intended 
merely  to  keep  idle  troops  out  of  mischief  dur- 
ing the  long  winter  of  1779-80.  The  view  of 
the  hills  and  valleys  around  is  worth  the  climb, 
and  a  monument  marking  the  site  of  the  non- 
sensical old  fort  is  at  the  summit  besides.  Here 
embankments,  ditches,  and  blockhouses  were 
made  by  busy  soldiers;  this  was  a  characteristi- 
cally shrewd  move  on  Washington's  part  to  avoid 
the  perils  of  idleness  among  his  men. 

By  starting  out  on  Western  Avenue  and  going 
about  four  miles,  you'  enter  the  historic  associ- 
ations which  lie  along  the  old  Jockey  Hollow 
Road.  One  of  the  old  soldiers'  bake-ovens  used 
to  be  visible  on  this  road,  and  there  were  other 
similar  ovens  near  it.  Even  to-day  there  are 
spots  where  a  few  stones  mark  the  locality  of 
camps. 

It  was  down  the  Jockey  Hollow  Road  that 
trouble  during  the  mutiny  of  the  Pennsylvania 


204  Westward 

troops  occurred,  which  Lossing  calls  ''the  only 
serious  and  decided  mutiny  in  the  American 
army  during  the  Revolution.''  New  Year's 
Day  of  1 78 1  saw  the  beginning  of  it.  The 
mutineers  had  suffered  every  hardship  and 
privation,  and  the  war  was  dragging  slowly 
and  hopelessly.  The  men  were  paid  little  or  no 
money,  promises  of  Congress  were  not  always 
fulfilled,  and  riot  began  at  last. 

'  One  incident  of  the  period  leading  to  mutiny 
is  associated  with  an  old  house  which  you  will 
find  now  standing,  beside  the  road.  It  is  the 
Wick  house.  Prom  this  building  were  brought 
several  of  the  old  pieces  of  furniture  now  dis- 
played in  the  Washington  headquarters. 

Here  lived  that  gallant  young  patriot,  Miss 
Tempe  Wick,  the  daughter  of  the  house.  During 
the  disorder  some  of  the  troops  down  this  road 
became  disgracefully  drunk,  and  set  out  to  make 
trouble.  They  rioted  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
house,  causing  especial  disturbance  to  Mrs.  Wick 
who  was  very  ill  at  the  time.  It  was  necessary 
to  call  the  doctor,  who  lived  a  mile  away;  no 
one  could  go  on  the  errand  save  Tempe,  so  she 
carried  her  sick  mother  to  the  cellar  for  safety 
and  set  out  on  her  favorite  horse  to  ride  for  the 
doctor. 

Returning,  she  was  confronted  by  a  group 
of  noisy  soldiers  who  ordered  her  to  dismount. 
But  instead  of  losing  her  nerve  and  giving  up 


Tempe  WicK  205 

to  them,  she  kept  to  her  horse,  held  her  head 
high,  and  galloped  away  down  the  road  where 
they  could  not  follow.  Returning  again,  she 
rode  her  horse  straight  into  the  house,  out  of 
danger,  through  the  kitchen,  and  shut  the  pet 
animal  into  the  spare  bedchamber,  where  he 
remained  a  captive  for  several  days  until  all 
danger  of  his  being  stolen  was  past,  and  the 
rioters  disappeared  from  the  neighborhood. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A   VOYAGE   UP   THE   PASSAIC 

'*  /y  ARS.  S.,  with  her  mother,  aunt,  two  brothers 
^  ^  *  and  sister,  took  passage  on  a  schooner  at 
New  York,  at  the  dock  near  Cortlandt  Street, 
for  Acquackanonk  Landing.  The  Captain  had 
several  other  passengers.  The  Captain  started 
at  10:45  A.M.,  expecting  to  run  up  in  half  a  day; 
but  the  wind  was  treacherous,  and  he  was  that 
day  and  night  and  the  next  day  and  part  of  the 
night  on  the  way,  having  been  a  half  day  aground 
in  the  mud.  Meanwhile  the  whole  party  got  out 
of  provisions,  and  the  last  day  there  was  noth- 
ing to  eat.  Mrs.  S.'s  sister,  about  twelve,  and 
her  two  brothers,  who  were  growing  children, 
suffered  until  the  passengers  broke  open  a  bar- 
rel of  flour  and  made  paste  pudding  and  flour 
cakes.  They  landed  finally  at  the  dock  at 
Acquackanonk  Landing  at  11  o'clock  on  a 
November  night,  when  the  tide  was  so  high 
that  they  had  to  wade  a  distance  through  the 
water  over  their  shoes,  having  left  their  goods 
on  the  schooner;  and  as  there  were  no  vacant 

206 


Passengers  and  Flo\ir  Barrels        207 

accommodations  at  the  landing  place,  and  being 
told  that  it  was  only  a  'short  step'  to  Paterson, 
where  they  were  destined,  the  entire  party, 
hungry,  wet  and  miserable,  followed  the  road  up 
through  the  fog  and  rain,  the  night  being  also 
very  dark.  They  had  been  seven  weeks  on  the 
ocean,  but  did  not  know  what  suffering  was  un- 
til they  made  their  inland  journey.  The  next 
day  their  goods  were  brought  on  a  wagon  from 
the  Landing.'' 

Thus  The  News  History  reprints  an  early  de- 
scription of  a  voyage  to  the  town  of  Passaic, 
then  known  as  Acquackanoiik  Landing.  Be- 
ing at  the  head  of  tidewater  on  the  Passaic 
River,  it  soon  grew  to  be  an  important  head- 
quarters for  water  travel,  in  the  days  when  we 
made  better  use  of  our  rivers  than  we  do  to-day. 
At  that  time,  sloops  and  schooners  of  goodly 
size  were  able  to  carry  commerce  up  the  stream, 
and,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  above  harrowing 
tale,  passengers  traveled  at  times  in  company 
with  the  flour  barrels.  In  fact  there  was  a 
considerable  amount  of  water  travel  by  early 
dwellers  in  New  Jersey;  they  came  to  Acquack- 
anonk  from  all  the  surrounding  country,  and 
there  took  boats  to  New  York. 

By  the  beginning  of  the  Eighteenth  Century, 
there  were  roads  from  all  directions  converging 
at  this  town,  and  passengers  for  Newark  and 
New  York  could  choose  between  a  boat  running 


2o8  Westward 

down  the  Passaic,  or  a  stagecoach.  Later  on, 
a  turnpike  connected  Acquackanonk  with  Pater- 
son  and  the  Great  Falls,  and  from  there  another, 
the  Hamburg  and  Paterson  Turnpike,  ran  north- 
west to  the  remoter  country,  toward  Pompton. 

The  motorist  of  the  Twentieth  Century  can 
start  from  Newark,  and  follow  avenues  and 
drives  along  the  shore  of  the  Passaic  River, 
tracing  fairly  well  the  direction  of  the  old  turn- 
pike, and  keeping  in  mind  that  time  when 
Acquackanonk  was  so  far  away  that  it  required 
paste  pudding  and  flour  cakes  to  sustain  nature 
on  the  journey. 

The  County  Bridge  crosses  the  river  and 
enters  the  town  near  where  Main  and  Gregory 
avenues  meet,  the  heart  of  the  original  town. 
Hereabouts  it  was  settled  by  early  Holland 
Dutch,  on  the  site  of  an  Indian  village. 

Jacob  Stoffelson  is  supposed  to  have  been  the 
first  white  man  to  set  foot  in  what  is  now  Passaic. 
He  was  a  highly  esteemed  though  little  educated 
man,  whose  friendship  with  the  Indians  led  him 
to  be  more  or  less  a  power.  Before  1678  he  ar- 
rived here,  looking  for  land  which  he  was  to 
purchase  for  his  friend  Christopher  Hoaglandt, 
a  New  York  merchant  from  Holland.  Stoffelson 
had  ridden  overland  from  Jersey  City,  making 
his  way  through  miles  of  wilderness. 

From  this  time  on  the  spot  came  to  be  known 
as  having  a  most  valuable  situation,  and  before 


THe  Van  Wagoner  Homestead       209 

long  it  was  a  settlement  of  thriving  Dutch. 
At  the  corner  of  Main  and  Gregory  avenues  is 
still  standing  a  relic  of  the  Dutch  period,  the  old 
Van  Wagoner  homestead,  its  stone  walls  screened 
by  weeping  willows.  This  house  is  almost  all 
that  is  left  to  call  up  pictures  of  Dutch  life  here. 

This  house  was  commenced  before  the  Revolu- 
tion, interrupted  by  the  war,  and  its  building  was 
resumed  in  1788.  For  years  it  remained  in  the 
hands  of  the  Van  Wagoners,  one  of  the  sturdiest 
and  finest  of  the  old  Holland  families.  They 
were  of  the  same  stock  as  the  Gerritsens ;  some 
members  of  the  family  changed  the  name  to 
signify  that  they  came  from  the  town  of  Wagen- 
ing,  and  thus  the  new  name  developed  in  the 
same  line. 

The  original  Gerritsen  brought  a  certificate 
from  the  ''burgomasters,  schepens  and  coun- 
sellors of  the  city  of  Wagening, ''  to  the  effect 
that  these  worthy  gentlemen  **have  testified 
and  certified  that  they  have  good  knowledge  of 
Gerrit  Gerritsen  and  Annetje  Hermansse,  his 
wife,  as  to  their  life  and  conversation,  and 
that  they  have  always  been  considered  and 
esteemed  as  pious  and  honest  people,  and  that 
no  complaint  of  evil  or  disorderly  conduct  has 
ever  reached  their  ears;  on  the  contrary,  they 
have  always  led  pious,  quiet,  and  honest  lives, 
as  it  becomes  pious  and  honest  persons.  They 
especially  testify  that  they  govern  their  family 

14 


210  Westward 

well  and  bring  up  their  children  in  the  fear  of 
God  and  in  all  modesty  and  respectability/' 

Many  branches  of  the  Gerritsens  (spelled 
variously)  and  the  Van  Wagoners  lived  to 
become  fruitful  and  multiply  and  replenish 
the  earth  for  many  miles  around  New  York. 
One,  called  ^'Manus"  Van  Wagoner,  was  promi- 
nent in  the  Revolution,  remaining  neutral  and 
entertaining  distinguished  members  of  both 
sides.  One  Mrs.  Gerritsen  was  far  from  neu- 
tral ;  some  lively  stories  of  her  partisanship  are 
related,  one  to  the  effect  that  she  chased  from 
her  house  with  the  tongs  some  old  neighbors 
who  had  become  British  informers;  at  another 
time  she  charged  upon  a  peddler  whom  she 
suspected  of  being  a  spy,  and  pushed  him  out 
over  the  lower  half  of  her  Dutch  door. 

If  you  will  turn  to  the  old  Dutch  church  just 
around  the  corner  from  the  Van  Wagoner 
homestead,  you  will  find  many  familiar  old 
names  of  that  period  inscribed  on  the  head- 
stones in  the  yard.  The  Polish  now  use  the 
church  building  for  their  services. 

The  bridge  which  leads  into  town  here  is 
not  far  from  the  site  of  the  original  bridge  of 
Acquackanonk.  The  original  crossed  about 
250  feet  to  the  north,  and  came  out  directly 
opposite  the  famous  old  Tap  House  on  the 
Hill.  A  little  farther  down,  where  Paulison 
Avenue  ends,  there  was  a  ferry.     Some   claim 


A.cq\jiacKanonK  Landing  21 1 

that  Washington,  in  his  retreat  from  Fort  Lee 
and  from  Hackensack,  crossed  the  river  at  the 
original  bridge  here,  and  camped  in  the  village 
overnight,  although  authorities  differ  on  this 
detail.  Part  of  Cornwallis'  army  is  said  to 
have  followed  to  this  bridge  and  found  it  de- 
stroyed, with  three  thousand  men  waiting  and 
ready  to  intercept;  the  British  wheeled,  and 
crossed  further  to  the  north. 

The  territory  which  was  once  included  under 
the  name  Acquackanonk  was  very  extensive, 
and  the  deeds  to  the  property  were  direct  from 
Sir  George  Carteret  and  the  Lords  Proprietors 
of  the  province  which  was  known  as  East  New 
Jersey.  For  many  years  the  village  was  eclipsed 
by  the  Landing;  navigation  to  New  York  was 
lively  every  fall  and  spring,  and  the  roads  lead- 
ing to  the  Landing  often  displayed  a  veritable 
procession  of  wagons,  coming  from  every  direc- 
tion, bringing  in  products  to  the  large  store- 
houses and  docks.  From  the  agricultural  regions 
came  grain,  hay,  and  farm  produce.  From  the 
woods  came  barrel  staves,  hoop  poles,  and  timber. 
From  the  mines  of  Morris  County  came  iron 
ore.  From  forest  districts  beyond  came  furs. 
All  these  goods  were  brought  to  Acquackanonk 
Landing  for  shipment.  In  the  midst  of  all  this 
lawful  prosperity,  there  is  a  somewhat  adventtir- 
ous  tale  of  the  Ludlow  brothers,  Cornelius  V.  C. 
and  John,  who  took  advantage  of  the  excellent 


212  Westward 

shipping  situation  to  fiirnish  the  British  with 
cannon  which  they  obtained  at  Ringwood  above 
Pompton,  during  the  War  of  1812. 

Contintiing  on  to  Paterson,  we  may  trace  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  stories  in  the  records  of 
indttstrial  America.  We  associate  the  name 
of  Alexander  Hamilton  so  constantly  with  his 
soldierhood  and  statesmanship  that  we  forget 
his  r6le  as  a  master  of  industry.  The  colossal 
scheme  of  organized  industry  which  he  visu- 
alized might  have  eclipsed  his  other  works, 
had  it  matured  under  his  hands.  The  cotmtry 
and  its  industrial  methods  were  hardly  ripe 
enough  in  the  seventeen-hundreds  to  develop 
his  plans;  probably  they  were  too  advanced,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  for  his  own  powers  of  execution. 
But  much  of  the  nation's  industrial  prosperity 
owes  its  beginning  to  Alexander  Hamilton  and 
his  discovery,  in  a  manufacturing  sense,  of  the 
Great  Palls  of  the  Passaic  River. 

As  you  approach  the  Falls,  you  pass  through 
dingy  streets,  beside  crowded  mills,  in  the 
midst  of  much  that  is  sordid  and  dismal.  Sud- 
denly the  road  swings  about  a  sweeping  curve, 
and  before  you  gapes  a  gorge,  sheer  and  wicked 
as  a  bit  of  Rocky  Motmtain  scenery,  with  men 
like  ants  toiling  at  the  foot  of  its  plunge. 

A  new  building  appears  glued  to  the  rock 
at  the  bottom  of  the  chasm.  Above  its  door 
you  may  read,  "1791-1914,"  and  between  the 


Hamilton's  Vision  213 

dates  the  three  significant  letters,  "S.  U.  M." 
This,  in  brief,  is  the  story. 

Soon  after  the  Revolution,  when  the  United 
States  was  settling  down  from  the  disturbance 
of  war  and  beginning  to  take  up  constructive 
thought,  Alexander  Hamilton,  the  first  Secretary 
of  the  Treasury  under  Washington,  conceived 
the  idea  of  a  great  association.  It  was  to 
organize  American  manufactures — every  kind 
of  manufacture,  from  a  spool  of  thread  to  a 
plow.  It  was  to  establish  the  real  independence 
of  the  young  country.  As  soon  as  this  offspring 
of  Britain  should  learn  to  make  her  own  wares 
she  would  be  genuinely  quit  of  apron  strings, 
and  would  cease  to  be  an  importer.  Further- 
more, in  time  she  would  compete  with  foreign 
countries,  would  become  an  exporter  on  a  vast 
scale. 

Having  seen  this  vision  of  the  future  unrolling 
before  him,  Hamilton  looked  about  for  a  place 
suitable  to  begin  operations.  He  thoroughly 
scoured  the  country  surrounding  New  York. 
At  last  he  sifted  the  matter  down;  no  situation, 
according  to  his  idea,  held  such  promise  as  the 
Great  Falls  of  the  Passaic  at  a  point  then  in- 
cluded in  the  town  of  Acquackanonk.  Paterson 
did  not  then  exist;  Ottawa,  a  tiny  village  across 
the  river,  was  the  nearest  hamlet. 

So  enthusiastic  was  the  great  financier,  and 
so  logical  did  his  plan  appear,  that  he  succeeded 


214  Westward 

in  interesting  many  capitalists  in  the  venture. 
Five  thousand  shares  of  stock  were  subscribed, 
at  one  hundred  dollars  each,  though  only  2267 
were  ever  fully  paid  for.  The  organization  was 
latmched  in  179 1,  the  Legislature  of  New  Jersey 
pas^ng  an  act  incorporating  it;  and  its  name  was 
announced  as  ''The  Society  for  Establishing 
Useful  Manufactures. ''  It  created  such  enthusi- 
asm, such  faith,  that  both  individuals  and  the 
State  were  ready  to  yield  to  its  every  request; 
it  was  authorized  to  put  through  canals,  to  claim 
whatever  it  needed  for  its  purposes  in  numberless 
ways.  The  start  was  made  with  a  mill  for  the 
making  of  cotton  cloth. 

The  tale  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  this  society 
reads  like  the  tale  of  a  mere  bursting  bubble. 
But  in  essence  this  dream  was  more  than  a  bub- 
ble, for  all  its  outward  bursting.  It  paved  the 
way,  despite  its  own  failure,  for  a  vast  industrial 
life  which  might  never  have  reached  its  present 
proportions  but  for  Hamilton's  vision. 

When  only  this  one  small  cotton  factory  was 
as  yet  under  way,  the  crash  came.  It  appears 
that  an  adventurer  of  a  reckless  and  spend- 
thrift disposition.  Major  L'Enfant  by  name, 
became  influential  in  the  organization  and 
brought  about  its  demise.  His  visions  were 
as  mad  as  Hamilton's  had  been  sane,  and  he 
plunged  the  funds  into  a  ship  canal  which  he 
planned  to  build  from  Paterson  to  the  head  of 


J-r'f. 


The  Passaic  River,  near  the  Site  of  the  Old  Acqiiackanonck  Bridge. 


The  Monument  to  Alexander  Hamilton  at  Weehawken. 


The  Old  House  at  Huyler's  Landing,  Built  before  the  Revolution. 


The  Cornwallis  Headquarters  at  Alpine, 


End  of  the  S.  U.  M.  215 

tidewater  in  the  Passaic.  Thus  ended  the 
prosperity  of  the  S.  U.  M. 

But  the  organization  was  not  dead.  It 
possessed  a  perpetual  charter,  and  held  juris- 
diction and  rights  over  the  watershed.  The 
corporation  survives  to-day  in  the  water  com- 
pany of  this  district,  which  perpetuates  the  name 
and  history;  and  Hamilton's  discovery  of  the 
manufacturing  value  of  the  Passaic  led  to  the 
sudden  forging  ahead  of  American  industry. 
Other  factories  sprang  up  around  the  great 
nucleus;  within  a  little  over  a  century,  more 
than  a  hundred  silk  mills  clustered  there,  with 
two  hundred  times  as  many  operatives.  The 
manufactures  of  the  present  have  spread  far 
beyond  that  of  silk;  machinery,  locomotives, 
and  so  on  are  made  here. 

During  the  summer,  the  himdred  feet  of 
precipitous  rock  lie  bare  in  the  heat.  Through 
the  winter  the  Falls  present  a  wonderful  picture 
— a  picture  which  the  Indians  knew  long  before 
any  white  person  had  ever  seen  it,  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  Seventeenth  Century.  The  Indians 
named  the  Falls  Totowa,  which  means  to  sink, 
or  to  be  forced  down  beneath  the  water  by 
weight.  They  told  tales  of  the  marvelous  rain- 
bows which  formed  above  the  cataract,  of  the 
glen  called  the  Valley  of  the  Rocks,  where 
Washington  and  Lafayette  both  wandered  in 
later  days. 


21 6  "Westward 

Even  before  the  Revolution,  tourists  were 
making  exctirsions  to  the  Great  Falls  so  fre- 
quently, as  their  fame  grew,  that  it  appeared 
worth  while  to  Abraham  Godwin  to  establish 
a  public  house  in  the  neighborhood.  An  an- 
nouncement issued  November  28,  1774,  reads: 

'^This  is  to  acquaint  the  public  that  there  is 
a  stage-waggon  erected  to  go  from  the  house 
of  Abraham  Godwin,  near  the  Great  Falls,  to 
PowlesHook/' 

Still  later  the  Falls  became  known  as  the 
scene  of  dare-devil  exploits,  such  as  Niagara  has 
boasted  of.  The  story  of  Sam  Patch  is  the  most 
familiar.  Some  have  walked  tight  ropes  stretched 
across  the  ravine ;  one  of  these  performances  was 
by  Mons.  de  Lave,  as  long  ago  as  i860.  There 
have  been  terrific  accidents  and  sensational 
rescues  here;  James  W.  McKee,  the  song  writer, 
once  snatched  the  reins  from  a  team  and  made  a 
life-line  which  he  threw  to  a  man  and  a  boy  who 
had  been  dashed  over  the  edge,  and  they  actu- 
ally clung  to  the  line  and  were  safely  landed. 

Back  in  the  main  part  of  town  we  find  a  few- 
historic  buildings.  One  is  the  old  hotel  at  the 
foot  of  Bank  Street,  where  River  Street  inter- 
sects; this  was  the  one  built  about  1774  by 
Abraham  Godwin.  A  little  west  of  it  stands 
the  stone  house  which  Cornelius  Van  Winkle 
erected  in  1770.  On  Water  Street,  between 
Hamburgh  Avenue  and  Temple  Street,  stands 


"WasHin^ton's  Horses  SHod  217 

the  Doremus  house,  which  is  the  oldest  dweUing 
in  the  city. 

On  Main  Street  stands  the  First  Presby- 
terian Chtirch,  more  than  a  centiiry  old.  Among 
its  early  doctiments  is  preserved  a  paper  headed: 

''subscription  for  a  hearse,  1825. 

''We  the  subscribers,  members  of  the  First 
Presbyterian  Congregation  in  Paterson,  consider- 
ing it  to  be  desirable  and  important  that  a 
Hearse  should  be  procured,  which  shall  be 
the  property  of  the  Congregation,  to  be  used 
for  the  accommodation  of  the  members  of  this 
Congregation — and  also  for  the  accommodation 
of  others,  when  convenient — Promise  to  pay  to 
the  Trustees  of  the  First  Presbyterian  Society 
in  Paterson  the  sums  annexed  to  our  respective 
names  for  the  above  mentioned  object.'' 

"Easy  rolling  grades,  fine  views,''  is  the  road 
note  printed  on  a  recent  automobile  map,  where 
the  road  from  Paterson  to  Pompton  continues 
along  the  Passaic  Valley.  The  way  was  less 
easy  when  Washington's  army  crossed  Pompton 
Township,  as  it  did  several  times,  going  between 
West  Point  and  Morristown.  In  the  valley  of 
Ringwood,  the  place  where  Washington  had 
his  horses  shod  is  still  pointed  out.  Near  this 
Robert  Erskine  was  buried;  he  had  been  given 
the  management  of  the  iron  mines  in  this  district 


21 8  Westward 

for  the  London  company  before  the  Revolution, 
but  at  the  outbreak  of  that  war  he  joined  the 
American  forces.  Washington  was  a  close  friend 
of  his,  and  Erskine  was  made  Geographer  and 
Surveyor-General  to  the  Army  of  the  United 
Sta-tes. 

If  the  motorist  of  the  nineteen-hundreds  re- 
turns to  New  York  from  Paterson  and  Pas- 
saic by  way  of  the  Paterson  Plank  Road,  he 
will  arrive  at  Weehawken,  where  the  story  of 
Alexander  Hamilton  was  brought  to  its  close. 
Going  east  to  the  heights  which  rise  above  the 
vista  of  New  York  and  her  thronged  waters, 
below  which  trains,  ready  to  start  in  dozetis  of 
different  directions,  lie  like  serpents  stretched 
in  lean  lines  below,  and  coimtless  boats  crawl 
hither  and  thither,  he  will  find,  at  the  edge 
of  the  Boulevard,  the  monument  which  marks 
Hamilton's  end. 

This  was  in  1804.  Hamilton  had  been  active 
in  politics  for  a  long  time.  In  1795  he  had 
resigned  his  office  as  Secretary  of  the  Treasury, 
having  accomplished  enough  in  that  office  to 
entitle  him  to  a  comparative  rest.  He  had  car- 
ried a  measure  for  the  funding  of  the  domestic 
debt,  in  order  to  reestablish  public  credit;  had 
founded  a  national  bank;  and  had  rearranged 
the  system  of  duties.  Moreover,  he  had  been 
of  inestimable  aid  to  the  administration  in  mat- 
ters outside  the  scope  of  his  own  department. 


Duel  of  Hamilton  and  Burr  219 

But  although  he  resumed  his  private  law 
practice  in  New  York  after  six  years  of  work 
for  the  new  government,  he  was  leader  of  the 
Federal  party,  and  the  fierce  party  strife  of  180 1 
brought  him  forward  into  public  life  again.  In 
the  winter  of  1804  he  and  Aaron  Burr  crossed 
political  swords,  and  the  upshot  was  a  duel 
challenge  by  Burr,  Hamilton  had  great  abhor- 
rence of  the  practice  of  dueling,  but  the  chal- 
lenge was  so  made  that  he  felt  it  impossible  in 
honor,  to  refuse;  and  on  the  morning  of  July  nth, 
Hamilton  and  Burr  met  just  at  the  foot  of  this 
cliff,  below  where  the  monximent  now  stands. 
It  was  the  same  spot  where  Hamilton's  eldest 
son  had  been  killed  in  a  duel  three  years  before. 

He  fell  at  the  first  shot  from  Burr's  pistol. 
He  made  no  attempt  to  answer  the  fire.  He  was 
mortally  wounded;  being  carried  across  the  river 
to  the  home  of  Mr.  Bayard,  near  Greenwich 
Village,  he  died  the  following  day,  soon  after 
the  arrival  of  his  wife  and  children.  Such  was 
the  nation's  sympathy  with  him  and  indignation 
toward  his  opponent  that  Burr  was  practically 
exiled.  Hamilton's  widow  lived  tmtil  1854,  and 
was  much  beloved  and  honored. 

The  bowlder  against  which  Hamilton  fell  in  the 
duel  was  preserved. 


CHAPTER  XV 

ALONG  THE  PALISADES 

NESTLING  at  the  foot  of  the  Palisades  was 
old  Closter  Landing.  Above  it,  now  as 
then,  the  height  is  cloaked  by  a  mass  of  dense 
green  foliage.  It  is  not  far  from  the  highest 
point  of  the  entire  wall;  from  here  up  to  Indian 
Head,  opposite  Hastings,  the  Palisades  rise  to 
their  greatest  height.  The  Landing  is  known 
to-day  as  Alpine,  and  lies  opposite  the  town  of 
Yonkers. 

When  the  Palisades  Interstate  Park  Commis- 
sion took  the  west  bank  of  the  Hudson  River 
and  made  it  a  pleasure  ground  for  the  people,  it 
included  the  stretch  all  the  way  from  Newburgh 
in  New  York  State,  south  to  Fort  Lee  in  New 
Jersey.  There  is  no  finer  strip  along  the  shore 
than  that  near  Alpine — ^here  you  can  penetrate 
woodsy  trails  that  suggest  the  Catskills,  and 
scramble  over  wave-lashed  rocks  that  remind 
you  of  the  coast  of  Maine. 

Where  the  little  rowboat  of  old  days  crossed 
the  river,  you  can  now  take  the  ferry  from 

220 


Closter  Landing  221 

Yonkers  and  cross  in  a  few  minutes.  Straight 
ahead  of  you,  as  you  approach  the  further  shore, 
lies  a  deep  pass  known  as  Alpine  Gorge,  and 
here  an  old  road  winds  up  to  the  summit  and 
on  to  the  town  of  Closter.  Here  is  Harrington 
Township,  named  for  Peter  Haring  who  came 
from  North  Holland  in  the  early  part  of  the 
Seventeenth  Century.  The  Great  Chip  Rock 
Reach  was  the  name  once  applied  to  the  stretch 
along  the  river  where  you  are  landing. 

It  is  a  calm  enough  picture  to-day.  The  woods 
lie  green  and  still,  the  river  slaps  quietly  on  the 
shore,  picnickers  land  and  hurry  away  with 
their  bulging  baskets,  a  park  patrolman  in  ftill 
regalia  marches  solitary  along  the  rocks.  Only 
one  lonely  white  house  stands  near,  to  link  the 
comfortable  present  with  the  war-torn  past. 

A  century  and  a  half  ago  it  was  built,  from 
the  stones  that  strewed  the  shore,  from  the  tim- 
ber yielded  by  the  virgin  forest.  Its  heavy 
walls  have  withstood  time  and  weather.  It  is 
preserved  as  the  Comwallis  Headquarters. 

On  November  19,  1776,  Comwallis  crossed 
the  river  and  arrived  where  you  are  to-day, 
at  Closter  Landing.  He  brought  six  thousand 
men.  He  had  with  him  the  first  and  second 
battalions  of  light  infantry.  There  were  also 
two  companies  of  chasseurs,  the  33d  and  42d 
regiments  of  the  line,  and  two  battalions  of 
guards. 


222  Westward 

The  American  forces  at  Fort  Lee  were  the 
object  of  his  pursuit.  Having  landed  upon  the 
west  bank  and  being  near  his  destination,  he 
looked  about  for  a  comfortable  headquarters 
and  fotmd  this  dwelling  immediately  at  hand. 
Here  he  ate,  drank,  and  gave  commands,  and 
here  the  tradition  of  the  British  stay  has  ever 
since  climg — and  will  cling  permanently,  for  the 
house  is  preserved  by  the  Park  Commission  as 
a  landmark. 

A  partly  obliterated  road  leads  from  just  south 
of  the  house  to  the  crest  above.  It  is  hardly 
more  than  a  steep  trail  through  a  wilderness  at 
present;  so  steep,  that  anyone  who  attempts  it 
now  must  realize  what  it  meant  to  the  British 
army  to  scale  the  summit. 

Here  Comwallis'  men  mounted  to  the  top  of 
the  Palisades.  On  the  edge  of  the  bluff  above, 
you  stand  where  the  British  general  stood  before 
he  proceeded  south  to  Fort  Lee.  It  was  a 
two-hour  march  on  a  November  morning,  made 
while  the  retreat  of  Washington  began,  and  one 
of  the  darkest  days  of  Revolutionary  history  was 
dawning  upon  our  army. 

At  old  Closter  Landing  the  Half -Moon  has  been 
making  headquarters  much  of  the  time  since  her 
first  voyage  up  the  Hudson  River  in  1909,  at 
the  Hudson-Fulton  celebration.  In  the  year 
1609  her  ancestor,  whose  name  she  bears,  sailed 
slowly  up  the  river  as  far  as  Indian  Head,  just 


Hurler's  Landing  223 

above  this  point.  There  the  first  anchor  that 
ever  was  lowered  into  the  Indians'  Ma-hi-can- 
ittuc  River  cut  the  blue  water,  and  the  original 
Half -Moon  lay  at  rest.  In  the  morning,  twenty- 
eight  canoes  filled  with  men,  women,  and  children 
made  out  to  the  vessel,  bearing  oysters  and 
beans  which  the  Dutch  purchased.  No  doubt 
curiosity  was  a  stronger  incentive  than  the  sale 
of  oysters  and  beans. 

If  the  traveler  of  to-day  follows  the  British 
march  to  Fort  Lee,  he  must  keep  to  the  top  of 
the  bluff.  But  the  walk  along  the  shore  reveals 
several  interesting  landmarks.  The  next  land- 
ing below  Alpine  was  known  in  early  times  as 
Lower  Closter.  It  is  now  called  Huyler's  Land- 
ing, and  the  broad  white  house  which  guards  it 
shines  across  the  river,  a  familiar  sight  from  the 
east  shore,  at  Ludlow.  It  stands  almost  at  the 
water's  edge,  and  is  of  about  the  same  period 
as  the  Cornwallis  Headquarters.  It  must  have 
been  equally  well  built,  and  more  pretentious. 
The  substantial  appearance  of  both  buildings 
offers  a  silent  comment  on  the  get-built-quick 
domiciles  of  the  hasty  present. 

Just  south  is  another  house  of  pre-Revolu- 
tionary  period,  but  not  cared  for  as  the  other  two 
are. 

Continuing  still  to  the  south,  you  come  at 
last  to  a  little  old  cemetery — ^you  can  easily 
miss  it  if  you  do  not  look  sharply  to  the  right. 


224  West-ward 

A  group  of  worn  tombstones  is  to  be  discovered, 
half  smothered  in  the  tangle  of  green  which 
covers  the  slope.  If  you  will  break  your  way 
through  the  tangle,  and  part  concealing  branches, 
you  can  make  out  dates  a  century  old,  and  the 
names  of  various  members  of  the  Van  Wagoner 
family  who  dwelt  hereabouts  as  early  as  the 
Revolution.  The  Van  Wagoners  lived,  died, 
and  were  buried  here,  in  Undercliff  Settlement, 
a  succession  of  generations. 

Above,  on  the  brow  of  the  cliff,  you  may  see 
Hermit's  Point  jutting  out.  You  are  approach- 
ing the  one-time  Englewood  Pier,  now  a  landing 
place  for  the  Dykman  Street  Ferry.  Still  further 
south,  near  where  the  Fort  Lee  Ferry  runs  from 
130th  Street  in  Manhattan  to-day,  was  the  old 
Burdett  's  Ferry  of  Revolutionary  days. 

This  route  was  important,  being  the  continu- 
ation of  the  Hackensack  Turnpike.  The  road 
snaked  its  way  from  the  valley  beyond,  and 
approached  the  water  at  a  point  near  the  old 
Burdett  home — ^representatives  of  this  family 
have  ever  since  been  living  at  Fort  Lee.  The 
proudest  tradition  of  the  family  is  said  to  be 
that  one  Mrs.  Peter  Burdett  cooked  the  flapjacks 
on  which  General  Washington  and  his  officers 
breakfasted  during  their  stay  in  the  neighborhood. 

Burdett's  Ferry  was  the  only  means  of  com- 
munication between  the  sister  forts,  Washington 
and  Lee,  and  while  Mollie  Sneden  was  operating 


Patriotism  and  FlapjacKs  225 

the  ferry  at  Sneden's  Landing,  five  miles  above 
Alpine,  the  loyal  patriot  Peter  Burdett  was 
assisting  our  army  to  transport  ammunition 
and  supplies  as  well  as  soldiers  from  shore 
to  shore,  while  his  better  half  displayed  her 
patriotism  in  flapjacks. 

The  old  Burdett  homestead  was  for  many 
years  a  landmark  of  Fort  Lee,  but  it  has  at  last 
been  demolished.  Etienne  Burdett,  son  of  one 
of  the  early  Huguenots  in  this  country,  cleared  a 
spot  in  the  forest  of  the  Palisades  and  there  built 
him  a  dwelling.  Acres  surrotuiding  belonged  to 
him.  His  brother  Peter  fell  heir  to  the  home, 
and  it  long  remained  in  the  family. 

On  the  Palisades  at  Fort  Lee  we  are  on  the 
historic  ground  of  the  American  fort — ^the  point 
toward  which  Comwallis  was  left  marching 
from  Closter  Landing.  Thomas  Paine  has  left 
the  best-known  description  of  the  evacuation 
of  this  post;  as  an  aide-de-camp  to  Greene  he 
saw  all  the  retreat ;  he  was  with  the  troops  here, 
and  he  marched  with  them  back  to  the  edge  of 
Pennsylvania. 

In  the  center  of  the  town  is  Monument  Square, 
with  its  Revolutionary  montmient  which  was 
erected  in  1908  by  the  State  of  New  Jersey 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Fort  Lee  Revolution- 
ary Mommient  Association.  It  is  the  work  of 
the  sculptor  Carl  E.  Tefft.  Two  bronze  figures 
of  Continental  soldiers  seem  to  be  scaling  the 

15 


226  Westward 

great  bowlders  which  form  the  base,  one  fairly 
at  the  top,  the  other  struggling  to  reach  it; 
these  bowlders  are  the  very  stuff  of  the  Palisades 
themselves,  and  the  conception  of  the  soldiers' 
ptirpose  is  to  achieve  that  crest. 
'  Arthtir  C.  Mack's  volume.  The  Palisades  of 
the  Hudson,  traces  these  localities  in  detail. 
Turning  toward  the  south,  you  come  upon  a 
small  stone  church  which  has  no  stirring  history 
of  its  own,  but  is  in  the  midst  of  historic  sites. 
Directly  in  front  of  where  this  modern  Episcopal 
church  stands  was  Washington's  well.  Some- 
what further  down  and  toward  the  north,  the 
ancient  army  oven  is  known  to  have  been. 

West  from  the  church,  across  the  trolley  track 
and  a  little  beyond,  is  Hook's  Ice  Pond,  where 
workmen  in  1898  dug  up  quantities  of  relics. 
There  were  found  cannon  balls,  bayonets,  shoe 
buckles,  stirrups,  bullets,  and  bullet  molds. 
Long  ago,  on  the  west  side  of  the  pond,  there  were 
piles  of  stones  which  had  once  been  fireplaces 
in  the  soldiers'  huts. 

North  of  the  church  again,  north,  too,  of  the 
monument  and  just  east  of  Parker  Avenue  (the 
street  on  which  the  church  faces)  you  will  find 
the  main  site  of  fortification,  lying  between 
Cedar  and  English  streets.  In  this  immediate 
vicinity  there  have  been  dug  up  bullets,  bullet 
molds,  and  cannon  balls  within  recent  years. 

Continuing  still  further  north,  and  eastward, 


Pedoxxbts  of  tKe  Palisades  227 

out  toward  the  edge  of  the  height,  you  will  find 
the  old  Bluff  Point,  the  site  of  the  works  en- 
closed by  the  abatis.  This  site  is  out  toward  the 
river  from  the  end  of  Main  Street.  Some  dis- 
tance further  up  along  the  edge  is  the  site  of  the 
redoubt  which  commanded  the  simken  obstruc- 
tions between  Fort  Washington  and  Port  Lee. 

This  was  the  situation  in  '76.  The  Palisades* 
bluff  jutting  out  here  at  Fort  Lee  had  been  forti- 
fied early  in  the  year  by  two  redoubts;  the  lower 
and  lesser  was  called  Fort  Constitution,  and  the 
upper,  the  main  one,  was  named  after  Charles 
Lee,  who  later  attempted  to  buy  his  freedom 
from  British  captors  by  offering  them  a  plan  for 
conquering  Washington's  army.  His  name  has 
not,  therefore,  been  a  popular  one,  and  few  of  us, 
in  using  the  name  of  the  fort,  ever  think  of  its 
origin.  Lee  was  taken  back  into  the  American 
army  and  reappointed  second  in  command,  but 
his  treachery  at  Monmouth,  and  other  misdeeds, 
led  to  his  final  dismissal,  and  he  died  a  sad  and 
disgraced  death  in  later  years. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Fort  Lee  story,  Fort 
Washington,  across  the  river,  had  fallen.  This 
fortification  stood  on  the  hill  between  i8ist  and 
1 86th  streets  of  the  present.  Congress  had  in- 
sisted that  General  Washington  should  hold  this 
fort  in  spite  of  his  wish  to  evacuate — ^but  in  the 
end  Howe  had  contrived  to  get  a  supply  of 
flatboats  to  King's  Bridge,  and  thus  reach  Fort 


228  Westward 

Washington.  It  was  then  a  fairly  simple  matter 
for  the  British  to  proceed.  Magaw  found  him- 
self wholly  in  the  power  of  the  enemy,  and  he  and 
his  garrison  became  prisoners  of  war.  He  had 
made  a  stubborn  defense,  having  refused  Howe's 
first  stimmons  to  surrender;  but  the  end  found 
the  garrison  of  more  than  two  thousand  men  in 
the  jails  of  New  York. 

