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The Kitchen in Washington's Headquarters at
Morristown, New Jersey.
From a Photograph by Parker, Morristown.

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Jj~~P~iS6  - I. 3

Old Roads from the
Heart of New York
Journeys Today by
Ways of Yesterday
Within Thirty Miles Around the Battery
Sarah Comstock

With 100 Illustrations by the Author and Others
G. P. Putnam's Sons
New York and London
Ube 1rnickerbocher Vrezs

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tbe ItknfcJerbocher tlress, P~ew Worh

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L. S. C.

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P ICTURE a searchlight installed at the Battery, 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 approximately 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 course of every road. No attempt has been
made to trace the old routes of land- and watertravel 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

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The Searchlight

indebted for assistance in collecting material
and locating landmarks, my thanks would describe 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 furnished
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
volumes omit. The story of Andr6's capture,
traced on both sides of the Hudson River,
follows in the main the account given by Fiske

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The Searchlight


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, 1915.
' The extracts on pages 75, 76, and 245-248 are reprinted by
permission of Houghton, Mifflin &amp; Co.

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FLATLANDS.....   48
PUTNAM.....   62

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TO-DAY..... 375

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WOODBURY)... 375
(BROOKLYN)..... 376
9.-NEWARK....... 378

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WEEHAWKEN)..... 380

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RUFUS KING......  23
JAMAICA......  30
CAPTURED.......  31
Fox PREACHED......  38

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ERECTED IN 1694.....  42
FLUSHING...... 43
ISLAND.......  58

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ANVIL, AT CHAPEL HILL..           85
YORK HARBOR.....  94
From a photograph by George Wright.

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Photograph by A. R. Coleman.
1858. NEAR ST. GEORGE FERRY... 105
Photograph by F. M. Simonson.
BUILT 1734, (PERTH AMBOY)... 130

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LED TO THE RIVER...... 131
SCOTT LIVED...... 159

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WASHINGTON...... 174
SITE OF THE BATTLE OF 1777.... 175
Photograph by Collier.
1788......  186
By permission of Rev. Andrew M. Sherman.
WEEHAWKEN...... 214

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MAIL COACH...... 289

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TO A SIGN-POST..... 308

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MAP.......  AT END

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Old Roads from the
Heart of New York

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WHEN the early New Yorker, with a hogshead 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 universal 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; nevertheless the Manhattanite accepted the conditions
of travel, for travel he would
Smug in the thought of our Twentieth Century
tubes and ferries, our trolleys and subways and
express trains and automobiles, we hardly realize how much traveling he did. Manhattan
then, as now, was the hub from which darted
forth innumerable 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,

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piquing the curiosity at every turn, lies enticing
land. The first impulse 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 journey 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 gradually 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 commerce, 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

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A Ferry to Brounchsland


thrown. These conditions hardly made for comfortable 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, entered 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 Century. In The Story of the Bronx Stephen Jenkins 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, however, until 1666, when Governor Nicolls 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 particular 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

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thorities of Harlem, in carrying out the provisions of the charter, determined to establish 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 competition 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,

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A Bridge at Broadwaa


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 Westchester 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 ferryboat 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 flatboat summoned by the blowing of a
horn. The crossing of the rivers was difficult, 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
"When a boy of fifteen I first visited New

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I ntroductory

York City, in 18oi. 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 jumped."
The "horse-boats" were an innovation and
solved many problems of crossing the East and
North rivers, clumsy as they appear to us today. The paddle-wheels which propelled them
were turned by four horses, which walked around
a shaft on board the boat. The fare charged
was four cents. Up to 1812, 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 comments, 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, 17o8, estab

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The TurnpiKe Era


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 endeavoring 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 hereabouts. (The 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 everywhered 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 I8o6 by Congress, saying
that the smithies of the country would ring
with the horseshoes it would wear out, and no

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I ntroductory

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 lumbering 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
ye 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 "advancement" on her part. Travelers of the
gentler sex usually rode seated on a cushion behind 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

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Early Type of Stage Wagon


developed, and it ruled 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 curtains 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 preferred on account of the passengers being able
to lean against the back of the wagon. If there
were women passengers, they were usually allowed 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

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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
sure, 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 traveled, and the visitor to New York was a sightseer 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 Neighborhood 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 Flatbush. On the road thither, the traveller may

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Tours a Century Ago


note several things connected with the Revolution. [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 Bedford, and by the half-way house. But a more
agreeable and instructive route is by the new
road, over the Wallabogt bridge, through Bushwick and Newtown to Jamaica. The millpond over which this bridge passes, belongs to
the national navy-yard. The road from Newtown and Flushing is shortened 2 or 2K 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
cross the Hudson from Courtlandt 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

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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 hour 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 hereabout. On an album at the inn you may write
your name and your reflections.
"5. To KING'S BRIDGE. This may be performed by proceeding from one of the livery
stables or genteel boarding houses in the lower
parts of the city.

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Old-Time Excursion to Sandy Hooli 15
BANKS. There are several modes of being conveyed 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
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
A similar volume, published in 1828 and entitled The Picture of New-York and Stranger's
Guide to the Commercial Metropolis of the United
States, adds to the above tours similar jaunts
to Long Branch and Staten Island. It also
gives directions for the "Tour around Manhattan Island," by boat, which "may be conveniently made in a few hours," and calls attention
to the many reminders of Revolutionary history 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,

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16         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.

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a                            '


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TURNING toward the east, the early New
Yorker began his jaunt by means of a
ferry to jrooklyn, or Breuckland-broken land)
When John Areson was the lessee, the charge of
ferriage for a single person was eight stivers in
wampum, 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 company.
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 Revolution, 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 chapter alone-the Battle of Long Island. We will
follow the great artery which led directly east
into the island.