Washington,  meanwhile,  was  on  the  west 
shore  of  the  Hudson.  Both  Greene  and  Magaw 
had  believed  that  the  fort  on  the  east  side 
could  be  defended,  and  Magaw's  reply  to 
Howe's  first  summons,  November  15th,  showed 
his  spirit: 

"Actuated  by  the  most  glorious  cause  that 
mankind  ever  fought  in,  I  am  determined  to 
defend  this  post  to  the  very  last  extremity.  '* 

As  the  danger  had  increased,  Greene  had  sent 
a  messenger  across  the  river  to  Washington, 
informing  him  of  the  situation;  but  at  the  same 
time  he  sent  reinforcements  to  Magaw,  antici- 
pating a  happy  outcome.  The  message  dis- 
turbed Washington,  but  the  sender  was  hopeful. 
At  nightfall  Washington  had  arrived  at  Fort  Lee; 
Greene  and  Putnam  were  at  Fort  Washington. 
Irving  says:  '*He  threw  himself  into  a  boat  and 
had  partly  crossed  the  river,  when  he  met  those 
generals  returning.  They  informed  him  of  the 
garrison's  having  been  reinforced.  ...  It  was 
with  difficulty  however  that  they  could  prevail 


The  Monument  at  Fort  Lee,  to  Soldiers  oj  the 
Revolution. 


The  *' Half- Moon''  Anchored  at  Historic  ^' Closter  Landing.^' 


The  Old  Dutch  Church  of  Ilackensack,  whose  Records  Date  hack  to  i6S6. 


Mansion  House  at  Hackensack,  where  Washington  Stayed  during  his  Retreat. 


A.baxiclonxnent  of  Fort  Lee  229 

on  him  to  return  with  them  to  the  Jersey  shore, 
for  he  was  excessively  excited/' 

And  Bacon  adds:  "Less  discreet  historians 
than  Irving  have  not  hesitated  to  say  that  the 
Father  of  His  Country  on  that  occasion  expressed 
his  excitement  in  language  of  much  greater  vigor 
than  is  coimtenanced  by  polite  custom.  In  other 
words,  this  is  believed  to  have  been  one  of  the 
rare  occasions  upon  which  Washington  swore/' 

Fort  Washington  was  not  to  be  saved,  how- 
ever. Lossing  says:  "Washington,  standing 
upon  Fort  Lee  with  his  general  officers,  and  the 
author  of  Common  Sense,  saw  some  of  the  slaugh- 
ter near  the  doomed  fortress,  and  with  streaming 
eyes  he  beheld  the  meteor  flag  of  England  flash- 
ing above  its  ramparts  in  the  bright  November 
Sim." 

The  abandonment  of  Fort  Lee  was  now  a  fore- 
gone conclusion,  for  it  was  obviously  the  next 
move  for  the  British  to  take  the  sister  fort.  The 
flight  was  made  in  reckless  haste.  Camp  kettles 
were  left  on  the  fires,  more  than  four  hundred 
tents  were  left  standing,  and  more  than  three 
months'  provision  for  three  thousand  men.  A  few 
blankets,  a  little  baggage,  were  hauled  away  in 
wagons,  while  all  the  cannon  remained  except  two 
twelve-pounders.    Thomas  Paine  wrote: 

"As  I  was  with  the  troops  at  Fort  Lee  and 
marched  with  them  to  the  edge  of  Pennsylvania, 
I  am  well  acquainted  with  many  circumstances 


230  West^ward 

which  those  who  lived  at  a  distance  knew  little 
of.  Our  situation  there  was  exceedingly  cramped, 
the  place  being  on  a  narrow  neck  of  land  between 
the  Hackensack  and  North  Rivers.  Our  force  was 
inconsiderable,  being  not  one-fourth  as  great  as 
Hpwe  could  bring  against  us.  We  had  no  army 
at  hand  to  have  relieved  the  garrison,  had  we 
shut  ourselves  up  and  stood  on  the  defense. 
Our  ammtmition,  light  artillery,  and  the  best 
part  of  our  stores  had  been  removed  upon  the 
apprehension  that  Howe  would  endeavor  to 
penetrate  the  Jerseys,  in  which  case  Fort  Lee 
could  be  of  no  use  to  us.  .  .  .  Such  was  our 
situation  and  condition  at  Fort  Lee  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  20th  of  November,  when  an  officer 
arrived  with  information  that  the  enemy  with 
two  htmdred  boats  had  landed  seven  or  eight 
miles  above.  Major-General  Greene,  who  com- 
manded the  garrison,  immediately  ordered  them 
under  arms,  and  sent  an  express  to  his  Excellency, 
General  Washington,  at  Hackensack,  distant 
six  miles.  Our  first  object  was  to  secure  the 
bridge  across  the  Hackensack.  General  Wash- 
ington arrived  in  about  three-quarters  of  an 
hour  and  marched  at  the  head  of  his  troops.  .  .  . 
We  brought  off  as  much  baggage  as  the  wagons 
could  contain.  The  rest  was  lost.  .  .  .  The 
simple  object  was  to  bring  off  the  garrison  and 
march  them  on  till  they  could  be  strengthened 
by  the  Pennsylvania  or  Jersey  militia." 


A  Tragic  Retreat  231 

The  melancholy  retreat  over  the  six  miles 
back  to  Hackensack  left  only  a  deserted  fort 
for  Comwallis  when  he  arrived  from  Closter 
Landing.  The  conquest  was  easy  for  the  Eng- 
lish forces,  and  it  is  probable  that  they  might 
have  captured  the  American  army  had  they 
continued  with  vigor. 

If  you  follow  the  retreat  back  to  where  it 
arrived  at  Hackensack,  you  can  picture  a  cold, 
rainy  dusk.  In  such  a  dusk  the  Americans 
arrived.  They  came  marching  two  abreast; 
they  were  barefooted,  their  feet  torn  by  the  rough 
roads;  their  garments  were  so  worn  and  torn 
that  they  were  exposed  to  the  cold  rain,  except 
for  wrapping  their  blankets  around  them  as  they 
raarched.  Toward  the  Mansion  House  they 
trod  that  path  of  defeat  and  hardship,  and  were 
drawn  up  in  the  square  which  you  now  find 
crisply  trimmed  and  watered  and  green,  adorned 
with  a  foimtain,  prosperous,  and  at  peace. 

There  the  pitiful  group,  huddling  in  their 
blankets  against  the  rain,  waited  for  the  next 
duty.     Their  march  was  by  no  means  over. 

Facing  the  square  stands  the  Mansion  House, 
now  a  hotel,  but  in  those  days  the  private  resi- 
dence of  Peter  Zabriskie.  Washington  had  been 
making  it  his  headquarters,  and  he  returned  to 
it  now  for  the  period  before  continuing  his  march. 
A  tablet  has  been  placed  upon  the  building  by 
the  Bergen  County  Historical  Society  '*to  mark 


232  Westward 

the  site  of  the  Mansion  House  occupied  as  head- 
quarters by  General  George  Washington  during 
the  retreat  from  Fort  Lee  in  1776/' 

It  is  a  spacious,  old-fashioned  structure,  com- 
ing out  to  a  line  with  Main  Street  and  only 
slightly  withdrawn  from  the  sidewalk  on  its 
front,  Washington  Place.  The  house  has  been 
altered  and  added  to  since  the  days  of  Peter 
Zabriskie,  but  the  main  part  of  the  building  is 
the  same  as  in  1776. 

At  the  farther  end  of  the  small  park  is  the  old 
Dutch  church,  the  First  Reformed  Church  of 
Hackensack,  full  of  early  history.  Records  of 
the  original  building  date  back  to  1686.  It  is 
known  that  the  church  was  established  soon  after 
the  beginning  of  the  town,  which  was  in  1640, 
when  the  Dutch  settled  it,  naming  it  for  the 
Indians  who  dwelt  thereabouts.  The  name 
''Hackensack''  meant  to  the  Indians  ''a  river  in 
a  marsh,*'  and  distinguished  this  stream  from 
the  ''Passaic,"  "a  river  in  a  valley." 

The  churchyard  sturotmds  the  building,  and 
its  stones  bear  many  familiar  old  names.  Some 
of  the  materials  of  which  the  Dutch  church  of 
1696  was  constructed  are  now  to  be  seen  in  the 
eastern  wall. 

Here  and  there  are  old  names  carved  in  the 
stones  used  in  the  walls;  one  stone  reveals  the 
words,  "Jacob  Brinker  hoff  1792,"  and  another, 
"Peter  Zabrsky   1791,"   with    the    long   "s." 


£nocH  Poor  233 

Little  is  known  of  some  of  the  owners  of  these 
names.  Some  stones  display  ornamentation 
accompanying  the  letters — crude  carvings  of 
grotesque  figures,  similar  to  those  often  found 
on  headstones  in  old  churchyards. 

A  monument  standing  in  the  open  space  be- 
fore the  church,  and  opposite  the  Bergen  Coimty 
Court  House,  is  dedicated  to  the  memory  of 
Brigadier-General  Enoch  Poor,  by  the  New 
Jersey  Sons  of  the  American  Revolution.  Poor 
was  bom  in  Andover,  Massachusetts,  but  much 
of  his  life  was  associated  with  Hackensack,  and 
he  died  near  this  town  in  1780.  In  command  of 
a  New  Hampshire  brigade  he  rendered  signal 
service  at  many  battles,  especially  Stillwater, 
Saratoga,  Newtown,  and  Monmouth. 

At  Valley  Forge  he  displayed  his  courage  and 
tmselfishness  in  providing  for  the  comfort  of  his 
soldiers.  He  won  the  high  regard  not  only  of 
the  men  under  him,  but  of  Washington  and 
Lafayette.  A  military  funeral  closed  his  career; 
soldiers  marched  to  his  grave  beside  the  old 
Dutch  church  which  now  looks  upon  his  monu- 
ment; a  quaint  record  reports  that  the  drums 
were  muffled  in  black  cr6pe  and  that  the  officers 
wore  cr6pe  arotmd  their  left  arms. 

For  the  present-day  pilgrim  who  does  not 
care  to  leave  the  shores  of  the  Hudson,  and  follow 
Washington's  retreat  inland  to  Hackensack,  it 
is  worth  while  to  continue  south  from  Fort  Lee 


234  Westward 

and  search  out  the  landing  place  of  the  old  Buirs 
Ferry,  which  was  one  of  the  three  important 
crossings  (Fort  Lee  Ferry  and  Weehawken 
Ferry  being  the  others)  some  hundred  years  ago. 
Shadyside  of  modern  times  is  the  name  given 
this  point.  Near  the  old  ferry  a  blockhouse 
was  erected  during  the  Revolution,  and  this 
was  garrisoned  by  a  detachment  of  British 
troops.  It  served  as  protection  to  the  plunder- 
ing loyalists  who  lived  round  about,  safeguard- 
ing them  in  their  seizing  of  cattle  and  horses. 
When  the  Continentals  attacked  the  blockhouse 
in  order  to  get  back  their  property,  they  were 
repulsed  by  the  garrison  and  forced  to  give  up 
the  attack,  having  lost  sixty  men. 


NORTH  — FROM  THE  SHORES 

OF  THE  HUDSON  TO  LONG 

ISLAND  SOUND  AND 

EAST  RIVER 


235 


CHAPTER  XVI 

IN  ANDRfe's  FOOTSTEPS  TO  TAPPAN 

CNEDEN'S  LANDING,  or  Paramus  Landing 
^  as  it  was  previously  called,  is  in  Rockland 
County,  New  York.  It  may  be  reached  in  the 
Twentieth  Centtiry  by  a  ferryboat  which  is  the 
lineal  descendant  of  the  dugout  in  which  Jere- 
miah Dobbs  used  to  ferry  his  chance  passengers 
across  the  Hudson. 

This  same  Jeremiah  Dobbs  was  a  Swede,  a 
tenant  of  the  Philipses.  He  was  a  fisherman 
by  rights;  but  the  income  derived  from  selling 
fish  not  being  sufficient,  apparently,  to  maintain 
even  his  modest  ways  of  living,  he  put  his  dug- 
out to  use,  and  offered  it  as  a  means  of  crossing 
the  river  at  the  point  now  known  by  his  name. 
So  rapidly  did  his  trade  increase,  and  so  well 
known  did  his  ferry  become,  that  the  village 
springing  up  at  its  eastern  terminus  came  to  be 
called  "Dobbs  Ferry";  this  is  a  deep  regret  to 
many  residents  of  the  present  town.  In  fact, 
there  have  been  public  meetings  held  to  agitate 
the  question  of  this  name,  and  several  attempts 

237 


238  Northward 

made  to  induce  the  Legislature  to  change  it.  In 
1830,  Van  Brugh  Livingston  filed  deeds  under 
the  name  of  Livingston's  Landing,  and  for  a 
period  of  thirty  years  this  name  was  in  current 
use.  In  1870  a  meeting  was  held  to  arrange  for 
the  formal  adoption  of  a  name,  and  Jenkins 
gives  the  following  account  of  the  affair: 

"That  [name]  of  Paulding,  one  of  the  captors 
of  Andr6,  was  almost  agreed  upon  when  a  gentle- 
man arose  and  made  a  speech  in  a  serious  vein 
to  the  following  effect.  He  said  he  was  no  wor- 
shipper of  Dobbs;  he  disliked  that  his  home 
should  be  identified  with  such  a  low  place  as 
a  ferry;  double  names  especially  were  uncouth 
and  tmdesirable;  and  he  had  known  Paulding 
personally  and  could  not  brook  him.  Van 
Wart,  who  had  also  aided  in  the  capture  of 
Andr6,  was  a  Christian  gentleman;  he,  there- 
fore, moved  that  instead  of  calling  the  place 
Paulding-on-Hudson,  the  Van  of  Van  Wart 
be  stricken  off  and  the  place  be  called  'Wart- 
on-Hudson.'  The  speech  gave  such  a  ridiculous 
turn  to  the  whole  affair  that  the  meeting  broke 
up  and  nothing  further  was  attempted  at  that 
time." 

Other  efforts  have  been  made  to  drive  away 
the  ghost  of  old  Dobbs,  but  they  have  been  im- 
availing.  It  appears  that  he  is  there  to  stay. 
From  the  days  when  he  was  one  of  the  first 
settlers,  dwelling  in  a  shanty  on  Willow  Point, 


Dobbs  and  Molly  Sxieden  239 

he  must  have  traveled  far  toward  prosperity, 
for  he  and  his  ferry  were  of  great  importance. 

The  boat  in  which  he  carried  his  first  passen- 
gers was  a  canoe,  dug  out  of  a  tree-tnmk.  The 
one  used  now  is  a  light  motor-boat,  propelled 
by  a  power  which  would  no  doubt  seem  as 
Satanic  to  old  Dobbs  as  did  the  Headless  Horse- 
man to  his  neighbor,  Ichabod  Crane.  Never- 
theless, the  methods  of  this  modem  ferry  are 
somewhat  primitive.  To  stmimon  the  present 
boat,  one  approaches  a  signal — ^an  upright  white 
square  of  wood — ^which  stands  at  the  water's  edge ; 
pulls  a  rope  which  springs  a  trap  door,  and  thus 
displays  a  black  square  on  the  white.  The 
boatman,  who  may  be  reposing  over  at  Sneden's 
Landing,  puts  off  for  the  eastern  shore,  and  it  is 
well  for  the  traveler  if  he  be  not  in  desperate  haste. 

In  the  motor-boat  you  are  tossed  across  the 
Hudson  just  where  the  passengers  of  Dobbs  were 
tossed  in  colonial  times,  and  later,  those  of  Molly 
Sneden,  the  ferry  mistress  of  the  Revolution. 
That  one  end  of  the  route  should  commemorate 
his  name,  the  other  hers,  seems  a  fair  division  of 
fame.  The  ferry  of  to-day  is  used  by  a  few 
dwellers  on  the  west  shore  and  is  little  known 
to  the  general  traveler,  the  larger  and  more 
systematic  boats  from  Tanytown  to  Nyack 
carrying  most  of  the  passengers  for  this  region. 

Here  where  you  have  crossed,  the  British 
fleet  was  stationed  from  1776  to  1783;  and  here 


240  NortH^ward 

the  British  navy  first  saluted  the  American  flag, 
obeying  the  instruction  of  Parliament. 

Turning  toward  the  land,  you  will  see  before 
you  the  house  where  Molly  Sneden  dwelt.  It 
has  been  somewhat  altered  by  the  addition  of  a 
modem  veranda,  but  if  you  will  look  at  its  rear 
side  you  will  see  the  original  house  with  the 
modem  veranda  blotted  out,  and  the  unbroken 
line  of  stone  masonry,  the  old-time  shutters, 
preserving  the  traditions  of  past  days. 

Molly  Sneden  controlled  the  ferry  after  old 
Dobbs  had  laid  down  his  oars.  The  Sneden 
family  (Sneeden  and  Snyden  are  other  spellings 
of  the  name)  were  hot  Tories,  and  many  an  ad- 
venttire  did  the  ferry  participate  in.  Molly  was  a 
brave  woman,  and  her  grave,  in  the  old  cemetery 
above  at  Palisades,  is  preserved  with  honor. 

Tradition  has  it  that  in  1775  Martha  Washing- 
ton crossed  this  ferry  to  reach  General  Washing- 
ton who  was  then  at  Cambridge. 

Near  the  Sneden  house  stands  another  dwell- 
ing of  the  same  period,  in  which  the  roughly 
shaped  stones  of  the  Palisades  themselves  were 
laid  for  stout  walls,  as  firm  and  weather-worthy 
to-day  as  in  the  seventeen-hundreds. 

To  follow  all  of  history's  story  which  lies 
written  through  this  part  of  the  Hudson  River 
district,  you  must  climb  the  steep  road  leading 
from  the  ferry  landing  up  the  wall  of  rock.  The 
road   zigzags  from  one  fine  view  to  another, 


"The  Big  House ••  241 

a  series  of  delightful  river  and  land  pictures 
accompanying  you  all  the  way  to  the  top. 

By  the  sign  of  a  flag-pole  you  may  know  when, 
in  following  this  road,  you  have  reached  that 
building  known  as  ''The  Big  House."  Just  be- 
yond the  flag,  on  a  green  knoll  which  slopes 
on  one  side  toward  a  bit  of  woodland,  on  the 
other  toward  the  river,  stands  this  mansion 
whose  date  of  building  is  given  as  1685 — ^that  is, 
the  foundation  of  its  kitchen  is  said  to  have 
been  laid  in  that  year,  almost  a  century  before 
the  Revolution.  In  its  hall  is  a  mahogany  table 
at  which  Washington  is  said  to  have  sat,  and 
this  inscription  commemorates  the  fact: 

''At  this  table  Gen.  Washington  is  said  to 
have  dined  in  The  Big  House,  Palisades,  Rock- 
land Coimty,  New  York,  during  the  Revolution- 
ary War.  Property  of  the  Palisades  Library 
Association.     Aug.  30,  1899.'' 

Above  it,  along  the  broad  hall,  stretch  the 
giant  beams  of  old  days.  A  portion  of  the 
house  is  now  used  as  a  library. 

To  the  road  again.  It  is  smooth  and  wide 
and  well-shaded  much  of  the  way.  It  leads  to 
Tappan,  the  old  town  aroimd  which  centers  the 
strongest  historic  interest  of  this  trip,  it  being 
the  spot  upon  which  was  written  the  last  chapter 
of  Andre's  story. 

Tappan  is  about  two  miles  from  the  ferry 
below,  in  the  midst  of  a  fertile  valley.    This 

z6 


242  NortHi^ard 

region  was  known  during  the  Revolution  as 
having  abundant  forage.  It  was  well  situated 
for  an  army  encampment,  and  the  Americans 
used  the  ridge  to  the  southwest  for  this  purpose; 
the  shelter  of  the  hills  and  the  nearness  of  the 
river  gave  it  value.  When,  in  September,  1778, 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Baylor  was  sent  with  a  regi- 
ment of  light  horse  to  watch  the  British  move- 
ments, and  to  intercept  scouts  and  foragers,  he 
made  his  headquarters  at  Tappan. 

As  a  restilt,  the  place  became  the  scene  of 
a  serious  event.  His  troops  were  camping  in 
barns  more  than  two  miles  below  the  village  and 
were  imarmed.  Cornwallis  saw  an  opportunity 
to  take  the  Americans  by  surprise,  as  they 
were  in  a  position  of  great  insecurity.  He  sent 
General  Grey,  with  some  light  infantry  and 
other  troops,  to  approach  from  the  western  side, 
and  ordered  that  an  approach  on  the  east  be 
made  by  a  corps  from  Knyphausen's  division, 
Knyphausen  being  then  at  Dobbs  Ferry.  The 
plan  was  to  surroimd  Baylor's  camp,  also 
Wayne's  body  of  militia  who  were  not  far  off. 
Wayne's  men  were  warned  of  the  plan,  but 
Baylor's  remained  in  ignorance. 

It  was  midnight  when  Grey  silently  approached 
the  camp  of  sleeping  men.  They  were  entirely 
at  the  mercy  of  the  enemy,  and  mercy  was 
refused.  Grey  ordered  that  no  quarter  be 
given,   soldiers  were  bayoneted  outright,   and 


j»:rS 


The  Home  of  Molly  Sneden,  the  Jerry  Mistress,  at  Sfieden's  Landing. 


'The  Big  House/'  at  Palisades,  N.   Y.,  where  Washington  Sat  at  Table.     The 
Table  is  now  to  be  Seen  there. 


The  "  yd  Stone  House/'  ivJiere  Andre  was  Imprisoned  at  Tappan. 


The  Present  Ferryboat,  a  Lineal  Descendant  of  Jeremiah  Dobbs's  Dugout. 


"The  No-Flint  General *•  243 

sixty-seven  of  the  one  htindred  and  four  men 
were  wounded  or  killed.  Baylor  was  taken 
prisoner,  having  been  first  wounded. 

Grey  won  for  himself  the  reputation  of  hard- 
ness during  the  war  in  more  ways  than  one. 
He  was  called  ''The  No-Flint  General/'  owing 
to  his  custom  of  forcing  his  men  to  take  the 
flints  out  of  their  muskets,  in  order  that  they 
should  be  obliged  to  use  the  bayonet. 

That  portion  of  the  Andr6  story  which  was 
written  hereabouts  calls  for  a  refreshed  memory 
of  the  earlier  portion  which  involved  his  capture 
at  Tarrytown' — ^when,  with  the  perilous  papers 
crammed  inside  the  soles  of  his  stockings,  he 
was  taken  by  the  three  Apiericans,  scorned  when 
he  showed  Benedict  Arnold's  pass,  searched, 
and  summed  up  in  Paulding's  declaration,  ''By 
God,  he  is  a  spy!" 

He  had  written  frankly  to  Washington,  telling 
his  story  quite  fully — ^how  he  had  gone  up  the 
river  on  the  sloop  of  war  Vulture,  had  met 
Arnold  for  the  secret  conference  near  Stony 
Point  in  the  clump  of  fir  trees.  He  had  stopped 
at  the  house  of  Joshua  Smith  along  with  Arnold, 
and  during  that  stop  the  Vulture,  lying  waiting 
for  him  in  the  river,  had  been  fired  upon,  and 
Andr6  had  made  his  escape  with  difficulty.  To 
Washington  he  explained  this  situation;  but 
his  honesty  could  not  save  him. 

^.Chapter  XVII. 


244  NortKivard 

It  was  on  September  28,  1780,  that  he  was 
taken  across  the  river.  Major  Tallmadge  was 
put  in  charge  of  the  prisoner,  and  together  the 
two  men  set  out  for  Tappan.  During  that  sad 
jotrrney  Tallmadge  acquired  a  warm  interest  in 
the  brave  and  charming  young  officer.  Riding 
horseback  side  by  side,  they  fell  into  a  conver- 
sation that  partook  of  intimacy.  Andr6  asked 
what  feeling  the  American  officers  were  likely 
to  show  regarding  his  case.  Tallmadge  held 
silence  at  first,  thinking  of  the  fate  of  Nathan 
Hale  who  had  been  his  classmate  at  Yale  College 
and  whom  General  Howe  had  hanged  four  years 
before  for  an  act  of  the  same  nature  as  Andr6's. 
At  length,  the  question  being  repeated,  Tall- 
madge referred  to  the  fate  of  his  friend.  "But 
surely  you  do  not  consider  his  case  and  mine 
alike!''  Andr6  responded  with  surprise.  Tall- 
madge was  forced  to  answer:  ''They  are 
precisely  similar,  and  similar  will  be  your 
fate." 

Reaching  the  railroad  station  at  Tappan,  you 
must  cross  the  track  and  continue  along  the 
same  road  beyond  to  find  the  building  used  as  a 
prison  during  this  incident.  On  the  way  you 
will  pass  an  old  residence  now  known  as  the 
William  Rogers  house,  the  sixth  on  your  left; 
local  tradition  calls  this  the  Washington  Head- 
quarters. The  rear  of  the  house  is  more  indica- 
tive of  its  age  than  the  front,  which  has  been 


A.tteznpt8  to  Save  A.ndr6  245 

extended  on  the  side  toward  the  Sparkill  River 
by  which  the  lawn  is  flanked.  The  house  is 
said  to  have  been  built  in  1700. 

A  little  further  along  you  come  to  the  red 
church,  the  original  of  which  was  the  building 
in  which  Andr6's  trial  was  held.     Fiske  says: 

''A  military  commission  of  fourteen  generals 
was  assembled,  with  Greene  presiding,  to  sit 
in  judgment  on  the  unfortunate  young  officer. 
'It  is  impossible  to  save  him,'  said  the  kindly 
Steuben,  who  was  one  of  the  judges.  'Would  to 
God  the  wretch  who  has  drawn  him  to  his  death 
might  be  made  to  suffer  in  his  stead!'  The 
opinion  of  the  court  was  unanimous  that  Andre 
had  acted  as  a  spy,  and  incurred  the  penalty  of 
death.  Washington  allowed  a  brief  respite, 
that  Sir  Henry  Clinton's  views  might  be  con- 
sidered. The  British  commander,  in  his  sore 
distress  over  the  danger  of  his  young  friend, 
could  find  no  better  grounds  to  allege  in  his 
defense  than  that  he  had,  prestmiably,  gone 
ashore  under  a  flag  of  truce,  and  that  when  taken 
he  certainly  was  travelling  imder  the  protection 
of  a  pass  which  Arnold,  in  the  ordinary  exercise 
of  his  authority,  had  a  right  to  grant.  But 
clearly  these  safeguards  were  vitiated  by  the 
treasonable  purpose  of  the  commander  who 
granted  them,  and  in  availing  himself  of  them 
Andr6,  who  was  privy  to  this  treasonable  pur- 
pose, took  his  life  in  his  hands  as  completely  as 


246  NortKiward 

any  ordinary  spy  would  do.  Andr6  himself 
had  already  candidly  admitted  before  the  court 
'that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  suppose  that 
he  came  ashore  imder  the  sanction  of  a  flag'; 
and  Washington  struck  to  the  root  of  the  matter, 
as  -he  invariably  did,  in  his  letter  to  Clinton, 
where  he  said  that  Andr6  'was  employed  in  the 
execution  of  measures  very  foreign  to  the  objects 
of  flags  of  truce,  and  such  as  they  were  never 
meant  to  authorize  or  countenance  in  the  most 
distant  degree. '  The  argtmient  was  conclusive, 
but  it  was  not  strange  that  the  British  general 
should  have  been  slow  to  admit  its  force.  He 
begged  that  the  question  might  be  submitted 
to  an  impartial  committee,  consisting  of  Knyp- 
hausen  from  the  one  army  and  Rochambeau 
from  the  other;  but  as  no  question  had  arisen 
which  the  military  commission  was  not  thor- 
oughly competent  to  decide,  Washington  very 
properly  refused  to  permit  such  an  tmusual 
proceeding.  Lastly,  Clinton  asked  that  Andr6 
might  be  exchanged  for  Christopher  Gadsden, 
who  had  been  taken  in  the  capture  of  Charleston, 
and  was  then  imprisoned  at  St.  Augustine.  At 
the  same  time,  a  letter  from  Arnold  to  Washing- 
ton, with  characteristic  want  of  tact,  hinting  at 
retaliation  upon  the  persons  of  sundry  South 
Carolinian  prisoners,  was  received  with  silent 
contempt. 

''There  was  a  general  feeling  in  the  American 


Andre's  Petition  to  be  Shot  247 

army  that  if  Arnold  himself  could  be  stirrendered 
to  justice,  it  might  perhaps  be  well  to  set  free 
the  less  guilty  victim  by  an  act  of  executive 
clemency;  and  Greene  gave  expression  to  this 
feeling  in  an  interview  with  Lieutenant-General 
Robertson,  whom  Clinton  sent  up  on  Sunday, 
the  first  of  October,  to  plead  for  Andre's  life. 
No  such  suggestion  could  be  made  in  the  form 
of  an  official  proposal.  Under  no  circumstances 
could  Clinton  be  expected  to  betray  the  man 
from  whose  crime  he  had  sought  to  profit,  and 
who  had  now  thrown  himself  upon  him  for  pro- 
tection. Nevertheless,  in  a  roundabout  way 
the  suggestion  was  made.  On  Saturday,  Cap- 
tain Ogden,  with  an  escort  of  twenty-five  men 
and  a  flag  of  truce,  was  sent  down  to  Paulus 
Hook  with  letters  for  Clinton,  and  he  contrived 
to  whisper  to  the  commandant  there  that  if  in 
any  way  Arnold  might  be  suffered  to  slip  into 
the  hands  of  the  Americans  Andr6  would  be  set 
free.  It  was  Lafayette  who  had  authorized 
Ogden  to  offer  the  suggestion,  and  so,  apparently, 
Washington  must  have  connived  at  it;  but 
Clinton,  naturally,  refused  to  entertain  the  idea 
for  a  moment.  The  conference  between  Greene 
and  Robertson  led  to  nothing.  A  petition  from 
Andr6,  in  which  he  begged  to  be  shot  rather 
than  hanged,  was  duly  considered  and  rejected; 
and,  accordingly,  on  Monday,  the  second  of 
October,  the  ninth  day  after  his  capture  by  the 


248  NortH-ward 

yeomen  at  Tarrytown,  the  adjutant-general  of 
the  British  army  was  led  to  the  gallows." 

The  building  in  which  the  young  British 
officer  was  imprisoned  during  these  swift,  bitter 
days  is  only  a  short  distance  beyond  the  church. 
''The  '76  Stone  House"  it  is  called,  and  to-day 
its  historic  inscriptions  are  displayed  amidst 
the  announcements  of  a  road  house  and  the 
refreshments  oiTered  therein.  Lossing,  in  de- 
scribing his  visit  to  this  building  more  than  half 
a  century  ago,  states  that  ''its  whole  appearance 
has  been  materially  changed,"  and  adds,  "The 
room  wherein  the  unfortunate  prisoner  was 
confined,  and  which  was  kept  with  care  in  its 
original  condition  more  than  half  a  century,  has 
been  enlarged  and  improved  for  the  purposes  of 
a  ball-room  I  I  was  there  a  few  years  ago,  when 
the  then  owner  was  committing  the  sacrilege, 
and  he  boasted,  with  great  satisfaction,  that  he 
had  received  a  'whole  dollar  for  the  old  lock  that 
fastened  up  Major  Andrew!'  "  Could  Lossing 
visit  the  place  to-day,  with  its  billiard-room  and 
liquor  store  within,  its  lager  beer  signs  without, 
he  would  reflect  even  more  sadly  now  than  then 
that  "sentiment  does  not  obey  the  laws  of  trade 
— ^it  seems  to  cheapen  with  a  decrease  of  supply." 
A  picture  of  Andr6,  and  some  ancient  relics, 
including  a  fiddle  and  oxbow,  are  to  be  seen 
within  the  building. 

From  this  building  Andr6  was  led  forth  and 


Execution  of  Andre  249 

Up  the  slope  beyond,  where  you  follow  the  road. 
Turning  to  the  left  on  a  branch  that  leads  toward 
a  knoll,  you  will  reacli  the  spot  where  the  execu- 
tion took  place.  A.  circle  of  iron  fence  surrounds 
a  simple  stone.  The  inscription  states  that : 
''Here  died,  October  2,  1780,  Major  John  Andr6 
of  the  British  Army,  who,  entering  the  American 
lines  on  a  secret  mission  to  Benedict  Arnold  for 
the  stirrender  of  West  Point,  was  taken  prisoner 
and  condemned  as  a  spy.  His  death,  though 
according  to  the  stern  code  of  war,  moved  even 
his  enemies  to  pity,  and  both  armies  mourned 
the  fate  of  one  so  young  and  so  brave.  In  1821 
his  remains  were  removed  to  Westminster  Abbey. 
A  hundred  years  after  his  execution  this  stone 
was  placed  above  the  spot  where  he  lay,  not  to 
perpetuate  the  record  of  strife,  but  in  token  of 
those  better  feelings  which  have  since  tmited  two 
nations,  one  in  race,  in  language  and  in  religion, 
with  the  earnest  hope  that  this  friendly  union 
will  never  be  broken/' 

Andr6  met  death  gallantly,  although  the  bit- 
terness of  dying  as  a  spy,  not  a  soldier,  tortured 
him  to  the  end.  The  execution  took  place  at 
twelve  o'clock.  ''The  principal  guard-officer," 
wrote  Dr.  Thatcher,  an  army  surgeon,  who  was 
present,  "who  was  constantly  in  the  room  with 
the  prisoner,  relates  that  when  the  hour  of  execu- 
tion was  announced  to  him  in  the  morning,  he 
received  it  without  emotion,  and,  while  all  pre- 


250  NortH-ward 

sent  were  affected  with  silent  gloom,  he  retained 
a  firm  countenance.  •  .  .  Observing  his  ser- 
vant enter  his  room  in  tears,  he  exclaimed, 
'Leave  me,  until  you  can  show  yourself  more 
manly'.  .  .  .  Major  Andr6  walked  from  the 
stone  house  in  which  he  had  been  confined  be- 
tween two  of  our  subaltern  officers,  arm-in-arm. 
...  It  was  his  earnest  desire  to  be  shot,  as 
being  the  mode  of  death  most  comf ormable  to  the 
feelings  of  a  military  man,  and  he  had  indulged 
the  hope  that  his  request  would  be  granted. 
At  the  moment,  therefore,  when  suddenly  he 
came  in  view  of  the  gallows,  he  involtmtarily 
started  backward  and  made  a  pause.  'Why 
this  emotion,  sir?'  said  an  officer  by  his  side. 
Instantly  recovering  his  composure,  he  said,  '  I 
am  reconciled  to  my  death,  but  I  detest  the 
mode.'  " 

On  the  previous  day  he  had  made  a  last  appeal 
in  a  letter  to  Washington,  asking  that  he  might 
die  a  soldier's  death.  N.  P.  Willis  translated 
the  brave  and  dignified  request  into  verse  in 
this  wise: 

It  is  not  the  fear  of  death 
That  damps  my  brow; 

It  is  not  for  another  breath 
I  ask  thee  now; 

I  can  die  with  a  lip  unstirr'd, 
And  a  qtiiet  heart — 

Let  but  this  prayer  be  heard 
Ere  I  depart. 


Poem  by  N,  P.  Willis  251 

I  can  give  up  my  mother's  look — 

My  sister's  kiss; 
I  can  think  of  love — yet  brook 

A  death  like  this! 
I  can  give  up  the  yotmg  fame 

I  bum'd  to  win; 
All — but  the  spotless  name 

I  glory  in. 

Thine  is  the  power  to  give, 

Thine  to  deny, 
Joy  for  the  hour  I  live. 

Calmness  to  die. 
By  all  the  brave  should  cherish, 

By  my  dying  breath, 
I  ask  that  I  may  perish 

By  a  soldier's  death. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

BESIDE  THE  HUDSON  TO  SLEEPY  HOLLOW 

THERE  is  a  drowsy  little  old  churchyard  over- 
shadowed by  thick  branches,  htimmed  to  by 
lazy  bees — a  spot  that  means  more  than  we  have 
as  yet  estimated  in  our  literature's  history.  Let 
us  travel  toward  it  along  the  Hudson's  east  shore. 

Old  Broadway,  upon  leaving  Yonkers,  began 
to  climb  a  steep  hill  as  it  pushed  on  toward  the 
north.  The  road  being  difficult,  the  Highland 
Turnpike  Company  took  it  in  hand  about  1806, 
straightened  out  its  worst  windings,  smoothed  it, 
and  established  a  toUgate.  Thus  the  name  of 
''The  Highland  Turnpike"  was  applied  to  it, 
although  the  name  that  has  remained  through 
the  years  is  that  of  the  Albany  Post  Road. 

Along    the    water's    edge    nms    Warburton 

Avenue,  lined  with  fine  country  estates.     Above 

it,  on  the  hill,  runs  the  old  turnpike,  which  has  in 

its  day  also  been  flanked  by  many  famous  estates. 

One  of  these  was  the  home  of  C.  H.  Lilienthal, 

with   its   battlemented   tower   of   brownstone, 

visible  from  the  river.    A  high  gray  tower  marks 

252 


Peter  Post  253 

the  famous  "Greystone,"  country  house  of 
Samuel  J.  Tilden,  who  was  Governor,  and  candi- 
date for  the  Presidency  of  the  United  States. 
He  was  called  the  * '  Sage  of  Greystone. ' '  Samuel 
Untermyer  owns  the  property  now,  and  has 
made  a  practice  of  throwing  open  the  magnificent 
grounds,  gardens,  and  hothouses  of  rare  flowers 
to  the  enjoyment  of  the  public. 

Hastings  lies  next  on  old  Broadway's  route. 
Its  site  almost  covers  the  old  Post  estate.  One 
Peter  Post  formerly  owned  all  this  territory  and 
occupied  his  small  stone  house  here  as  far  back 
as  the  time  of  the  Revolution.  But  after  that 
war  the  house,  formerly  a  dwelling-place  of  good 
repute,  fell  into  other  hands,  and  came  to  be 
used  as  a  tavern,  and  the  good  people  round 
about  were  horrified  by  the  genial  company  of 
cock-fighters  and  hard  drinkers  who  gathered 
nightly  under  its  roof.  The  resort  grew  to  be 
notorious,  but  the  worthy  neighbors  were  even- 
tually appeased  when  its  career  as  a  tavern  closed 
and  it  passed  once  more  back  into  the  oblivion 
of  respectability,  coming  to  be  described  as  *'a 
neat  cottage." 

Peter  Post's  encounter  with  a  group  of  Hes- 
sians is  a  Hastings  tradition.  He  was  a  loyal 
patriot,  and  he  assisted  Colonel  Sheldon  to 
surprise  a  party  of  the  troublesome  Hessians,  by 
leading  them  to  believe  that  the  Americans  whom 
they  were  pursuing  were  further  ahead,  whereas 


254  NortK-ward 

these  same  Americans  were  hidden  in  the  rear 
and  merely  awaiting  their  chance.  The  Hes- 
sians passed  on,  the  Americans  sallied  forth,  to 
the  end  that  only  one  marauder  was  left  to  tell 
the  tale.  Dead  bodies  of  the  Hessians  were 
strewn  in  all  directions.  But  the  stirvivor  made 
off  to  Emmerick's  camp,  did  in  fact  tell  his  tale, 
and  Post  was  the  victim  of  the  enemy's  rage. 
He  was  all  but  killed  by  the  blows  he  received. 
The  affair  occurred  in  1777. 

From  Hastings,  Broadway  pushes  on  to  Dobbs 
Ferry.  Here  stands  the  so-called  Livingston 
mansion.  The  house  was  built  by  a  Dutch 
farmer,  and  it  was  probably  not  until  many 
years  after  that  the  name  of  Livingston  was 
connected  with  it.  But  it  is  best  remembered 
as  the  home  of  Van  Brugh  Livingston;  later  it 
was  owned  by  Stephen  Archer,  and  the  Has- 
brouck  family  have  been  recent  occupants. 

The  house  has  of  late  struggled  bravely  against 
decay.  But  although  the  yard  and  the  roof 
and  the  veranda  may  be  shabby,  the  treasures 
witiiin-doors  are  carefully  preserved.  One  room 
is  shown  in  which  the  Evacuation  papers  were 
signed.  This  is  in  the  middle  of  the  building, 
the  front  portion  having  been  built  on  since 
Revolutionary  days.  A  rosewood  table,  with  its 
accompanying  rosewood  and  haircloth  chairs, 
is  called  "the  Lafayette  table,"  tradition  hav- 
ing it  that  in  times  of  large  entertainments  this 


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Conference  at  Dobbs  Ferrx         ^55 

long  and  groaning  board  would  be  stretched 
diagonally  across  the  room. 

In  May  of  1783,  General  Washington,  with 
Clinton  and  their  stiites,  went  down  the  river  to 
meet  Sir  Guy  Carleton  who  was  to  come  up  the 
river  in  a  frigate  and  meet  them  at  Dobbs  Ferry. 
Here  at  the  Livingston  Mansion  the  conference 
between  the  commanders  took  place.  On  May 
8th  the  American  party  dined  on  board  the  sloop, 
where  they  were  received  with  military  honors 
and  entertained  with  stately  courtesy  by  General 
Carleton. 

A  montiment  standing  near  the  house  records 
the  fact  that  ''here,  in  1781,  the  French  allies 
under  Rochambeau  joined  the  American  army. 
Here,  in  178 1,  Washington  planned  the  Yorktown 
campaign,  which  brought  to  a  triumphant  end 
the  war  for  American  independence.  Here,  in 
1783,  Washington  and  Carleton  arranged  for  the 
evacuation  of  American  soil  by  the  British;  and 
opposite  this  point  a  British  sloop  of  war  fired 
seventeen  gims,  the  first  salute  by  Great  Britain 
to  the  United  States  of  America." 

Southwest  of  the  house  is  the  horseshoe- 
shaped  embankment  where  the  remains  of  the 
military  fort  were  to  be  seen  for  many  years. 
The  grotmd  has  now  been  leveled  over.  Dobbs 
Ferry  was  within  the  ''Neutral  Ground"  of  the 
Revolution,  and,  like  every  other  place  within 
these  limits,  stiffered  from  marauders  and  raiders 


256  NortHiward 

of  both  sides.  From  the  mouth  of  the  Croton 
River  east  to  the  Sound  ran  the  Americans'  line 
of  posts,  that  the  enemy  might  be  held  off  from 
the  Highlands.  The  British  line  ran  near  the 
Harlem  River,  starting  at  Kingsbridge  and  reach- 
ing to  Pelham  and  New  Rochelle.  The  tract 
lying  between,  about  a  score  of  miles  in  width, 
belonging  to  neither  side,  was  known  as  the 
Neutral  Ground,  and  not  only  did  the  regular 
troops  cause  trouble  to  the  dwellers  within  those 
twenty  miles,  but  here  the  famous  ''Cowboys" 
of  the  British  and  "Skinners'*  of  the  Americans, 
mere  lawless,  marauding  bands,  robbed,  burned, 
and  murdered  in  their  wild  raids. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  town's  main  street 
you  come  upon  a  pretty  glen  crossed  by  a  rustic 
bridge.  There  is  a  story  to  the  effect  that  the 
glen  at  this  point  was  an  old  camping  place  of 
Indians,  and  that  the  British  later  on  used  it  as 
a  camping  grotmd.  The  Indians  knew  Dobbs 
Ferry  as  "The  Place  of  the  Bark  Kettle," and 
their  settlement  was  probably  located  at  the 
mouth  of  Wicker's  Creek. 

At  Irvington  the  post  road  enters  what  has 
come  to  be  familiarly  known  as  the  land  of  Irving. 
A  little  blue  sign  reading  simply  "Stmnyside 
Lane"  introduces  the  pilgrim  to  this  land.  You 
enter  the  shaded  curves  with  a  throb  of  beloved 
association:  this  is  the  lane  that  Irving  tells  you 
of,  this  is  the  brook — ^the  wild  brook,  which  "came 


"Wolfert's  Roost  257 

babbling  down  the  ravine  and  threw  itself  into 
the  little  cove  where  of  yore  the  Water  Guard 
harbored  their  whale-boats."  The  history  of 
this  home  of  Irving's  is  ftilly  given  in  Wolf  erf  s 
Roosty  wherein  he  explains  the  origin  of  its  curi- 
ous name;  how  Wolfert  ''retired  to  this  fastness 
in  the  wilderness,  with  the  bitter  determination 
to  bury  himself  from  the  world,  and  live  here  foir 
the  rest  of  his  days  in  peace  and  quiet.  In  token 
of  that  fixed  purpose,  he  inscribed  over  his  door 
his  favorite  Dutch  motto,  '  Lust  in  Rust '  (plea- 
sure in  quiet).  The  mansion  was  thence  called 
Wolfert's  Rust,  but  by  the  uneducated,  who  did 
not  understand  Dutch,  Wolfert 's  Roost.'* 

At  the  end  of  the  lane  you  enter  the  gates  of 
the  estate.  Except  upon  the  few  days  in  the 
year  when  the  present  members  of  the  Irving 
family  reserve  these  grotmds  for  their  private 
enjoyment,  these  gates  are  open  to  visitors. 
Any  weekday  other  than  a  holiday  the  public 
is  admitted.  The  stranger  within  the  gates  may 
stroll  down  the  paths  and  out  into  the  opening 
where  trees  part  and  that  wonderful  picture  of 
the  Tappan  Zee,  one  of  Irving's  keenest  delights, 
suddenly  meets  the  eye.  Here  stands  the 
famous  house;  once  the  Roost,  later  named 
Sunnyside,  that  "little  old-fashioned  stone  man- 
sion, all  made  up  of  gable  ends,  and  as  full  of 
angles  and  corners  as  an  old  cocked  hat."  It 
bears  the  same  likeness  to  a  cocked  hat  to-day 

X7 


258  Northward 

that  it  did  when  Washington  Irving  chose  it  for 
his  abiding  place,  in  the  land  which  he  had  loved 
from  his  boyhood,  when  he  had  played  along 
this  part  of  the  Hudson's  shore.  The  trunks  of 
the  old  vines  which  drape  the  building  are 
grown  to  tree-like  dimensions.  In  the  tower  the 
old  bell  still  hangs,  the  bell  which  in  early  days 
summoned  farm  hands  to  gather. 

On  the  green  circle  in  front  of  the  house  I 
foxmd  a  very  little  chap  in  modem  Buster  Brown 
garments  and  a  wide  straw  hat;  on  that  green 
circle,  face  to  face  with  the  Tappan  Zee  where 
British  ships  of  war  were  once  anchored,  where 
*' stout  galleys  armed  with  eighteen-potmders 
and  navigated  with  sails  and  oars,  cruised  about 
like  hawks,"  the  little  chap  was  earnestly  en- 
gaged in  trying  to  fire  a  cannon  of  some  four 
inches  in  length.  ''Why  won't  it  go  off?"  he 
demanded,  rolling  it  forward  on  its  diminutive 
wheels  imtil  it  commanded  the  Tappan  Zee. 
''  I  want  to  shoot  the  enemy  with  it."  From  that 
''little  Mediterranean"  once  "ploughed  by 
hostile  prows,"  there  came  not  a  sound;  not 
even  an  excursion  boat  was  to  be  seen;  and  at 
Wolfert's  Roost,  once  a  rallying  place,  a  secret 
station  from  which  the  enemies  of  a  nation  could 
be  watched,  a  point  at  which  plots  fermented 
and  war  hummed  in  the  air,  there  was  only 
a  very  little  boy  playing  with  a  four-inch-long 
cannon. 


"The  Storm-Ship"  259 

The  Tappan  Zee  is  about  two  and  a  half  miles 
wide  and  ten  miles  long.  It  has  played  its  part 
both  in  actual  history,  and  in  lore.  It  was  a 
source  of  inspiration  to  Irving  for  much  that 
he  wrote.  We  can  imagine  that  the  legend  of 
"The  Storm-Ship"  took  form  upon  paper  when 
he  was  gazing  forth  upon  this  water  which  the 
ghostly  ship  was  said  to  haunt. 

''In  the  golden  age  of  the  province  of  the  New 
Netherlands,  the  people  of  the  Manhattoes  were 
alarmed  one  sultry  afternoon  by  a  tremendous 
storm  of  thunder  and  lightning.  Great  was  the 
terror  of  the  good  old  women  of  the  Manhattoes. 
They  gathered  their  children  together,  and  took 
refuge  in  the  cellars;  after  having(hung  a  shoe  on 
the  iron  point  of  every  bedpost,  lest  it  should 
attract  the  lightning^  At  length  the  storm 
abated;  the  thunder  sank  into  a  growl,  and  the 
setting  sun,  breaking  from  under  the  fringed 
borders  of  the  clouds,  made  the  broad  bosom 
of  the  bay  to  gleam  like  a  sea  of  molten  gold. 

''  The  word  was  given  from  the  fort  that  a  ship 
was  standing  up  the  bay.  It  passed  from  mouth 
to  mouth,  and  street  to  street,  and  soon  put  the 
little  capital  in  a  bustle.  The  arrival  of  a  ship, 
in  those  early  times  of  the  settlement,  was  an 
event  of  vast  importance  to  the  inhabitants.  The 
news  from  the  fort,  therefore,  brought  all  the  pop- 
ulace down  to  the  Battery,  to  behold  the  wished- 
for  sight.    Many   were   the  groups   collected 


26o  NortH^vard 

about  the  Battery.  Here  and  there  might 
be  seen  a  burgomaster,  of  slow  and  pompous 
gravity,  giving  his  opinion  with  great  confidence 
to  a  crowd  of  old  women  and  idle  boys.  At 
another  place  was  a  knot  of  old  weather- 
beaten  fellows,  who  had  been  seamen  or  fisher- 
men in  their  times,  and  were  great  authorities 
on  such  occasions;  these  gave  different  opinions, 
and  caused  great  disputes  among  their  several 
adherents:  but  the  man  most  looked  up  to,  and 
followed  and  watched  by  the  crowd,  was  Hans 
Van  Pelt,  an  old  Dutch  sea-captain  retired  from 
service,  the  nautical  oracle  of  the  place.  He  re- 
connoitred the  ship  through  an  ancient  telescope, 
hummed  a  Dutch  time  to  himself,  and  said 
nothing.  A  hum,  however,  from  Hans  Van 
Pelt,  had  always  more  weight  with  the  public 
than  a  speech  from  another  man. 

"In  the  meantime  the  ship  became  more 
distinct  to  the  naked  eye:  she  was  a  stout,  round, 
Dutch-built  vessel,  with  high  bow  and  poop, 
and  bearing  Dutch  colors.  The  evening  sun 
gilded  her  bellying  canvas,  and  she  came  riding 
over  the  long  waving  billows.  The  sentinel  who 
had  given  notice  of  her  approach,  declared,  that 
he  first  got  sight  of  her  when  she  was  in  the  center 
of  the  bay;  and  that  she  broke  suddenly  on  his 
sight,  just  as  if  she  had  come  out  of  the  bosom 
of  the  black  thimder-cloud.  The  by-standers 
looked  at  Hans  Van  Pelt,  to  see  what  he  would  say 


Hans  Van  Pelt  261 

to  this  report;  Hans  Van  Pelt  screwed  his  mouth 
closer  together,  and  said  nothing;  upon  which 
some  shook  their  heads,  and  others  shrugged 
their  shoulders. 

"The  ship  was  now  repeatedly  hailed,  but 
made  no  reply,  and  passing  by  the  fort,  stood 
on  up  the  Hudson.  A  gun  was  brought  to  bear 
on  her,  and,  with  some  difficulty,  loaded  and 
fired  by  Hans  Van  Pelt.  The  shot  seemed  ab- 
solutely to  pass  through  the  ship,  and  to  skip 
along  the  water  on  the  other  side,  but  no  notice 
was  taken  of  it !  What  was  strange,  she  had  all 
her  sails  set,  and  sailed  right  against  wind  and 
tide,  which  were  both  down  the  river.  Upon 
this  Hans  Van  Pelt  set  off  to  board  her;  but  he 
turned  without  success.  Sometimes  he  would 
get  within  one  or  two  hundred  yards  of  her,  and 
then,  in  a  twinkling,  she  would  be  half  a  mile  off. 
He  got  near  enough,  however,  to  see  the  crew; 
who  were  all  dressed  in  Dutch  style,  the  officers 
in  doublets  and  high  hats  and  feathers;  not  a 
word  was  spoken  by  anyone  on  board;  they 
stood  as  motionless  as  so  many  statues.*' 

The  tale  goes  on  to  relate  how  much  the  gov- 
ernor was  disturbed  by  the  appearance  of  this 
ship ;  how  he  called  his  council  together  repeatedly, 
sent  messengers  about,  but  could  learn  nothing 
of  the  ship  and  its  mission.  Captains  of  sloops 
seldom  came  in  without  bringing  a  report  of 
having  seen  the   strange  ship  at   some  point 


262  NortK-ward 

along  the  river;  ''sometimes  it  was  by  the  flashes 
of  the  thunder-storm  lighting  up  a  pitchy  night, 
and  giving  glimpses  of  her  careering  across  Tap- 
pan  Zee,  or  the  wide  waste  of  Haverstraw  Bayv 
Her  appearance  was  always  just  after,  or  just 
before,  or  just  in  the  midst  of  unruly  weather; 
and  she  was  known  among  the  skippers  and 
voyagers  of  the  Hudson  by  the  name  of  'the 
storm-ship/  " 

Many  theories  were  advanced  concerning  the 
origin  of  this  vessel.  Some  "suggested,  that,  if 
it  really  was  a  supernatural  apparition,  as  there 
was  every  natural  reason  to  believe,  it  might 
be  Hendrick  Hudson,  and  his  crew  of  the 
Half-Moonr 

But  "other  events  occurred  to  occupy  the 
thoughts  and  doubts  of  the  sage  Wouter  and  his 
council,  and  the  storm-ship  ceased  to  be  a  subject 
of  deliberation  at  the  board.  It  continued,  how- 
ever, a  matter  of  popular  belief  and  marvellous 
anecdote  through  the  whole  time  of  the  Dutch 
government,  and  particularly  just  before  the 
capture  of  New  Amsterdam,  and  the  subjuga- 
tion of  the  province  by  the  English  squadron. 
About  that  time  the  storm-ship  was  repeatedly 
seen  in  the  Tappan  Zee,  and  about  Weehawk, 
and  even  down  as  far  as  Hoboken;  and  her  ap- 
pearance was  supposed  to  be  ominous  of  the 
approaching  squall  in  public  affairs,  and  the 
downfall  of  Dutch  domination. 


Jacob  Van  Tassel  263 

"Since  that  time  we  have  no  authentic  ac- 
cotints  of  her.  People  who  live  along  the  river 
insist  that  they  sometimes  see  her  in  summer 
moonlight;  and  that  in  a  deep  still  midnight 
they  have  heard  the  chant  of  her  crew,  as  if 
heaving  the  lead;  but  sights  and  sounds  are 
deceptive  along  the  motmtainous  shores." 

Jacob  Van  Tassel  was  owner  of  Wolfert's  Roost 
at  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution,  and  his  re- 
publican sympathies  were  well  known  He  made 
the  Roost  a  rendezvous  for  American  land- 
scouts,  and  also  water-guards  who  lurked  in 
coves  along  the  shore  in  their  canoe-shaped  boats 
called  whaleboats,  to  obtain  information  con- 
cerning the  enemy,  sometimes  cutting  off  boats 
which  attempted  to  approach  the  shore  from 
British  vessels.  Van  Tassel  often  accompanied 
his  friends  in  their  expeditions,  leaving  as  garrison 
at  home  his  wife,  his  sister  Nochie  Van  Wurmer, 
a  blooming  young  daughter,  and  a  negro  woman. 

On  one  occasion,  when  a  boatful  of  armed  men 
approched  the  shore  from  a  vessel,  landed,  and 
attacked  the  house,  the  valiant  garrison  of  four 
wielded  broomsticks,  shovels,  and  any  other 
weapons  of  the  kind  available;  but  in  spite  of 
this  noble  defense  the  house  was  plundered  and 
burned,  and  the  beauty  of  the  Roost  was  seized. 
Van  Tassel's  wife,  sister,  and  the  negro  woman 
fought  to  get  her  back,  battling  down  to  the  edge 
of  the  water;  suddenly  a  voice  from  the  fjigate 


264  NortHi^ard 

commanded  that  the  prize  be  left  behind,  and, 
as  Irving  says,  ''the  heroine  of  the  Roost  escaped 
with  a  mere  nmipHng  of  the  feathers."  Van 
Tassel's  house  was  rebuilt  upon  the  same  site, 
and  that  second  dwelling  is  the  present  house 
at  Stmnyside. 

Emerging  from  Sunnyside  Lane,  you  continue 
on  Broadway  past  the  estates  of  many  wealthy 
residents  who,  as  Jenkins  says,  ''thus  far  have 
succeeded  in  keeping  the  trolley  cars  from  the 
historic  highway,  the  last  effort  in  that  direction 
being  in  opposition  to  a  bill  before  the  Legislature 
of  1 910.  To  mention  these  owners  would  be  to 
give  a  list  of  the  greatest  and  best  in  the  business, 
political,  literary,  and  professional  life  of  New 
York  for  several  generations/'  Lyndehurst, 
which  became  famous  as  the  home  of  Miss  Helen 
Miller  Gould,  now  Mrs.  Finley  Shepard,  is  the 
most  prominent  of  these  residences.  Its  grotmds, 
like  those  of  the  Irving  home,  stand  open  to  the 
public  except  on  Sundays  and  holidays.  The 
castle-like  house  stands  in  the  midst  of  vast 
gardens  and  trees.  At  the  foot  of  the  slope, 
near  the  river,  is  an  attractive  brown-shingled 
building  which  Miss  Gould  erected  as  a  club 
for  the  girls  of  the  village,  with  meetings  on 
Saturdays  for  various  classes.  Adjoining  it  is 
a  tennis  court  for  the  girls. 

Years  ago  the  estate  was  the  home  of  Philip 
R.  Paulding  and  was  called  "Paulding  Manor"; 


Name  of  Tarryio"wn  265 

PhiKp  Hone  called  it  "  Patilding's  Folly,"  on 
account  of  its  extravagance.  Later  it  was  known 
as ' '  Merritt 's  Folly, ' '  the  then  owner,  Mr.  Merritt, 
having  spent  more  than  one  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  in  the  conservatories  and  green- 
houses whi«h  are  still  in  use.  Jay  Gould  was  a 
later  owner,  and  his  daughter  inherited  Lynde- 
hurst. 

The  post  road  leads  you  on  to  Tarrytown. 
The  origin  of  this  town's  name  is  disputed. 
'* Wheat  Town*'  is  said  by  some  to  have  been 
the  meaning  of  the  original  name, ''  Tarwe  Dorp  '* 
in  Dutch,  which  latter  has  been  gradually  cor- 
rupted into  ''Tarrytown."  The  name  of  two 
early  settlers,  the  Terry  brothers,  is  another 
origin  ascribed.  Irving  offered  the  explanation 
that  the  farmers  of  the  neighborhood  used  to 
bring  their  produce  here  to  be  shipped  to  New 
York,  and  on  these  occasions  they  tarried  so 
long  at  the  hospitable  taverns  around  that  the 
place  came  to  be  known  as  Tarrytown  to  these 
farmers'  wives. 

On  Broadway,  between  Tanytown  and  Sleepy 
Hollow  beyond,  stands  a  stately  monument. 
It  is  of  native  marble,  surmounted  by  the  figure 
of  a  minute-man  in  bronze,  resting  upon  his 
rifle.  The  scene  of  Andr6's  capture  is  depicted 
in  bronze  bas-relief  on  the  monument's  base. 
Here,  in  September,  1780,  Major  John  Andr6 
was  captured  by  the  three  Americans,  Isaac 


266  NortK-ward 

Van  Wart,  John  Patdding,  and  David  Williams. 
Andr6  had  just  consiimmated  his  plot  with 
Arnold  and  was  attempting  to  reach  New 
York, 

According  to  Fiske,  Sir  Henry  Clinton  had 
warned  the  yotmg  officer  not  to  carry  any  papers 
which  might  endanger  him.  But  Andr6  did 
not  heed  the  advice,  and  he  took  with  him  from 
Arnold  six  papers,  five  of  them  being  in  the 
traitor's  handwriting.  They  contained  descrip- 
tions of  the  fortresses  and  information  con- 
cerning the  disposition  of  the  troops.  Andr6 
expected  to  tie  up  these  papers  with  a  stone  in 
the  bundle,  so  that  he  could  drop  them  into  the 
water  in  case  of  emergency;  but  in  the  meantime 
he  placed  them  inside  the  soles  of  his  stockings. 
With  Joshua  Sn:uth  he  crossed  the  river  from  the 
west  shore  where  he  had  met  Arnold,  and  started 
on  his  ride  toward  White  Plains.  Smith  showed 
such  timidity  on  account  of  the  Cowboys  and 
Skinners  who  infested  the  region,  that  Andr6  was 
obliged  to  stop  with  him  at  a  farmhouse  over- 
night, though  delay  was  dangerous;  next  morn- 
ing Smith  became  so  very  nervous,  when  the 
journey  was  resumed,  that  Andr6  let  him 
go  back,  and  continued  toward  White  Plains 
alone. 

He  now  struck  into  the  road  which  led  through 
Tarrytown.  He  felt  himself  out  of  danger,  and 
rode  light-heartedly.    But  that  morning  a  party 


The  Signal  for  the  Ferryman  at  Dobbs  Ferry. 


^.  '^^ 


The  Livingston  Mansion,  Dobbs  Ferry. 


The  Old  Mill  at  Philipse  Manor  {now  Demolished). 


The  Bridge  at  Sleepy  Hollow. 


Papers  in  Andre's  StocKin^s        267 

of  seven  young  men  had  come  forth  with  the 
purpose  of  intercepting  some  Cowboys  who  were 
expected;  and  when  Andr6  came  riding  toward 
them  about  nine  o'clock,  near  the  creek  above 
Tarrytown,  three  of  the  young  men  sprang  out 
at  him  from  the  bushes,  caUing  ''Halt !''  They 
leveled  their  muskets  at  him  because  he  was  a 
stranger;  had  Smith,  whom  they  knew,  been 
along,  there  would  probably  have  been  nothing 
but  a  casual  greeting. 

Believing  that  these  were  Cowboys,  one  of 
them  happening  to  have  on  a  Hessian's  coat, 
Andr6  frankly  said  that  he  was  a  British  officer 
and  that  his  business  was  important.  Upon 
that  John  Paulding,  he  of  the  Hessian  coat, 
stated  that  the  party  consisted  of  Americans, 
and  ordered  him  to  dismount. 

The  famous  search  followed,  the  papers  were 
discovered  in  Andr6's  stockings,  and  Paulding 
uttered  his  well-known  words,  '*By  God,  he  is 
a  spy!"  The  three  young  Americans  showed 
their  patriotism  by  refusing  all  bribes,  and, 
taking  their  prisoner  twelve  miles  up  the  river, 
they  delivered  him  over  to  Colonel  John  Jameson 
who  commanded  a  cavalry  outpost  at  North 
Castle.  Jameson  sent  the  doctmients  by  an 
express-rider  to  Washington,  but,  being  appar- 
ently of  a  credulous  nature,  he  did  not  suspect 
the  nature  of  the  situation,  and  sent  a  letter  to 
Arnold,  which  turned  out  to  be  the  means  of 


268  NortKipirard 

saving  the  traitor's  life.  Tallmadge  happening 
to  come  in,  Jameson  talked  over  the  matter 
with  him,  and  the  former  immediately  suspected 
that  Arnold  was  not  acting  as  he  should;  he 
wanted  the  letter,  giving  Arnold  information, 
recalled,  but  it  was  too  late. 

Arnold  and  his  wife  happened  to  be  entertain- 
ing Hamilton  and  a  party  at  breakfast  when  the 
letter  arrived;  he  opened  it,  and  read  Jameson's 
ingenuous  message,  that  ''one  John  Anderson 
had  been  taken  with  compromising  documents 
in  his  possession.'' 

Arnold  kept  his  presence  of  mind.  He  merely 
put  the  letter  in  his  pocket,  explained  that  he 
was  suddenly  called  across  the  river  and  would 
soon  return,  and  made  his  escape  immediately. 

But  Andr6  was  prisoner.  The  rest  of  his 
story  covered  but  a  short  period,  imtil  he  was 
hanged  as  a  spy  on  the  knoll  above  Tappan, 
on  the  west  side  of  the  river.  The  names  of  his 
three  captors  have  survived,  as  standing  for 
true  American  alertness,  force,  and  honesty. 

Irving  speaks  of  the  tree  which  used  to  stand 
at  the  spot  where  Andr6  was  taken,  and  of  the 
mournful  cries  and  wailings  heard,  and  the 
fimeral  trains  seen  by  the  superstitious  Dutch 
folk  of  Sleepy  Hollow. 

Pass  the  monument  and  continue  along  the 
old  post  road,  and  Sleepy  Hollow  itself  comes 
in  sight  at  last.     It  is  a  good  many  years  since 


IcKabod  Crane  269 

its  scribe  said  that  '*a  drowsy,  dreamy  influence 
seemed  to  hang  over  the  land/'  yet  the  ''listless 
repose  of  the  place"  is  just  the  same  to-day  that 
it  was  in  his  time — save  for  the  ubiquitous  honk 
of  the  motor-car.  Broadway  cuts  through  the 
sleepy  little  hollow,  and  where  Broadway  leads 
the  automobile  is  sure  to  go.  Except  for  its 
whirr  and  honk,  the  spot  still  slumbers  beside 
the  Pocantico  Creek. 

It  is  highly  probable  that  this  famous  vicinity 
is  better  known  to  the  purposeful  tourist  from 
remote  regions  than  it  is  to  the  average  New 
Yorker — ^just  because  he  has  always  lived  so 
near  it,  and  known  so  much  about  it  in  a  general 
way,  that  he  has  never  taken  the  pains  to  observe 
it  very  closely  with  his  own  eyes.  The  little 
churchyard  is  almost  ignored  by  the  motorist — 
he  hies  past  it  at  the  high-speed  limit  of  his 
gasolene  charger,  or  as  near  that  limit  as  he  dares, 
with  maybe  a  careless  observation  on  the  Ichabod 
Crane  legend.  The  pedestrian,  to  whom  gasolene 
is  merely  a  convenience  for  taking  out  spots, 
may  pause  and  observe;  but  the  pedestrian  is 
usually  of  the  immediate  vicinity.  A  catechism 
on  the  Sleepy  Hollow  localities  would  reveal  less 
ignorance  in  the  man  from  Ohio  or  the  traveling 
school-ma'am  from  Iowa  than  in  the  resident 
of  New  York,  or  I  lose  my  wager. 

Here  is  the  creek  beside  which  Ichabod  Crane 
rode  in  his  terrified  efforts  to  escape  the  pursuit 


270  NortK-ward 

of  the  Headless  Horseman.  And  here  the 
bridge — **  'If  I  can  but  reach  that  bridge/ 
thought  Ichabod,  *I  am  safe.'  "  "Just  beyond 
swells  the  green  knoll  on  which  stands  the  white- 
washed church."  Ichabod,  you  will  remember, 
heard  the  black  steed  panting  and  blowing  close 
behind  him;  he  gave  old  Gtmpowder  a  kick  in 
the  ribs,  and  the  horse  sprang  upon  the  bridge; 
immediately  thereafter  the  goblin  rose  in  his 
stirrups  and  threw  his  head  at  the  tmf ortimate 
schoolmaster. 

The  original  bridge  could  not  very  well  be 
standing  to-day,  as  it  was  a  crude  affair,  easily 
worn  away  by  time  and  water.  But  in  191 2  a 
handsome  new  bridge  crossing  the  Pocantico 
at  the  same  spot  was  dedicated,  a  memorial 
to  the  Sleepy  Hollow  tradition,  and  the  gift 
of  William  Rockefeller.  The  visitor  can  stand 
upon  it  and  gaze  up  the  same  slope  toward  the 
same  church — ^the  latter  has  suffered  no  change 
since  that  early  day,  and  in  it  services  are  still 
held.  The  building  was  called  ''a  monument  of 
bygone  days''  even  by  Irving,  for  it  had  been 
built  in  the  early  days  of  the  province,  and  the 
same  tablet  over  the  portal  is  as  he  described  it 
— ^bearing  the  names  of  the  church's  founders, 
Frederick  Filipson,  the  patroon  of  Yonkers,  and 
his  wife  Katrina  Van  Courtland,  of  the  Van 
Courtlands  of  Croton;  a  powerful  family  con- 
nection,  as  Irving  observes,    ''with  one  foot 


The  Old  Mill  at  Sleeps  Hollow     271 

resting  on  Spiting  Devil  Creek  and  the  other 
on  the  Croton  River.'' 

All  of  the  old  graves  cluster  close  around  the 
church.  Farther  up  the  slope  are  newer  ones, 
where  members  of  the  same  old  Dutch  families 
have  more  recently  been  interred.  Among  these 
is  the  grave  of  Washington  Irving. 

Tracing  the  creek  downward  a  short  distance 
from  the  church  bridge  one  comes  upon  the 
Philipse  Manor  house,  which  is  dated  earlier 
than  the  one  at  Yonkers,  as  the  family  lived 
first  in  the  upper  coimtry  and  later  moved  nearer 
to  New  York  City.  The  house  is  a  spreading 
white  building,  stretched  out  under  the  shade  of 
old  trees.  In  its  yard  is  one  of  the  old  wells  of 
which  Irving  spoke  as  characteristic  in  all  the 
Dutch  yards;  a  ''moss-covered  bucket  suspended 
to  the  long  balancing-pole,  according  to  ante- 
diluvian hydraulics/'  The  creek  makes  a  rather 
sharp  curve  near  the  kitchen  door,  and  here  are 
the  few  remaining  timbers  of  the  old  mill.  A 
section  of  one  wall  stands,  showing  a  suggestion 
of  door  and  windows.  Beside  it  is  a  pile  of  lum- 
ber, gray  from  weather-beating,  which  has  fallen 
from  the  other  walls. 

The  creek,  haunted  along  its  path  by  Indians 
in  early  days,  still  loses  itself  here  and  there  in  a 
green,  dark  tangle,  and  it  takes  no  more  than 
an  average  imagination  to  invest  the  spot  with 
all  the  mystery  and  romance  of  the  old  tales. 


272  Northward 

The  whole  place  slumbers;  the  only  sign  of 
energy  is  at  one  point,  just  below  the  bridge, 
where  a  montiment  cutter  diligently  plies  his 
trade. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  SAWMILL  RIVER  ROAD 

HTHE  old  Sawmill  River  Road  still  pursues 
-■-  much  the  same  course  up  into  Westchester 
Cotmty,  New  York,  that  it  did  in  the  days  when 
Washington  included  it  in  his  study  of  available 
routes  for  military  moves.  Tracing  the  course 
of  the  stream  for  which  it  was  named,  keeping  a 
bit  to  the  east  of  that  river,  it  zigzags  along 
through  meadows,  beside  country  estates,  and 
ferrets  out  some  of  the  most  picturesque  locali- 
ties in  the  whole  county,  not  forgetting  Elms- 
ford,  where  the  British  gtiide  hid  in  the  currant 
bushes,  and  the  Four  Corners  where  Betty 
Flanagan  mixed  that  historic  beverage,  her 
cocktail. 

The  road  to-day  is  stamped  on  an  automobile 
map  with  the  heavy  red  line  which  testifies 
to  its  excellence  for  man,  beast,  and  machine. 
Starting  from  Yonkers,  it  works  its  way  between 
the  Hudson  River  and  the  White  Plains  Road, 
skirting  the  Pocantico  Hills. 

A  saw-mill  which  the  old  Dutchman,  Van  der 
i8  273 


274  NortK-ward 

Donck,  long  ago  erected  on  this  Westchester 
County  stream,  gave  it  the  name  of  de  Zaag  kill, 
meaning  Sawmill  River.  ''Nepperan"  was  the 
Indian  name  for  the  river,  and  it  is  sometimes 
called  that  to  this  day. 

A  Mohican  village  originally  stood  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Nepperan.  Nappechemak  is 
given  as  the  first  name  of  the  village,  a  Mohican 
word  later  corrupted  into  Nepperan,  and  later 
giving  way  altogether  to  the  present  '*  Yonkers.'' 
The  Indians  had  a  strong  settlement  at  this 
point  when  something  significant  occurred. 
Hendrick  Hudson  sailed  up  the  Hudson  River. 
The  next  event  was  the  visiting  of  Dutch  traders 
in  his  wake,  and  following  this,  the  Dutch  West 
India  Company  made  settlements.  The  Indian 
days  were  already  over. 

Now,  in  1639,  came  Adrien  Van  der  Donck. 
He  was  a  lawyer  from  Holland.  He  is  described 
as  having  been  a  right  royal  spender — ^in  fact, 
quite  modern  as  to  his  way  of  holding  his  purse 
strings — ^and  as  "Lord  Van  der  Donck"  he  was 
known  to  all  the  country  round,  for  his  distinc- 
tion, his  enterprise,  and  his  lavishness.  ''The 
Jonkheer's  land,  "meaning  "Young  Lord's  land," 
came  to  be  the  name  of  the  village  which 
was  practically  his.  "The  Yonkers"  (Dutch 
"j"  being  "y")  was  a  natural  corruption,  and  it 
was  not  tmtil  well  into  the  Nineteenth  Century 
that  mere  "Yonkers"  was  accepted. 


THe  Nepperan  275 

Governor  Stuyvesant  and  the  young  lord 
were  far  from  friendly,  and  Van  der  Donck's 
desire  to  become  a  patroon,  forming  his  purchases 
of  1646  into  a  patroonship,  were  thwarted  for 
many  years.  In  1653,  however,  only  two  years 
before  his  death,  his  old  wish  was  gratified,  per- 
mitting him  to  be  known  to  posterity  as  the 
patroon  of  Yonkers.  His  saw-mill  was  the  pio- 
neer of  many  mills,  all  utilizing  the  sturdy  little 
Nepperan;  many  dams  came,  and  the  village 
eventually  grew  to  be  a  milling  city,  manufac- 
turing rugs  and  hats  as  well  as  the  carpets  for 
which  it  is  best  known.  Until  1892  the  stream 
was  continuously  used  for  these  mills,  but  the 
dams  at  last  came  to  be  considered  a  menace  to 
public  health,  and  the  authorities  broke  them. 
This  closed  a  chapter  in  the  working  life  of  the 
Sawmill  River. 

The  next  figure  of  prominence  in  the  story  of 
Yonkers,  following  Van  der  Donck,  was  Freder- 
ick Philipse.  '*The  Young  Lord's"  widow  had 
fallen  heir  to  the  land,  and  in  time  she  turned 
her  property  over  to  her  brother,  Elias  Doughty, 
who  broke  it  up  and  sold  it  in  sections  to  several 
persons.  Frederick  Philipse  was  one  of  these, 
and  he  was  so  ambitious  a  landowner  that  he 
set  about  acquiring  the  rest  of  the  land  and  more 
too,  going  as  far  as  the  Croton  River  with  his 
purchases.  The  English  called  Philipse  the 
'*  Dutch  millionaire,''  and  he  was  known  to  be 


276  NortK-ward 

the  wealthiest  man  in  the  colony.  He  was 
greatly  interested  in  contraband  and  piratical 
trade;  according  to  Jenkins,  "more  than  any 
other  merchant,  and  his  name  was  sent  to  Eng- 
land as  one  of  those  who  should  be  investigated. 
He  was  one  of  the  backers  of  Captain  Kidd  in 
Bellomont's  time,  and  it  is  stated  that  Lord 
Bellomont  remarked  that  4f  the  coffers  of 
Frederick  Philipse  were  searched.  Captain  Kidd's 
missing  treasures  could  easily  be  found.'  As 
a  result  of  Bellomont's  attempts  to  suppress  the 
'free'  trade,  Philipse  resigned  from  the  council 
and  retired  to  his  manor  about  1698  and  spent 
the  remaining  years  of  his  life  in  its  development. 
He  died  in  1702  at  the  age  of  seventy-six.'* 

Another  Frederick  Philipse,  his  grandson, 
succeeded  as  lord  of  the  manor,  and  this  lord's 
son.  Colonel  Frederick  Philipse,  followed  in  175 1. 
He  was  the  last  of  the  manor-lords.  He  was  a 
British  sjmipathizer  during  the  Revolutionary 
War,  and  his  estate  was  confiscated  in  1779  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  which  the  State  Legislature 
had  enacted  against  loyalists.  He  went  to  live 
in  England  and  was  there  reimbursed  for  the 
loss  of  his  possessions  to  the  amotmt  of  three 
htmdred  thousand  dollars. 