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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 present-day municipality when it demands improved
traffic control and underground trolley wires.
(The restraint of willful hogs was an advanced
thought in that day]
Jamaica was progressive. Along with Brooklyn, it had deplored the conditions of travel on
the island, and when, in the early eighteen-hundreds, 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
(Jamaica is a town of much historic interest.
Its most distinguished building is the former
home of Rufus King, or King's Mansio_) 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 within its walls many relics-carved furniture of ancient pattern, a quaint marriage chest, and so

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King in the Senate


on. (Qn Mondays between ten and four o'clock
this museum is opej)
This dignified building was erected in 1750,
although it was not until 18o5 that it won the
distinction of being King's country seat. It
was then that he had finished his arduous duties
as (inister to the Court of St. James, the appointment made by Washington and endorsed
by Adams and Jefferson) 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 followed.
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
accurate 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 exclusion 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."

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Continuing along Fulton Street, the introduction 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
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 Burying 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 request of' fifty individuals, including Eliphalet
Wickes. It was the third academic building on
Long Island, or rather, the original was, for the

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Cannon at Iollis, near the Spot where TToodhulll was Captured.

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

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Beginnings of Jamaica


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 supposed, 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 obtained 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 nests,"
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 166o, that the inhabitants 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."

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Items which he quotes from other records
are as follows:
April 30, 1661. "Voted to hire a person to
keep the towne's cowes and calves for the year,
and also to pay Mr. Coe ~II.I7s. in good passable wampum out of money lent to the towne
by Nicholas Tanner."
May 12, 1661. "Whereas the towne are informed off one yt milkt other ffolke cowes, being
catcht by some off the town, they have chosen
William ffoster to prosecute ye cause to ye uttermost, either here or at the Manhattans, and
the towne will satisfie him ffor what charge he
shall be at about ye business."
January 30, 1662. "The town doe promis
to give Abraham Smith 30 s. ffor beating y~
drum a year."
Hollis is about a mile east of Jamaica. Here
the Woodhull tradition centers. You will find,
still standing, the tavern erected in 171o 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
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.

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Capture of Woodhull


A detachment of the I7th Regiment of British dragoons and the 7Ist Regiment of infantry
composed  the party, under the guidance
of certain inhabitants who had become disaffected.
Woodhull, realizing that he was discovered,
immediately gave up his sword in token of surrender, but this was not enough to satisfy the
officer who approached him. This is said to
have been Major Baird, of the 71st 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 compelling him to say "God save the King! ", now carried 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

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that an officer, observing his condition, remonstrated with those in charge of the affair, and the
upshot was that Woodhull 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
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 Woodhull 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!

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"Full Twenty Foes "


"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 inclin'd?"
"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
Uprais'd 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 commemorated on the grounds of a public school
near the tavern, where stands a cannon, a monument to Woodhull. 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

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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 distinguished 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 Interr'd The Body
of the Revd 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

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"The Sinn of Drunhennesse"


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 Indians. The group followed the next spring,
crossing the Sound and landing at Hempstead
Harbor. They immediately began their settlement, where the town arose later, and obtained  their patent or ground-brief from
These Puritans, religious and sober-minded
though they were, nevertheless permitted the
sale of intoxicating liquors within their boundaries. They issued licenses for the same, ordaining 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^t the Sinn of drunkennesse, and that
wee finde by daylie Experience, that itt is practised in this place to ye 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 ye first fault

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Io guilders, for the second 20 guilders and for
the third to stand to the determinacion of ye
court according to ye 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
On the trolley route between Mineola and
Hicksville, the traveler passes the town of Westbury. North of this lies old Westbury, the
village which was built by farming Friends. It
is a short detour, from the turnpike.
"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

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

The Mansion once Belonging to Rufus King, Jamaica.

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i i'.

The Tavern at Hollis, in which Woodhull was Captured.

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Elias Hichs


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 1771. It was the headquarters from which he started on his preaching 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
One thousand times Hicks spoke in public,
never accepting a cent for his labors in the service 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, Abolitionists, 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'
So popular did the Jericho Turnpike become
that it was not long before an extension was
built to Smithtown. Until the turnpike era,
Long Island had been backward in road development. This was partly the result of mail conditions. When the mail-carrier service had been
first introduced, there was a generally awakened

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interest in the improvement of public roads;
Franklin, as Postmaster-General, had established 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" enthusiasm slumbered. Furman speaks of "a respectable 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 Thursday morning--"they
were not, however, particular as to a halfhour." 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

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Rural Letter Boxes


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
would 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
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 somewhat 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

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34              Eastward
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."

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ANOTHER 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. Thompson 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 carrying across in his Indian canoe. This, however,
could hardly be called systematic transportation, as both molasses and passengers could
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

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York. This was by a more northern course.
It cannot be exactly followed to-day, owing to
the shiftings 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 yesterday betook himself to the foot of East Eightysixth Street, where the East River Park was
laid out later, including the point known as
Harris Hook. There the ferryboat awaited
Even in the Twentieth Century there is a spirit
of quaintness about this uptown ferry, 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 promontory which seems a clumsy excrescence on a
smooth shore. One may read "Hell Gate" in
the water beside it; to the south is Blackwell's
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."

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A Pioneer of Astoria


About the period of the map which I have in
mind, the Ravenswood region which lay near
Astoria and toward Hunter's Point was connected 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 railway 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 appears 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 Hallett, who emigrated to this place from Dorsetshire 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
It was in 1839 that the region of Hallett's

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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 Blackwell's 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 promontory, 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.

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St. George's Church-thle New Building-Flushing.

The Bowlder Marking the Spot where George Fox Preached.

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St. George's, Flushing


A trolley running from the Astoria ferry follows a similar direction. It passes through the
town of Astoria, on to Woodside, thence straight
into the center of Flushing, after skirting Flushing Bay with its merry showing of summer vacation 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 building is carefully preserved at the rear of the
church property, and is used as a Sunday-school
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
St. George's parish still preserves two manu

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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 I I A.M. All welcome. First Day
School at 10 A.M."