The  old  manor-house  is  to-day  preserved  for 
its  historic  value.  The  date  of  its  building  was 
1682,  and  the  original  house  is  a  portion  of  the 
present  one.    The  first  Philipse  erected  a  stone 


L-\jx\iry  of  tHe  PKilipse  Manor-House    277 

btiilding  which  was  used  as  a  trading  post  and 
mills.  The  second  Philipse  added  to  it  in  1745, 
and  the  structtire  of  to-day  was  the  restdt.  Jen- 
kins describes  the  house  as  magnificent  in  its 
day:  "Workmen  and  materials  were  imported 
from  England  especially  for  the  construction  of 
the  mansion;  and  the  elaborate  carvings  and 
workmanship  are  visible  to-day.  Every  kind  of 
available  tree  and  plant  that  would  grow  in  this 
climate  was  imported  and  planted  in  the  gardens, 
which  reached  down  to  the  bank  of  the  Hudson 
in  a  series  of  terraces.  Some  of  the  boxwood 
hedges  were  in  1830  ten  feet  high.  Every  per- 
son of  distinction  who  visited  the  province  was 
made  welcome  and  entertained  by  the  manor- 
lord.  In  the  attic  of  the  house,  so  it  was  said, 
there  were  quarters  for  fifty  household  servants 
alone ;  from  which  some  idea  may  be  gained  of  the 
lavish  scale  upon  which  these  great  landowners 
lived.  Besides  negro  slaves,  of  which  there  were 
very  few,  the  servants  and  employees  consisted 
of  bond-servants,  or  redemptioners.  But  these 
manor-lords  were  not  landowners  only;  they 
were  great  merchants  whose  ships  visited  all 
parts  of  the  world  with  which  the  navigation  laws 
permitted  them  to  trade  and  brought  back  the 
productions  of  every  clime.  Nor  did  they  al- 
ways obey  these  laws;  for  it  is  a  notorious  fact 
that  about  one  third  of  the  colonial  trade  was 
contraband,   and  that   the  great,   noble,   and 


278  North-ward 

wealthy  merchants  of  all  the  colonies  thought  it 
no  sin  to  cheat  the  king  of  his  revenue  whenever 
they  could  find  or  make  the  opportunity.  In 
addition  to  their  foreign  trade,  they  carried  on  a 
fur  trade  with  the  Indians  in  the  valley  of  the 
Mohawk  and  as  far  west  as  the  French  permitted 
them  to  go." 

The  famous  romance  of  the  old  house,  perhaps 
to  be  taken  with  a  grain  of  salt,  but  altogether 
too  charming  to  be  lost  from  our  illusions,  is 
connected  with  Mary  Philipse,  daughter  of  the 
manor  in  pre-Revolutionary  days.  Here  George 
Washington  first  met  her,  and  here,  tradition 
has  it,  his  first  love  restilted.  It  is  said  that  he 
grew  exceedingly  sentimental  on  the  subject  of 
the  beautiful  Mary,  and  that  when  he  had  to 
return  south,  to  his  plantation  in  Virginia,  he 
engaged  a  friend  in  Westchester  County  to  keep 
him  informed  of  his  fair  lady's  doings.  '*  Colonel 
Roger  Morris  is  pressing  his  suit!"  suddenly 
wrote  the  friend.  Just  why  Washington  let 
Colonel  Morris  carry  off  the  prize  is  vague 
in  history.  Some  say  that  he  did  seek  Mary 
Philipse's  hand  and  was  refused.  Others  claim 
that,  overpressed  by  affairs,  he  let  the  vivid 
colors  of  his  romance  fade.  At  any  rate  he  had 
immortalized  Mary  Philipse  by  falling  in  love 
with  her. 

The  confiscated  estates  of  Colonel  Philipse 
were  sold  in   1785,   and    thus  the  old  house 


Old  Headstones  in  Churchyard,  and  a  Corner  of  the  Sleepy  IIolloiv  Church. 


The  Old  Dutch  Church,  Elmsford,  Sister  to  the  Sleepy  Hollow  Church, 


The  Old  Door  of  St.  John's  Church,  Yonkers. 


The  Featherstone  House,  Elmsford,  where  Washington  and  Rochambeau  Conferred,  and 
where  the  British  Guide  Hid  in  the  Currant  Bushes, 


St.  John's  CKurcH,  YonKers         279 

passed  on  to  the  possession  of  Cornelius  P.  Low. 
Lemuel  Wells  was  the  next  owner,  and  when 
he  died  intestate  his  widow  and  heirs  divided 
the  land  into  lots  which  were  sold  under  the 
orders  of  the  Chancery  Court. 

It  was  Frederick  Philipse,  2d,  father  of  Miss 
Mary,  who  built  the  stone  church  of  St.  John 
about  the  middle  of  the  Eighteenth  Century  as 
a  sort  of  thank-offering  for  his  well-prospered 
life.  Its  successor  is  a  large  Protestant  Episco- 
pal Church,  facing  on  Getty  Square.  For  many 
years  the  original  church  remained,  a  fine  relic 
of  colonial  architecture;  it  was  not  until  1870 
that  the  present  building  was  erected  in  its  place. 
The  new  building  is  spacious  and  handsome, 
with  a  fine  brass  pulpit,  a  carved  font  of  Italian 
marble,  and  several  good  windows.  The  archi- 
tecture is  Gothic.  A  portion  of  the  old  wall  is 
included  in  the  south  side  of  the  modem  build- 
ing and  can  be  readily  picked  out  to-day,  along 
with  one  of  the  ancient,  low,  arched  doors. 

The  second  manor-lord  acquired  his  Church  of 
England  training  from  a  devout  English  mother 
who  brought  him  up  in  Barbados.  His  grand- 
father, the  first  Frederick  PhiHpse,  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church;  hence,  only 
by  this  accident  of  the  English  mother's  affilia- 
tions, did  the  church  of  St.  John  come  into 
existence.  For  a  while  it  did  not  sustain  its  own 
clergyman,  but  depended  upon  monthly  visits 


28o  NortH-ward 

from  the  rector  of  St.  Peter's  at  Westchester. 
The  first  building  was  put  up  in  1752,  and  after 
the  second  manor-lord's  death  his  son,  Colonel 
Philipse,  secured  a  glebe  to  the  church,  carrying 
on  his  father's  work.  But  until  1787  it  remained 
a  .mission.  After  1764,  it  had  certain  ministers 
of  its  own,  whom  the  Propagation  Society  in 
London  furnished  to  it;  the  second  of  these, 
Luke  Babcock,  was  involved  in  Revolutionary 
events  to  the  extent  of  being  captured  by  a 
party  of  raiders  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  for 
having  been  over-zealous  in  the  king's  cause. 
The  affair  was  most  cruel,  and  the  clergyman 
died  from  the  effects  of  the  brutal  treatment  he 
received. 

George  Panton  succeeded  to  Babcock's  labors; 
but  the  Revolution  caused  his  work  to  be  most 
discouraging  as  well  as  involving  him  in  consid- 
erable danger.  The  building  was  burned  in 
1 79 1,  but  the  next  year  saw  it  rebuilt,  and  this 
second  edifice  remained  until  1870. 

^ne  of  Yonkers'  most  interesting  modem 
buildings  is  Hollywood  Inn,  also  at  Getty  Squar^ 
William  F.  Cochran  built  it  and  presented  it 
to  the  workingmen  of  the  city,  to  be  to  them 
a  club-house,  unsectarian,  a  place  where  men 
could  always  find  recreation  and  instruction  in 
their  idle  hours  without  question  of  creed  or 
money.  '  It  is  said  to  be  the  pioneer  working- 
men's  club  in  the  United  States,  and  it  has  been 


Literatuire  in  YoxiKers  281 

studied  and  copied  by  other  similar  institutions 
all  over  the  country. 

Jenkins  suggests  a  theory  that  something  in 
the  atmosphere  of  Yonkers  creates  humor,  call- 
ing attention  to  its  noted  humorists.  ''Flora 
McFlimsey  of  Madison  Square,"  that  famous 
lady  of  a  generation  ago  who  was  afflicted  by 
having  nothing  to  wear,  emanated  from  the  pen 
of  William  Allen  Butler  of  Yonkers.  "Eli  Per- 
kins,'' whose  name  in  real  life  was  Melville  D. 
Landon,  lived  and  died  there.  Frederick  S. 
Cozzens,  author  of  the  ''Sparrow  Grass  Papers" 
published  in  Putnam's  Monthly ,  made  his  home 
there,  and  among  present-day  humorists  the 
town  lays  claim  to.  John  Kendrick  Bangs. 
Others  distinguished  in  letters,  though  not 
humorists,  were  Mrs.  E.  D.  E.  N.  Southworth 
and  Dr.  Dio  Lewis. 

(£rom  Yonkers  the  old  Sawmill  River  Road 
leads  you  northward  toward  Ardsley,  and  just 
beyond  this  you  come  upon  the  historic  house 
known  as  the  Rochambeau  headquartergj  It  is 
now  the  residence  of  the  Odell  family  and  is 
in  excellent  preservation.  Here,  not  far  from 
Dobbs  Ferry  which  is  so  closely  associated  with 
his  name,  that  distinguished  Count,  Jean  Bap- 
tiste  Donatien  de  Vimeur,  made  a  brief  home 
during  the  stressftd  times  in  which  he  aided  our 
country.  It  was  in  1 780  that  he  came  to  America 
with  a  strong  force,  assisted  in  the  capture  of 


282  NoHhward 

Cornwallis  at  Yorktown,  and  remained  several 
months  in  America,  returning  home  to  be  raised 
to  the  rank  of  field-marshal  by  Loiiis  XVI. 

Still  farther  up  the  road  we  come  to  the  pic- 
turesque old  town  of  Elmsford,  formerly  known 
by  the  names  of  Greenbtirgh  and  Hall's  Corners. 
On  one  of  the  old  maps  the  spot  appears  to  be 
indicated  by  the  word  ''Tavern/'  and  a  mile  or 
two  to  the  north  we  find  another  ''Tavern." 
The  latter  was  probably  the  Four  Comers,  a 
place  which  figured  to  a  considerable  extent  in 
Revolutionary  doings. 

Col.  J.  C.  L.  Hamilton,  great-grandson  of 
Alexander  Hamilton,  is  a  resident  of  Elmsford 
and  has  in  his  possession  many  relics  of  the  war 
period  in  that  vicinity.  Cornelius  Van  Tassel 
was  his  great-grandfather  on  the  maternal  side, 
and  he  still  preserves  the  andirons  brought  from 
the  old  Dutch  home  of  the  Van  Tassels.  He  has, 
too,  the  pewter  basin  which  has  figured  in  so 
many  tales  of  the  capture  of  Andr6.  Some  say 
that  the  young  British  officer  ate  his  bread  and 
milk  from  it  on  the  day  of  his  capture;  Colonel 
Hamilton's  opinion,  however,  is  that  he  had 
but  slight  appetite  for  bread  and  milk. 

Down  the  co\mtry  road  below  the  Hamilton 
residence  stood  the  home  of  Cornelius  Van 
Tassel.  It  was  here  he  lived  at  the  time  that  he 
was  captured  by  the  British  and  taken  to  the 
old  Sugar  House  Prison.    The  British  and  Tories 


Capture  of  Cornelius  Van  Tassel    283 

had  already  been  making  much  disttirbance 
thereabouts  and  Van  Tassel's  dwelling,  being  a 
very  good  one  for  that  period,  caught  their  fancy 
for  destruction.  But  although  that  building 
perished,  there  was  soon  a  new  one  to  replace  it 
on  the  same  site,  and  the  second,  now  ancient  in 
its  turn,  stands  to-day.  It  is  in  good  preserva- 
tion and  is  an  excellent  example  of  the  architec- 
ture of  the  Sleepy  Hollow  school. 

After  the  original  house  had  been  burned,  and 
Van  Tassel  carried  off  prisoner,  his  wife  hid  in 
an  earth  cellar.  It  was  a  few  nights  after  the 
disaster  that  she  heard  the  sound  of  hoofs,  and 
thought  the  British  were  coming  again.  But 
suddenly  she  recognized  a  familiar  whinny,  and 
peered  out  to  see,  silhouetted  in  the  night,  her 
pet  horse  which  had  been  driven  off  by  the  enemy 
and  was  now  returning  to  his  beloved  home.  It 
is  said  that  she  ran  out  from  the  cellar,  threw  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  and  kissed  him.  His 
comradeship  became  a  great  comfort  in  her 
loneliness;  for  eleven  months  and  eleven  days 
Van  Tassel  remained  a  prisoner. 

Back  in  the  center  of  Elmsford  you  will  find 
a  small  bridge  where  the  river  intersects  the 
main  street — ^the  Sawmill  River.  This  modem 
structure  is  at  the  very  spot  where  the  old  Storm's 
Bridge  used  to  stand.  Washington,  coming  south 
down  the  Sawmill  Road  with  Rochambeau,  was 
met  at  this  bridge  upon  one  occasion  by  his 


284  NortK-ward 

quartermaster.  ''You  cannot  go  further/'  was 
the  message  which  halted  him.  ''The  British 
are  coming  just  below.''  This  was  a  surprise 
to  the  Chief  who  had  laid  plans  that  did  not 
harmonize  with  a  British  encampment  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  thereupon  he  and  Rocham- 
beau  rode  on  to  the  " Featherstone  House,"  as 
it  is  now  called,  to  hold  conference.  This  house 
was  much  used  by  Washington  when  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  you  will  find  it  little  changed 
to-day. 

It  stands  a  short  distance  down  the  road  which 
leads  off  southeast  from  the  main  street  opposite 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  The  present  owner 
apologizes  for  not  having  rebuilt  it,  his  inten- 
tions being  to  put  up  a  new  porch  and  a  mansard, 
"bring  it  up  to  date";  fortunately  we  have  this 
relic  almost  intact.  Preserved  in  its  cellar  are 
some  interesting  old  rafters  of  solid  black  wal- 
nut. Roof,  windows,  and  doors  and  weather- 
beaten  walls  are  delightfully  ancient,  but  a 
thorough  system  of  electric  lighting  throughout 
the  house  leads  one  to  reflect  upon  what  Wash- 
ington would  say  to  this  substitute  for  his  candle. 

There  is  a  well  in  the  yard  whose  age  is  not 
vouched  for,  but  the  probability  is  that  it  is 
very  old,  possibly  a  relic  of  the  Revolutionary 
period.  The  owner  of  the  house  says  that  the 
late  Mr.  Jacob  Iselin  of  New  Rochelle  was  par- 
ticularly fond  of  its  waters,  and  had  never  ridden 


Tradition  of  tHe  Currant  BusKes    285 

Elmsford-way  for  fifty  years  without  stopping 
for  a  drink.  It  is  quite  likely  that  Washington 
and  Rochambeau  tested  its  moss-covered  bucket. 

It  was  in  the  currant  bushes  then  surrounding 
this  house  that  Jim  Husted,  the  British  guide, 
hid  in  1777.  The  Americans  had  been  having 
a  little  skirmish  with  the  British  near  by,  and 
the  latter  had  been  well  trounced — Barrymore, 
the  leader,  and  all  his  men  being  taken,  it  was 
supposed.  Not  for  a  long  time  was  it  discovered 
that  Husted  had  escaped,  saving  himself  in  the 
depths  of  these  ctirrant  bushes. 

Returning  to  the  main  street,  you  will  find 
the  old  church  barely  a  block  below  it,  to  the 
south,  near  the  railroad  track.  Next  to  it  stands 
the  pastor's  house  in  which  is  kept  the  ancient 
key,  which  opens  the  church  by  grinding  and 
groaning  rheumatically  in  the  ancient  lock. 

In  1788  the  church  is  supposed  to  have  been 
built,  although  the  loss  of  its  records  leaves  a 
cloud  hanging  about  its  earliest  history.  Within 
and  without  it  is  typical  of  the  severity  of  that 
period,  when  American  settlers  built  their  houses 
of  worship  for  worship  alone.  The  old-time 
gallery  and  bare  walls  are  as  they  have  always 
been.  The  church-going  of  the  seventeen-hun- 
^dreds  cost  an  effort.  The  Rev.  Thomas  Smith 
traveled  all  the  way  from  Sleepy  Hollow  to  hold 
regtdar  services  here,  and  the  farmers  flocked 
from  long  distances  to  pray.    Thus  this  parish 


286  NortH^ward 

was  linked  with  that  famous  Dutch  Church 
above  Tarrytown,  which  calls  up  all  the  Irving 
tradition  by  its  mere  name. 

Many  an  old  record  may  be  read  on  the  crumb- 
ling stones.  Here  are  seen  such  familiar  names 
as-  ''Van  Tassel/'  ''Romer,"  and  "Van  Wart." 
Among  the  modem  stones  is  a  montiment  erected 
to  the  memory  of  Isaac  Van  Wart  by  the  County 
of  Westchester.  The  inscription  reminds  you 
that  in  September,  1780,  ''Isaac  Van  Wart,  ac- 
companied by  John  Paulding  and  David  Wil- 
liams, all  farmers  in  the  county,  intercepted 
Major  Andr6  on  his  return  from  the  American 
lines  in  the  character  of  a  spy,  and,  notwith- 
standing the  large  bribes  offered  them  for  his 
release,  nobly  disdained  to  sacrifice  their  cotmtry 
for  gold,  secured  and  carried  him  to  the  com- 
mander of  the  district  whereby  the  dangerous 
and  traitorous  conspiracy  of  Andr6  was  brought 
to  light,  the  insidious  designs  of  the  enemy  baf- 
fled, the  American  army  saved,  and  our  beloved 
country,  now  free  and  independent,  rescued  from 
most  imminent  peril."  Fenced  in  with  Van 
Wart's  monument  is  a  little  slab  snuggling 
quaintly  at  its  base.  It  marks  the  grave  of  his 
wife,  Rachel  Storm  Van  Wart. 

Fronting  on  the  main  street  of  the  village 
stands  the  Ledger  House,  considerably  changed 
since  the  days  when  Abraham  Storm,  the  origi- 
nator of  Storm's  Bridge,  built  it,  but  nevertheless 


The  Old  Four  Corners  287 

the  same  fundamentally.  Storm  was  a  captain, 
and  an  active  American  from  the  beginning 
of  the  Revolution.  He  built  his  house  on  this 
site,  saw  it  burned  by  the  British,  except  a  part 
which  he  saved,  and  rebuilt  upon  what  was  left 
so  that  the  present  hostelry  is  made  up  of  both 
buildings. 

On  past  the  Ledger  House,  the  road  leads 
eastward  to  White  Plains.  It  is  not  the  same 
as  the  original  White  Plains  Road,  though  near 
it.  It  was  up  the  old  road,  parallel  to  this,  that 
the  quartermaster  found  the  French  had  marched 
when  he  went  back  to  the  bridge  at  Washing- 
ton's command  to  stop  them,  and  order  them  to 
camp  here  for  the  night.  There  is  a  theory  that 
they  may  not  have  understood  the  command 
in  English,  at  any  rate  they  marched  on  east- 
ward while  Washington  and  Rochambeau,  in  the 
Featherstone  house,  were  laying  other  plans  for 
them.  The  heat  was  such  as  they  had  never 
before  endured,  and  four  hundred  of  them  were 
overcome.  They  were  taken  to  the  French 
hospital,  a  building  now  standing,  somewhat 
south  of  the  trolley  line  leading  to  White  Plains. 

To  the  north  of  Elmsford  was  the  old  Pour 
Comers,  lying  on  the  road  that  led  from  Sleepy 
Hollow  to  what  is  now  North  White  Plains,  at 
the  point  where  this  road  intersected  the  Sawmill 
River  Road.  At  present  there  is  not  a  landmark 
left  except  for  the  old  schoolhouse  on  the  site 


288  Northward 

where  Patdding  went  to  school  in  the  original 
building.     The  Patilding  farm  adjoined  it. 

But  a  century  and  more  ago  this  was  a  most 
active  locality.  At  the  Pour  Comers  stood  the 
home  of  Joseph  Young,  and  the  American  troops 
found  his  dwelling  a  convenient  place  to  make 
headquarters.  Accordingly  they  came  there 
and  remained  there,  the  commanders  living  in 
the  house  and  the  soldiers  occupying  the  many 
outbuildings  as  barracks.  Military  stores  and 
provisions  were  hoarded  there. 

From  August  of  1776  to  February  of  1780  the 
Americans  were  quartered  here  much  of  the 
time,  and  many  were  the  skirmishes  in  and  about 
the  old  Four  Comers.  At  one  time  Captain 
Williams  of  the  American  army  and  his  forty  men 
were  attacked  by  British  refugees.  The  Captain, 
a  party  of  soldiers,  and  Joseph  Young  himself, 
were  taken  prisoners.  For  a  year  Young  was 
confined  in  New  York  City,  while  his  bam  up 
at  the  Four  Comers  was  burned  by  the  British 
and  a  large  stock  of  his  cattle  stolen.  Later,  a 
petition  of  Martha,  Samuel,  and  Thomas  Young 
recorded  the  fact  that  in  February,  1780,  there 
was  an  attack  on  the  post  by  one  thousand 
British  troops  and  refugees,  and  "all  the  cloth- 
ing, bedding  and  furniture  of  said  Joseph  Young 
destroyed  at  that  inclement  season  of  the  year." 

This  region  is  closely  associated  in  tradition 
with  Fenimore   Cooper  and  his  ''Westchester 


M«   N'  ;«ii  b!  ifi  "1 

•   li    I  'I  HI  i  ii  I  1}     I 


The  Phi! ipse  Mail  or  at  Yonkers. 


Washington 's  Headquarters  during  Battle  of  White  Plains.     A  t  North  White  Plains. 


A   Mortar   Used  at  the  Battle  of  White  Plains. 


The  Old  Inn  at  Scarsdale,  where  Drovers  Used  to  Stop  in  Revolutionary  Days.      This 
Was  also  the  Stopping-Place  for  the  Old  Mail  Coach. 


Betty  Flanagan's  CocKtail  289 

Spy."  Here  the  tale  was  laid,  the  site  of  the 
hamlet  of  the  Fotir  Corners  was  the  stage  of  the 
drama.  According  to  Bolton,  a  little  west  of 
the  Van  Wart  residence  stood  the  '*  Hotel  Flan- 
agan, a  place  of  refuge  for  man  and  beast.'' 
The  sign  ''Elizabeth  Flanagan,  Her  Hotel," 
hung  before  it.  Betty  Flanagan  lived,  after  her 
soldier  husband  had  fallen  for  his  cotmtry,  by 
driving  a  cart  to  various  military  encampments 
and  serving  refreshments.  At  this  time  the  Vir- 
ginia Cavalry  happened  to  be  making  the  Four 
Corners  their  headquarters,  so  Betty  had  brought 
her  cart  hither,  and  here  she  was  stationed  when 
the  lawless  Skinners  dragged  in  the  peddler  Spy. 
Perhaps  the  most  interesting  item  recorded 
in  the  history  of  Betty  is  that  ''she  is  said  to 
have  invented  the  well-known  beverage  vulgarly 
called  'cocktail.'  " 
19 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WITH  THE  POST  TO  WHITE  PLAINS 

T  EADING  into  the  heart  of  Westchester 
*-'  County  was  the  old  White  Plains  Road. 
Along  this  route  the  mail  was  carried,  at  its  inns 
the  stagecoach  stopped,  its  dust  was  raised  by 
the  tramp  of  Howe's  army.  Perhaps  children 
crept  forth,  half  hiding,  from  some  wayside 
farmhouse  to  watch  the  redcoats  pass;  perhaps 
a  frightened  calf  flung  up  its  heels  and  galloped 
off  into  the  fields;  perhaps  a  farmer  warned  his 
wife  to  hide  her  fresh-baked  loaves. 

This  road  is  still  a  highway,  and  may  be  fol- 
lowed to-day.  From  Bronxdale  it  passes  north 
through  Olinville,  Wakefield,  and  Mount  Vernon. 
For  a  space  it  unites  with  the  old  Boston  Road; 
McTeague's  Comers  was  the  name  of  the  point 
where  the  two  met.  They  continued  as  one  from 
Williamsbridge  north,  until,  at  the  head  of  Black 
Dog  Brook,  the  Boston  Road  asserted  its  inde- 
pendence and  made  toward  Eastchester. 

White  Plains  Avenue  of  the  present  is  equiv- 
alent in  a  general  way  to  the  old  highway,  al- 

290 


"TxirKey  Hollow  ••  291 

though  it  is  inclined  to  keep  a  trifle  to  the  west 
of  the  original  line.  At  some  places  it  follows 
exactly  in  the  earlier  path.  Beyond  Bronxville, 
we  shall  find  the  Post  Road  marked,  and  a  mile- 
stone at  Scarsdale  bears  witness  to  the  present 
road's  integrity. 

On  the  west  of  the  road  lies  the  town  of  Tucka- 
hoe.  Bolton  tells  the  story  of  an  early  driver  of 
a  market  wagon  who  used  to  come  down  this 
valley,  famous  for  its  wild  turkeys,  shouting 
''Turkey,  ho!"  as  he  reached  the  village. 
The  name  of  the  place  was  really  formed  from 
an  Algonquin  word  meaning  ''the  bread,"  but 
there  were  formerly  many  jokes  in  circulation, 
playing  upon  the  resemblance  of  "Tuckahoe" 
to  "Turkey  Hollow." 

Here  before  you  are  the  Tuckahoe  Heights 
where  Washington's  advance  corps  lay  during 
that  throbbing  week  which  culminated  in  the 
Battle  of  White  Plains.  Two  thousand  men 
under  General  Scott  waited  here. 

Scarsdale  is  beyond.  Beautiful  Scarsdale  of 
to-day  is  connected  in  our  minds  with  suburban 
ease;  but  it  had  a  yesterday,  and  at  times  a 
strenuous  one.  Settling  America  once  upon  a 
time  was  no  easy  task..  The  Heathcote  and 
the  Tompkins  families  were  among  those  who 
created  the  town. 

Several  very  old  buildings  are  to  be  seen  here- 
abouts, well-preserved  types  of  former  days. 


292  NortKi^ard 

One  of  these  fronts  directly  on  the  Post  Road: 
a  long,  low  brown  house,  flanked  by  a  broad 
lawn,  quaintly  gabled  and  touched  with  moss. 
This  was  the  wayside  inn  of  pre-Revolutionary 
days,  the  well-known  and  much-patronized 
hostelry  where  the  drovers  stopped  for  refresh- 
ment on  their  way  from  the  West — ^meaning 
Ohio — ^into  New  York.  The  mail  coach,  too, 
stopped  here  regularly.  There  is  a  story  con- 
nected with  the  place:  it  is  said  that  the  man 
who  owned  it  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  upon 
hearing  that  the  British  approached,  hurried  to 
hide  in  the  cellar  his  two  most  precious  posses- 
sions, namely  his  Bible  and  his  cow.  He  himself 
hid  in  the  secret  chamber.  The  old  doors  still 
show  marks  supposed  to  have  been  made  by  the 
enemy's  sabres,  for  the  house  was  besieged,  but 
the  Bible  and  the  cow  came  through  the  siege 
safely. 

Near  this  building  stands  one  of  the  original 
milestones,  carefully  preserved  by  a  bowlder 
which  protects  it  from  wind  and  weather.  Al- 
ready the  inscription  on  the  old  red  stone  is  all 
but  erased  by  time.     The  date  given  is  1771. 

The  Saxon  origin  of  the  town's  name,  from 
the  word  ''scarrs,"  meaning  ''ccags,"  is  a  ''dale 
enclosed  with  rocks;"  h'he  Heathcote  family 
brought  the  name  from  their  own  Derbyshire., 
The  town  has  boasted  many  distinguished  in- 
habitants in  its  time:   Daniel   D.   Tompkins, 


ToxnpKixls's  Escape  293 

Vice-President  of  the  United  States,  was  born 
here  in  1774.  Fenimore  Cooper  lived  in  a 
''chateau"  here  once  upon  a  time,  a  building 
which  has  unfortunately  been  demolished.  In 
The  Spy  Cooper  treated  of  this  locality.  It  was 
included  in  the  ''  Neutral  Ground ''  which  formed 
the  stage  setting  of  the  many  ''Cowboy''  and 
''  Skinner ''  dramas. 

Scarsdale  was  well  populated  with  Tories 
during  the  Revolutionary  period — indeed  it  has 
been  said  that  only  three  families  of  patriots 
lived  here,  although  this  may  have  been  an  ex- 
aggeration of  the  Toryism  of  the  place.  How- 
ever, its  sympathies  were  chiefly  with  the  British, 
and  Judge  Caleb  Tompkins,  one  of  the  patriots, 
suffered  great  discomfort  from  a  situation  into 
which  his  loyalty  to  the  American  cause  forced 
him.  In  fact,  it  became  necessary  for  him  to 
leave  his  own  house,  and  flee  for  his  life  from  the 
British,  probably  doubting  whether  he  should 
ever  see  Scarsdale  again.  He  loaded  an  ox-cart 
with  all  the  household  goods  he  could  gather 
together  for  speedy  departure,  and  fled.  Just 
northeast  of  White  Plains  was  a  swamp;  upon 
reaching  this,  he  found  the  enemy  in  such  close 
pursuit  that  there  was  no  use  fleeing  farther. 
He  therefore  abandoned  his  cattle  and  sent  them 
into  the  woods  near  Kensico.  He  next  hid 
himself  by  entering  the  swamp  and  walking  out 
in  it  to  such  a  depth  that  only  his  head  remained 


294  NortH-ward 

above  the  water.  The  restilt  was  that  he  made 
his  escape,  and  returned  happily  to  his  Scarsdale 
home. 

The  tract  of  land  which  included  Scarsdale 
was  ceded  by  its  owners,  the  Mohicans,  to  John 
Richbell,  in  the  year  1660.  Richbell  is  supposed 
to  have  been  the  first  white  man  to  settle  in  the 
town.  The  Indian  district  called  ''Quaroppas'' 
lay  hereabouts,  and  the  tract  was  a  portion  of 
it.  The  land  was  finely  wooded,  and  the  eastern 
angle  of  the  town  later  on  came  to  be  known 
as  the  ''Saxon  Forest,''  which  name  came  from 
William  Saxon,  the  proprietor  of  a  saw-mill. 
Gradually  the  forest  was  cleared,  but  even  in 
the  time  of  Bolton's  writing,  it  ''abounded  with 
foxes,  rabbits  and  other  wild  game,  and  retained 
much  of  its  ancient  grandeur." 

To  the  northwest  of  the  Post  Road  lies  a  high 
ridge.  Along  this  ridge  the  two  British  generals, 
Clinton  and  De  Heister,  led  their  men  on  the 
eventful  twenty-eighth  of  October  in  1776. 
Now  we  are  in  the  thick  of  preliminaries;  ap- 
proaching White  Plains,  we  picture  the  various 
approaches  of  the  soldiers  along  different  paths, 
all  converging  toward  the  historic  town. 

Hartsdale,  on  our  way,  known  to  the  present 
as  an  attractive  residence  town,  was  one  of  twin 
villages — Hartsdale  and  Hart's  Corners.  Across 
the  Bronx  from  its  peaceful  boundaries  one  of 
the  Revolutionary  skirmishes  took  place.    This 


Covirt  House  at  White  Plains        295 

happened  only  a  few  hours  before  the  Battle  of 
White  Plains,  when  the  troops  of  both  sides  were 
on  their  way  to  the  greater  conflict  which  took 
place  on  Chatterton's  Hill. 

Its  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  had  the  dis- 
tinction of  being  organized,  and  the  building 
erected,  '4n  1832,  during  the  first  cholera 
season/'  Into  this  organization  was  absorbed 
a  small  church  which  stood  to  the  north,  at  the 
Rocks  of  Scilly. 

White  Plains,  the  county  seat  after  1759,  was 
the  destination  of  the  old  road.  Well  in  the 
center  of  town  is  the  site  of  the  first  court-house. 
Follow  Railroad  Avenue  to  South  Broadway, 
turn  to  the  right  along  the  latter  street,  and  at 
the  intersection  of  Mitchell  Place  you  will  find 
the  site.  The  present  building  is  the  town's 
armory;  in  front  of  this  stands  a  monument 
surmounted  by  a  broad-winged  eagle,  and 
bearing  this  inscription: 

''Site  of  the  County  Cotut  House  where,  on 
July  10,  1776,  the  Provincial  Congress  pro- 
claimed the  passing  of  the  dependent  colony 
and  the  birth  of  the  independent  State  of  New 
York." 

The  first  court-house  was  erected  here  in  1759, 
upon  the  removal  of  the  courts  from  Westchester. 
In  1760  the  first  Cotirt  of  Common  Pleas  as- 
sembled here,  on  May  27th.  The  building  was 
burned,  but  the  second  and  third  were  erected 


296  NortK-ward 

on  the  site  of  the  first.  It  was  here  that  the 
Whigs  of  the  county  of  Westchester  appointed 
to  meet  the  committees  of  the  several  towns,  that 
they  might  elect  deputies  to  the  Continental 
Congress,  who  were  to  assemble  on  the  first  of 
September,  1774,  in  Philadelphia. 

General  Nathaniel  Woodhull,  the  same  brave 
soldier  whose  capture  we  traced  at  HoUis,  on 
Long  Island,  was  at  the  head  of  the  Provincial 
Congress  and  highly  honored  as  its  President. 
So  not  only  in  that  old  tavern  where  De  Lancey's 
major  attacked  him  for  refusing  to  say,  ''God 
save  the  King!''  but  here  in  old  Westchester 
County,  we  are  reminded  of  his  services  to  his 
country. 

Dr.  Robert  Graham,  a  young  physician  who 
came  to  White  Plains  from  Connecticut,  was  a 
most  public-spirited  man  and  ambitious  for  his 
adopted  town.  It  was  largely  through  his  efforts 
that  the  court-house  was  built  here,  and  the 
courts  removed  from  Westchester.  The  land 
upon  which  the  building  was  erected  was  his 
gift  to  the  county. 

No  sooner  had  this  change  taken  place  than 
White  Plains  became  a  bustling  center  of  busi- 
ness. Two  hotels  sprang  into  being,  with  almost 
the  haste  displayed  in  a  mushroom  town  of  the 
West.  Visitors  came  to  town,  in  great  ntimbers 
for  those  days,  and  the  hotels  drove  a  brisk 
trade.    A  country  store  was  needed,  and  Dr. 


C5 
Oh 


^ 


CO  ^ 


.s  -S  ^ 


pp  N 


8  ^^ 


The  Disbrow  Chimney  at  Mamaroneck,  where  Cooper's 
^'  Spy''  is  Said  to  have  Hidden. 


The  Monument  to  Early  Huguenots,  at  their  Landing  Place,  Bonnefoi 
Point,  New  Rochelle, 


The  White  Balsam  297 

Graham  himself  built  one.  It  stood  opposite 
the  court-house,  and  came  to  be  the  sort  of  social 
center  which  the  country  store  has  always  been 
from  that  day  to  this — ^the  men's  club  of  the 
hamlet,  the  headquarters  in  which  gossip  and 
spicy  tales  may  be  exchanged,  business  deals 
discussed  and  consummated,  woes  poured  forth 
into  sympathetic  ears,and  congratulations  offered 
on  such  occasions  as  a  good  trade  in  live  stock, 
the  news  of  a  fat  legacy,  or  the  arrival  of  a  pair 
of  plvimp  and  lively  twins. 

White  Plains  (so  named  from  the  white  bal- 
sam which  grew  all  over  the  region  in  early  days) 
is  associated  in  every  mind  with  one  of  the 
British  and  American  struggles  which  preceded 
the  fall  of  Fort  Washington.  To  trace  the  his- 
tory of  the  battle  one  must  go  to  North  White 
Plains,  a  distance  of  about  a  mile  from  the 
original  town.  One  can  go  by  train,  but  the  walk 
is  delightful,  along  Broadway  with  its  sweeps 
of  green  lawn  and  fine  old  residences  standing 
far  back  from  the  street.  About  half-way  be- 
tween the  two  towns  is  the  old  mortar,  pre- 
served from  the  days  of  1776. 

The  situation  in  September  of  that  year  was 
like  this.  The  Americans  were  strongly  en- 
trenched upon  Harlem  Heights,  and  Howe  de- 
cided that  his  only  means  of  making  trouble 
would  be  to  get  in  their  rear  and  hem  them  in 
upon  the  head  of  the  island  of  Manhattan. 


298  NortHuvard 

Leaving  some  of  his  army  under  Lord  Percy, 
he  took  the  rest,  embarked  them  upon  ninety 
flatboats,  and  contrived  to  get  through  the 
dangerous  passing  of  Hell  Gate,  landing  upon 
Throg's  Neck. 

''A  few  days  afterward,"  says  Lossing,  "other 
troops  from  Montressor's  Island  and  Flushing 
landed  there;  and  on  the  twenty-second,  Knyp- 
hausen,  with  the  second  division  of  German 
hirelings,  just  arrived  at  New  York,  landed 
upon  Myers'  Point,  now  Davenport's  Neck, 
near  New  Rochelle/' 

The  British  now  had  a  good  position  along  the 
shore.  Washington,  perceiving  the  movement, 
sent  General  Heath  with  strong  detachments  to 
oppose  the  enemy's  landing  and  occupy  lower 
Westchester.  A  redoubt  was  thrown  up  near 
Williamsbridge;  all  passes  to  Kingsbridge  were 
well  guarded,  and  now  entrenchments  were 
made  at  White  Plains  by  a  detachment  there. 
Colonel  Hand  and  his  riflemen  guarded  the  cause- 
ways to  Throg's  Neck  and  Pell's  Neck.  Howe 
landed,  and  on  the  same  night  he  found  himself 
upon  an  island,  the  bridge  having  been  removed. 

He  first  laid  the  blame  upon  some  Tories  who 
were  acting  as  guides,  but  ascertained  the  truth 
later  and  realized  that  his  best  course  was  to 
decamp,  Colonel  Hand  having  driven  him  back 
from  the  causeway  with  the  assistance  of  Pres- 
cott  and  Lieutenant  Bryant.    Returning  to  his 


"CroucHed  as  a  Ti^er'*  299 

boats,  he  made  his  way  to  Pell's  Point,  later  to 
New  Rochelle,  and  finally  took  a  position  near 
Knyphausen.  This,  then,  was  the  position  of 
the  British  that  Washington  looked  forth  upon: 
they  were  established  upon  the  mainland;  and 
with  his  army  weak  in  training,  and  cold  weather 
approaching,  he  had  little  to  reinforce  his 
hopes.  "A  powerful  enemy,  well  provided,  was 
crouched  as  a  tiger  within  cannon-voice,  ready 
to  spring  upon  its  prey/' 

Washington  called  a  council  of  war  at  General 
Lee's  headquarters,  and  it  was  decided  to  aban- 
don the  island  of  Manhattan.  The  main  part 
of  the  American  army  was  now  sent  forward, 
marching  in  four  divisions  up  the  west  side 
of  the  Bronx  River  and  forming  a  series  of 
entrenched  camps  up  to  White  Plains,  all  the 
way  from  Fordham. 

Parallel  to  them  farther  east,  the  British 
forces  also  moved  north.  Frequent  skirmishes 
now  took  place.  The  fact  that  the  Americans 
came  out  triumphant  in  most  of  these  miniature 
frays,  gave  them,  no  doubt,  greater  heart  for  the 
days  ahead.  The  four  generals,  Lee,  Sullivan, 
Lincoln,  and  Heath  were  in  command  of  the 
marching  Americans. 

To  the  west  of  the  town  of  White  Plains  you 
will  see  a  slope  rising.  This  is  Chatterton's 
Hill,  still  known  by  the  name  of  those  old  days. 
Here  the  Americans  made  a  hasty  breastwork, 


300  Northivard 

Colonel  Haslet,  with  about  sixteen  hundred  men, 
occupying  this  eminence.  M'Dougal  reen- 
forced  Haslet  and  took  general  command  there 
the  next  morning.  Both  armies  were  now  close 
to  White  Plains;  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty- 
ninth  of  October  the  British  army,  thirteen 
thousand  strong,  moved  toward  the  village. 

After  a  council,  the  British  general  caused 
a  bridge  to  be  erected  over  the  Bronx,  and 
he  attempted  to  cross  by  this  and  dislodge 
the  Americans  from  Chatterton's  Hill.  But  the 
enemy  was  forced  to  recoil  in  the  face  of  the 
American  guns,  in  charge  of  Captain  Alexander 
Hamilton,  and  they  fell  back  to  join  another 
division  a  quarter-mile  below. 

The  combined  force  now  pushed  up  the  south- 
western side  of  Chatterton's  Hill.  M'Dougal 
put  up  a  brave  fight,  holding  his  position  with 
only  six  hundred  men  for  an  hour,  but  at  last 
an  attack  upon  his  flank  compelled  him  to  give 
way.  He  retreated  in  good  order  down  the 
southeastern  side  of  the  hill,  under  cover  of 
troops  led  by  Putnam.  The  victors  remained 
in  possession  of  only  the  breastworks  on  the  hill; 
M'Dougal  was  able  to  carry  off  his  wounded 
men  and  his  artillery. 

''The  British  troops  rested  upon  their  arms 
all  night  after  the  battle,''  Lossing  tells  us, 
''and  the  next  day,  after  a  skirmish  with  Glover's 
brigade,   they  encamped  within  long  cannon 


Washington's  WitKdrawal  301 

shot  of  the  front  of  the  American  lines.  Awed 
by  the  apparent  strength  of  Washington's  en- 
trenchments, Howe  dared  not  attack  him,  but 
awaited  the  arrival  of  Lord  Percy,  with  four 
battalions  from  New  York  and  two  from  Mamar- 
oneck.  The  loss  of  the  Americans,  from  the 
twenty-sixth  to  the  twenty-ninth,  did  not  ex- 
ceed probably  three  hundred  men,  in  killed, 
wounded,  and  prisoners;  that  of  the  British  was 
about  the  same.  Earl  Percy  arrived  on  the 
evening  of  the  thirtieth,  and  preparations  were 
made  to  storm  the  American  works  the  next 
morning.  A  tempest  of  wind  and  rain  arose 
at  midnight,  and  continued  for  twenty  hours. 
All  operations  were  delayed,  and  on  the  night 
of  the  thirty-first,  while  the  storm  clouds  were 
breaking  and  the  British  host  were  slumbering, 
Washington  withdrew  and  encamped  upon  the 
heights  of  North  Castle,  toward  the  Croton 
River,  where  he  had  erected  strong  breastworks 
along  the  hills  which  loom  up  a  hundred  feet 
above  the  waters  of  the  Bronx.  Howe  was 
afraid  to  attack  him  there,  and  on  the  night  of 
the  fourth  of  November  he  retreated  toward 
the  junction  of  the  Hudson  and  Harlem  Rivers, 
and  encamped  upon  the  heights  of  Fordham." 

If  you  are  walking  north  on  Broadway  you 
will  come  to  the  historic  mortar  just  after  pass- 
ing Crane  Avenue.  It  stands  on  the  west  side 
of  the  street  upon  a  heavy  base  which  is  a 


302  NortHiward 

remnant  of  the  Revolutionary  entrenchments  of 
October,  1776,  and  they  *'mark  the  final  stand 
by  General  Washington  at  the  end  of  his  long 
retreat ;  the  abandonment  by  General  Howe  of  his 
purpose  to  capture  the  American  army;  and  the 
revival  of  the  hopes  for  national  independence." 

All  the  eagles  and  soldierly  figures  of  the  ordi- 
nary montiment  sink  to  insignificance  beside  the 
simple  emphasis  of  this  old  mortar,  a  genuine 
relic  of  the  engagement. 

The  end  of  your  long  walk  to  North  White 
Plains  is  one  of  our  most  delightful  historic  houses 
— delightful  largely  because  of  its  pictturesque 
remoteness  and  shabbiness — Washington's  head- 
quarters. It  is  the  little  old  farmhouse  that 
sheltered  him  during  his  stay  in  White  Plains. 
The  ridge  where  Washington  presented  so  for- 
midable an  appearance  as  to  alarm  the  British 
army  confronts  you;  to  the  left  is  the  little 
village  store  and  post  office  in  one:  the  gen- 
eral dispensary  of  mail,  cough  syrups,  break- 
fast foods,  and  lemon  soda.  Straight  ahead 
past  the  store,  the  branch  of  the  main  road  leads 
to  the  old  house. 

You  must  pass  into  the  deeply  dusty  road  of 
the  woodsy  country,  and  plunge  into  the  midst  of 
trees,  where  a  dense  tangle  grows  at  the  base 
of  the  ridge.  To  the  left  you  will  hear  the  hoot 
of  engines  from  the  track  below;  to  the  right 
lies  solitude.    And  then,  all  of  a  sudden  emerg- 


WasKin^ton's  Headquarters  3^3 

ing  from  the  thick  green  growth  with  its  deep 
shadows,  a  glimpse  of  a  weather-beaten  gray 
wooden  btiilding  finally  meets  your  eye. 

Bolton  describes  it  as  ''situated  amid  a  deep 
solitude  of  woods,  surrounded  by  hills  and  wild 
romantic  scenery,"  and  then  he  quotes  the 
following  description.  It  was  written  by  a  New 
York  newspaper  correspondent  in  1845,  and  is 
an  interesting  example  of  the  newspaper  style 
of  more  than  a  half -century  ago. 

''When  we  entered  the  little  room  of  Mr. 
Miller's  farmhouse,  where  that  great  and  good 
man  had  resided,  and  where  he  resolved  to  try 
the  hazard  of  a  battle,  with  a  flushed  and  suc- 
cessful foe,  we  coiold  not  repress  the  enthusiasm 
which  the  place  and  the  moment  and  the  memory 
inspired.  We  looked  around  with  eagerness  at 
each  portion  of  the  room  on  which  his  eye  must 
have  rested,  we  gazed  through  the  small  window 
panes,  through  which  he  must  have  so  often  and 
so  anxiously  looked  toward  the  enemy,  and  at 
the  old-fashioned  buffets,  where  his  table  ser- 
vice was  deposited  for  his  accommodation.  But 
little  change  has  taken  place  in  the  building." 

But  little  change  has  taken  place  now,  except 
for  the  wear  and  tear  of  time.  In  1851  Lossing 
visited  it  and  found  Miss  Jemima  Miller,  a 
maiden  ninety-three  years  of  age,  and  her  sister, 
somewhat  younger,  living  there  in  what  had 
been  their  childhood's  home.     They  were  then 


304  NortK-ward 

careftdly  preserving  a  chair  and  table  used  by 
the  Chief.  Abraham  Miller  owned  the  property 
at  that  time,  but  with  the  change  of  occupants 
the  treasured  pieces  of  furniture  have  been 
taken  away  and  are  now  preserved  in  other 
dwellings.  A  German  family  occupy  the  place 
and  it  is  in  a  state  of  sad  dilapidation. 


CHAPTER  XX 

ALONG  THE  OLD  BOSTON  POST  ROAD 

MADAME  SARAH  KNIGHT  of  Charles- 
town,  Mass.,  traveled  from  Boston  to  New 
York  in  the  year  1704.  Riding  horseback  her- 
self, she  was  guided  by  the  post-rider,  following 
his  way  to  New  Haven,  Rye,  New  Rochelle, 
and  New  York.  In  these  words  she  stunmed 
up  her  journey: 

Through  many  toils  and  many  frights 
I  have  returned,  poor  Sarah  Knights 
Over  great  rocks  and  many  stones 
God  has  preserved  from  fractured  bones. 

To-day  the  same  route,  or  approximately  the 
same,  is  covered  by  a  rapid  railroad,  by  smooth- 
running  trolleys,  and  by  an  excellent  automobile 
road.  Along  it  lies  much  of  the  greatest  historic 
interest  of  Westchester  County. 

The  old  road  started  from  the  fort  at  the  foot 

of  Broadway,  opposite  the  Bowling  Green,  where 

the  Custom  House  now  stands;  pursued  its  way 

along  Park  Row,  the  Bowery,  across  Spu3d:en 

20  305 


3o6  NortK-ward 

Duyvil  Creek,  and  so  on  through  Westchester 
County  until  it  brought  up  at  Washington 
Street  in  Boston. 

Beyond  Spuyten  Duyvil  Creek,  the  road 
passed  near  the  Fort  Independence  known  to 
early  American  patriotism;  the  Negro  Fort; 
crossed  Rattlesnake  Brook;  and  entered  the 
town  of  Eastchester,  now  included  within  the 
boundaries  of  Moimt  Vernon. 

Eastchester  dates  back  to  1664,  when  the 
first  settlement  was  made  near  the  Hutchinson 
River,  named  for  Anne  Hutchinson.  The  little 
stream  is  still  picturesque  in  spots,  where  build- 
ings have  not  crowded  and  where  trees  flank  it 
and  wild  flowers  gather  along  its  banks.  Upon 
this  stream,  saw-  and  grist-mills  were  established 
in  early  days,  those  of  John  Tompkins  and 
Stephen  Anderson  having  been  noted  in  their 
day.  Houses  gathered  gradually,  and  the  chtu-ch 
reared  its  steeple  in  their  midst.  In  1692 
the  first  church  was  built,  and  a  tablet  on  the 
present  building  gives  its  history  in  brief: 

"  This  church  stands  on  the  ancient  village 
green  of  Eastchester,  a  general  training  ground 
and  election  place  in  Colonial  days  and  enlisting 
headquarters  for  Revolutionary  soldiers.  The 
first  meeting  house,  erected  on  the  green  north 
of  this  church,  1692- 1699,  adopted  the  worship 
of  the  Church  of  England,  1702.  This  church, 
erected  1761-65,  was  used  as  a  military  hospital 


Deserter  H\jin^  to  Signpost  307 

during  the  American  Revolution;  converted  into 
a  Court  House  1787/' 

The  stone  and  brick  work  are  sound  to-day, 
the  building  and  grot;nds  being  finely  preserved. 
In  the  churchyard  six  thousand  lie  sleeping. 

Directly  across  the  street  stands  an  old  white 
house  on  whose  doorplate  we  read  the  name 
''  Fay.''  This  is  the  only  one  left  of  the  early 
Eastchester  homesteads.  The  Fays,  from  Ver- 
mont, settled  here  in  1732.  During  the  Revolu- 
tion the  house  Was  used  as  a  tavern  and  was 
much  favored  by  British  officers.  The  most 
thrilling  event  in  its  history  was  the  hanging  of 
a  British  deserter  to  the  signpost  which  stood 
before  the  door. 

One  Billy  Crawford  was  conducting  it  during 
these  days,  but  after  the  war  the  Fay  family 
returned  to  it.  One  of  the  distinguished  mem- 
bers of  the  family  once  living  here  was  Theodore 
Sedgwick  Fay,  for  nearly  twenty  years  minister 
to,  Switzerland. 

At  Sixth  Street  in  Mount  Vernon  the  road 
crosses  the  Hutchinson  River,  continues  past 
Pelham,  an  old  manor,  and  enters  New  Rochelle. 

In  19 1 3  the  people  of  New  Rochelle  celebrated 
the  two-hundred-and-twenty-fifth  anniversary 
of  the  event  which  gave  birth  to  that  town. 
In  the  year  1688  the  French  Huguenots  set  foot 
upon  Bonnefoi  Point,  now  Davenport's  Neck,  a 
group  of  jutting  rocks  which  thrust  themselves 


3o8  NortK^ward 

out  into  the  waters  of  Long  Island  Sound.  A 
small  playground  which  New  Rochelle  preserves 
for  the  public  and  calls  Hudson  Park  to-day 
encloses  the  spot,  marked  by  a  monument, 
where  the  first  Huguenot  foot  is  supposed  to 
-have  been  set. 

It  was  after  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantes  that  these  French  Protestants  found 
refuge  here.  They  had  made  attempts  to  colo- 
nize in  our  Southern  States  dtiring  their  earlier 
persecutions,  but  when  the  edict  issued  by 
Henry  IV  in  1598  secured  them  full  toleration, 
both  civil  and  religious,  they  returned  to  their 
own  country.  The  death  of  Cardinal  Mazarin 
in  1 66 1  marked  the  beginning  of  renewed  perse- 
cutions, and  in  1685  Louis  XIV  revoked  the 
edict.  That  act  caused  the  exodus  of  at  least 
400,000  people — some  historians  place  the  num- 
ber as  high  as  500,000.  France  was  said  to 
have  lost  the  riches  that  flowed  from  skill,  so- 
briety, and  industry. 

The  silk  weavers  moved  their  art  to  England. 
Thrifty  farmers  laid  out  farms  in  America.  The 
refugees  who  came  to  our  shores  scattered  to 
Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  Virginia,  and 
New  York,  and  here  on  the  shore  of  the  Sound 
they  chose  a  home  and  named  it  for  their  own 
La.  Rochelle  in  Prance. 

They  settled  on  land  which  Jacob  Leisler,  a 
German  resident  of  New  York,  had  obtained 


The  Municipal  Building  at  Rye,  once  Haviland's  Tavern,  on  the  Old  Post  Road. 


The  Fay  House  at  Eastchester,  formerly  a  Tavern,  where  a  British  Deserter  was  Hung 

to  a  Sign-Post. 


The  Holly  House,  Cos  Cob. 


Stru^^es  of  Hiji^uenots  309 

from  John  Pell,  the  lord  of  Pelham  Manor.  The 
Pell  name  is  to  be  traced  to-day  throughout  this 
region.  As  for  Jacob  Leisler,  the  fact  that  he 
was  hung  for  high  treason  has,  if  an5rthing, 
added  to  the  high  esteem  in  which  he  was  held, 
and  a  montiment  by  the  sculptor  Solon  Borglum 
stands  on  North  Avenue,  perpetuating  Leisler's 
name. 

Pioneering  brought  hardships.  At  the  end  of 
the  Seventeenth  Century  ''ye  inhabitants  of 
New  Rochelle"  were  ''humbly  petitioning" 
thus: 

"...  Wherefore  they  were  invited  to  come 
and  buy  lands  in  the  province,  to  the  end  that 
they  might  by  their  labour  help  the  necessityes 
off  their  familyes,  and  did  spend  therein  all  their 
smale  store,  with  the  help  of  their  friends,  whereof 
they  did  borrow  great  stmis  of  money.  They  are 
poor  and  needy,  reduced  to  a  lamentable  condi- 
tion. Wherefore  your  petitioners  humbly  pray 
that  your  Excellency  may  be  pleased  to  take  the 
case  in  serious  consideration  and  out  of  charity 
and  pity  to  grant  them  what  help  and  privileges 
your*  Excellency  shall  think  convenient. '" 

They  pulled  through.  They  were  of  the 
stuff  that  always  does  pull  through.  They  have 
proved  among  the  finest  stock  of  early  Ameri- 
can settlers.  Among  the  names  familiar  in 
their  lists  are  Jay,  de  Peyster,  Luquer,  Boudinot, 
and  Marquand.     Here  and  there  in  the  town 


3IO  North-ward 

an  ancient  Huguenot  home  is  to  be  seen.  On 
Main  Street,  opposite  the  Presbyterian  Church, 
is  the  old  Pintard  house,  where  Walter  Marvin 
now  lives.  On  Upper  Main  Street,  out  toward 
the  Mamaroneck  line,  stands  the  old  Flandreau 
-home.  On  North  Avenue,  near  the  station  of 
the  electric  railroad,  is  a  little  old  stone  building 
smeared  with  white;  its  roof  sags,  its  shingles 
are  weather-beaten,  there  are  sections  of  its  walls 
which  are  on  the  verge  of  crumbling  to  dust. 
Trees  and  a  tangle  of  grass  surround  it,  and  a 
carpenter's  sign  hangs  across  its  street  face.  It 
is  as  unchanged  and  as  typical  an  early  Hugue- 
not farmhouse  as  you  will  find. 

On  the  old  Boston  Post  Road  stood  the 
Huguenots'  first  church.  Previous  to  building 
this,  they  had  walked  all  the  way  to  New  York 
and  back,  twenty-three  miles  by  the  road,  for 
the  sake  of  partaking  of  the  Lord's  supper.  A 
little  group  of  the  homesick  refugees  used  to 
gather  on  the  shore  at  sunset  every  day,  face 
their  beloved  France,  and  raise  their  voices  in 
hymns. 

But  it  was  not  long  before  they  had  their  own 
house  of  worship.  When  John  Pell  deeded  the 
6000  acres  to  Jacob  Leisler  for  the  Huguenot 
use,  he  threw  in  an  extra  hundred  acres  for  good 
measure,  that  the  church  of  these  new  Ameri- 
cans might  be  erected  thereon. 

That  famous  deed  is  to  be  seen,  along  with 


Tom  Paine  Cottage  311 

Other  treasiires,  in  the  Huguenot  Museum  on 
North  Avenue.  An  old  bookcase  brought  from 
Holland  by  one  of  these  settlers  is  in  the  collec- 
tion; and  a  group  of  Indian  relics,  gathered  over 
a  period  of  years  on  the  ground  where  New 
Rochelle  now  stands,  is  the  gift  of  Mr.  Henry 
Lester,  a  representative  of  one  of  the  early 
families. 

But  the  most  interesting  thing  about  the 
museum  is  the  museum  itself.  It  is  the  old 
home  of  ''Tom  Paine'';  a  romantic-looking 
cottage  covered  with  shingles,  shaded  by  green 
blinds  of  the  old  pattern,  having  a  vine-covered 
porch  and  a  flower-bed  where  sweet-william  and 
English  daisies  grow.  The  place  leads  you 
from  the  period  of  pioneering  into  the  years  of 
the  Revolution,  with  which  Thomas  Paine  was 
associated  in  America's  history. 

The  house  stands  in  a  hollow  beside  the  road. 
Above  it  is  the  monument  to  his  memory  erected 
by  public  contribution  in  1839.  It  was  repaired 
and  re-dedicated  in  1881,  and  a  bronze  bust 
was  placed  upon  it  in  1899.  Paine's  bones  no 
longer  rest  here.  He  died  in  1809,  and  was 
buried  on  what  was  then  his  New  Rochelle  farm, 
but  in  1 8 19  William  Cobbett  took  his  remains  to 
England. 

Nevertheless  this  Westchester  County  town 
preserves  every  memory  of  the  erratic  patriot. 
He  was  strongly  identified  with  the  place,  for 


312  NortH-ward 

it  was  here  that  the  State  of  New  York  selected  a 
farm  of  three  hundred  acres  to  bestow  upon  him. 
It  was  the  confiscated  estate  of  Frederic  Davoc, 
Loyalist,  and  it  was  given  to  Paine  in  1786, 
at  the  same  time  that  Congress  gave  him  three 
,thousand  dollars  for  his  services  during  the 
Revolutionary  War. 

He  sailed  for  Europe  soon  after,  where  he  was 
royally  entertained  by  many  admirers  in  England 
and  France.  Later  he  was  indicted  for  sedition 
in  London,  and  finally  outlawed.  In  France, 
while  a  prisoner  of  the  Jacobins,  he  barely 
escaped  the  guillotine.  At  this  period  he  wrote 
much  of  his  Age  of  Reason.  In  1802  he  returned 
to  America  and  spent  his  time  in  New  York 
and  New  Rochelle. 

The  Quaker  staymaker,  which  Paine  had  once 
been  in  England,  was  refused  burial  by  the 
Quakers  of  the  United  States.  IngersoU  wrote 
of  his  funeral  cortege: 

'*  In  a  carriage,  a  woman  and  her  son  who  had 
lived  on  the  bounty  of  the  dead — on  horseback, 
a  Quaker,  the  humanity  of  whose  heart  domi- 
nated the  creed  of  his  head — ^and  following  on 
foot,  two  negroes,  filled  with  gratitude.  *' 

The  body  was  laid  in  its  New  Rochelle  grave, 
and  for  a  time  there  was  no  great  honor  paid 
to  the  man  whose  burning  pamphlet.  Common 
Sense,  had  touched  the  fuse,  firing  a  continent 
to  declare  its  independence. 


TKe  Disbro-w  Chimney  313 

From  this  town  the  old  Post  Road  strikes  out 
toward  the  Sound,  and  is  much  of  the  way 
within  sight  of  the  water.  Mamaroneck  is  the 
next  historical  village  which  it  passes — one  of 
the  oldest  in  the  entire  county,  laid  out  in  1660. 
Madame  Knight  wrote,  ''From  New  Rochelle 
we  traveled  through  Merrinack,  a  neat  tho  lit- 
tle place,  with  a  navigable  river  before  it,  the 
pleasantest  I  ever  see. " 

It  is  to-day  a  neat,  though  hardly  a  little  place, 
at  least  not  little  in  her  sense  of  the  word.  It 
is  full  of  ancient  history  and  modern  prosperity; 
gasolene  whiffs  from  suburban  motors  blow 
across  Heathcote  Hill,  where  the  Americans  of 
1776  surprised  the  Queen's  Rangers. 

The  town's  most  picturesque  relic  is  the 
Disbrow  chimney — a  mere  pile  of  stones,  stand- 
ing in  the  lawn  of  what  is  known  as  the  old 
Stringer  residence.  This  chimney  is  the  oldest 
historiq  relic  in  all  of  Westchester  County.  A 
few  years  ago  the  great  fireplaces  and  closets  on 
each  side  of  the  stone  work  could  be  distingmshed, 
but  so  rapidly  is  the  masonry  crumbling  that  now 
it  appears  almost  shapeless,  smothered  in  vines 
and  sumac  boughs.  In  one  of  the  large  closets 
beside  it,  tradition  has  it  that  Harvey  Birch,  hero 
of  Cooper's  novel  The  Spy^  hid  when  he  was 
being  ptirsued.  This  pile  of  stones  is  all  that 
remains  of  the  Disbrow  house,  built  in  1677. 
The  house  was  burned. 


314  NortH^ward 

In  the  early  part  of  the  Eighteenth  Century- 
Indians  came  to  the  Disbrow  family  and  de- 
manded the  property;  the  residents  showed  title 
deeds  on  which  the  aborigines  made  out  their 
own  signatures,  and  they  marched  off,  defeated. 
Thus  the  place  was  held  by  the  original  family, 
who  lived  to  the  extent  of  eight  generations  upon 
the  property.  Almost  a  century  ago  a  new 
house  was  erected  upon  the  land,  and  the  entire 
property,  old  and  new  house,  chimney  and  all, 
passed  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Stringer.  That 
*'new''  house  is  now  venerable  but  excellently 
preserved. 

The  Disbrows  were  related  to  that  Major 
General  John  Disbrow  of  England  who  married 
Anna  Cromwell,  sister  of  the  Protector. 

On  the  edge  of  this  same  land  is  the  rock 
known  as  ''Washington's  Rock"  from  the  like- 
ness which  it  bears  to  the  austere  profile  of  the 
Father  of  his  Country. 

Just  beyond  this  place  is  a  road  house,  its 
new  porch  adorned  by  the  titles  of  familiar  and 
popxilar  beverages.  This  was,  once  upon  a  time, 
the  De  Lancey  house  of  Heathcote  Hill.  It  is 
said  that  it  was  auctioned  off  to  the  highest 
bidder,  who,  for  some  dozen  of  dollars,  became 
possessor,  uprooted  the  old  house,  and  moved 
it  down  the  hill  to  face  the  road  at  a  convenient 
nearness.  One  daughter  of  old  Captain  De 
Lancey  married  Fenimore  Cooper. 


THe  Jay  House  3^5 

It  was  on  October  21,  1776,  that  Colonel 
Haslet,  leading  American  forces,  surprised  the 
Queen's  Rangers  upon  the  very  Heathcote  Hill 
which  lies  before  you.  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Rogers,  who  was  a  renegade  American,  com- 
manded these,  and  our  forces  bore  off  a  number 
of  prisoners  and  goodly  spoil  as  well. 

A  little  farther  along,  on  the  shore,  is  an  inter- 
esting sea-and-land  playground  for  children, 
maintained  by  the  Village  Improvement  Associ- 
ation. Swings  and  croquet  are  close  beside 
an  enclosed  bathing  beach  where  a  regularly- 
employed  playground  worker  has  an  eye  out 
for  safety. 

Between  Mamaroneck  and  Rye  on  the  Post 
Road  stands  the  Jay  house,  which  was  built 
by  the  father  of  John  Jay,  the  property  hav- 
ing been  acquired  in  1745.  John  Jay  spent  his 
boyhood  days  here.  Jenkins  tells  us  that  the 
original  house  was  ''but  one  room  deep  and 
eighty  feet  long,  having  attained  this  size  by 
repeated  additions  to  meet  the  wants  of  a 
numerous  family. " 

''From  hence  we  hasted  towards  Rye  .  .  . 
and  there  arrived  and  took  up  our  Lodgings," 
wrote  Madame  Knight.  "Here  being  very 
hungry  I  desired  a  fricasee  w°^  the  Frenchman 
undertaking  managed  so  contrary  to  my  notions 
of  Cookery  that  I  hastned  to  Bed  superless. " 

The  Rye  of  to-day  can  do  better.    It  can 


3i6  NortH-ward 

refresh  the  hungry  and  thirsty  traveler.  But 
its  most  interesting  building  is  one  of  the  old 
taverns  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  now  the 
municipal  btiilding,  standing  where  the  Post 
Road  crosses  Purchase  Street.  It  was  known 
as  ^'Haviland's  Inn''  and  kept  open  by  Dame 
Tamar  Haviland  after  her  husband  and  the  war 
were  both  buried.  You  can  see  now  the  old  fire- 
place where  travelers  gathered  with  mug,  pipe, 
and  story.  One  room  has  been  preserved  as  a 
museum.  Here  both  Washington  and  Lafayette 
have  tarried;  ''a  very  neat  and  decent  inn*' 
wrote  Washington. 

In  this  building,  May,  1796,  the  Episcopalian 
parish  of  Rye  was  reorganized.  The  Boston 
stages  made  a  practise  of  stopping  here.  John 
Adams  stopped  here  in  1774  when  he  was  going 
to  attend  the  Continental  Congress.  And  so 
on,  item  by  item,  one  gathers  the  associations 
which  make  '^Haviland's''  one  of  the  typical 
inns  of  the  best  rank  along  the  old  road — a 
public  gathering  place,  used  by  both  travelers 
and  townspeople. 

The  land  jutting  into  the  Sound,  now  occupied 
by  the  village  of  Rye,  was  called  Peningo  by  the 
Indians,  and  the  island  just  beyond  was  Manus- 
sing  in  their  language.  The  white  settlement 
was  made  on  land  purchased  by  New  Englanders 
from  the  aborigines.  The  Mohicans  lived 
between  the  Hudson  and  Byram  rivers.     The 


"EigHt  Cotes  and  Seven  Shirts"     317 

first  purchase  did  not  include  Manussing.  But 
it  was  acquired  later,  about  1660,  in  a  treaty 
which  stipulated  that  the  purchasers  were  to  be 
''without  molestation  from  us  or  other  Indians" 
and  that  they  might  feed  their  cattle  upon  the 
mainland,  and  take  ''timbers  or  trees."  It  is 
of  interest  to  property  owners  in  this  smart 
suburban  region  to-day  to  note  that  the  con- 
sideration paid  for  this  entire  land  was  "Eight 
Cotes  and  Seven  Shirts  and  fifteen  fathom  of 
wompome. " 

Log  cabins  soon  sprang  up,  the  homes  of  the 
settlers  from  Greenwich  who  arrived  by  boat 
— wives,  babies,  family  cats,  and  all — rowing 
down  the  Sound.  They  built  up  a  village  which 
came  to  be  noted  for  its  thrift  and  virtue.  So 
righteous  were  its  ways  that  the  magistrate 
was  given  full  power  to  apprehend  "such  as 
were  overtaken  with  drinke,  swearing,  Sabboath 
breaking."  Before  the  Revolution,  however, 
Rye  came  to  be  known  as  a  pleasure  seekers' 
resort,  and  Rye  Flats  was  famous  for  its  horse 
racing. 

Port  Chester  to-day,  the  Saw  Pit  yesterday,  is 
the  village  next  beyond  Rye;  the  Byram  River 
is  crossed;  and  now  the  old  Boston  Post  Road 
finds  itself  within  the  State  of  Connecticut. 
Greenwich  and  Cos  Cob,  closely  associated  with 
the  name  of  General  Israel  Putnam,  are  just 
beyond. 


3i8  NortKijvard 

The  borderline  between  New  York  and  Con- 
necticut always  saw  more  or  less  stirring  times, 
beginning  with  a  bottle  of  fire  water  in  the 
sixteen-htmdreds.  The  bottle  passed  from  the 
hands  of  a  Dutch  trader  of  New  York  into 
.  the  welcoming  hands  of  a  Fairfield  County  chief, 
and  the  peace  to  which  he  had  bound  him- 
self while  sober  suddenly  became  exceedingly 
uninteresting.  The  Dutch  trader  found  a  tribe 
of  customers  ready  for  his  goods,  and  raids  soon 
stirred  the  territory  of  the  staid  Greenwich  set- 
tlers. From  Indian  raids  the  borderline  passed 
into  the  agitation  of  the  Revolutionary  period. 

The  Holly  house,  as  the  old  residence  is  known 
in  Cos  Cob,  contains  the  first  chapter  of  the 
most  picturesque  historic  tale  of  this  vicinity. 
This  ample  frame  house  was  built  by  Captain 
Bush,  a  New  York  merchant,  in  days  before  the 
Revolution.  Bush  was  a  friend  of  General 
Putnam,  and  his  house  was  frequently  used  by 
the  General  as  headquarters  during  the  throb- 
bing days  when  Fairfield  County  was  his  field  of 
action.  Tradition  credits  Miss  Bush,  a  daughter 
of  the  Captain,  with  at  least  part  of  the  Gen- 
eral's interest  in  the  spot.  At  any  rate,  the 
tradition  is  a  pleasing  one,  whether  true  or  not, 
for  no  stage  setting  could  present  a  prettier 
background  for  romance  than  the  rambling 
old  building  swathed  in  vines  and  half -hidden 
by  lilacs. 


Putnam's  Hill  319 

Here,  says  the  story,  Putnam  was  merry- 
making on  the  night  before  his  famous  ride. 
He  was  the  distinguished  guest  at  the  party. 
A  few  hours  later  he  was  riding  for  his  life, 
the  dancers  scattered  and  forgotten,  the  British 
pursuing. 

Putnam's  Hill  Park,  in  Greenwich  itself,  is 
near  the  scene  of  the  ride.  A  tablet  marks 
the  spot  where  on  February  26,  1779,  General 
Israel  Putnam,  ''cut  off  from  his  soldiers, 
pursued  by  British  cavalry,  galloped  down  this 
rocky  steep  and  escaped,  daring  to  lead  where 
not  one  of  many  hundred  foes  dared  to  follow.  '* 

The  story  has  many  variations  in  the  annals, 
but  it  is  a  popular  belief  that  Putnam,  mounted, 
rode  directly  down  the  seventy-four  stone 
steps  which  were  then  standing,  despite  the 
fact  that  his  horse  was  undertaking  the  feat 
under  a  weight  of  240  pounds.  Putnam  was  visit- 
ing his  outposts  at  West  Greenwich  when 
Governor  Tryon  with  a  corps  of  fifteen  hundred 
men  was  on  his  march  against  it.  Putnam  had  1 50 
men  with  him,  and  two  pieces  of  artillery;  with 
only  this  support  he  took  his  station  on  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  near  where  the  old  meeting 
house  stood.  From  this  point  he  greeted  the 
advancing  British  with  a  prompt,  sharp  fire  from 
his  artillery. 

But  upon  seeing  that  the  dragoons  were  about 
to  charge,  Putnam  ordered  his  men  to  retire 


320  NortK-ward 

to  the  swamp  below  where  the  cavalry  of  the 
British  coiild  not  reach  them.  The  enemy  was 
now  upon  him;  he  had  one  chance,  and  that  was 
to  force  his  horse  directly  down  the  precipice. 
His  pursuers  suddenly  brought  up  in  astonish- 
„ment  as  they  saw  the  steep  down  which  he 
had  fled.  Heavy,  they  could  not  follow.  They 
took  the  curve  which  led  gradually  to  the  road 
below,  but  long  before  they  could  reach  it 
Putnam  was  far  on  the  road  toward  Stamford. 
Here  he  found  militia  ready,  and,  adding  these 
to  his  former  band,  he  pursued  Tryon  and  re- 
ported the  taking  of  fifty  prisoners  in  spite  of 
his  small  numbers.  The  British  had  managed  to 
destroy  the  salt  works  at  Greenwich,  but  they 
had  failed  to  overcome  the  resourceful  American 
general.  Authorities  state  that  the  actual  steps 
down  which  Putnam  rode  were  at  some  dis- 
tance south  of  the  roadway.  The  steps  now 
leading  down  from  the  park  to  the  street  are 
sometimes  mistakenly  called  ''Putnam's  Steps.'' 

A  museum  of  colonial  and  Revolutionary  relics 
is  to  be  seen  opposite  the  Episcopal  church  in 
Greenwich.  The  building  was  once  the  tavern 
of  Captain  Israel  Knapp,  and  it  is  now  known 
as  the  Putnam  Cottage. 

Beyond,  at  Cos  Cob,  an  old  settlers'  burying 
ground  lies  beside  the  curved  road  that  leads  off 
from  the  main  road,  toward  the  Holly  house. 
The  sunken  headstones  are  smothered  in  grass, 


The  Tom  Paine  Monument  at  New  Rochelle. 


^'^  ;i:-^^^ta^^^^ 


...  4«.«^^«*«5f^** 


^^^^inl 


The  Old  Huguenot  House  at  New  Rochelle. 


The  Lighthouse  at  Fort  Schuyler. 


The  Holly  House  321 

their  names  and  dates  almost  obliterated.  Here, 
says  tradition,  the  ancient  chieftains  Cos  Cob 
and  Mianus  lie  buried.  The  spot  is  uncared  for, 
and  furnishes  to  the  village  merely  a  field  for  a 
cross-cut. 

The  Holly  house  is  a  finely  preserved  example 
of  pre-Revolutionary  building.  The  colonial 
entrance,  narrow  white  staircase,  and  huge 
fireplaces  are  intact.  The  furniture  did  not 
belong  to  Captain  Bush,  having  come  later 
with  the  Holly  family,  but  it  is  of  the  period  of 
the  house  itself.  An  old  and  valuable  print  of 
Putnam's  ride  hangs  in  the  hall. 

North  and  northwest  of  Cos  Cob  the  land  was 
called  *' Strickland's  Plain, ''  and  it  was  here  that 
Captain  Underbill,  sent  by  the  Dutch  Governor 
of  New  York,  made  his  terrific  attack  upon  the 
troublesome  Indians  long  before  the  Revolution* 
The  settlers  of  Greenwich  had  appealed  to  the 
Governor  for  aid,  since  Greenwich  was  then  tmder 
the  jurisdiction  of  New  York.  He  finally  sent 
Underbill  with  130  men,  and  the  captain  reached 
the  Mianus  River  and  rested  there  in  the  even- 
ing until  moonrise.  As  the  light  $lowly  ciame, 
showing  him  the  way,  he  led  his  men  across 
the  river  at  the  town  of  Mianus.  He  climbed 
the  high  bank  on  the  west  side,  looked  over 
Strickland's  Plain,  and  thereupon  made  his 
onslaught.  Wigwams  perished  in  the  fires  he 
lighted,  Indian  lives  were  sacrificed  right  and 

ax 


322  NortH-ward 

left,  a  wholesale  destruction  of  the  enemy  was 
made,  and  peace  achieved  for  the  settlers. 

The  road  between  New  York  and  Boston  was 
not  the  only  means  of  communication  for  these 
early  villages  along  the  Sound.  Hurd  tells  us 
that  in  1767  Nathaniel  Close  petitioned  to 
"the  benevolent  inhabitants  of  the  town  of 
Greenwich, "  for  permission  to  build  a  storehouse 
at  the  dock  at  Cos  Cob,  as  ''his  performing  a 
weekly  Pauquet  or  stage  boat  to  New  York*' 
required. 

Moreover,  there  were  crossings  to  the  Long 
Island  shore.  At  Port  Chester  (or  possibly 
Rye)  there  was  a  ferry  established  as  early  as 
I739>  to  the  island  of  Nassau  at  Oyster  Bay. 
This  was  by  royal  letters  patent  of  King  George. 
"Which  ferry  our  loving  subjects  John  Budd, 
Hachaliah  Brown  and  Jonathan  Brown,  Esqs., 
propose  to  undertake  .  .  .  and  to  have  free  liberty 
to  ask  the  several  fees  hereinafter  mentioned, 
viz.,  for  every  person  i  shilling  and  sixpence,  for 
every  man  and  horse  3  shillings,  for  all  horned 
cattle  from  2  years  old  and  upwards  each  2 
shillings  ...  for  every  full  barrel  i  shilling,  for 
every  empty  barrel  4  pence  ...  for  every  gam- 
mon, flitch  of  bacon  or  piece  of  smoked  beef  i 
penny  .  .  .  for  every  chair  2  pence,  for  every  case 
with  bottles  9  pence,  for  every  frying  pan  or 
warming  pan  2  pence." 


CHAPTER  XXI 
TO  throg's  neck  and  city  island 

STRETCHING  out  into  the  East  River,  like 
stiflf-jointed  fingers  on  an  ungainly  hand, 
are  several  peninsulas,  to  the  several  tips  of 
which  old  roads  led  yesterday  along  practically 
the  same  line  of  the  better  roads  of  to-day. 
Passing  northeast  beyond  Hell  Gate,  beyond 
Ward's  and  Randall's  and  North  and  South 
Brother  Island,  we  come  to  Barretto  Point  and 
Hunt's  Point;  Clason  Point  lies  just  beyond 
them,  across  the  mouth  of  the  Bronx  River  at 
the  end  of  Cornell's  Neck;  this  in  turn  is  sepa- 
rated from  the  next  by  Westchester  Creek,  and 
across  that  stream  lie  Old  Ferry  Point  and 
Throg's  Neck;  still  farther  along,  to  the  east 
of  Eastchester  Bay,  we  reach  Rodman's  Neck 
with  its  postscript  of  City  Island,  almost  a  part 
of  one  peninsula.  All  of  these  are  within  the 
boundaries  of  greater  New  York,  being  included 
in  the  Bronx. 

Hunt's  Point  is  generally  understood  as  in- 
cluding Barretto  Point,  the  latter  having  been 

323 


324  NortKijvarcl 

named  for  a  New  York  merchant,  Francis 
Barretto,  who  did  not  settle  upon  it  until  the 
middle  of  the  last  century.  The  former  name, 
which  included  the  whole  double  peninsula, 
was  given  in  honor  of  the  proprietor  of  1688. 
Previous  to  this,  the  Indian  name, ' '  Quinnahung, ' ' 
had  identified  this  "long,  high  place." 

The  chief  object  of  interest  on  Hunt's  Point  is 
the  Joseph  Rodman  Drake  Park,  opened  in  19 10. 
Two  and  a  half  acres  are  laid  out  for  this,  and 
within  its  boundaries  are  included  the  old  burial 
ground  of  the  Hunt  family,  and  the  grave  of 
Drake,  whose  poem,  To  the  Bronx,  has  im- 
mortalized this  part  of  our  great  city.  Drake 
found  poetry  in  that  which  was  near  and  familiar, 
foimd  romance  where  we  are  too  much  inclined 
to  see  only  commercialism  and  modern  hurry 
and  bustle. 