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The Bowne House


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 sturdy
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
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

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to hear the great speaker. "We had a very
large meeting," he wrote with pardonable satisfaction, "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
themselves, long known as the "Fox Oaks,"
under which he stood. Gabriel Furman 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
Back in the Bowne house, you will be shown
the couch on which Fox reposed when he had finished his labor. It is only one of many hoarded
relics. The rooms are filled with old pieces of
furniture, samplers, pictures, countless other reminders 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

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The Friends' Meeting-House 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.

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IutqIMl/J'dynfllfJdUQ3Og dli idp!Sa(/'duV'I- -XOf f() P'djIIdl// IV dddJ~ /flU/Sdl~3 dslOJf/J I 9 aqjjf

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Elizabeth Fry's Jest


on display here. The samplers are of interest.
One is signed "Eliza Bowne, Nine Partners
Boarding School, 18oo, Aged 12 years," and
Blest solitude, how sweet thy peaceful scenes!
Where contemplation's vot'ries 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
(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 Elizabeth 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

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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 nurseryman
of his country.
Not only did his own work, carried on under
the Linnean 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 Revolution 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

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The Linnaean Garden


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 building with a
broad lawn before it. This was once the Flushing Institute, established in 1827, and directed
by  the Reverend    Dr. William  Augustus
The "Hotine House," as it is familiarly
known, at 189 Broadway, is a representative
of early days, dating back before the Revolution, although much altered in outward appearance. Although local tradition has occasionally
labeled it "Washington's Headquarters" and
"Howe's Headquarters," it is doubtful whether
any Revolutionary history of importance attaches 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. Aspinwall, 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 lamentable fact that its records, long ago kept in the

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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 therefore 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 emigrate 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

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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.

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yisnqlvldj ul PIJ3SdWiOH S1,14f97 PIO aYJ.pIDJadUj- lsawII aag aqj

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A Sheriff's Difficulties


the Block House, which stood near the site of
the town pond. Pond and Block House have
both vanished. Here were kept the town records, 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 culminating 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

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TAP 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 rattat 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.

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Early Dutch Farms


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 today almost as they were in days before the Revolution shook our country. Their churches, 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 Seventeenth 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

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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
The Dutch homes hereabouts were mostly
built of wood. Now and then a dwelling of
brick or stone arose. The houses were constructed 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 fireplaces. They were made so wide that the entire
family-by no means small in number-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
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

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The Lefferts Homestead


under, one over the victim, were always in
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 surrounded by a broad lawn.      Its roof has a
curving sweep; at each end rises a chimney,
and the low porch extends under the old overshot 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 settler, 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 treasured 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

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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 Revolution returned to invade the old residenceand 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, and 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
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

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Church of the Early Dutch Settlers in Flatbush.

Old Well, Philipse Manor.

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I '

Erasmus Hall High School To-day, Built about the Old Erasmus Hall
Academy.    The Original School Founded in r787.

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The flatbush Church:yard


was the offense felt by these pious settlers. The
Governor listened to the complaint and issued
orders to the minister that he "should attend
more diligently to his work.'
Behind the building, which replaces the ancient 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 institutions which distinguished Long Island. It was
established in 1787, and one of its earliest

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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 farmhouse, 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 o184 Flatbush Avenue; and the Vanderbilt home at
6Io, with its Dutch oven in the cellar, now
Flatbush of now was Midwout, or Middle
Woods, in ancient days. The settlement was begun about the middle of the Seventeenth Century, probably in 1651. 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 settlement, there was a tobacco plantation in the
town, owned by ex-Governor Van Twiller,

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The Flatlands Church


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 unnoticeable in the merging of modern building,
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 church 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 something 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 meetinghouses, 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. I830, Aged 81," appears on
a stone above the lines:

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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 Nicholas and Alette Schenck, I816, 2I 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 merrygo-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
still 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

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A Hunter's Cabin


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
"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 nowadays! 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 beginning 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

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on till there was a good-sized house. It belonged
in the Bergen family till maybe twenty years
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 bumptious young pleasure-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 Reformedtobe established in his territory.

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The Old Dutch Church of Flatlands, Organized
261 Years A go.

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

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

The Battle Pass Tablet in Prospect Park, Marking the Outer Line of Defense
in 1776.

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A Grim Government


Robert Hodgson, a Quaker refugee, was brought
before Stuyvesant and his council, was not permitted 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
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 Gibbc.
Here they hid away much of their booty, which

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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 throughout 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 Easthampton. The Kings County Commissioners
set promptly about their task, and they laid out
the road which is now a part of Fulton 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 constituted the King's Highway, which was the first

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"'To Be Forever"6
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. "

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RETURNING 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 during 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 building at
the intersection of Fulton Street and Platbush
Avenue. The tablet is small and unobtrusive,

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Wallabout to Gowanus


and people who pass are thinking about a realestate deal, or an exploded tire, or the new
styles in millinery. It bears a brief inscriptionmerely 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 monument or tablet. But "from the Wallabout to the
Gowanus" tells Brooklyn's greatest story. Today the Wallabout is merely that bay at the
crook of the East River, where the Navy Yard
fronts the water; and the Gowanus, that indentation in our Upper Bay overlooked by Greenwood 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 memory. You will, at times, follow old roads, walk
in old footsteps, overlook old prospects. On a

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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 pleasure ground for the people, lies between Myrtle
and De Kalb avenues, and offers a refreshing
glimpse of grass and trees in down-town Brooklyn. 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 campaign 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

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Scythe and Pole


Island. To meet this array, Washington could
not call together twenty thousand effective 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 fortifications of the Americans, decided that his best
move would be not to attack the center and
right of the Americans, which included Governor'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 Kingsbridge.
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
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

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New York, and there Washington had defenses
built, there he placed General Greene with a
large body of troops. But much sickness prevailed that summer, and in the middle of August
Greene succumbed to an attack of bilious fever,
and Sullivan was put in his place. Meanwhile
General Putnam was arranging, by chevaux-defrise, 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 Platbush.
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 Bostonnamely, the command of the situation. About
half the American army was therefore concentrated there-some nine thousand men. Because
of the tremendous responsibility of the position,

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The View from Lookout Hill, where Maryland's Four Hundred Made their Great Defense in 1776.
(Prospect Park.)