Yet  I  will  look  upon  thy  face  again, 
My  own  romantic  Bronx,  and  it  will  be 

A  face  more  pleasant  than  the  face  of  men. 
Thy  waves  are  old  companions;  I  shall  see 

A  well-remembered  form  in  each  old  tree, 

And  hear  a  voice  long  loved  in  thy  wild  minstrelsy. 

Nevertheless,  in  apology  for  ourselves  of  this 
generation,  it  is  only  fair  to  remember  that  the 
Bronx  River  of  a  century  ago  was  far  more 
romantic  than  it  is  to-day,  with  the  pressure  of 
building  and  business  encroaching  upon  its  banks. 


"The  Pilot  House"  325 

The  road  leads  straight  down  to  the  end  of 
the  point.  The  land  was  once  known  as  the 
''great  planting  field,"  and  for  many  years  it 
was  rich  in  meadows  and  farms.  Drake's  home 
was  at  Hunt's  Point,  in  the  original  Hunt 
house  known  as  the  Grange.  This  building,  or 
a  portion  of  it,  was  erected  possibly  as  early 
as  1669,  by  Thomas  Hunt.  The  building  has 
more  recently  been  known  as  ''the  Pilot  House" 
because  of  the  curious  octagonal  tower  rising 
from  one  end  of  it  and  serving  as  a  beacon  to 
pilots  on  the  East  River  beyond.  The  dilapi- 
dated house  was  once  an  ample  and  fine  farm- 
house, built  of  stone,  and  following  the  lines  of 
the  ancient  Dutch  homesteads. 

Other  familiar  names  associated  with  Himt's 
Point  are  Willett,  Leggett,  and  Tippett.  Mem- 
bers of  these  families  are  buried  in  the  old 
cemetery.  Out  on  Barretto  Point  is  the 
cemetery  where  the  Hunt  and  Leggett  families 
buried  their  slaves. 

Corneirs  Neck  received  its  name  for  Thomas 
Cornell  who  was  one  of  Throckmorton's  colonists. 
He  occupied  the  land  in  the  year  1643,  having 
bought  it  from  the  Indians,  according  to  his 
statement.  The  Dutch  authorities  were  satis- 
fied with  his  proof  of  the  fact,  but  the  Indians 
drove  him  out  and  btimed  his  house,  claim- 
ing that  he  had  never  paid  them.  However, 
Governor  Kieft  issued  to  him  a  grond  brief  in 


326  NortHiwarcl 

1646,  and  in  1667  Colonel  NicoUs  confirmed  by 
patent  this  land  to  Cornell's  grandson,  William 
Willett — "a  certaine  Parcell  of  Land,  contained 
within  a  neck,  commonly  called  and  knowne 
by  ye  name  of  Cornell's  Neck. " 

The  road  runs  down  the  middle  of  the  Neck 
and  winds  up  at  Clason's  Point,  named  for  an 
owner  later  than  Cornell.  The  old  road  used  to 
lead,  as  does  the  new  one,  to  the  Cornell  house. 
To-day  only  the  kitchen  of  this  edifice  remains, 
this  being  included  in  what  is  now  the  Clason's 
Point  Inn.  Another  portion  of  the  inn  is  what 
remains  of  the  Willett  and  Clason  mansion. 
The  smokehouse  of  the  original  bmlding  is 
still  standing,  being  a  small  structure  of  stone 
not  far  from  the  inn. 

Castle  Hill  Neck  is  a  minor  point  jutting 
into  East  River  just  beyond  Clason's,  at  the 
mouth  of  Pugsley's  Creek.  The  Weckquaesgeek 
Indians  formerly  built  a  large  castle,  which 
amounted  to  a  stockade,  on  high  land  at  this 
place,  hence  the  name  which  has  never  changed. 
From  Castle  Hill,  the  spot  on  which  the  pali- 
saded stockade  stood,  the  Indians  (who  belonged 
to  the  Mohican  tribe)  made  a  trail  reaching  to 
Paparinemo,  and  this  was  called  ''the  West- 
chester Path"  in  Doughty 's  patent  to  Archer. 
Thus  an  Indian  trail  came  to  be  a  broader  path, 
followed  by  white  settlers,  and  this  eventually 
became  a  real  road,  wide  enough  for  wagons, 


Ferris  Grange  327 

which  is  the  history  of  so  many  of  our  present 
roads. 

The  Ferris  family  early  settled  on  that  neck  of 
land  which  lies  to  the  east  of  Westchester  Creek, 
and  which  finds  its  conclusion  in  Old  Ferry 
Point.  John  Ferris  was  one  of  the  original 
patentees  of  Westchester.  One  of  the  earliest 
ferries  in  the  neighborhood  of  New  York  ran 
from  the  point  of  this  neck  across  to  White- 
stone,  Long  Island.  This  point  is  coupled 
with  Throg's  Neck,  both  having  roads  which 
run  back  inland  to  the  same  starting  point. 

Ferris  Avenue,  sometimes  called  Ferry  Lane, 
is  the  street  which  leads  from  Eastern  Boulevard 
down  toward  both  of  these  necks.  To  the 
right  of  it,  a  large  house  stands,  once  the  home 
of  the  old  owner  of  this  land  and  known  as 
Ferris  Grange.  It  was  built  in  1687,  has  been 
rebuilt  since  that  period,  and  was  once  rtm  down, 
gone  to  seed  and  weed,  but  is  still  recognizable 
as  a  "handsome  residence'*  of  an  early  period. 
At  the  Country  Club  is  another  Ferris  house; 
James,  who  occupied  this  home  in  1776,  was 
at  breakfast  with  his  family  on  the  twelfth  of 
October  of  that  year,  when  a  gtm  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  water  apprised  him  of  the  landing 
of  Sir  William  Howe  and  his  army.  Ferris  was 
taken  later  on  by  the  Queen's  Rangers  and 
suffered  imprisonment  in  the  "Provost"  prison 
of  New  York  City. 


328  NortK-ward 

And  next,  still  moving  toward  the  east,  we 
come  to  the  extremely  interesting  Throg's  Neck. 
To  begin  with,  its  very  name  is  interesting. 
It  is  a  remarkable  example  of  how  few  genera- 
ations  it  takes  to  corrupt  a  good  old  name.  Some 
-Spell  it  with  a  double  ''g, "  the  average  native 
calls  it  '* Frog's  Neck,"  and  a  very  large  per- 
centage of  New  Yorkers  have  not  the  faintest 
idea  of  its  origin. 

That  origin  is  the  excellent  old  surname  of 
John  Throgmorton,  or  Throckmorton,  who  came 
here  as  long  ago  as  1643.  Roger  Williams  was 
leading  a  group  of  Baptists  to  the  place,  they 
having  emigrated  from  Rhode  Island  and  the 
Providence  Plantations.  The  land  was  under 
the  control  of  the  Dutch,  and  from  them  Throck- 
morton took  a  grant.  The  land  had  been 
called  Quinshtmg  in  the  Indian  language,  but 
was  destined  from  that  time  on  to  bear  his  name, 
or  a  form  of  it. 

The  trolley  nmning  down  the  Neck  goes 
no  farther  than  Eastern  Boulevard,  leaving  the 
last  three  miles  in  tmdisturbed  peace.  For  a 
quiet  walk,  there  is  no  more  beautiful  road 
within  the  limits  of  greater  New  York.  It  is 
comparatively  tmfrequented,  so  that  the  pedes- 
trian has  full  opporttmity  to  enjoy  it.  Beyond 
the  road,  on  either  side,  country  estates  stretch 
away,  and  beyond  these  lies  the  blue  river 
which,  at  this  point,  is  widening  into  the  Sound. 


r/^^  Tow  Paine  House,  New  Rochelle. 


The  Arch  Leading  through  the  old  Fortifications  at  Fort  Schuyler, 


The  Iliilk  of  the  "  Macedonia. 


The  Old  Marshall  Residence. 


TKe  Stepping  Stones  329 

On  the  day  I  walked  those  still,  restful  miles 
there  was  haymaking  going  on  within  the 
estates,  and  the  smell  of  hot,  fresh-cut  grass 
was  abroad. 

At  the  first  marked  turn  of  the  road  one 
confronts  a  gate  leading  into  the  grotmds  of 
Mrs.  Collis  P.  Huntington.  The  turn  to  the 
left  leads  down  to  the  point.  Beyond  this, 
the  general  trend  is  toward  the  left. 

The  Havemeyer  estate  is  just  beyond.  All 
of  this  vicinity  is  closely  associated  with  Cooper's 
novel,  Satanstoe,  In  the  story,  the  Littlepage 
family  were  made  owners  of  much  property 
hereabouts.  Corney  Littlepage  and  his  friend 
Dirck  Pollock  stopped  at  a  tavern  at  Kings- 
bridge  when  passing  between  Westchester  and 
New  York  City.  The  author  made  use  of  the 
Indian  legend  which  gave  rise  to  the  name  of 
"  The  Stepping  Stones, ''  this  being  applied  to  the 
group  of  small  islands  lying  to  the  northeast  of 
Throg's  Neck.  The  tops  of  these  are  bare  and 
visible  at  low  tide. 

It  seems,  according  to  the  legend,  that  the 
archfiend  whom  the  Indians  most  feared  was  at 
one  time  baffled  by  their  attacks  and  retreated  to 
the  narrow  part  of  Throg'sNeck  and  looked  about 
to  see  what  his  best  method  of  escape  would  be. 
His  eye  lighted  upon  the  little  islands,  the  tide 
being  low.  They  were  bare;  so  he  stepped  upon 
their  tops  and  crossed  in  safety  over  to  Long 


330  NortH-ward 

Island.  But  he  left  a  souvenir  of  his  visit  in  the 
print  of  his  big  toe  as  he  stepped  off  the  point; 
hence,  "Satanstoe.'' 

By  making  a  short  detour  along  a  branch 
road  to  the  right,  you  will  come  to  the  famous 
Cedar  of  Lebanon  on  the  Huntington  estate.  It 
is  visible  at  some  distance  from  the  road ;  unfor- 
tunately, no  nearer  to  the  general  public  in  these 
days,  unless  a  permit  has  been  obtained  from 
the  superintendent.  This  is  the  direct  and  dire 
result  of  the  work  of  souvenir  maniacs  who 
chipped  away  bits  of  the  precious  wood  until  it 
became  necessary,  for  the  life  of  the  tree,  to 
refuse  all  visitors  permission  to  inspect  it  at  close 
range.  It  is  one  of  the  unforttmate  cases  where 
the  innocent  must  suffer  for  the  guilty. 

This  tree  is  the  finest  cedar  of  Lebanon  in  the 
United  States,  being  thirteen  feet  in  girth,  forty 
feet  in  height,  and  having  a  spread  of  branches 
reaching  beyond  fifty  feet.  It  is  also  very 
beautiful  in  outline.  It  was  planted  about  a 
century  and  a  quarter  ago  by  Philip  Livingston, 
and  has  seen  a  good  deal  of  American  history  ebb 
and  flow  not  far  from  its  branches. 

Turning  back  to  the  main  neck  road  you  will 
come  to  a  big,  whole-souled  house  on  the  Have- 
meyer  estate  where  little  folks  are  given  a 
summer  outing  close  to  a  private  bathing  beach, 
with  swings  and  a  benign  cow  to  add  to  their 
pleasures.    Just  where  the  swings  hang  at  the 


Fort  ScHixyler  33 1 

top  of  the  high  bank  above  the  bathing  beach,  a 
tiny,  shaded  path  runs  toward  the  point.  If  you 
will  follow  this  instead  of  the  main  road,  you  will 
be  following  in  the  footsteps  of  aborigines  who 
used  to  delight  in  this  green  neck  of  land — ^no 
doubt  the  same  aborigines  who  routed  the  arch- 
fiend. This  little  path,  sneaking  through  a  line 
of  trees,  is  known  as  an  old  Indian  trail,  and  it 
leads  to  a  sloping  meadow  through  which  one  can 
cross  to  the  main  road  and  to  Fort  Schuyler. 

To-day  this  United  States  post  stands  as  a 
mere  relic  of  the  past.  Changing  conditions  and 
our  national  peacefulness  have  brought  it  to 
the  point  where  it  hardly  seems  to  find  reason 
for  being — unless  its  immortality  be  considered 
to  lie  in  its  usefulness  to  the  ''movies. "  Many  a 
motion-picttire  film  is  made  on  these  picturesque 
grounds,  many  a  thrilling  scene  enacted  for  the 
camera,  where  once  a  goodly  garrison  of  our 
bravest  troops  paraded. 

The  building  of  this  fort  was  begun  in  1833. 
Its  object  was  to  accommodate  1250  men  and  to 
mount  318  cannon.  The  granite  of  which  the 
old  fortifications  were  built  was  brought  from 
Greenwich;  an  austere  gray  stone,  making  a 
formidable  front  to  any  enemy  who  might  dare 
approach  from  the  water,  as  you  can  see  for 
yourself  to-day. 

By  the  year  1851,  when  the  cost  was  looked 
over,  it  was  fotmd  that  the  construction  and 


332  NortH-ward 

repairs  of  this  now  almost  useless  fort  had 
reached  $873,013. 

Walking  out  to  the  giant  gray  walls  which 
face  upon  the  water,  you  pass  through  the  old 
barracks,  prison-like  in  appearance.  Here  is 
a  green  stretch  shaded  by  old  trees,  once  the 
parade  ground;  beyond,  concave  in  line  upon  the 
parade  ground,  are  the  original  fortifications. 
Their  sternness,  their  somberness,  their  loneli- 
ness, have  to  be  seen  to  be  appreciated.  They 
are  immensely  impressive,  intensely  melancholy. 

On  the  high  point  above  stands  the  well- 
known  lighthouse  which  has  guided  many  a  boat 
at  this  gate  of  the  Sound.  At  some  distance 
back  from  the  point  are  the  old  guns,  now  only  a 
landmark.  There  are  modem  ones  besides, 
built-up  guns,  with  modem  electric  harnessing 
in  control  of  them.  But  the  entire  fort  is  in 
charge  of  only  a  handful  of  men.  A  non- 
commissioned officer  and  his  eight  or  ten 
privates  take  the  place  of  that  early  1250. 

This  point  has  been  the  scene  of  important 
military  operations  and  was,  for  a  very  short 
time,  in  possession  of  the  British  during  the 
Revolution.  For  five  consecutive  days  Sir 
William  Howe  held  Throg's  Neck  before 
advancing  in  the  direction  of  New  Rochelle. 

Opposite,  on  Long  Island,  stands  Fort  Totten, 
and  it  is  there  that  the  active  military  life  for  both 
goes  on.     It  is  on  Willett's  Point,  a  short  dis- 


**  Village  Dreamed  of  Greatness  **     333 

tance  from  Whitestone,  and  there  is  a  boat  con- 
necting the  three  points  and  available  for  visitors. 

These  sister  forts  across  the  water  from  one 
another  together  command  the  eastern  entrance 
to  the  East  River,  which  is  narrow  just  here. 
Their  nearness  and  the  height  of  the  Throg's 
Neck  cliffs  give  them  a  most  advantageous 
position. 

General  Philip  S.  Schuyler  was  the  officer 
who  bequeathed  his  name  to  the  fort.  He  it 
was  who  commanded  the  Northern  army  in  1777. 
He  managed  his  campaign  in  such  wise  that 
Burgoyne's  defeat  and  capture  were  made  possi- 
ble to  the  American  commander  who  succeeded, 
namely  Horatio  Gates. 

It  was  in  191 1  that  the  garrison  was  finally 
withdrawn,  although  the  fort  had  been  gradu- 
ally slipping  into  sltimber.  It  was  realized  that 
the  defenses  at  Fisher's  Island  had  rendered  the 
Schuyler  defenses  of  no  use.  So  the  acres  of  the 
Government  reservation  which  were  purchased 
in  1826,  several  years  before  the  building  of 
the  granite  fort  began,  are  to-day  mainly  of 
use  to  the  motion-picture  companies. 

On  beyond  Throg's  Neck  we  come  to  Rodman's 
Neck  and  that  long  island  attached  thereto  by  a 
bridge  and  almost  one  with  it.  This  is  City 
Island,  "the  village  that  dreamed  of  greatness.'* 
Within  the  actual  limits  of  New  York  City 
you  wake  to  a  sense  of  being  on  the  coast  of 


334  NortH^ward 

Maine.  The  smell  of  the  sea  is  in  the  air, 
doddering  old  fishermen  with  a  truly  down-East 
look  are  aroimd  you,  half-wrecked  boats  lie 
beached  on  a  still  shore,  and  the  snores  of  a 
slumbering  village  are  in  your  ears. 

City  Island  is  a  curious  relic  of  a  proud 
ambition  which  swelled  some  century  and  a  half 
ago  to  a  point  where  it  dreamed  the  fair  dream 
of  becoming  the  American  metropolis  and 
leaving  New  York  to  jog  mournfully  in  its 
meteoric  wake.  But  the  dream  spent  itself. 
The  quaint,  ambitious  little  town  slipped  back 
into  quiet  after  the  revolution  which  had  stirred 
it.  That  was  before  the  end  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century,  and  since  then  no  stone  has  been  thrown 
heavy  enough  to  cause  a  splash.  The  inhabi- 
tants took  up  their  semi-nautical  life,  settled 
down  to  fishing  and  sailing  and  boat-mending, 
and  have  remained  thus  ever  since. 

The  only  monorail  of  the  United  States  used 
to  be  operated  on  the  Pelham  Park  Railroad 
rtmning  from  Bartow  out  to  the  bridge.  It  was 
installed  in  1910  and  ever  contended  with  an 
unlucky  star.  On  its  first  day  a  bad  accident 
occurred,  a  ntmiber  of  persons  were  killed,  and 
the  tmpopularity  of  the  road  afterwards  war- 
ranted the  use  of  only  one  car.  When  a  strong 
wind  was  blowing  even  this  one  might  fail  the 
traveler,  so  there  was  many  an  enforced  walk 
out  to  the  end  of  Rodman's  Neck.     The  weather- 


City  Island  Bridge  335 

beaten  car,  however,  with  its  loyal  charioteer 
who  sang  its  praises,  was  one  of  the  picturesque 
features  of  this  vicinity. 

From  the  end  of  the  monorail  line,  two  horse- 
cars  operated  across  the  bridge  and  out  to  the 
end  of  the  island.  They  were  as  weather-beaten 
as  the  monorail  car,  and  one  of  the  drivers  would 
have  been  an  excellent  painter's  model  for  an 
ideal  pirate,  adding  another  nautical  touch  to 
this  curious  land. 

A  trolley  has  now  replaced  these  old  means  of 
conveyance. 

The  bridge  is  a  well-built,  modem  structure, 
replacing  a  dismal  and  narrow  one  which  used 
to  stand.  Before  1868  only  a  ferry  spanned  this 
distance. 

Beyond  it,  a  strip  of  land  covering  230  acres 
and  shaped  like  a  string  bean,  extends  into  the 
water.  All  the  way  along  you  feel  sea  life  in  the 
air;  laimches  are  to  hire,  fishermen  stroll,  there 
rises  a  large  sail  factory,  and,  most  important  of 
all,  you  will  find  a  great  group  of  yachts  laid  up 
for  repair — ^yachts  of  the  wealthy,  famous  for 
their  pleasure  trips,  yachts  for  racing,  often  a 
cup  defender.  For  years  this  beach  has  been 
the  repairing  headquarters  of  such  boats.  The 
ship-building  industry  in  this  region  began  in 
1676  or  perhaps  earlier,  and  ever  since  that  time 
the  shores  of  and  near  City  Island  have  sheltered 
a  long  line  of  famous  boats. 


33^  NortK-ward 

The  most  unique  historical  building  on  the 
island  is  the  Macedonian  Hotel — Smith's  Hotel, 
to  the  native  thereabouts.  A  portion  of  the 
building  is  the  ''remains  of  the  English  frigate 
Macedonia,  captured  Friday,  October  25,  1812, 
by  the  United  States  frigate  United  States^ 
commanded  by  Captain  Stephen  Decatur,  U.  S. 
N.  The  action  was  fought  in  Latitude  24^  N., 
Longitude  29°  30'  W.,  that  is  600  miles  N.W. 
of  the  Cape  De  Verde  Islands  off  the  west  coast 
of  Africa.     Towed  to  Cowbay  in  1874. " 

This  curious  building  is  to  be  found  by  turning 
east  at  Ditmars  Street.  The  old  hotel  is  at 
the  water's  edge.  Inside  the  hulk  of  the  ship 
are  the  great  hooks  where  the  sailors  of  old  used 
to  hang  their  hammocks,  and  the  iron  rings  for 
the  cannon.  Jenkins  tells  us  that  the  hulk 
here  displayed  is  not  that  of  the  original  vessel 
which  Decatur  took,  but  its  successor,  a  second 
ship  of  the  same  name,  built  immediately  after 
the  first  Macedonia  had  been  taken,  launched 
in  1836,  and  broken  up  in  Cow  Bay,  Long  Island, 
which  was  a  graveyard  of  condemned  vessels. 

City  Island  was  once  known  as  Minnewits 
Island,  with  several  explanations  given  by  as 
many  different  historians.  Probably  the  theory 
that  the  name  came  from  Peter  Minuits,  the 
Dutch  governor  and  purchaser  of  Manhattan 
Island,  is  acceptable.  It  was  not  imtil  the  boom 
of  the  seventeen-sixties  that  the  name  City 


An  Algonquin  Village  337 

Island  was  bestowed,  with  the  idea  that  it  could 
be  better  promoted  thus.  That  boom  was 
much  like  those  which  animate  mushroom  towns 
of  the  West  to-day.  The  place  was  advertised, 
pushed,  promoted,  and  the  information  given 
out  broadcast  that  this  was  soon  to  be  the  great 
city  of  the  Atlantic  coast.  A  regular  ferry  must 
be  established,  to  connect  it  with  the  mainland; 
bids  were  made  for  the  lease  of  this  ferry,  and 
the  winner  was  one  Mrs.  Deborah  Hicks,  ''the 
best  and  fairest  bidder." 

The  boom  was  short-lived  and  the  settlers 
went  back  to  their  oyster  culture,  fishing,  and 
piloting.  It  is  claimed  that  oyster  culture 
in  America  began  at  this  place,  and  it  is  known 
that  an  Algonqtiin  village,  subsisting  on  the 
bivalve,  used  to  occupy  this  strip  of  land. 
Pishing  now  goes  on  at  Belden  Point,  since  the 
new  bridge  has  spoiled  it  at  the  north  end. 

There  is  a  bit  of  tradition  recorded  to  the 
effect  that  the  first  case  of  witchcraft  tried  in 
New  York  was  connected  with  City  Island. 
Ralph  Hall  and  Mary,  his  wife,  were  tried  for 
this  crime  and  they  escaped,  fleeing  to  the 
island  and  taking  refuge  there  in  a  hut  where 
they  lived  for  three  years.  They  were  finally 
acquitted.  Unfortunately  the  hut  has  van- 
ished, leaving  us  no  tangible  memorial. 

Strolling  back  from  the  point  of  the  island 
and  crossing  the  bridge,  you  will  find  yourself 


33^  NortK-ward 

at  Marshairs  Comers,  at  the  end  of  Rodman's 
Neck.  This  point  is  marked  by  a  fine  old 
colonial  house  of  Southern  type,  bmlt  by  the 
Marshall  family  about  the  Revolutionary  period. 
The  house  is  now  used  as  an  inn. 

To  the  east  of  this,  along  the  shore,  is  Orchard 
Bay  colony — a  great  city  of  three  hundred  tents 
under  the  regime  of  the  Park  Commission  of  the 
City  of  New  York,  a  vast  playgrotmd  and 
summer  resort  for  the  people.  Streets  are  lined 
with  the  little  canvas  homes,  grass  is  kept  cut, 
order  prevails.  For  ten  dollars  any  family  can 
obtain  the  water  privileges  for  a  season,  no 
charge  being  put  upon  the  land;  this  means  that 
for  only  ten  dollars  any  New  Yorker  can  pick 
up  his  tent,  family,  bathing  suit,  turkish  towels, 
and  rocking  chair,  and  betake  himself  to  an 
excellent  bathing  beach,  having  all  the  comforts 
of  home  within  city  limits.  The  lone  bachelor  is 
debarred. 

The  three  hundred  camps  represent  a  thousand 
persons,  and  it  is  estimated  that  seventy  or 
eighty  thousand  bathers  disport  themselves  here 
in  a  season.  A  volimteer  life-saving  corps  is 
stationed  on  the  beach,  and  constant  watch 
is  kept  of  bathers. 

Returning  to  the  main  portion  of  Rodman's 
Neck,  you  can  trace  history  by  walking  up  to  the 
Split  Rock  Road.  You  will  find  Glover's  Rock, 
memorial  of  American  courage  in  the  Revolution. 


One  of  the  Old  Guns  at  Fort  Schuyler. 


The  Old  Fortifications,  Fort  Schuyler. 


The  Old  Shot  Tower,  Built  in  1821  to  Replace  One  of 
Revolutionary  Days. 


An  Old  Block  House,  a  Relic  of  the  War  oj  18 12,  in  Morningside  Park. 


Glover's  RocK  339 

Its  tablet  reads,  "In  memory  of  five  himdred 
and  fifty  patriots  who,  led  by  Col.  John  Glover, 
held  General  Howe's  army  in  check  at  the 
Battle  of  Pell's  Point,  October  18,  1776,  thus 
aiding  Washington  in  his  retreat  to  White 
Plains/'  Glover's  Rock,  as  it  was  afterwards 
called,  was  the  point  at  which  the  battle  began. 
Howe  had  been  crossing  from  Throg's  Neck,  his 
men  disposed  in  several  boats,  and  he  landed 
at  what  was  known  as  the  Bowne  house  and 
proceeded  to  march  toward  Bartow.  Here,  at 
the  rock,  he  met  Glover.  The  outcome  was 
victorious  for  the  British  commander,  but  he 
met  with  such  losses  that  he  was  crippled  as  to 
numbers,  and  time  was  gained  for  Washington 
in  his  retreat.  Glover,  overcome,  retreated 
by  way  of  Split  Rock  Road.  He  had  had 
an  advance  guard  of  only  forty  to  hold  the 
British  in  check  until  his  men  could  be  disposed 
to  advantage  behind  the  trees  and  walls  round 
about,  and,  with  so  great  disadvantages,  he 
had  met  defeat  almost  as  if  it  were  conquest. 

Split  Rock  Road  won  its  name  from  the 
peculiar  formation  of  a  rock  standing  on  either 
side  of  a  tree  as  if  the  tree  had  forced  its  way 
up,  dividing  the  stone. 

Not  only  was  the  mainland  at  this  point 
stirred  by  the  Revolution,  but  City  Island 
awoke.  On  the  day  of  the  Battle  of  Long 
Island,  August  27,   1776,  two  ships  and  a  brig 


340  NortKiward 

came  to  anchor  a  little  above  Throg's  Neck, 
and  Colonel  Graham's  regiment  was  ordered 
immediately  to  the  spot  by  General  Heath  to 
prevent  the  British  landing  to  plunder  and  bum. 
Before  the  regulars  arrived  several  barges  from 
the  ships,  ftill  of  armed  men,  landed  on  City 
Island  and  a  great  killing  of  cattle  was  the 
restilt.  Two  companies  of  Americans  were  car- 
ried by  ferry — ^the  only  means  of  reaching  the 
island  then — ^and  they  promptly  compelled  the 
British  to  withdraw. 

This  region  was  a  great  headquarters  for 
Tories,  whom  Colonel  De  Lancey  led  tmder  the 
name  of  the  *' Tory  Westchester  Light  Horse.'* 
They  fought  along  the  banks  of  Westchester 
Creek. 


BACK  TO  THE  HEART  OF 
NEW  YORK 


341 


CHAPTER  XXII 

OLD  MANHATTAN 

BACK  within  the  heart  of  New  York,  on 
old  Manhattan  Island  itself,  the  traveler 
finds  a  network  of  historic  streets,  some  exactly 
in  the  line  of  early  paths,  others  more  or  less 
altered  to  smt  the  convenience  of  a  vast  and 
growing  city.  Here,  when  summer  is  drawing 
to  a  close  and  green  stretches  no  longer  tempt, 
the  history-devotee  can  enjoy  many  a  brisk 
walk  tracing  the  varied  lore  of  old  localities. 

In  his  Historical  Guide  to  the  City  of  New  York^ 
Frank  Bergen  Kelley  traces  twenty-eight  such 
little  journeys  all  within  the  borough  of  Man- 
hattan. Some  of  these  are  imfamiliar  to  even 
the  native  New  Yorker.  If  a  record  were  taken, 
showing  how  many  residents  of  this  island  know 
old  Horn's  Hook,  for  instance,  or  ever  heard  of 
the  Smuggler's  Cave,  or  could  tell  the  story  of 
the  Shot  Tower,  it  is  a  safe  guess  that  the  hands- 
up  would  be  oases  in  a  desert  of  ignorance. 

A  little  tour  on  the  upper  East  Side  begins  at 
53rd'  Street.    Turning  east  on  this  street,  you 

343 


344  THe  Heart  of  Ne^w  YorK 

find  yourself  approaching  a  ferry  slip,  the  route 
to  Blackwell's  Island.  The  Indians  called  it 
Minnahanonck  which  meant  ''Long  Island." 
In  the  year  1664  it  was  granted  to  the  Sheriff  of 
New  York  County,  Captain  John  Manning. 
Nine  years  later  he  disgraced  himself  in  public 
opinion  by  surrendering  the  city  to  the  Dutch, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  retire  to  his  residence,  or 
*' castle,''  on  the  island,  his  sword  having  been 
broken.  His  step-daughter  inherited  the  island, 
and  her  marriage  to  Robert  Blackwell  gave  it 
its  permanent  name.  It  was  not  tmtil  1828  that 
the  city  of  New  York  bought  the  strip  of  land, 
paying  fifty  thousand  dollars  for  it. 

You  may  make  the  trip  to  the  island,  where  the 
penitentiary,  charity  hospital,  and  other  city 
institutions  now  stand,  by  obtaining  a  pass; 
but  whether  you  cross  in  this  ferry  or  not,  do  not 
fail  to  notice  the  curious  old  brick  tower  which 
rises  at  your  left  near  the  ferry  slip.  It  is  sur- 
rotmded  by  squatty  btiildings,  lumber-yard 
piles,  disorder,  and  rubbish. 

The  tower  was  erected  in  1821,  almost  a 
century  ago,  by  Youle.  It  was  built  to  replace 
one  still  older,  the  original  having  been  used  as 
far  back  as  Revolutionary  days.  In  its  day,  the 
tower  looked  down  upon  the  cultivated  ground 
which  surrounded  the  ''Spring  Valley  Farm- 
house." Sleek  patches  of  vegetables,  cow- 
Cropped  grass,  flanked  the  substantial  old  Dutch 


Smith's  Folly  345 

house  which  was  called  the  oldest  btdlding  on 
Manhattan  Island.  Its  land  ran  down  to  the 
river's  edge.  David  Duffore  was  probably  the 
builder.  It  was  one  and  a  half  stories  high,  low 
and  stalwart,  its  cross-beams  hewn  from  the 
heaviest  oak. 

Turning  back  to  Avenue  A  and  going  north, 
under  Queensboro  Bridge,  you  turn  east  again 
into  61  st  Street.  A  huge  gas  tank  looms;  close 
beside  it,  on  an  elevation  of  groimd,  you  will  see 
a  quaint  house  with  two  wings,  and  a  receding 
entrance  between  them.  Rough,  stoutly  laid 
stones  indicate  ancient  masonry.  This  place 
has  been  known  since  New  York  was  young  as 
Smith's  Folly,  and  thereby  hangs  a  tale. 

Colonel  William  S.  Smith  was  fortunate 
enough  to  lead  to  the  altar  no  less  distingtiished 
a  bride  than  Miss  Adams,  the  daughter  of  the 
President  of  the  United  States.  This  event,  of  so 
great  social  importance,  took  place  not  a  great 
while  after  the  Revolution,  wherefore  the  bridal 
roses  are  faded,  the  echoes  of  the  bridal  music 
vanished,  this  many  a  day.  Nevertheless  this 
memorial  to  Colonel  Smith's  joy  stands;  he  set 
out  to  build  for  his  bride  the  finest  house  possible, 
he  spared  his  purse  not  at  all  (having  been  most 
successful  in  trade,  he  could  afford  to  indulge 
the  fair  lady's  tastes),  and  a  proud  residence  was 
erected,  its  date,  1799,  being  wrought  in  the 
rear  wall  of  the  bam. 


34^  THe  Heart  of  Neijv  YorK 

But  the  roof  was  no  more  than  on  the  btdlding, 
when  Colonel  Smith's  bubble  burst,  he  failed 
completely  in  business,  and  the  name  of  *'  Smith's 
Folly"  was  fixed  upon  the  house  and  bam  for  all 
time. 

The  mansion  was  burned,  and  the  fine  stable 
became  a  dwelling-place.  Later,  Monmouth  C. 
Hart  acquired  it,  and  turned  it  into  a  tavern. 
It  was  used  in  this  way  until  1830,  when  it  was 
bought  by  Jeremiah  Towle,  who  had  visited  it 
in  its  road-house  days,  was  interested  in  its 
quaint  charm,  and  at  last  turned  it  into  a  resi- 
dence, carefully  preserving  all  its  old-fashioned 
features — ^the  tiny  panes  in  the  hall  windows, 
the  ancient  staircase,  the  slim  old  balusters.  It 
is  one  of  the  very  few  Manhattan  residences  now 
standing  which  date  back  of  1800;  those  left  are 
fast  slipping  away. 

Only  in  19 14,  one  landmark  of  this  vicinity 
succumbed  to  progress — ^progress,  heralded  by 
pick  and  shovel  and  crane.  The  old  Schermer- 
horn  farmhouse  stood  until  the  summer  of  that 
year  at  the  foot  of  East  64th  Street,  on  the 
grounds  of  the  Rockefeller  Institute.  It  was 
famed  as  having  been  the  summer  home  of 
Governor  George  Clinton.  It  was  razed  in  a 
week,  and  excavations  were  begun  for  a  new 
building. 

Following  First  Avenue  north  to  68th  Street 
and  ttiming  west  a  few  doors,  you  come  upon 


Baron  Steuben  347 

the  German  Reformed  Chtirch,  156  years  old, 
where  John  Jacob  Astor  served  as  elder  more 
than  a  centtiry  ago.  The  original  chtirch  was 
far  down-town,  but  when  it  was  moved  north  its 
famous  montiment  was  carried  along,  and  you 
will  find  it  to-day,  yellowed  with  years,  set 
in  the  wall  above  the  staircase.  Its  inscrip- 
tion runs: 

"Sacred  to  the  memory  of  Fred^  Will^  Aug* 
Baron  Steuben,  a  German,  Knight  of  the  Order 
of  Fidelity;  aid-de-camp  to  Frederick  the  Great 
King  of  Prussia;  Major  General  and  Inspector 
General  in  the  Revolutionary  War.  Esteemed, 
respected  and  supported  by  Washington,  he  gave 
military  skill  and  discipline  to  the  citizen- 
soldiers;  who  (fulfilling  the  Decrees  of  Heaven) 
achieved  the  independence  of  the  United  States. 
The  highly  polished  manners  of  the  Baron  were 
graced  by  the  most  noble  feelings  of  the  heart. 
His  hand,  'open  as  day  for  melting  charity,' 
closed  only  in  the  strong  grasp  of  Death.  This 
memorial  is  inscribed  by  an  American  who  had 
the  honor  to  be  his  aid-de-camp,  the  happiness 
to  be  his  friend.    Ob.  1795. " 

As  you  continue  north  in  your  walk,  you  are 
passing  through  Jones'  Wood  of  early  days.  It 
is  a  forest  of  buildings  now,  but  once  upon  a 
time  the  farm  of  the  Provoost  family  occupied 
this  vicinity,  and  the  well-known  wood  was  a 
part  of  the  farm.     It  covered  the  East  River 


348  The  Heart  of  New  YorK 

shore,  from  what  is  now  70th  Street,  for  some 
distance  north.  ''Dead  Man's  Rock*'  was  the 
high  point  at  which  the  wood  began.  The  name 
''Jones"  was  attached  to  it  after  the  Pro- 
voosts'  time;  but  the  most  picturesque  part 
of  its  history  was  connected  with  those  earlier 
settlers. 

Two  remarkable  cousins,  Samuel  and  David 
Provoost,  have  passed  into  history.  The  former 
was  the  first  bishop  of  New  York,  and  the 
president  of  Columbia  College.  But  David  was 
famed  in  a  widely  different  way.  He  was  one 
of  the  most  dare-devil  smugglers  known,  and  a 
rocky  hole  once  existing  on  the  shore  of  this 
wood  was  known  as  "The  Smuggler's  Cave.'' 
Here,  and  in  another  cave  across  the  river  at 
Hallett's  Point,  he  hid  his  treasure,  and  the 
boys  of  the  early  eighteen-htmdreds  used  to 
shiver  and  tell  delicious,  creepy  stories  of  the 
old  rascal  whose  ghost  hatmted  these  two  black 
caverns.  Not  imtil  he  was  ninety  years  old 
did  David  yield  up  his  law-defying^  rollicking, 
money-scattering  career. 

Walking  north  to  88th  Street,  you  reach 
Horn's  Hook.  It  is  a  hook  of  land  jutting  out 
from  East  River  Park,  marked  on  present-day 
maps  as  Harris  Hook.  Surmounting  it  stands 
the  once  magnificent  residence  of  Archibald 
Grade,  built  about  18 13,  now  sadly  out  of  repair. 

Siebert  Classen  came  from  Holland  in  days 


s 
s 


g 


The  Grade  Mansion,  at  old  Horn's  Hook. 


Looking  down  the  ''Hollow  Way''  of  the  Revolution,  "  Widow  Davids' s  Meadoiv 
of  Dutch  Days,  now  Manhattan  St. 


Home  of  ArcKibald  Graoie  349 

before  the  Revolution,  made  this  crook  of  land 
his  own,  and  named  it  for  Hoom,  in  Holland, 
which  had  been  his  home.  During  both  wars 
with  England  it  served  as  a  fine  station  for 
batteries,  commanding  the  entrance  below  HeU 
Gate. 

And  the  house  which  later  rose  upon  this  spot! 
Tread  its  broad  halls  to-day  and  conjure  up  the 
visitors  it  has  entertained!  Washington  Irving, 
who  wrote  Astoria  while  visiting  his  friend  Astor 
next  door,  used  often  to  come  here.  Tom  Moore, 
John  Quincy  Adams,  Louis  Philippe,  and  Josiah 
Quincy  were  other  guests.  To-day  the  building 
is  decaying  and  will  soon  be  beyond  repair.  A 
sewing  class  for  girls  and  a  carpenter  shop  for 
boys  occupy  a  small  portion  of  its  spaciousness. 

If  you  will  cross  to  St.  Joseph's  Orphan  Asylum 
on  89th  Street,  the  sisters  will  lead  you  into  the 
inner  court  where  you  can  see  the  old  home  of 
Nathaniel  Prime,  who,  like  Grade,  was  a 
merchant  prince  of  old  New  York.  It  was  built 
in  1800  and  is  included  within  the  present 
asylum  groimds.  Prime  was  first  a  coachman, 
later  the  wealthy  head  of  a  banking-house,  and 
later  still  the  tragic  victim  of  a  poverty-mania, 
in  which  he  ended  his  own  life. 

Grade,  on  the  other  hand,  led  an  even  life  of 
steady  success,  and  his  fleet  of  clippers,  with 
their  red  and  white  signals,  were  a  well-known 
sight  on  every  sea. 


.......  .  ..>..^.a..^.:^^^,.pp..,.^|.ijjgj)fgg^ 


350  TKe  Heart  of  Ne^w  YorK 

Another  little  history-tour  on  Manhattan 
traces  the  Battle  of  Harlem  Heights.  Summon 
your  memories.  .  .  . 

The  fox  chase  bugle  notes  of  the  British 
sounded  across  the  Hollow  Way.  At  once  the 
gallant  Americans  took  up  the  challenge;  sharp 
orders  pelted,  muskets  clattered,  the  flutter  of  a 
flag  retorted.  .  .  . 

But  that  was  almost  a  century  and  a  half 
ago.  To-day,  the  honking  of  many  motors 
sounds  instead  of  the  bugle,  and  the  Hollow 
Way  of  Revolutionary  days  is  Manhattan 
Street  of  191 5,  and  there  are  trolley  cars  and 
coal  and  milk  wagons  that  clatter. 

That  is  to  say,  unless  you  can  blot  out  sights 
and  sounds  of  the  Twentieth  Century  and  step 
back  to  1776.  It  was  just  after  the  Battle  of 
Long  Island,  you  will  recall,  that  the  conflict 
on  Harlem  Heights  took  place.  Mrs.  Lindley 
Murray  of  Murray  Hill,  smiling  and  gracious,  had 
received  Howe  and  his  officers  in  her  home, 
had  lavishly  regaled  them  with  cake  and  wine, 
and  made  herself  so  agreeable  that  it  was  more 
than  two  hours  before  they  could  tear  themselves 
away.  With  a  loyal  Whig  smile  up  her  graceful 
silken  sleeve  Mrs.  Murray  reflected  that  General 
Putnam  was  surely  taking  advantage  of  the 
opportunity  she  was  thus  giving  him. 

Records  have  not  yet  been  found  to  show  that 
*'01d  Put''  ever  missed  any  opportimity  for  a 


Harlem  Hei^Kts  351 

shrewd  military  move.  While  Howe  was  thus 
occupied  with  the  charming  lady's  entertain- 
ment, Putnam  was  able  to  march  his  four 
thousand  men  up  the  shore  of  the  Hudson,  imtil 
he  touched  the  right  wing  of  the  main  army. 
Thus  the  Americans  were  gathered,  Washington 
in  his  headquarters  at  what  was  later  called  the 
Jumel  Mansion. 

iioth  Street  marks  the  southern  botmdary  of 
that  district  formerly  called  Harlem  Heights. 
On  Broadway,  north  of  113th  Street,  stands  St. 
Luke's  Home  for  Aged  Women;  here  is  a  memo- 
rial of  the  battle.  This  height  which  stretches 
about  you  at  this  point,  sloping  down  toward  the 
river  on  the  west,  is  the  land  occupied  by  the 
British  just  before  the  conflict.  The  memorial 
window  is  on  the  staircase  landing  of  the  Home. 

North  along  Broadway,  you  come  to  the 
tablet  at  11 8th  Street,  on  the  Engineering  Build- 
ing of  Columbia  University.  ''To  commemo- 
rate the  Battle  of  Harlem  Heights,  won  by 
Washington's  troops  on  this  site,  September 
16,  1776,"  runs  the  inscription.  The  flags, 
swords,  muskets,  and  smoke  of  battle,  and  heroic 
figures,  are  depicted. 

On  that  auttmm  day  of  '76  which  this  square 
of  bronze  pictures,  the  British  forces  were  roimd 
about  here.  They  had  made  their  camp  on  this 
side  of  125th  Street,  and  were  filled  with  over- 
weening confidence.    It  did  not  disturb  them  in 


352  TKe  Heart  of  Ne-w  YorK 

the  least  that  two  detachments  of  American 
Rangers  had  been  sent  out  that  morning  from  the 
Point  of  Rocks  at  the  comer  of  126th  Street  and 
Columbus  Avenue,  under  the  command  of 
Knowlton  and  Leitch,  with  the  aim  of  getting 
in  the  rear  of  the  British  on  Vanderwater's 
Heights,  now  the  grounds  of  Columbia  Uni- 
versity. Nor  were  they  disturbed  by  a  frontal 
attack;  this,  in  fact,  was  so  unsuccessful  that  the 
British  became  overbold,  and  one  of  their 
buglers  advanced  to  the  height  near  the  river, 
now  Claremont,  and  sounded  the  fox  chase. 
The  insolence  of  the  cfiallenge  roused  all  the 
fire  that  slimibered  under  American  coats. 

The  upshot  was  the  battle  in  the  Buckwheat 
Field.  Where  Barnard  College  rises,  where  its 
athletic  field  fronts  its  doors  of  learning,  there 
waved  the  grain  in  '76.  It  was  to  this  point,  near 
119th  Street,  that  the  Americans  pushed  their 
way;  here  for  two  hours  raged  one  of  the  sharpest 
conflicts  of  the  Revolution.    Shepherd  says: 

''The  field,  snowy  with  the  blossoms  of  coming 
harvest,  an  hour  before  peacefully  smiling  imder 
the  rays  of  a  September  sun,  was  now  ruthlessly 
trampled  by  the  hurrying  feet  of  the  combatants, 
its  sunlight  obscured  by  a  pall  of  dust  and  smoke. 
Still,  though  the  harvest  of  grain  might  be 
destroyed,  a  harvest  of  hope  was  to  be  garnered. 
Another  impetuous  charge,  and  the  British  were 
driven  headlong  from  the  field." 


BlocKKoxise  of  Mornixi^side  Hei^Kts  353 

Before  continuing  in  the  path  of  this  battle- 
story,  it  is  convenient  to  cross  to  Amsterdam 
Avenue,  where  you  can  see  the  remains  of  the 
old  blockhouse  with  its  flying  flag  at  the  head 
of  Morningside  Park.  It  is  associated  with  the 
War  of  1 8 12.  Port  Horn  was  the  height  of 
rocks  just  to  the  south  of  it,  partially  cut  out 
by  a  park  path  to-day,  but  still  high  and  rugged . 
This  point  took  its  name  from  Major  Joseph 
Horn,  who  supervised  the  erection  of  the  works 
at  McGown's  Pass.  Another  memorial  of  the 
War  of  1 8 12  is  to  be  seen  near  by,  in  the  tablet 
on  Fayerweather  Hall,  at  117th  Street  and 
Amsterdam  Avenue. 

Back  to  Broadway  and  the  Revolution.  As 
you  go  north  you  will  find  yourself  descending 
into  a  little  valley,  reaching  its  lowest  line  at 
Manhattan  Street.  This  valley  was  the  boimd- 
ary  line  between  the  British  and  American  camps  ; 
you  have  been  walking  through  the  district  of 
the  former,  you  are  now  confronted  by  the 
latter,  on  the  rising  ground  beyond.  The 
Americans  had  the  advantage  of  a  higher 
position. 

In  pre-Revolutionary  days,  when  Dutch 
names  abounded,  this  depression  of  land,  reach- 
ing west  to  Fort  Lee  Ferry,  had  been  known 
as  Matje  David's  Vly,  or  the  Widow  David's 
Meadow.  In  Revolutionary  days  it  came  to  be 
known  as  the  Hollow  Way.  It  was  across  the 
23 


354  The  Heart  of  New  York 

Hollow  Way  that  the  insolent  bugle  sounded  the 
fox  chase,  from  Claremont  to  the  American 
camp  north  of  the  valley.  At  the  western  end 
of  the  valley  was  a  little  ferry  even  then;  at  the 
eastern  end  was  the  Point  of  Rocks  from  which 
the  Americans  could  watch  the  movements  of 
their  enemies.  This  was  at  Columbus  Avenue, 
^nd  has  been  blasted  away. 

Continuing  north  on  Broadway  to  1626.  Street 
and  turning  east  for  more  than  a  block,  you 
reach  the  Roger  Morris  or  Jumel  Mansion  where 
Washington  made  his  headquarters  from  Sep- 
tember 1 6th  to  October  21st  of  1776.  The 
American  camp  reached  upward  from  the  Hol- 
low Way  to  this  building,  and  commanded  the 
situation.  Here,  in  the  north  room  known  as 
the  Cotmcil  Chamber,  the  General  discussed 
his  plans  and  gave  commands,  to  a  most  suc- 
cessful issue. 

Familiar  as  the  hotise  is,  with  its  quaintly 
furnished  rooms,  its  stately  chairs  and  cabinets 
of  past  days,  its  four-posters  and  other  specimens 
of  mellow  mahogany,  there  are  additions  made 
from  time  to  time  which  give  it  a  refreshed 
interest.  It  is  rather  recently  that  the  attic  of 
the  old  house  has  been  opened  to  the  public, 
and  here  are  displayed  some  of  the  most  delight- 
ful treasures  of  the  whole  building.  The  quilting 
room  has  an  ancient  frame  set  up,  a  quilt  in  the 
making  stretched  upon  it;    The  spinning  room 


Co-wpatKs  and  FootpatKs  355 

has  a  fine  collection  of  old  wheels^  Tucked  away 
under  the  eaves  is  the  candle  room,  with  all  the 
dips  in  a  row,  hanging  by  their  wicks  and  suggest- 
ing a  line  of  Bluebeard's  wives. 

In  the  yard  is  an  ancient  fireplace  and  the 
floor  of  a  hut  used  by  a  military  officer  at  Fort 
Washington.  The  curious  fire  irons  of  1776  are  in 
place,  and  the  floor  has  been  relaid  as  it  was 
originally. 

The  first  streets  on  Manhattan  grew  from 
cowpaths  and  footpaths  which  wound  deviously 
and  wandered  at  their  own  sweet  will.  In  the 
lower  part  of  the  island  to-day,  the  streets  have 
the  same  habit  of  twisting  and  tangling,  follow- 
ing about  the  same  lines  as  the  original  paths. 
The  fort,  standing  where  the  present  Custom 
House  stands,  was  the  heart  of  old  New  York; 
it  furnished  the  center  of  defense,  and,  during 
days  of  peace,  it  furnished  in  its  open  space 
(Bowling  Green)  a  gathering  spot  where  Maypole 
dances  were  held  and  soldiers  paraded. 

Naturally,  roads  led  from  this  fort;  one  in  the 
direction  of  the  Brooklyn  ferry,  practically 
equivalent  to  the  line  of  Stone  Street  and  Pearl 
Street  of  to-day,  winding  up  at  Peck  Slip.  The 
other  set  out  toward  the  north,  through  the 
heart  of  the  island,  and  so  on  into  the  unin- 
habited land  beyond  the  town.  In  Broadway 
of  the  present  we  see  the  traces  of  this.    Later 


356  The  Heart  of  New  Torh 

on,  Wall  Street  followed  the  line  of  a  wooden 
wall.    Albert  Ulmann  says: 

''The  wooden  wall  that  was  erected  along  the 
line  to  which  the  name  still  clings  was  bnilt  in 
1653  to  protect  the  town  against  a  threatened  in- 
vasion of  New  Englanders,  'a  lithe,  slippery,  ag- 
gressive race,'  whom  the  Dutch  looked  upon  half 
in  fear  and  half  in  scorn.  The  invasion  never 
took  place,  but  the  wall  remained  for  nearly  half 
a  century  and  succeeded  nobly  in  keeping  the 
town  from  growing  beyond  its  useless  barrier." 

More  and  more  roads  developed  as  time  ad- 
vanced. One  of  these  was  the  Greenwich  Road, 
about  the  same  as  Greenwich  Street  of  the 
present.  It  came  to  be  a  fashionable  driveway 
when  weather  permitted;  dtiring  violent  rains 
it  was  unpopular,  because  of  its  crossing  of 
Lispenard's  Meadows  and  Minetta  Water. 

The  most  of  New  York's  early  growth  tended 
toward  the  northeast,  hence  the  streets  in  that 
direction  developed  earlier  than  Broadway  and 
the  west  side.  The  Bouwerie  Lane,  later  the 
Bowery,  was  important  among  these. 

There  are  various  origins  alleged  for  the  name 
of  Maiden  Lane,  which  to  the  Dutch  was  ''The 
Maiden's  Path."  It  followed  a  stream,  and 
some  claim  that  here  the  maidens  gathered  on 
wash-day,  hence  the  name.  Others  more  roman- 
tically say  that  it  was  a  lover's  lane  where  the 
most  beautiful  maidens  abounded. 


Poem  by  CHarles  Hanson  To-wne    357 

But  no  street  is  so  filled  with  pulsing  New  York 
life,  both  in  the  present  and  in  tradition,  as 
Broadway.  Stephen  Jenkins  has  summed  it  up 
as  *'The  Greatest  Street  in  the  World/'  It 
deserves  its  own  chapter  as  the  main  artery 
from  the  heart  of  New  York.  It  throbs  with 
the  very  life-blood  of  Manhattan,  which  Charles 
Hanson  Towne  has  described  in  verse: 

Man's  greatest  miracle  is  accomplished  here. 
Steeple  and  dome  he  hurls  high  in  the  air, 
Until,  like  dreams  in  marble  and  in  stone, 
They  lift  their  wonder  to  a  world  amazed. 

So  here,  when  visions  of  new  beauty  rise, 

Behind  them  float  the  dreams  of  cities  old 

Fallen  now  to  silence,  with  the  dust  of  kings. 

Who  wrought  these  granite  ghosts,  saw  more  than  we 

May  ever  see.    He  saw  pale,  tenuous  lines 

On  some  age-mellowed  shore  where  cities  rose 

Proudly  as  Corinth  or  imperial  Rome; 

He  saw,  through  mists  of  vision,  Baghdad  leap 

To  immaterial  being,  and  he  sought 

To  snatch  one  curve  from  her  elusive  domes; 

He  saw  lost  Nineveh  and  Babylon, 

And  Tyre,  and  all  the  golden  dreams  of  Greece, 

Coltunns  and  fanes  that  cannot  be  rebuilt, 

Ev'n  as  Shakespearian  lines  can  never  sing 

Again  on  any  poet's  resplendent  page. 

But  the  vague  Source  of  these  most  lovely  things 

Were  his  for  one  high  instant ;  and  he  caught 

Their  spirit  and  their  glory  for  all  time. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  GREAT  ARTERY — BROADWAY 

BROADWAY  does  indeed  represent,  as  no 
other  street  can  represent,  the  very  heart 
of  New  York.  As  Jenkins  says,  ''it  is  the 
epitome  of  the  life  of  the  great  metropolis,  with 
its  various  activities,  mercantile,  social,  political 
and  theatrical."  To  the  Manhattanite  himself, 
and  to  the  stranger  within  his  gates,  Broadway 
is  New  York. 

As  the  preceding  chapter  has  shown,  its 
development  was  not  as  early  as  that  of  some 
other  streets,  although  its  actual  beginning 
dates  back  to  the  days  of  the  old  fort  at  Bowl- 
ing Green.  But  the  'northwestern  part  of  the 
town  grew  more  slowly  than  the  northeastern, 
and  for  a  time  Broadway  blazed  its  solitary 
trail  through  the  wilderness  in  its  upper  portion. 

The  lleere  Straat  was  the  old  Dutch  name  for 
Broadway.  From  the  fort,  it  went  north  as  far 
as  Park  Row  in  early  days,  following  the  course 
of  Ann  Street.  Orchards  and  gardens,  with  their 
accompanying  homesteads,   flanked  it  in  the 

358 


Putnam  in  Ne-w  YorK  359 

Seventeenth  Century,  and  in  fact  (it  did  not 
cease  to  be  a  residence  street  until  well  into  the 
Nineteenth. 

The  first  building,  geographically  speaking, 
on  Broadway,  is  Number  i — ^the  Washington 
Building.  This  in  itself  is  modem,  but  it  bears  a 
tablet  which  marks  it  as  the  site  of  the  ICennedy 
house,  an  old.  landmark  which  stood  imtil  the 
latter  part  of  the  last  century^  Archibald 
Kennedy  was  a  captain  in  the  British  navy, 
later  becoming  Earl  of  Cassilis,  and  he  built  his 
mansion  on  this  spot,  connecting  it  by  a  bridge 
with  his  father-in-law's  house  at  Number  3,  so 
that  on  the  occasions  of  his  balls  the  belles  of 
old  New  York  were  to  be  seen  passing  back  and 
forth  across  this  rialto  above  the  river  and 
garden. 

When  General  Israel  Putnam  came  to  New 
York  dining  the  Revolution  he  took  up  his 
headquarters  in  this  house  and  remained  here 
until  the  American  forces  were  driven  from  the 
city.  It  was  in  April,  1776,  that  he  came  to  take 
command  of  New  York  until  the  arrival  of 
Washington.  Later  on,  it  was  for  a  time  the 
residence  of  Nathaniel  Prime,  the  wealthy 
merchant,  whose  up-town  dwelling  we  visited 
in  the  preceding  chapter. 

Bowling  Green,  adjoining  the  ancient  fort, 
was  the  center  of  life  in  early  days,  when  soldiers 
and  merrymakers  gathered  there.    In  the  follow- 


360  THe  Heart  of  Vleynr  YorK 

ing  centtiry,  when  the  days  of  the  Revolution 
approached,  it  saw  stirring  events.  The  gilded 
equestrian  statue  of  George  III,  which  had  been 
set  up  in  1770,  was  torn  down  by  a  riotous  mob 
six  years  later,  and  the  lead  of  which  it  was 
made  was  converted  into  bullets  for  the  Ameri- 
can army.  It  is  said  that  42,000  bullets  were 
made  from  the  statue,  by  the  wife  and  daughter 
of  Oliver  Wolcott  of  Connecticut.  The  tail  and 
bridle  of  the  horse,  together  with  a  portion  of  the 
pedestal,  have  been  preserved  in  the  musetim  of 
the  New  York  Historical  Society. 

Where  Wall  Street  meets  iJroadway  stands 
Trinity  Church,  the  parish  dating  from  1696. 
The  plot  of  land  now  occupied  by  the  church 
and  graveyard  was  set  aside  in  early  days  as  a 
garden  for  the  Dutch  Company.  The  old  Dutch 
burying-ground  was  closed  about  1676,  and  this 
plot  has  been  used  as  a  burying-ground  since  that 
time.  Many  famous  Americans  have  been  laid 
to  rest  here;  the  sarcophagus  of  Captain  James 
Lawrence  is  one  of  the  most  widely  known 
tombs  within  the  old  yard  His  words,  ''Don't 
give  up  the  ship!''  have  passed  into  history. 

The  original  church  was  burned  in  1776,  re- 
built after  the  Revolution  and  the  jresent 
building  was  erected  in  1839.  The  bron  e  doors 
were  designed  by  St.  Gaudens,  and  the  reredos 
was  the  gift  of  J.  J.  and  William  Astor. 

Just  above,  where  a  modem  skyscraper  stands, 


'Smith's  Folly,''  Built  for  a  Bridal  Gift  to  the  Daughter  of  President  Adams. 


The  Old  Home  of  Nathaniel  Prime,  the  Merchant  Prince  of  Early  Days, 


The    Van    Cortlandt   Mansion. 


Montgomery's  Burial  361 

was  the  fine  house  of  the  Van  Cortlandt  family, 
and  the  sugar-house  was  behind  it.  Before 
leaving  Broadway,  we  shall  come  to  another 
Van  Cortlandt  home,  which,  happily,  is  well 
preserved. 

St.  Paul's  Church,  near  Fulton  Street,  was 
one  of  Trinity's  many  children,  but  the  building 
itself  is  older  than  the  present  Trinity  building, 
dating  back  to  1764.  The  pew  occupied  by 
Washington  is  preserved.  General  Richard 
Montgomery  was  buried  here;  his  remains 
having  been  brought  from  Quebec  where  he 
fell.  Upon  leaving  his  wife  for  the  expedition 
against  Quebec  it  is  said  that  he  told  her,  '*My 
honor  is  engaged,  and  you  shall  never  blush 
for  your  Montgomery." 

So  ended  an  ideally  romantic  love-story,  for 
the  two  were  never  to  meet  again.  The  funeral- 
boat  bearing  his  remains  came  slowly  down  the 
river,  and,  looking  from  her  house,  she  saw  it 
approach.  '*The  pomp  with  which  it  was  con- 
ducted added  to  my  woe,"  she  wrote.  He  was 
buried  with  the  honors  of  war. 

Across  the  way  from  St.  Paul's  the  old  Astor 
House  was  opened  in  1836,  and  the  names  of  its 
early  patrons  include  almost  all  the  famous 
persons  who  visited  New  York  in  those  days. 
Irving,  Dickens,  Jenny  Lind,  Hawthorne,  Daniel 
Webster,  Abraham  Lincoln,  and  Henry  Clay  are 
some  of  the  names  picked  up  at  random. 


362  The  Heart  of  New  YorK 

Broadway  continues  past  City  Hall  Park, 
which  was  the  Commons  of  earlier  days,  and 
played  a  vital  r61e  in  the  city's  history.  It  came 
to  be  a  meeting-place  on  public  occasions,  when 
speeches  were  to  be  made  and  the  voice  of  the 
people  heard.  The  first  popular  assembly  in 
opposition  to  the  Stamp  Act  was  held  here 
November  i,  1765.  Over  and  over  similar 
meetings  were  held  here  during  the  months 
before  its  repeal.  In  rum  and  ale  and  a  roasted 
ox  the  people  celebrated  their  victory  the  follow- 
ing year — on  the  Commons,  also. 

Early  government  was  conducted  on  and 
about  the  Commons.  The  poor-house  was 
erected  where  the  county  court-house  now 
stands,  and  near  it  the  jail.  Stocks,  cage,  pillory, 
and  whipping-post  were  added  to  the  gloomy 
gathering.  Not  far  away,  near  the  corner  of 
Chatham  and  Chambers  streets,  the  gallows 
was  erected,  having  been  removed  from  the 
neighborhood  of  the  old  fort.  The  famous  old 
Bridewell  was  built  near  Broadway  in  1775,  and 
served  as  a  patriot  prison,  along  with  the  jail, 
during  the  Revolution. 

To-day  our  own  modem  City  Hall  stands  on 
the  site  of  these  early  buildings,  in  the  thick  of 
their  history.  Among  the  interesting  spots  now 
to  be  seen  is  the  ''Governors'  Room,"  containing 
portraits  of  almost  the  complete  line  of  New  Yorlc 
State  governors,  beginning  with  George  Clinta  1. 


Irving  and  Terry  363 

The  statue  of  Nathan  Hale,  by  Macmonnies, 
stands  near  by,  opposite  the  post  office  and  facing 
Broadway.  Jenkins  relates  the  story  of  pointing 
out  this  statue  to  an  Englishman  who  looked 
long  at  the  bronze  face,  then  said: 

''If  that  is  a  correct  picture  of  Hale,  surely  no 
man  was  less  fitted  to  be  a  spy  than  he/' 

The  old  theatrical  district  began  on  Broad- 
way not  far  above  the  Commons.  The  Broad- 
way Theater  was  between  Pearl  and  Worth 
streets — ^Edwin  Forrest  and  young  Lester  Wal- 
lack  are  among  the  names  associated  with  its 
halcyon  days.  The  first  Wallack's  Theater  was 
at  the  comer  of  Broome  Street,  the  second  at 
13th  Street,  and  many  a  famous  production 
saw  its  first  night  in  these  two  houses.  Henry 
Irving  and  Ellen  Terry  made  their  first  Ameri- 
can appearance  in  the  upper  house,  which  had 
been  named  the  Star;  Booth  and  Barrett, 
Bernhardt  and  Modjeska,  added  to  its  glory. 

A  walk  along  all  these  blocks  of  lower  Broad- 
way is  a  passing  among  ghosts,  for  not  a  stone  is 
left  of  most  of  the  buildings  once  famous.  The 
birthplace  of  Julia  Ward  Howe,  for  instance, 
used  to  stand  at  the  corner  of  Bond  Street;  one 
of  the  homes  of  Fenimore  Cooper  was  a  house 
near  Prince  Street;  but  these,  along  with  the 
other  homes  of  distinguished  Americans,  old 
hotels,  theaters,  and  famous  business  centers, 
have  vanished.     Only  some  half-century  ago 


364  TKe  Heart  of  Ne-w  YorK 

Pfaff's  beer-cellar  near  Bleecker  Street  was  the 
chosen  resort  for  such  bohemians  as  Walt 
Whitman,  Artemus  Ward  (C.  F.  Browne),  Henry 
Clapp,  and  many  more.  Wilson  says,  "  Lounging 
into  Pfaff's  place  one  day  in  1856,  in  company 
with  Fitz- James  O'Brien,  he  [Clapp]  was  so 
delighted  with  the  beer  served  him  that  he 
straightway  sounded  its  praises  among  his 
comrades,  who  thereupon  made  Pfaff's  their 
favorite  resort/' 

Jenny  Danforth  and  Ada  Clare  were  two  of 
the  brilliant  members  of  this  group.  The  latter 
was  both  actress  and  author,  as  well  as  beauty, 
''and  the  embodiment  of  female  bohemianism. 
She  parried  thrusts  of  wit  as  deftly  as  a  swords- 
man would  a  foil,  and  her  laugh  rang  the  clearest 
when  an  tmfortunate  one  was  tmhorsed  in  the 
shock  of  intellect." 

Niblo's  Gardens — ^the  old  National  Academy 
of  Design — ^the  farm  of  Andrew  Elliott  at  Fourth 
Street — ^they  are  among  the  procession  of  mem- 
ories. Grace  Chtirch  at  the  comer  of  loth 
Street  dates  back  to  1846,  a  comparatively  early 
year  when  one  looks  down  the  line  of  modern 
buildings  leading  up  to  it. 

A  century  ago  and  more,  the  Bowery  and 
Broadway  were  the  two  important  thorough- 
fares of  the  island.  In  1807  the  commissioners 
laid  out  a  plan  to  make  these  two  roads  meet  at 
the  ''Tulip  Tree"  which  stood  in  what  is  now 


Union  Square  365 

Union  Square.  Above  Union  Square  was  the 
Bloomingdale  Road  in  those  years.  Broadway 
had  bent  at  loth  Street,  just  below,  to  pre- 
serve the  Brevoort  homestead,  and  at  Union 
Square  it  met  the  Bloomingdale  Road  which 
started  on  its  course  by  making  a  diagonal  line 
across  the  Square. 

In  the  center  of  Union  Square  a  large  fountain 
was  placed  in  1842,  to  mark  the  introduction  of 
Croton  water  into  the  city.  It  has  remained 
ever  since,  surroimded  by  tulips  and  pansies 
each  spring. 

A  statue  of  Lincoln  stands  in  Broadway  near 
the  Square.  The  story  is  told  that  while  a 
Lincoln's  Birthday  celebration  was  taking  place 
all  around  the  statue,  nobody  remembered  to  de- 
corate the  bronze.  Late  in  the  day  a  policeman 
passed  and  observed  the  neglect;  he  hied  him  to 
the  nearest  florist,  purchased  a  small  bouquet 
of  carnations,  laid  it  on  the  bronze  arm,  and  for 
many  days  the  withered  little  offering  clung  to 
the  great  sculptured  figure. 

Madison  Square  is  on  the  site  of  the  old 
Potter's  Field.  It  was  laid  out  for  a  parade 
ground,  to  extend  as  far  north  as  34th  Street. 
Gradually  its  outline  contracted,  but  it  still 
remains  a  refreshing  spot  of  green  in  the  midst 
of  a  seething  city.  Opposite,  on  the  west  side  of 
Broadway,  stood  the  famous  old  Hoffman 
House,  in  the  bar-room  of  which  the  paintings 


366  THe  Heart  of  Ne^w  YorK 

attracted  visitors  from  all  over  the  country. 
Nymphs  and  Satyr  by  Bougereau  was  particu- 
larly admired,  among  works  by  the  greatest 
artists  of  two  continents. 

Prom  this  point  on  came  to  be  the  chief  hotel 
district,  the  Gilsey,  the  Grand,  and  the  Albemarle 
being  among  the  list.  It  is  not  many  years, 
indeed,  since  the  hotels  moved  up  ten  to  twenty 
blocks,  and  left  this  district  to  its  traditions. 

Passing  on  up  through  the  many  blocks  now 
given  over  to  new  theaters  and  hotels,  we  arrive 
at  Long  Acre  Square,  or  Times  Square  as  it  is 
now  known,  where  the  New  York  Times  building 
rears  its  many  stories.  Jenkins  gives  the  follow- 
ing account  of  its  Revolutionary  history: 

"On  the  fifteenth  of  September,  1776,  the 
British  landed  at  Kip's  Bay  from  Long  Island 
with  the  intention  of  cutting  off  the  American 
Army,  then  in  full  retreat.  The  greater  part  of 
the  army  was  well  up  on  the  Bloomingdale  Road, 
but  Putnam  with  four  thousand  troops  was  still 
in  the  city.  Washington  despairingly  attempted 
to  prevent  the  landing  of  the  British  on  the 
shore  of  the  East  River,  but  his  troops  fled 
almost  before  a  shot  was  fired.  Word  had  been 
sent  to  Putnam  to  join  the  chief,  and  he  hurried 
his  troops  out  of  the  city.  Guided  by  Aaron 
Burr  over  the  Middle  Road  from  the  fortifica- 
tions above  Canal  Street,  he  managed  to  escape 
the  cordon  of  British  troops  being  thrown  across 


Coxintry  Seats  of  Colonial  Day's     367 

the  island  and  joined  the  chief  on  the  Blooming- 
dale  Road  at  this  point,  barely  getting  through 
in  the  nick  of  time.  A  tablet  to  commemorate 
this  joyfnl  meeting  of  the  two  generals  was 
erected  on  the  west  side  of  the  sqtiare  by  the 
Sons  of  the  Revolution/' 

Country  seats  of  wealthy  New  York  merchants 
occupied  the  bank  of  the  Hudson  in  colonial 
days,  reaching  along  near  the  Bloomingdale 
Road.  Lorillard,  Livingston,  and  Clarkson  were 
among  the  well-known  property  owners  below 
96th  Street.  Some  of  the  estates  were  con- 
fiscated during  the  Revolution  because  of  the 
Loyalist  tendency  of  their  owners. 

At  68th  Street  you  will  find  the  Bloomingdale 
Reformed  Dutch  Church,  lineal  descendant 
of  the  old  church  built  close  by  in  1805.  Yellow 
fever  had  broken  out  in  the  city  below,  and 
many  inhabitants  desired  to  hold  service  in 
this  safer  locality;  hence  the  establishment  of 
the  church. 

Broadway  uptown  passes  over  Harlem  Heights 
of  the  battle  story,  and  through  the  property 
of  Columbia  University,  once  King's  College. 
Changes  have  taken  place  in  the  course  of  the 
old  street,  and  the  present  Broadway  does  not 
coincide  in  all  parts  with  the  old  road;  but  if 
you  will  turn  east  at  Manhattan  Street,  for  about 
half  an  ordinary  block,  then  go  north  to  Law- 
rence Street,  you  will  come  upon  a  short  street 


368  The  Heart  of  New  York 

marked  "Old  Broadway.'*  This  follows  for  its 
brief  course  the  actual  line  of  the  old  Blooming- 
dale  Road.  Near  it  is  St.  Mary's  Church  on 
Lawrence  Street;  it  is  only  a  few  years  ago  that 
the  original  building,  more  than  a  century  old, 
gave  way  to  the  new.  It  is  said  that  the  early 
parishioners  who  lived  farther  down-town  used 
to  come  to  church  by  boat,  up  the  North 
River, 

On  the  old  road,  at  140th  Street,  Alexander 
Hamilton  erected  his  country  residence  which 
he  named  "The  Grange,"  after  his  ancestral 
home  in  Scotland.  The  building  has  been  moved, 
and  now  stands  on  the  east  side  of  Convent 
Avenue,  used  for  the  parish  house  of  St.  Luke's 
church.  Hamilton  always  drove  back  and  forth 
from  this  house  to  his  city  office.  On  the  day 
when  he  was  to  meet  Aaron  Burr,  in  response  to 
the  duel  challenge,  he  set  out  to  drive  to  town 
as  usual,  without  letting  his  wife  know  that  he 
might  never  return. 

The  Jimiel  Mansion  has  been  mentioned  in 
the  preceding  chapter.  It  was  built  by  Roger 
Morris  for  his  bride,  Mary  Philipse  of  Yonkers. 
The  legend  of  Mary's  suitors  has  been  told  in 
Chapter  XVIII.  Later  it  came  into  the  posses- 
sion of  John  Jacob  Astor,  and  about  a  century 
ago  he  sold  it  to  Stephen  Jumel,  whose  brilliant 
widow  lived  to  become  the  reluctant  bride  of 
old  Aaron  Burr,  who  won  her  by  bringing  a 


Fort  Washington  369 

clergyman  along  as  his  lieutenant,  and  demand- 
ing that  the  wedding  take  place  then  and  there. 

Above  here,  at  i68th  Street,  Broadway  and 
the  Kingsbridge  Road  become  one,  and  con- 
tinue under  the  name  of  the  former.  It  leads 
us  past  Port  Washington,  that  sister  fort  of  Lee 
on  the  Palisades,  whose  plans  were  drawn  by 
Washington's  engineer.  Major  Rufus  Putnam^ 
It  is  the  highest  point  of  land  on  Manhattan 
Island,  and  offered  a  remarkable  situation  for  a 
defense;  this  fact  was  appreciated  by  the  British, 
who  took  it  and  re-named  it  Fort  Knyphausen. 
A  marble  seat  and  tablet,  the  gift  of  James 
Gordon  Bennett,  mark  the  site  of  the  fort. 

The  King's  Bridge  of  old  days  stood  about 
twenty  yards  east  of  where  the  bridge  of  to-day 
stands.  It  was  built  in  1693  and  was  established 
by  Royal  Grant  of  William  and  Mary  to  Freder- 
ick Philipse  of  the  Manor  of  Philipsburgh.  Its 
successor,  built  in  17 13,  saw  the  retreat  of 
Washington's  troops  in  October  of  '76,  and  was 
broken  down,  but  repaired.  After  the  Revolu- 
tion a  new  and  good  bridge  was  built. 

Among  the  old  homes  to  be  fotmd  along 
Broadway  is  the  Dyckman  house,  at  the  comer 
of  209th  Street.  Another  is  the  Macomb 
mansion  facing  the  Broadway  bridges  In  the 
Seventeenth  Century  this  was  a  public  house; 
at  the  time  of  the  Revolution  it  was  "Cox's 
Tavern";  and  in  1797  it  was  bought  by  Alexan- 


370  THe  Heart  of  Ne^w  YorK 

der  Macomb,  From  Fordham,  Edgar  Allan 
Poe  often  came  to  visit  at  the  house.  The  old 
inn  is  referred  to  by  Cooper;  in  Satanstoe  he 
shows  us  his  hero,  Corney  Littlepage,  and  Dirck, 
Comey's  friend,  often  stopping  at  this  hostelry, 
which,  in  the  tale,  was  kept  by  Mrs.  Lighte. 

General  Macomb  built  a  dam  and  mill  near 
by.  About  the  middle  of  the  last  century  the 
house  was  sold  to  J.  H.  Godwin. 

Above  here  our  way  leads  to  Van  Cortlandt 
Park,  named  for  the  owner  of  the  mansion  still 
preserved  within  its  boundaries.  The  house  was 
built  in  1748,  and  is  now  in  the  charge  of  the 
Colonial  Dames,  who  have  established  a  musetim 
within  its  walls.  Frederick  Van  Cortlandt  was 
the  builder. 

In  Revolutionary  days  the  building  served  as 
headquarters  for  the  Hessian  Jaegers.  One  of 
the  traditions  of  the  house  is  that  therein  expired, 
in  the  arms  of  his  betrothed,  one  Captain  Rowe 
of  the  Jaegers,  who  had  received  a  mortal  wotmd 
while  battling  with  some  American  troops  not 
far  away. 

Many  famous  guests  were  entertained  at  the 
house,  Washington  having  spent  a  night  there, 
just  before  he  left  for  Yorktown  in  178 1.  Again, 
in  1783,  he  found  lodging  there,  just  before 
entering  New  York  by  way  of  King's  Bridge. 
Rochambeau,  and  King  William  IV  (then  the 
Duke    of    Clarence)    were    entertained    there. 


D\itcK  Keystones  371 

Frederick  Van  Cortlandt  died  the  year  after 
erecting  the  btiilding,  but  his  eldest  son,  Jacobus, 
fell  heir  to  it  and  maintained  it  with  all  the 
ambition  which  his  father  had  shown. 

Near  the  house  is  preserved  a  window  of  the 
old  sugar  house  in  Duane  Street.  Another 
point  of  interest  is  the  set  of  old  Dutch  keystones 
above  the  windows  of  the  house. 

Broadway  now  proceeds  to  Yonkers.  We 
have  already  followed  it  to  Sleepy  Hollow. 


ITINERARIES 


373 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

EASY  ROUTES  FOR  THE  TRAVELER  OF  TO-DAY 

IN  setting  out  to  make  the  little  pilgrimages 
*  aroimd  Manhattan  which  have  been  sketched 
in  the  foregoing  chapters,  the  traveler  in  auto- 
mobile or  carriage,  or  the  doughty  pedestrian, 
will  probably  find  sufficient  directions  within 
the  chapters  themselves.  For  him  who  travels 
by  ferry,  trolley,  or  railroad,  the  following  brief 
itineraries  may  prove  convenient. 

Long  Island 

I .     To  Jericho.     (Chapter  IL) 

Take  L.  I.  R.  R.  to  Jamaica;  or  go  from 
Brooklyn  Bridge  by  Elevated  Road  (Lexington 
Avenue  and  Cypress  Hills  train)  to  terminus  at 
Cypress  Hills.  Take  Jamaica  trolley  to  King's 
Park.     See  other  landmarks  on  Ftdton  St. 

Take  trolley  to  Hollis. 

Take  electric  car  to  Hempstead.  Runs  every 
half-hour. 

Take  trolley  to  Mineola,  then  to  Hicksville. 

375 


yj6  Itineraries 

By  leaving  the  car  en  route,  and  walking  to  the 
north,  a  detour  may  be  made  to  Old  Westbury. 
From  Hicksville,  walk  or  procure  a  conveyance 
for  Jericho  (about  two  miles). 

2.  To  Astoria  and  Flushing.     (Chapter  III.) 
Take    Second   Avenue   trolley    or    Elevated 

Road  to  92d  St. 

Walk  east  to  the  river,  and  take  Astoria  ferry. 

Take  Broadway  trolley;  at  Woodside,  transfer 
to  Flushing  trolley.  Leave  the  car  at  St.  George's 
Church,  Main  St.  Other  landmarks  within  short 
walking  distance;  Quaker  Church  near  the  Play- 
groimd,  Bowne  House  on  Bowne  Ave.,  etc. 

3.  To  Flatlands.     (Chapter  IV.) 

Take  Brooklyn  subway  to  Atlantic  Avenue. 

Take  Flatbush  Ave.  trolley  to  Lefferts  Home- 
stead, 563  Flatbush  Avenue.  Walk  to  points 
named  near  by. 

Continue  on  Flatbush  Ave.  trolley  to  Flat- 
lands  Church,  King's  Highway. 

Return  to  trolley,  continue  to  point  of  transfer, 
take  Bergen  Beach  car. 