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Fort Putnam


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 commanded the East River as well as the roads
approaching Brooklyn from the interior. Standing 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 millpond, 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 Highlanders), 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

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out; but many links in the chain have been
For four days of that eventful August, Howe
reconnoitered. The upshot was that he determined 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 reinforcements 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 crossed 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."

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Putnam's Inspection


Immediately  a sense of confidence spread
throughout the American forces and their
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 prepared 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
would have been powerless. A patrol watched
the Jamaica road, but it was captured at daybreak, and Bedford was gained by the British.
Sullivan was now bravely fighting against the
advance of von Heister and his Hessians. But

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Sullivan'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 thebraveAmerican general formed a battle line all the wayfrom 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 I25 feet is
surmounted by a bronze urn 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.

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Maryland's Four Hundred


If you will turn. into 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 discover a gray bowlder retired among the trees near
the Drive. Its tablet bears this inscription:
"Line of Defense. August 27, 1776. Battle
of Long Island. 175 feet south. Site of Valley
Grove House, 150 feet north."
This tells its own story. You are approaching 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 gardening, 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 fellows I must this
day lose!"

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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
regular line of battle. Stirling had fought magnificently but he too was assaulted in the rear; his
one effort now was to save his command from
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 Maryland 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
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

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"Don't Fire, Boys"       7


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,ooo soldiers enlisted by this city for that
war; just beyond it you come to Fern Avenue,
and at the intersection of this path with Greenbank 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 fortifications. Putnam was ready for this event.
He passed to and fro among the men who waited
behind the defenses, issuing quick orders, drawing 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
"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

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an importance in the mind of the old Indian fighter which quite justified its frequent
"A soldier of one of the Connecticut regiments
was crouching behind the breastwork and was
busily employed in loading his own and his comrade'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 deliberate aim picking off the enemy's troops. This
partnership of courage and poltroonery... at
length arrested the attention of the promenading 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
numbers, 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

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V -Q


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Maartyrs' Monument, Fort Greene Park.

Tie Place of Worship from which Chapel Hill Took its Name.

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Americans Secretly Cross River 75
Washington time to plan his remarkable
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 inexplicable. Washington himself superintended the
embarkation; Fiske says, he "collected every
sloop, yacht, fishing-smack, yawl, scow, or rowboat 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 Regime'nt, experts, 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

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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 rum
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.
Tntil the end of the Revolution, Brooklyn
remained in the hands of the Britis.i) Washington, 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.

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L ONG    before  summer-resorters  disported
temselves in parti-colored bathing suits,
before processions of gay parasols paraded along
board-walks, before husbands pined in Manhattan'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 Horseshoe of Sandy Hook Bay. Although we of today 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

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century ago-for a "convenient number" of
gentlemen to charter a boat of their own to visit
"Sandy Hook and the Sea-Bass Banks."   Today 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 Manhattan 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 distinguished 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 18o8 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 purpose, and can be visited by any one who obtains
a pass from the Commissioner of Immigration.
Governor's Island is one of our most interesting national defenses. The Indians used to call
this spot of land "Pagganck," and the Dutch
who followed them named it Nut Island. Wouter
SChapter IV.

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Two "Oyster Islands"


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
Nicoll, 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 presented the giant bronze, Bartholdi being chosen as
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

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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 service. '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

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Old Road from Middletown


the first hotel was built 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
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,
running from the Navesink Highlands back
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 practically 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

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four generations to be counted "new" in any
community of the United States speaks well
for that community's love of tradition.
This part of New Jersey throbbed in Revolutionary 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 England, 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 successful saw-mill there.
So prominent did they become that the town
Leonardo was named for them. The house,

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

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The Village Smithy Containing the A ncient A nuil, at Chapel Hill.

The Old Leonard House at Leonardo.

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A Quaint Hamlet


nucleus of all the village around,.is preserved
almost in its original form, and the fine old rafters 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 midsummer 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 surrounded by others, and you find yourself confronted 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.

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Chapel Hill, although it played no leadi.g r61e
in our 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, preserved 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

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A Duel Challenge


Hopping, another member of the family, 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.
1767.   DOLLEY HAGEMAN.                      Dr.
Jan. 2. To I mug of Cider &amp; Y Dram..............  6
To I mug of Beer........................  6
To 3 Dram...........................   2
To 2 Mugs of Beer......................  I
Apr.8. To iDram.............................   4
To Y2  Dram............................  2
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 today in the annals of the old Mount house that
one temperamental gentleman, probably somewhat 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

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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 threescoreand-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.

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The Old Chapel


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 apprised 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 18oo, 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

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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 popularity
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

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The Pine Robbers


houses, so runs the tradition, mugs of ale and
bread and meat were passed out to the redcoats 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 Revolution, 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
burrowed caves in the sand hereabouts concealed them, also the pine woods, and thence
they sallied forth to plunder and murder.
One Fenton was the arch-fiend among thema former blacksmith of Freehold. When the
vigilance committee warned him that, if he did
not return his plunder, he would be shot, he sent

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back the clothing he had taken from a tailor's
shop, but added in a note, "I have returned 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
The Refugees had a strongly fortified settlement 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 obliged to surrender.
Himself and companions were taken to New
York, and afterward back to Sandy Hook
and placed, heavily ironed, on board a guardship. On the 12th 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

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Death of Captain Huddy


him upon a gallows made of three rails. He
met his fate with composure. 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 infamous 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 suffer,
without taking vengeance for the numerous
cruelties; and thus begin, having made use of
Captain Huddy as the first object to present to
your view; and further determine to hang man
for man, while there is a refugee existing.
"Huddy's body was carried to Freehold, and
buried 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, should be executed. But the color of

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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 Reflections,
Philip Freneau 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 denyingIf 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.

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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.

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The ViYllage Blacksmith at Chapel Hill.
Photograph bit A. R?. Colemnan.

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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.

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S TAATEN 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 Narrows, from this vicinity back to Old Town. In
1661 the Waldenses came to the island, later
the Huguenots, and the settlements of Old Town
and Fresh Kills grew. Before they arrived, the
only roads were narrow paths leading through
the forest, between these two places; as the

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Staten Island Settlers


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. Islanders 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 communication. 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 historically 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 conflicts took place on its soil, Indian raids, settlements 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 northeast corner of the borough of Richmond one may
find enough reminders of colonial life, of Dutch
settlements, of Revolutionary events to last

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for hours 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 quarantines as you pass their locations. Out to the
right where the Statue of Liberty rises, on Bedloe'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 disturbance was caused by this measure; the church

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Quarantine Excitement


objected, the islanders objected, but ".the right
of eminent domain" carried the day.
Therefore the quarantine was established.
After you leave the ferry station at 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

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This reservation is full of interest for its
present as well as for its past. It is headquarters 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 particular 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

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Old Planters" Hotel


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 aristocratic Southerners used to assemble and exchange
genial southern stories in the early eighteenhundreds. Here in Tompkinsville the building
was erected by a Southerner in I820 and conducted 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 Periauger Ferry, from Stapleton, ran in opposition
to it about 18oo00-17.
Continuing on Bay Street, you will come to
the intersection of Clinton. By making a short

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detour here, turning 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 themselves were entertained at the Rose and Crown,
a famous inn. The British now set about throwing 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 1812 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

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Vanderbilt's Boyhood


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
humble 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 accomplished 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

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another thousand and had secured a fractional
interest in some 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
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 worthwhile detour, to the house once occupied by
Giuseppe Garibaldi. It is reached by turning

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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.

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

The Garibaldi House, Staten Island.

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Garibaldi in America


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 sentiment awakened to the thought of preserving it,
that it was obvious it could not stand many
years of weather-beating; therefore a substantial 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 popular 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 Europewere full of charm to a country still in the making, whose people had faced adventure and met
shifting fortunes themselves. It has been said

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of him, "He will always remain the central figure
in the story of Italian independence."
While in Staten Island he worked as a candlemaker 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 fortifications.
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

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Last Shot of the Revolution


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 opinionand 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 Fort 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 commenced. Seven Dutch cottages were erected
by diligent settlers. The building was with
stones found 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.

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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 together, had descended upon the struggling little
town, and burned it, slaying almost all the inhabitants. Those who escaped joined the soldiers at the blockhouse and made off across the
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 fortitude 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

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The Old Vreeland Homestead 109
rebuild, and the settlement vanished. into a
A little further on is South Beach, a people's
playground, where peanut, ice-cream and chewing 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

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IN the heart of Staten Island is the village of
Richmond, once a most important center
and county seat. A main road ran to it, penetrating 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 connected 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

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Emerson's " Snuggery '9        i11
burned, and replaced by the building wbich 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 comfortable, 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 terraces, and curious ancient lamps are suggestive
of the Orient in a spot adapted by nature to the
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

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Dorp with its old Moravian church. The present 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 passengers 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, crossing 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 I756 it
is said that there were only three communicant
members on the island, these being Jacobus
Vanderbilt and his wife Vettje, and Elizabeth

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The Moravian Church


Inyard, a widow. It was not until 1762. that a
number of persons applied for the establishment
of a church. 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 wealth came into the church through the
generosity of the Vanderbilt family. The mausoleum 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

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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 cemetery 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
You have passed beside Todt Hill while following 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, saying 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

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The Cortelyou Homestead at New Dorp.

The Moravian Church at New Dorp.

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The Old Richmond Court-House.

The Old Perrine Homestead, Dongan Hills.

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Witches and Whipping Post


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
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 whipping 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 invested with the Order of the Bath during this
time, on October 25, 1761. During 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 rambling building, hangs a sign
which calls up some of the spiciest memories

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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
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. Origirially 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
council; 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 assume 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

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Sign of the BlacK Horse


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, Benton 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 signboard. 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 Iwas
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 proprietor 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

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spot where they had seen some of their most
adventurous day.) 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 substantial loaf used to be baked. The building
to-day presents the appearance of a modern
suburban cottage, but it is of genuine historical
It is the remaining dwelling of that Waldensian-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

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The Fountain House


Brook, near this old house, they built a-quaint
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 established: 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, afnd 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 eighteen-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

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beyond, is historic old St. Andrew's church
which, in 190o8, 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 likewise 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 course of time. The land which she gave
still belongs to the church, and some of the land
given in bequest by Ellis Duxbury, in Tompkinsville, for the maintenance of its minister, still
assists in defraying the expenses of the parish.
A tablet on the wall of the church commemorates 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.

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Battle at the Church


It was on the night of October i5th that these
troops from Perth Amboy crossed, and by daybreak 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 building. 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 church. 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 building, shooting until every windowpane was
shattered.  Next the Americans began to
throw rocks in at the windows, to save
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

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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 mercifully permitted the surgeon to remain at his
post with the sick while all others were marched
out as prisoners.
The 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 themselves made their escape, and got across the
During the Revolution, while the British were
in possession of the island, services were suspended 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
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

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St. Andrew's Church.
Photograph by F..i. Simonson.