4.  Over    the    Battleground    of    Long     Island. 

(Chapter  V.) 

Take  Myrtle  or  De  Kalb  Ave.  car  at  Brooklyn 
Bridge,  ride  to  Fort  Greene  Park. 

Take  Myrtle  Ave.  car,  transferring  to  Vander- 
bilt  Ave.  car,  to  Prospect  Park. 


Staten  Island  Roxites  377 

Walk  up  Eastern  Drive  to  Battle  Pass  Tablet, 
thence  to  Lookout  Hill. 

From  Ninth  St.  entrance  of  Park  take  car  to 
Greenwood  Cemetery. 

(Side  trips  may  be  made  to  Navy  Yard, 
entrance  at  Sands  St.,  and  to  Battle  Tablet  at 
comer  of  Flatbush  Ave.  and  Fulton  St.) 

New  York  Harbor  and  Sandy  Hook  Region 

5.  The  Highlands.     (Chapter  VI.) 

At  foot  of  West  42d  St.  take  Sandy  Hook 
route  steamer  to  Atlantic  Highlands,  or  C.  R.  R. 
of  N.  J. 

Take  Leonardo  trolley  to  Chapel  Hill  Road. 
Walk  to  Chapel  Hill,  about  a  mile.  Various 
points  to  be  seen  close  together. 

Start  along  highway  toward  the  coast.  Short 
detour  to  Lighthouse. 

Continue  to  Water  Witch.  Return  by  boat 
or  train.  It  is  possible  to  return  from  the 
Highlands  to  New  York  by  trolley,  by  way  of 
South  Amboy.    This  requires  several  hours. 

Staten  Island  and  Beyond 

6.  To  Oude  Dorp.     (Chapter  VII.) 

Take  ferry  to  St.  George,  Staten  Island,  at 
South  Ferry.  Walk  to  Lighthouse  Reservation, 
then  to  Public  Museum. 


378  Itineraries 

Returning  to  Bay  St.,  take  trolley  to  Grant, 
^Tlanters'  Hotel/' 

Continue  on  Bay  St.  to  Clinton,  walk  up 
Pavilion  Hill.  Return  to  Bay  St.  and  walk  to 
other  points  named.  Detour  at  Chestnut  Ave. 
to  Garibaldi  House. 

South  Beach  car  to  Fort  Wadsworth  and 
Arrochar  Park. 

7.  To  Richmond,     (Chapter  VIH.) 

St.  George  ferry  and  Richmond  car  to  Emerson 
Hill. 

Continue  on  Richmond  car,  stopping  at 
Perrine  house,  to  New  Dorp.  Leave  car  at 
Moravian  Church.  Walk  to  Black  Horse  Tav- 
ern and  Fountain  House. 

Continue  on  car  to  its  terminus  at  Richmond. 

8.  Tottenville  and  Perth  Amhoy.     (Chapter  IX.) 
St.  George  ferry,  Staten  Island  Railroad  to 

Tottenville.  The  ferryboats  which  leave  on  the 
hour  connect  with  the  trains. 

Walk  to  Billopp  House,  then  cross  by  ferry  to 
Perth  Amboy. 

Return  by  C.  R.  R.  of  N.  J. 

New   Jersey 

9.  Newark.     (Chapter  X.) 

Take  Cortlandt  or  Desbrosses  St.  ferry  to 
Jersey  City,  then  trolley  to  Newark.  Or  take 
Tube  directly  to  Newark. 


Ne-w  Jersey  Routes  379 

Visit  points  near  Market  and  Broad  sts., 
going  north  to  State  and  Broad,  the  old  Plume 
Homestead. 

Take  Clinton  Ave.  car  to  Gouvemeur  St., 
walk  to  Mt.  Pleasant  Ave.,  see  Cockloft  Hall. 

Take  Main  Line  trolley  to  Old  Lyons  Farms, 
leaving  car  at  Chancellor  St. 

10.  Elizabeth  and  Beyond.     (Chapter  XI.) 
Take  Penn.  R.  R.  to  Elizabeth;  or,  Tube  to 

Newark,  thence  Main  Line  trolley,  leaving  car 
at  East  Jersey  St. 

Continue  to  Rahway  by  Penn.  R.  R.,  thence 
to  Woodbridge,  by  branch  railroad. 

Or,  continue  on  main  line  of  Penn.  R.  R. 
through  Rahway  to  New  Brunswick. 

New  Brtmswick  can  be  reached  by  trolley 
from  Elizabeth  by  way  of  Boimd  Brook.  Main 
Line  trolley. 

11.  Plainfield    and    Bound    Brook.     (Chapter 

xn.) 

Take  C.  R.  R.  of  N.  J.  to  Plainfield. 

Take  trolley  to  Dtmellen,  and  make  side  trip 
to  Washington  Rock. 

Continue  by  trolley  to  Botmd  Brook. 

Or,  take  Tube  to  Newark,  and  thence  trolley 
all  the  way.  The  running  time  from  Newark 
to  Boimd  Brook  is  about  two  and  one-half  hours. 


38o  Itineraries 

12.  To  Springfield  and  Morristown.     (Chapter 
XIII.) 

Take  D.  L.  and  W.  R.  R.  to  Milbiim,  thence 
continue  by  trolley  to  Springfield,  Chatham, 
Madison,  and  Morristown.  Rettim  by  D.  L. 
and  W.  R.  R. 

Or,  take  Tube  to  Newark,  thence  trolley  all 
the  way,  stopping  at  above-named  towns.  This 
trolley  goes  all  the  way  to  Lake  Hopatcong. 
At  Newark,  take  Springfield  Ave.  line  to  Maple- 
wood,  changing  there  for  Springfield  car. 

13.  To  Passaic  and  Pater  son.     (Chapter  XIV.) 
Take  Erie  R.  R.  to  Passaic. 

Continue  on  same  railroad  to  Paterson.  (Or 
go  by  trolley.) 

Upon  returning,  detour  by  trolley  may  be 
made,  from  the  Erie  R.  R.  on  the  New  Jersey 
side,  to  Weehawken,  to  see  Hamilton  montiment. 

Or,  take  Broadway  subway  to  Manhattan 
St.  station,  go  west,  and  take  Fort  Lee  ferry, 
at  its  terminus  take  trolley  for  Paterson,  and 
return  by  way  of  Passaic.  It  is  possible  to 
trolley  from  Paterson  to  Passaic,  to  Hoboken, 
to  Weehawken. 

In  Paterson,  take  Singac  car  for  Falls. 

14.  To   Alpine,    Fort    Lee,   and    Hackensack. 
(Chapter  XV.) 

Take  N.  Y,  C.  and  H.  R.  R.  R.  to  Yonkers. 


"WestcHester  Covinty  Roxites  38'! 

(Or  Broadway  subway  to  terminus,  then  trolley 
to  Getty  Square,  Yonkers.) 

Take  ferry  to  Alpine. 

Walk  south  along  shore  to  Fort  Lee  (about 
7  miles). 

Take  trolley  to  Hackensack. 

Return  by  trolley  to  Fort  Lee  ferry,  cross,  and 
take  subway. 

Or,  return  by  Erie  R.  R.  from  Hackensack  to 
New  York. 

Rockland  County,  New  York 

15.  Sneden's  Landing  and  Tappan.     (Chapter 
XVL) 

Go  to  Dobbs  Ferry  by  N.  Y.  C.  and  H.  R.  R.R. 
(Or,  trolley  to  Hastings  as  in  16,  then  take 
railroad  to  Dobbs  Ferry.) 

Take  ferry  to  Sneden's  Landing. 

Walk  up  Palisades  and  on  to  Tappan. 

Westchester  County,  New  York,  and  into 
Connecticut 

16.  Along  the  Hudson  to  Sleepy  Hollow.    (Chap- 
ter XVH.) 

It  is  possible  to  trolley  to  Hastings,  going  by 
Broadway  subway  to  terminus,  then  trolley  to 
Getty  Square,  then  taking  Warburton  Ave.  car 
to  Hastings. 


3^2  Itineraries 

Or,  take  N.  Y.  C.  and  H.  R.  R.  R.  to  Hastings. 

Continue  by  same  railroad  to  Dobbs  Ferry, 
Irvington,  Tarrytown  and  Sleepy  Hollow. 
(Philipse  Manor  is  the  station  for  the  last-named 
point.) 

17.  On    the    Sawmill    River    Road.     (Chapter 
XVHL) 

Go  to  Yonkers  by  N.  Y.  C.  and  H.  R.  R.R.  or 
by  trolley.     (See  14.) 

Take  same  railroad  (Putnam  Div.)  to  Ardsley. 

Walk  to  Rochambeau  house. 

Continue  on  same  railroad,  or  walk,  to  Elms- 
ford. 

Walk  to  Four  Comers. 

18.  To    White   Plains    by   way   of    Scarsdale. 
(Chapter  XIX.) 

Take  N.  Y.  C.  and  H.  R.  R.  R.  (Harlem  Div.) 
to  Tuckahoe,  Scarsdale,  Hartsdale,  White  Plains, 
and  North  White  Plains. 

Or,  take  Bronx  Park  subway  to  West  Farms 
station,  then  trolley  to  Mt.  Vernon,  and  there 
take  White  Plains  trolley,  stopping  at  other 
points  en  route. 

Or,  take  N.  Y.,  W.,  and  B.  electric  road  to 
White  Plains. 

Walk  from  White  Plains  to  North  White 
Plains  if  you  are  to  see  ancient  mortar  about 
midway  between. 


Bronx  Routes  383 

19.  The  Boston  Post  Road.     (Chapter  XX.) 
Take  N.  Y.,  N.  H.,  and  H.  R.  R.  to  Eastchester 

(Mt.  Vernon),  New  Rochelle,  Mamaroneck,  Rye, 
Greenwich,  and  Cos  Cob. 

Or,  take  Third  Avenue  Elevated  Railroad 
to  129th  St.,  thence  N.  Y.,  W.,  and  B.  electric 
road  to  Kingsbridge  Road  station.  (This  is 
Eastchester.) 

Continue  on  same  railway  to  New  Rochelle. 

Take  Stamford  trolley  to  all  other  points. 

The  Bronx 

20.  Throg's  Neck  and  City  Island.  (Chapter 
XXL) 

Take  N.  Y.,  N.  H.,  and  H.  R.  R.  (Harlem 
River  Branch)  to  Hunt's  Point,  Clason  Point, 
Westchester  (Throg's  Neck),  City  Island  Sta- 
tion. 

By  taking  Third  Ave.  Elevated  Railroad  to 
129th  St.,  and  there  taking  the  Westchester 
Ave.  trolley,  it  is  possible  to  trolley  all  the  way 
to  Clason  Point  and  Westchester.  Trolley 
continues  part  of  the  way  down  Throg's  Neck, 
one  must  walk  or  drive  the  rest  of  the  way. 

Trolley  to  end  of  City  Island. 

Or,  take  Government  boat  directly  to  Fort 
Schuyler  (Throg's  Neck).  Pass  must  be  secured 
in  advance  from  the  Commandant  at  Fort 
Schuyler.    Boat  goes  Tues.,  Thurs.,  and  Sat. 


3^4  Itineraries 

Manhattan 

21.  Old  Manhattan.     (Chapter  XXII.) 

Take  Second  Ave.  Elevated  Railroad,  walk 
east  on  53d  St.,  continue  north  to  various  points, 
walking  or  by  trolley,  to  89th  St.  (East  Side 
trip.) 

Take  Broadway  subway  to  Cathedral  Park- 
way station,  continue  north,  walking  or  by 
trolley,  to  various  points  as  far  as  Manhattan 
St.  There  take  subway  again  for  Roger  Morris 
Mansion  (i62d  St.).  (Trip  over  battleground 
of  Harlem  Heights.) 

22.  Broadway.     (Chapter   XXIII.) 

The  Van  Cortlandt  House,  Macomb  House, 
and  other  points  named  in  the  northern  part  of 
the  city  are  most  conveniently  reached  by  the 
Broadway  subway. 


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INDEX 


Acquackanonk,  207 

roads,    ferry,    and    bridge, 
207,  210 
Adams,  Miss,  345 
Albany  Post  Road,  252 
All  Souls'  Hospital,  202 
Alpine,  220 

Amherst,  Sir  Jeffrey,  115 
Anderson,  Stephen,  306 
Andr^,  Major,  243,  265,  266 

monument,  249 
Archer,  Stephen,  254 
Ardsley,  281 
Areson,  John,  19 
Arnold,  Benedict,  247,  266,  268 

Jacob,  203 

tavern,  202 
Arrochar,  107 
Arthur  Kill,  132 
Asgill,  Capt.,  93 
Aspinwall  house,  45 
Astor,  J.  J.,  38,  347,  360,  368 

house,  361 

William,  360 
Astoria,  36,  38 

Ferry,  36 
Atlantic  Highlands,  94 

Babcock,  Luke,  280 
Babylon  stage  trip,  32 
Bacon,  E.  M.,  229 
Bangs,  J.  K.,  281 
Bamet,  Dr.  William,  156 
Barren  Island,  59 
Barretto,  Francis,  324 

Point,  323 
Bartholdi,  statue  by,  81 
Bartow,  Rev.,  22 
Battles, 

Bound  Brook,  184 

Elizabethtown,  168 


Harlem  Heights,  350 

Long  Island,  63 

Springfield,  190 

White  Plains,  297 
Bayard  home,  219 
Baylor,  Lieut.-Col.,  242 
Bedloe,  Isaac,  81 
Bedloe's  Island,  81 
Beeson,  Congressman,  9 
Belcher,  Gov.,  161 
Bennett,  James  Gordon,  369 
Benton,  Lieut.-Col.,  116 
Bergen  Beach,  56 

homestead,  57 

John,  58 
"Big  House,"  the,    Palisades, 

N.  Y.,  241 
Billopp,  Capt.,  124,  127 

Christopher  (the  younger), 
129 

Eugenia,  129,  130 

house,  125 

Thomas,  130 
Black  Horse  Tavern,  115 
Blackwell,  Robert,  344 
Blackwell's  Island,  344 
Bloodgood,  Dr.,  45 
Bloomingdale  Road,  365,  368 
Boisaubin,  Vincent,  196 
Bolton,  Robert,  291,  294,  303 
Borghim,  Solon,  309 
Boston  Post  Road,  305 
Bottle  Hill,  195 
Boudinot,  Elias,  159 

Susan,  159 

family,  309 
Bound  Brook,  184 
Bowery,  the,  356 
Bowling  Green,  355,  359 
Bowne,  Eliza,  43 

house,  41 


393 


394 


Index 


Bowne,  John,  41 . 

Thomas,  44 
Boxwood  Hall,  158 
Brevoort  homestead,  365 
Brinkerhoff,  Jacob,  232 
Broadway,  252,  351,  358 
Bronx  roads,  323 
Bronxdale,  290 
Bronxville,  291 
Brooklyn,  62 

ferry,  19 

roads,  66 
Brooklyn   and    Jamaica    Turn- 
pike Co.,  20 
Brown,  C.  T.,  ill 

Hachaliah,  322 

Jonathan,  322 
Budd,  John,  322 
Bukett,  ferryman,  19 
Bull's  Ferry,  234 
Burdett,  Etienne,  225 

home,  224 

Peter  and  wife,  224,  225 
Burdett's  Ferry,  224 
Burr,  Aaron,  46,  219,  368 

Rev.  Aaron,  144 
Bush,  Capt.  and  daughter,  318 
Butler,  William  A.,  281 


Caldwell,  Parson,  160,  163,  190, 

191 
Camp  Ground,   Bound   Brook, 

186 
Carleton,  Gen.,  255 
Carpenter,  Increase,  24 
Carteret,  Elizabeth,  167 

George,  167 

Philip,  167 
Castle  Hill  Neck,  326 
Cedars  of  Lebanon,  45,  330 
Chapel  Hill,  85 

lighthouse,  90 
Chatham,  194 
Chatterton's  Hill,  299 
Chimney  Rock,  188 
Churches, 

Bloomingdale,  367 

Chapel  Hill,  89 

Dutch,  Elmsford,  285 
Flatbush,  52 
Flatlands,  55 


Hackensack,  232 
Passaic,  210 
Eastchester,  306 
Friends',  Flushing,  40 

Plainfield,  177 
German     Reformed,     New 

York,  347 
Grace  Episcopal,    Jamaica, 

22 
Grace    Episcopal,         New 

York,  364 
Methodist  Episcopal,  Harts- 
dale,  295 
Presbyterian,    Elizabeth, 

Presbyterian,  Jamaica,  22 
Morris  town,  201 
Newark,  143,  144 
Paterson,  217 
Springfield,  190 
St.    Andrew's,    Richmond, 

120 
St.  George's,  Flushing,  39 

Hempstead,  28 
St.  John's,  Yonkers,  279 
St.  Mary's,  New  York,  368 
St.  Paul's,  New  York,  361 
Trinity,  Newark,  146 
New  York,  360 
City  Island,  333 
Clare,  Ada,  364 
Claremont,  352,  354 
Clarke,  Maj.,  121 
Clarkson  family,  367 
Clason's  Point,  326 
Classen,  Siebert,  348 
Clayton,  W.  Woodford,  176 
Clifton,  104 
CHnton,  Gov.  George,  346 

Sir  Henry,  oi,  245 
Close,  Nathaniel,  322 
Closter  Landing,  220 
Clute,  J.  J.,  97,  104 
Cochran,  Dr.  John,  199 

William  F.,  280 
Cockloft  Hall,  149 
Golden,  Cadwallader  D.,  8 
Columbia  University,  351,  352, 

353 
Coney  Island,  82 
Conover,  D.,  83,  86 
Cooper,  Daniel,  171 


Index 


395 


C(X)per,  Penimore,  288, 293, 314, 

329»  363 
Comelisson,  Michael,  154 
Cornell,  Thomas,  325 
Cornell's  Neck,  325 
Comwallis,  Gen.,  221 

headquarters,  221 
Cortelyou,  Aaron,  114 

family,  113 

Jm49 

Phebe,  53 

Simon,  82 
Cos  Cob,  318,  320 
Covenhoven,  Capt.  Joseph,  92 
Covert,  Luke,  187 
Cowboys,  256 
Cozzens,  F.  S.,  281 

Davis,  William  T.,  133 
Dayton,  Jonathan,  159,  160 
De  Lancey  house,  314 

Maj.,  25 
De  Lancey's  "Light  Horse,"  340 
Delaval,  Mayor,  6 
De  Lave,  Mons.,  216 
Denton's  Brief  Description,  170 
De  Peyster  family,  309 
De  Warville,  Brissot,  139 
Dickerson,  Capt.  Peter,  201 
Dickerson's  Tavern,  200 
Dickinson,  Jonathan,  168 
Disbrow  chimney,  313 

family,  314 
Ditmas,  Henry  S.,  54 
Dix  house,  160 
Dobbs  Ferry,  237,  254 

Jeremiah,  237 
Dongan,  Gov.,  119 
Dongan  Hills,  111,114 
Doremus  house,  217 
Doughty,  Elias,  275 

Gen.  John,  201 
Drake,  Joseph  Rodman,  324 

Thomas,  325 
Duffore,  David,  345 
Dunbar,  post  rider,  32 
Dunellen,  182,  187 
Duxbury,  Ellis,  120 
Dyckman  house,  369 

Eastchester,  306 
Elizabeth,  155 


Elizabeth  roads,  156,  168,  170 
Elliott  farm,  364 
Ellis  Island,  80 
Elmsford,  282 
Emerson  Hill,  no 
Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  11  i 

William,  no 
Englewood  Pier,  224 
Erasmus  Hall  High  School,  53 
Erskine,  Robert,  217 

Farmar,  Thomas,  129 

Thomas,  Judge,  129 
Fay  house,  307 

Theodore  S.,  307 
Featherstone  house,  284 
Ferris  family,  327 

James,  327 

John,  327 
Filipson,  Frederick,  270 
Fiske,  John,  75,  245,  266 
Flanagan,  Betty,  289 
Flandreau  house,  310 
Flatbush,  51 

roads,  49,  60 
Flatlands,  54 

roads,  49,  60 
Flushing,  I,  39 

Bridge  and  Road  Co.,  35 

Institute,  45 

roads,  35,  36 
Forbes,  Philip  J.,  26 
Ford,  Jacob,  197 
Forts, 

at  Elizabeth,  162 

Hamilton,  82 

Lee,  225 

Nonsense,  203 

Putnam,  67 

Schuyler,  331 

Totten,  332 

Wadsworth,  106 

Washington,  227,  369 
Fort  Lee,  village,  225 
Fountain  house,  118 
Four  Comers,  287 
Fox,  George,  41 

Oaks,  42 
Franklin,  Gov.  William,  134 
Freneau,  Philip,  94 
Friends  at 

Flushing,  40 


396 


Index 


Friends  at — Continued 

Jericho,  30 

Plainfield,  177 

Westbury,  30 

Woodbridge,  170,  178 
Fry,  Elizabeth,  43 
Fulton,  Robert,  8 
Furman,  Gabriel,  32,  42 

Garibaldi,  G.,  104 

house,  104 
Garrison,  Nicholas,  112 
Gerritsen  family,  209 
Gibbet  Island,  60,  80 
Gibbs,  Pirate,  59,  80 
Gilman,  Charles,  176 

widow  of,  176 
Glentworth,  secessionist,  89 
Glover,  Col.,  339 
Glover's  Rock,  339 
Godwin,  Abraham,  216 
Godwin,  J.  H.,  370 
Gould,  Helen  M.,  264 

Jay,  265 
Gouverneur  family,  149 
Governor's  Island,  80 
Governor's    Mansion,    Perth 

Amboy,  134 
Gowanus,  63 

Gracie,  Archibald,  348,  349 
Graham,  Robert,  296 
Gravesend  Bay,  82 
Great  Barn  Island,  36 
Greene,  Gen.,  66,  190,  228,  245 
Greenwich,  319 
Greenwich  Road,  356 
Greenwood  Cemetery,  72 
Grey,  Gen.,  242 
Griffin,  Col.,  121 

Rev.,  145 

Hackensack,  231 

River,  232 

Turnpike,  224 
Hale,  Nathan,  363 
Half  Moon,  the,  222 
Hall,  Matilda,  88 

Ralph  and  Mary,  337 
Hallett,  William,  37 
Hallett's  Cove,  37 

Point,  37 


Hamilton,  Alexander,  161,  199, 

212,  218,  368 
Hamilton,  J.  C.  L.,  282 
Haring,  Peter,  221 
Harlem  Heights,  351 
Harrington,  221 
Harris  Hook,  348 
Hart,  Monmouth  C,  346 
Harte,  Bret,  193 
Hartsdale,  294 
Hasbrouck  family,  254 
Hastings,  253 

Havemeyer  estate,  329,  330 
Haviland's  Inn,  316 
Heathcote  family,  291,  292 
Heathcote  Hill,  313,  315 
Hempstead,  28 

Turnpike,  27 
Hermit's  Point,  224 
Hetfield  house,  163 
Hicks,  Deborah,  337 

Elias,  30 
Hicksites,  31 
Hicksville,  31 
Hodgson,  Robert,  59 
Hoffman  House,  365 
HolHs,  24 

Hollow  Way,  350,  353 
Holly  house,  318,  321 
Hollywood  Inn,  280 
Hopping  family,  86,  87 
Horn,  Maj.,  353 
Horn's  Hook,  3A8 
Hotels  on  Broadway,  366 
Hotine  house,  45 
Howard's  Half  Way  House,  68 
Howe,  Gen.,  44,  65,   102,   106, 

298,  301,  339,  350 
Howe,  Julia  Ward,  363 
Huddy,  Capt.,  92 
Hudson,  Hendrick,  94 
Huguenots,  at 

New  Rochelle,  307,  311 

Staten  Island,  96,  97,  118 
Hunloke,  Capt.,  162 
Huntington  estate,  329,  330 
Hunt's  Point,  323 
Hurd,  D.  Hamilton,  322 
Husted,  British  guide,  285 
Hutchinson,  Anne,  306 
Huyler's  Landing,  223 
Hyler,  Capt.,  173 


Index 


397 


Indians 

Jameco,  23 

Mohicans,  274, 294, 316, 326 

Rockaway,  23 
IngersoU,  Robert,  312 
Inn  at  Scarsdale,  292 
Inyard,  Elizabeth,  113 
Irving  family,  257 
Irving,   Washington,    149,    228, 

256,  268,  270,  271,  349 
Irvington,  256 
Irwin,  D.  H.,  87 
Iselin,  Jacob,  284 
Islip,  13 

Jamaica,  20 

Jamaica  and  Jericho  Turnpike, 

20,  30 
Jameson,  Col.,  267 
Jay  family,  309 
house,  315 
John,  315 
Jenkins,  Stephen,  5,  8,  11,  238, 

264,  276,  281,  315,  336,  357, 

366 
Jericho,  30 
Jersey,  the,  76 
Jersey  City,  153 
Job  Male  Library,  181 
Jockey  Hollow  Road,  203 
Johnes,  Parson,  200 
Johnson,  J.,  49 
Jones'  Wood,  347 
Jouet,  Cavalier,  164 

house,  163 
Jumel  Mansion,  354,  368 
Jumel,  Stephen  and  widow,  368 

Kelley,  Frank  Bergen,  126,  343 
Kemble,  Gouverneur,  149 
Kennedy,  Archibald,  359 

house,  359 
King,  Rufus,  20,  21 

Mansion,  20,  21 
Kingsbridge,  14 

Road,  369 
King's  Bridge,  369 
King's  Highway,  Long  Island,  60 

New  Jersey,  156 
Knight,  Madam  Sarah,  10,  305, 

315 
Knyphausen,  Gen.,  190 


Landon,  Melville  D.,  281 

La  Tourette  house,  185 

Lawrence,  James,  360 

Lee,  Charles,  227 

Lee,  "Light  Horse  Harry,"  153 

Lefferts  family,  53 

J.,  49 

Pieter,  51 
Leggett  family,  325 
Leisler,  Jacob,  308 
L'Enfant,  Maj.,  214 
Leonard  family,  84 
Leonardo,  84 
Lester,  Henry,  311 
Lewis,  Dr.  Dio,  281 
Liberty  Hall,  164 
Lighthouse  Reservation,  Staten 

Island,  100 
Lilienthal,  C.  H.,  252 
Lincoln,  Gen.  Benjamin,  184 
Lincoln  statue,  New  York,  365 
Linnaean  Botanic  Garden,  44 
Lippincott,  Capt.,  92 
Livingston  family,  367 

J.  H.,  54 

Mansion,  Dobbs  Ferry,  254 

Philip,  330 

Susannah,  155 

Van  Brugh,  238,  254 

William  and  daughters,  164 
Loofburrow,  John,  87 
Lorillard  family,  367 
Lossing,  Benson  J.,  94,  204,  229, 

248,  298,  300,  303 
Lott  house,  54 
Low,  C.  P.,  279 
Lower  Closter,  223 
Luquer  family,  309 
Lyndehurst,  264 
Lyons  Farms,  150 

homestead,  152 

school,  151 

Macedonia^  the,  336 
Mack,  Arthur  C,  226 
Macmonnies,  Frederick,  363 
Macomb,  Alexander,  369 

Mansion,  369 
Madison,  195 
Magaw,  Col.,  228 
Maiden  Lane,  356 
Mamaroneck,  313 


398 


Index 


Manhattan,  343 

roads,  343,  355 
Manning,  Capt.  John,  344 
Mansion    House,    Hackensack, 

231 
Marine  Hospital,  Staten  Island, 

104 
Marquand  family,  309 
Marsh  family,  136 

John,  169 
Marshall  house,  338 
Martyrs'  Tomb,  Brooklyn,  70, 

7^ 
Marvin,  Walter,  310 
Maryland's  Four  Hundred,  71 
M'Dougal  at  White  Plains,  300 
McKee,  James  W.,  216 
Meeker,  William  and  family,  152 
Mercer,  Gen.  Hugh,  120 
Merritt  conservatories,  265 
Middlesex  and  Essex  Turnpike, 

171 
Middletown  Road,  83,  90 
Milestone,  at  Scarsdale,  292 
Mill,  at  Plainfield,  180 
Miller  farmhouse.  White  Plains, 
^  303 

Monckton,  Gen.,  115 
Monmouth  County,  91 
Montgomery,  Gen.  Richard,  361 
Moravians,  112 
Morris,  Ira  K.,  103 
Col.  Roger,  278 
Turnpike,  189,  194 
Morristown,  196 
Mortar,  at  White  Plains,  301 
Mount  family,  86 

inn,  of  Cornelius,  88 
Mt.  Vernon,  306 
Muhlenburgh,  Rev.,  45 
Murray,  Mrs.  Lindley,  350 

National  Academy  of   Design, 

364 
Navesink,  oo 
Navy  Yard,  Brooklyn,  76 
Neilson  home,  172 
Nepperan  River,  274,  275 
Nesbit,  Thomas,  179 
"Neutral  Ground,"  255 
Newark,  139 

roads,  139,  149 


New  Brunswick,  171 

roads,  156,  171 
New  Dorp,  112 
New  Jersey  Historical  Society, 

146 
New  Rochelle,  307 
New  Utrecht,  12 
News  History,  the,  207 
Niblo's  Gardens,  364 
Nicolls,  Gov.,  5 
North  Castle,  301 
North  White  Plains,  302 

Odell  home,  281 

Old  Blazing  Star  Landing,  122 

Old  Ferry  Point,  327 

Olinville,  290 

Oliver,  David  and  son,  169 

Orchard  Bay,  338 

Oude  Dorp,  107 

Paine,  Thomas,  225,  229,  311 
Palisades,  New  York,  241 

the,  220 
Panton,  Rev.  George,  280 
Paramus  Landing,  237 
Parks, 

City  Hall,  362 

Fort  Greene,  64,  66 

Hudson,  308 

Joseph  Rodman  Drake,  324 

Madison  Square,  365 

Morningside,  353 

Palisades  Interstate,  220 

Prospect,  70 

Putnam's  Hill,  319 

Union  Square,  365 

Van  Cortlandt,  370 
Parker  Castle,  135 

James,  135 
Passaic,  Falls  of  the,  13,  212 

River,  208,  232 
voyage,  206 

roads,  207 

town,  208 
Patch,  Sam,  216 
Paterson,  212 

roads,  208 

Patterson  home,  86 

Paulding  farm,  288 


John,  266,  267 
PhiHpR.,    - 


265 


Index 


399 


Pavilion  Hill,  102 
Peach  War,  108 
Peel,  Sir  R.,  43 
Pelham,  307 
Pell,  John,  309,  310 
Perrine  family,  113 

homestead,  iii 
Perth  Amboy,  134 
Pfaff's  beer  cellar,  364 
Philipse  family,   Frederick  and 

others,  275,  276,  279 
Philipse  Manor   House,  Sleepy 
Hollow,  271 
Yonkers,  276 

Mary,  278,  368 
Picture  of  New  Yorky  the,  12,  15 
Pierce,  William  W.,  136 
Pierson,  Rev.  A.,  144,  145 
Pine  Robbers,  91 
Pintard  house,  310 
Plainfield,  177 

roads,  174,  175 
Planters'  Hotel,  Staten  Island, 

lOI 

Plume  homestead,  147 
Pocantico  Creek  and  bridge,  269 
Poe,  Edgar  Allan,  370 
Pompton,  217 
Poor,  Enoch,  233 
Port  Chester,  317 
Porter,  Capt.  George,  90 
Post,  Peter,  253 
Powles  Hook,  153 

ferry,  153 
Poyer,  Rev.  Thomas,  40 
Prime,  Nathaniel  S.,  historian, 

33 
merchant  prince,  349,  359 
Prince  house,  45 
William,  44 
Princeton  College,  168 
Provoost,  David,  348 
farm,  347 
Samuel,  348 
Putnam,  Gen.  Israel,  67,  76,  228, 
300,  318,  319,  350,  359, 
366 
Rufus,  369 
Putnam  Cottage  (museum),  320 

Quarantine,  New  York,  98 
Queen  Anne,  28,  120 


Rahway,  168 
Randolph,  J.  P.,  179] 
Ravenswood,  37 
Richards,  Rev.  James,  145 
Richbell,  John,  294 
Richmond,  no,  119 

Road,  III 
Ringwood,  217 
Rocnambeau,    Gen.,    255,    281, 

284 
Rockaway,  13 
Rockefeller,  William,  270 
Rodman's  Neck,  338 
Roger  Morris  Mansion,  354,  368 
Rogers,  William,  244 
Romer  family,  286 
Rose  and  Crown,  102,  116 
Rosebank,  104 
Ross,  Peter,  60 
Rowe,  Capt.,  370 
Rushmore,  Isaac,  7 

Rye,  315 

Salmagundi,  149 
Salter,  Edwin,  87 
Sandy  Hook,  14,  83 
Satanstoe^  329,  370 
Sawmill  River,  274,  275 

Road,  273 
Saxon,  William,  294 
Say  re,  Ephraim,  196 
Scarsdale,  291 
Schenck  house,  56 

Wilhelmina,  56 
Schermerhorn  house,  346 
Schuyler,  Elizabeth,  199 

Gen.  Philip  S.,  199,  333 
Scott,  Gen.  Wmfield,  157 
Seabury  family,  28 
Shadyside,  234 
Shaw,  William  H.,  192 
Shepard,  Mrs.  Pinley,  264 
Skinners,  256 
Sleepy  Hollow,  268 
Smith,  "Caty,"  161 

Joshua,  243,  266 

Rev.  Thomas,  285 

Col.  William  S.,  345 
Smith's  Folly,  345 
Sneden  house,  240 

Molly,  239,  240 
Sneden 's  Landing,  237 


400 


Index 


South  Beach,' 109 

South  worth,  Mrs.  E.  D.  E.  N., 

281 
Spangenburg,  Bishop,  112 
Split  Rock  Road,  339 
Spong,  Sarah,  55 
Springfield,  189 

Turnpike,  189 
Spyy  the,  289,  293,  313 
Staats,  Abraham,  185 
Stapleton,  104 
Staten  Island,  96 

Association    of    Arts    and 
Sciences,  100 

ferries  and  roads,   96,   97, 
109,  125,  133 
Stepping  Stones,  the,  329 
Steuben,  Baron,  186,  347 
St.  George,  99 
Stirling,  Gen.,  70,  72 
St.  Joseph's  Orphan  Asylum,  349 
St.     Luke's    Home    for    Aged 

Women,  351 
Stoffelson,  Jacob,  208 
**Stone  House,"  the  "'76,"  248 
Stone,  WilHam,  7 
Stony    Brook,    Staten    Island, 

115,  119 

Storm,  Abraham,  287 
Storm's  Bridge,  283 
Storm  Ship,  the,  259 
Strickland's  Plain,  321 
Stuyvesant,  Peter,  58 
Sullivan,  Gen.,  69 
S.  U.  M.,  the,  213 
Sunnyside,  257 
Swaine,  Capt.,  and  daughter,  144 

Tallmadge,  Maj.,  244,  268 
Tappan,  241 

Zee,  257,  259 
Tarrytown,  265 
Taylor,  E.,  83 

family,  86,  88 

S.,  83 
Tefft,  Carl  E.,  225 
Thatcher,  Dr.,  249 
Theaters,  old  Broadway,  363 
Thompson,    Benjamin    P.,    21, 
23.26,35,46    .  ,    , 

Mrs.  (Washmgton's  house- 
keeper), 198 


Throckmorton,  John,  328 
Throg's  Neck,  328 
Tilden,  Samuel  J.,  253 
Times,  the  New  York,  366 
Times  Square,  366 
Tippett  family,  325 
TodtHill,  114 
Tompkins,  Judge  Caleb,  293 

D.  D.,  106,  292 

family,  291 

John,  306 
Tompkinsville,  loi 
Totten  family,  132 
Tottenville,  124 
Towel,  Jeremiah,  346 
Towne,  Charles  Hanson,  357 
Treat,  Robert,  143 
Tuckahoe,  291 

Ulmann,  Albert,  356 
Underclifif  Settlement,  224 
Underbill,  Capt.,  321 
Union  Hall  Academy,  22 
United  Brethren,  Staten  Island, 

112 
Untermyer,  Samuel,  253 
Urquhart,  F.  J.,  140,  146 

Van  Cortlandt  family,  270,  361 

Frederick,  370 

Jacobus,  371 

Mansion,  370 
Van  Dam,  Rip,  19 
Vanderbilt,  Cornelius,  103 

houses,  Staten  Island,  102, 
103;  Flatbush,  54 

Jacobus  and  Vettje,  112 

mausoleum,  113 

Phoebe,  103 

Rem,  53 

Sarah,  53 

William  H.,  114 
Vanderbilt's    Periauger    Ferry, 

lOI 

Van  der  Donck,  Adrien,  274 
Van  Deursen,  William,  172 
Vandeveers,  G.,  49 
Van  Duzer's  Ferry,  loi 
Van  Nuise  home,  172 
Van  Tassel,  Cornelius,  282 

family,  286 

Jacob  and  family,  263 


Index 


401 


Van  Twiller,  Wouter,  81 
Van  Wagoner  family,  224 

home,  209 
Van  Wart,  Isaac,  266,  286 

Rachel,  286 
Van  Winkle,  Cornelius,  216 

ferryman,  19 
Verveelen,  Johannes,  6 
Vreeland  homestead,  109 
Vulture,  the,  243 

Wakefield,  290 
Waldenses,  96,  97,  115,  118 
Wall  Street,  356 
Wallabout,  63 
Walloons,  96 
Ward,  Josiah,  144 
Ward's  Point,  132 
Washington  at 

Dobbs'  Ferry,  259 

Elmsford,  283 

Fort  Lee,  228 

Long  Island,  75 

New  York,  354,  367 

Passaic,  211 

Plainfield,  182 

Rye,  316 

White  Plains,  301 

Yonkers  (tradition    of    ro- 
mance), 278 
Washington  Headquarters  at 

Hackensack,  232 

Morristown,  196 

Plainfield,  182 

Roger  Morris  Mansion,  354 

Tappan,  244 

White  Plains,  302 
Washington,  Martha,  166,  197, 

202,  240 
** Washington  Rock,"  the,  Ma- 
maroneck,  314 


Washington's  Rock,  Plainfield, 

181 
Washington's  Well,  226 
Water  Witch,  94 
Water  Witch,  the,  131 
Wayne,  Gen.,  196 
Weehawken,  218 
Wells,  Lemuel,  279 
Westbury,  30 
Westfield,  175 
White,  Philip,  93 
White  Plains,  295 

courthouse,  295 

Road,  290 
Wick,  Tempe,  204 
Wicker's  Creek,  256 
Willett  family,  325 
William  IV.,  44 
Williams,  David,  266 

Robert,  30 

Roger,  328 
Willis,  N.  P.,  250 
Willock's  Lane,  house  in,  135 
Wilson,  James  Grant,  8 

Rufus  Rockwell,  364 
WolferVs  Roost,   257 
Woodbridge,  170,  178 
WoodhuU,  Gen.  Nathaniel,  24, 

296 
Woodruff,  Samuel,  158,  160 
Wright,  lighthouse  keeper,  90 

Yonkers,  274 

ferry,  220 
York,  Duke  of,  127,  146 
Youle,  tower  built  by,  344 
Young,    Joseph     and     lamily, 
288 

Zabriskie,  Peter,  231,  232 


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