Cockloft Hall of "Salmagundi Papers."

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bt ~ iv
r *,
jrtb ~C
4, 'dQ~
~~ ~~t~Cz



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

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 i668.

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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.

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M   ORE 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 twentythree 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 excellent 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. Although in another State than Perth Amboy, the
two have been inseparably linked by their position, so that old inhabitants of either refer to
"the other side " as if they were one town. From

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Ferry from Amboy


a paper of 1737 this announcement 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 passenrger."
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 believable, in spite of the crowded Staten Island near
the ferry, with which 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

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the right, and let Elliott Avenue lead you into a
sandy road which cuts across a decidedly waste
place. Kelley gives directions, "Follow Broadway, 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 farmhouses, 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, inhabited but neglected, forgotten except by the
history lover.
With one exception, its features 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

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Discord on Staten Island


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 Tottenville, 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 rulership over all the king's possessions in America.
Provinces which had been under Dutch control
passed into English hands. Staten Island became 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-four hours they
should belong to the colony of New York; otherwise, 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

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as to whether it was of the merchant service
or not.
Billopp was chosen to perform the Duke'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 twentythree 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 determined 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

<PB REF="00000193.tif" SEQ="00000193" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="897" N="129"/>
The Billopp Family


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 history. The Captain himself disappeared in the
early seventeen-hundreds, before the Revolution
came on; it is believed that his vessel, The Bentley, 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

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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 remained, 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):
"..I. Lyes ye Body of Thomas Billopp Esq,
son of Thomas Farmar Esq. Decd August ye 2d
1750 In ye 39th year of his age."
And the other:
"Here lyes ye Body of Evjenea ye Wife of
Thomas Billopp. Aged 23 years... March...."
The old cellar has its own tradition. That
black, cavernous doorway, which looks like a
gulping mouth awaiting the unwary, points
the way to the dungeon beyond. A veritable

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" The Old Stone House in Willock's Lane," Used by the British
during the Revolution. Built 1734. (Perth A mboy.)

~7.i '- s
Q  2 ^^

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

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"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 A mboy.

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Mysterious Dungeon


dungeon it is, probably as mysteriously legendlike as any cellar of an American citizen ever contained. 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
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 powdered gentleman tripped to light measure at the

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Billopp balls. Colonel Billopp became famous
for his magnificent entertainments. Such officers as Howe, Cornwallis, Clinton, Burgoyne,
Knyphausen, and Andr6 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
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 corruption of the old Dutch "Achter Cull," and

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The Kills


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 struggles over the proprietorship, which brought
about hard feeling that it took considerable
time to heal.

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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 center.  Until recently it has been possible to
see the old barracks used in the Revolution, but
these have finally been torn down. The "Governor'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, having 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 Franklin occupied the house, and it was used as a headquarters 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 merrymakings. 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

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"Parher Castle "'


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 connections on the royal side, therefore it was considered necessary to place him under restraint,
and in 1777 he was kept in confinement in Morristown. 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, and had the eventful experience of being

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136            Southward
occupied by British soldiers during the Revolutionary 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.

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NEWARK of a century ago was to its section
of New Jersey much the same as any railway 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 innovation and excited much comment. The Frenchman, Brissot de Warville, is quoted as saying:
"(uilt 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

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point may be carried the patience of man, who is
determined to conquer nature)"
Urquhart 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 YorkPhiladelphia stage had been put through, by
way of Perth Amboy and Trenton, and now
that the straightening of the road was undertaken, a second stage was established, to follow
the new route. But popular travel still inclined 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:
'il 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

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An Adventurous Journey to Newarh 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 pulling a rope fastened
on the opposite side. "
But the difficulties of this primitive travel
were forgotten when the turnpike 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 18o6, and it
followed the line, with few changes, of the old
Horseneck Road which had been laid down before
the Revolution. Also in 1 8o6, 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
18 11, and others followed, until this section of
New Jersey was a network of tollgate roads,
veining out in every direction from the thriving

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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 become deaf to a roar of railroads, trolleys, and
automobiles, blind to crowded blocks of department-store show windows. Armies of human
beings, factory workers, toilers in a great industrial 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 Connecticut 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-lookedfor shores.

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Voyage of Newarh Settlers


Broad and Market streets meet at the center
of Newark to-day    as yesterday. Standing
there, you can recall the fact that the intersection of these streets was the "Four Corners" of
the original town, and was called so from the
beginning. Here the settlers gathered whenever any matter of importance called them forth.
Here the drum 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 Connecticut 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. Nowadays 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
It was Governor Carteret who offered the
inducements, and the dwellers of Milford, Connecticut, 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

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asm, and to his urging 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 should first set foot upon the new
land, and at last it was voted that the Captain'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 building 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 1715, and the one now standing dating
from 1791. 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.

<PB REF="00000211.tif" SEQ="00000211" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="891" N=""/>
The Old First Presbyterian Church in Newark.

Boxwood Hall, Elizabeth. Once the Home of Elias Boudinot.

<PB REF="00000212.tif" SEQ="00000212" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="799" N=""/>
The Schoolhouse at the 0,d Lyons Farms, where Miushinu/on Spoke to t/ie Children.

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

<PB REF="00000213.tif" SEQ="00000213" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="894" N="145"/>
The Captain's Daughter


This Aaron Burr later became a founder of
Princeton College. Dr. James Richards, another of the distinguished line of pastors, gave
up his church duties to become president of Auburn 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 buryingground 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 drums, 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 disproved. The price paid them for the town was
liberal for that day, and might have been sufficient to satisfy them, as prices went then;
it was:
"Fifty double hands of powder, oo00 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 hundred and fifty fathoms of wampum, two ankers

<PB REF="00000214.tif" SEQ="00000214" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="891" N="146"/>


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 o10O X 38 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 parchment roll, signed when the Duke of York cut
his possessions in half and gave to Lord John
Berkeley and Sir George Caiteret all the land
which is now the State of New Jersey, this
parchment roll being the agreement in formal

<PB REF="00000215.tif" SEQ="00000215" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="896" N="147"/>
Ancient Parchment Roll


shape. The Duke 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
Camsarea 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 Jerseyan 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 homestead. 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 1710. Col. John I. Plume, known
to the War of 1812, was born here. Being on the
edge of town, it was a great stopping-place for
soldiers when the Revolution came on, and the

<PB REF="00000216.tif" SEQ="00000216" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="898" N="148"/>


story is told that in 1777 some Hessians, trailing
over this part of the country to see what disturbance they could cause, came across the
hospitable farmhouse, entered, and took possession of its comforts. There was provender in the
barn and milk in the dairy. The troopers
flung their possessions about and made themselves 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
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 Gouverneur Street and Mt.

<PB REF="00000217.tif" SEQ="00000217" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="896" N="149"/>
Story of Mistress Plume


Pleasant Avenue stands Cockloft Hall, conveniently 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, surrounded by a
large lawn, and is well kept. Many years ago
Washington Irving visited it, and wrote Salmagundi 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
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,

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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 retreat, 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 today. The latter is some distance further, much

<PB REF="00000219.tif" SEQ="00000219" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="893" N="151"/>
Cochloft Hall


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 Chancellor Street stands one of the old Lyons Farms
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 tradition, dedicated to the most advanced of presentday 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

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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 five 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 afford 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 Century 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.

<PB REF="00000221.tif" SEQ="00000221" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="885" N="153"/>
School Visited by Washington 153
It touched Revolutionary history many a 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
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
1913, 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
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 182o.  There
are almost a dozen spellings of the Dutch-born
name. Its chief r6le in history was played when
"Light-Horse Harry Lee" successfully attacked
the British garrison stationed there in August,
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,

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154             Westward
business sprang up around 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 themselves,

<PB REF="00000223.tif" SEQ="00000223" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="891" N="155"/>

N the days when powdered hair towered high
upon fair heads, when waists were wasplike 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 grimly-won 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

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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 Brunswick, 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
At No. I105 East Jersey Street you will see a
doctor's sign of the Twentieth Century 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

<PB REF="00000225.tif" SEQ="00000225" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="895" N="157"/>
A Pill or a Scolding


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 Independence, and is said to have been the man who
introduced vaccination into the town of Elizabeth, 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 hereabouts, the doctor's house was plundered. It
is recorded that he said indignantly: "They
emptied my feather beds in the street, broke in
windows, smashed my mirrors, and left our pantry 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. Winfield 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

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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 second 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 Washington himself once expressed great admiration for
the house decorations when visiting there.
Samuel Woodruff came first, then the residence

<PB REF="00000227.tif" SEQ="00000227" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="732" N=""/>
The Old Fort, Elizabeth, Built in 1734.

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

<PB REF="00000228.tif" SEQ="00000228" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="851" N=""/>

The First Presbyterian Church, Elizabeth, Built in 1784.  The
Origin iL Building was Burnt by the British.

House in Elizabeth, where General Winfield Scott Lived.

<PB REF="00000229.tif" SEQ="00000229" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="893" N="159"/>
Redcoats at Boxwood Hall


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-tobe-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 Dayton 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.

<PB REF="00000230.tif" SEQ="00000230" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="894" N="160"/>


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; andi eneral 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 Presbyterian 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

<PB REF="00000231.tif" SEQ="00000231" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="893" N="161"/>
" Ripening for Heaven"


the home of Governor Jonathan Belcher, 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 political position. But the fact that this
saintly and esteemed gentleman dwelt here seems
to hold a minor place in popular history, compared with the fact that perhaps the most
brilliant wedding of the Revolution took place
within these walls.
It meant bravery to give a conspicuous 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
I778-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 married to young Boudinot, so the wedding was a
great event in every way, and the most distinguished 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 Lafayette were guests. The lights poured forth into
the quiet street, music and voices rang, the

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gayety reached an unprecedented height. Any
nervousness which may    have been felt at
first, passed as the hours went by without
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 Holland scenery in blue on white rival the Biblical
Dutch tiles of Boxwood Hall across the street.
Not far from this haughty old residence district is a humble little byway known as" Thompson'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

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The Hetfield House


examination reveals stout walls, ready t' 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 Lubberson 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 Presbyterians 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 house of history. It
stands well back from the street and high above
the sidewalk, a long, broad walk stretching up

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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 descendant 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 property 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 governor 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, statesman, and patriot, prided himself on being a simple
Jersey farmer, but the three young ladies caused
the house to be a headquarters for continuous

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"Strawberry Tea "


Sarah, the eldest, was a renowned beauty, and
so wonderful 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 forbidden 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 "strawberry tea." It appeared to be a fruitydrink, 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 fooling 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 dispatches. Only
Susannah was ready to meet the emergency.
She led them through the rooms while they
searched every corner for the papers; at last they
paused before a small secretary where, in fact,
the papers were.

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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 r6le
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 President of the United States. Often the dwelling
sheltered troops. When the British were foraging in the vicinity, the Livingstons had to desert
the house. After the war was over Mrs. Washington 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 1914 the inhabitants of Elizabeth celebrated
the town's two-hundred-and-fiftieth birthday.
Not many years before this a record showed

<PB REF="00000237.tif" SEQ="00000237" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="896" N="167"/>
Trade in Peltries


that there were over forty houses there, built
prior to the Revolution, and the number had
not greatly diminished at the time of the
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 communication; 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 Elizabethtown was not created until 1664; people came
thither from Long Island, others from Connecticut, 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 Governor 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

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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 brilliancy of social life which was at its height during
the war period, although there were Revolutionary 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
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

<PB REF="00000239.tif" SEQ="00000239" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="891" N="169"/>
Marsh's Saw-mill


Brunswick, after their defeat at Trenton and
Princeton in 1777.
Rahway's first saw-mill was built on the south
side of the river in 1683, just above the railroad
bridge of modern years. The following document
records its establishment:
"A meeting of ye Inhabitants of Elizabethtown, 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 himself 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, became a notorious Tory and refugee, and his
name is connected with the annals of the town.
An account in the New Jersey Journal of 1782
tells of his adventure 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

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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 Elizabethtown, 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 venison, turkeys, geese, heath-hens, cranes, swans,
ducks, pigeons and the like. 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 linendraper for a supply, everyone making their own
linen and a great part of their woolen cloth for
their ordinary wearing. Here one may... travel

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Evolution of Prigmore's Swamp 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
Returning to the main road running south
from Elizabethtown and Rahway, the old Middlesex a~nd 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 I173o a group of Dutch families from
Albany, New York, arrived here, built themselves 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,

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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 Nuise 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 Deursen'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, churches,
and business had to be closed, many had to surrender their homes, barns in the surrounding
country 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
Several American officers with high-spirited
patriots under them caused the British considerable disturbance. 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

<PB REF="00000243.tif" SEQ="00000243" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="895" N="173"/>
Captain Hyler's Expeditions


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, adventurous spirit, commanded several large whaleboats, and a gunboat, 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 outposts 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

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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 imagination 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 century
ago the ancient stagecoach plied the old New
Jersey road to Westfield, and to Plainfield, and
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

<PB REF="00000245.tif" SEQ="00000245" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="847" N=""/>
The lietfield House, the Oldest House in Elizabeth, Built about 1682....

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

<PB REF="00000246.tif" SEQ="00000246" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="847" N=""/>
Mounted Cannon on Washington's Camp Ground above Bound Brook.

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

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Route of the Old Coach


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
18oo were one from Quibbleton (now New
Market) to Scotch Plains, and a road to Rahway, 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, suggesting the route of the old coach which alternately 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 Elizabeth about the year 1,720. 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-disturbers
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

<PB REF="00000248.tif" SEQ="00000248" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="893" N="176"/>

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
Gilman, on the main street opposite the road
to Rahway. It was known as "The Stage
House " and was famed throughout the surrounding 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 produced, when a half-pint of rum is poured in
and some nutmeg grated upon it."
Mr. Gilman, in his blue coat with brass buttons, 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 3s. 6d. So familiar and well-loved was
his figure that upon his passing away a bard sang,
in paraphrase of the lines on "Old Grimes,"
Old Gilman is dead, that good 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

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Qualiers Afoot and Ahorsebacll 177
Gilman. 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
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 I I A.M.,
Fourth Day Evening 7: 45. All are welcome. "
At the summons 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, enthroned 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 established a meeting at Plainfield, and in 1787 it was
agreed that a house of worship should be built.

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All of this portion of New Jersey is strongly
identified with the history of the Quaker Church
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 conservative home-building 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 Woodbridge, 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 cros's-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 hundred pounds was subscribed. The

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The Quaher Cemetery


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 headstones 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 headquarters is the center of the original town-the
corner of Front and Somerset streets. Here, at
the beginning of the last century, a population 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 between New York and Philadelphia, and we can
picture the Plainfielders of that day gathering in the store of Thomas Nesbit, later of
John Fitz Randolph, and exchanging gossip
and comment with feet aloft, while the storekeeper bartered his "dry goods, groceries, boots

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and shoes" for "skines, furs, tallow, wax and
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 included not only a grist-mill, but a saw-mill, a
cider-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.

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An ]Early Circus


That Plainfield was a stirring center for ill 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 entertainment, 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 &amp;c., and are drawn by 112
splendid gray horses-and 6o men (including
14 musicians) are required to complete its
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.
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

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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. Washington 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 magnificent view and many woodsy rambles near by.
Historically, it is one of the most important
points hereabouts, and the trip lies over attractive 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 region 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

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Washington near Plainfield


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.
Manya gloomyhour 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 Washington 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 I3th Howe led his
troops from this camp toward Somerville, mean

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ing to cross the Delaware and proceed to Philadelphia. 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 monument was
placed upon this rock, and in 1912 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 Cornwallis," 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

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The La Tourette House


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 American 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 buildings. 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, smothering 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 protect the firm walls, and within are preserved

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many pieces of old furniture and other relics
of the seventeen-hundreds. This is the house
in which Baron Steuben had his winter quarters 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 delightfully, and the most distinguished Americans, 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
At the far end of Bound Brook lies the camp
ground of Washington. It is this town's proudest historic feature; it has been marked by a
flag and mounted cannon, and here the townspeople assemble on every safe-and-sane Fourth
of July for their patriotic orations combined
with lemonade and crackerjack. Even beneath

<PB REF="00000259.tif" SEQ="00000259" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="844" N=""/>
The Monument and Tablet on Washington's Rock, Plainfield.
Photograph by Collier.

The Quaker Church in Plainfield, Built in 1788.

<PB REF="00000260.tif" SEQ="00000260" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="463" N=""/>
The Washington Headquarters, Morristown.

*.'~ `t t t
~, I t

CTP;~'lj~~ i*:
i~b               ~i
r *~~*-~CCI

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

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Toward the Camp Ground


the thoughts of lemonade there is doubtless plenty
of good sound American patriotism throbbing.
By following Main Street to Mountain Avenue, 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 stiff climb from the foot.
On the way out Mountain Avenue one passes
the public library; just beyond it is a cemetery
old enough to be worth a glance from the landmark lover. Even on stones not more than
a half-century old there are some quaint inscriptions, 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.

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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 mountain 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 Plainfield, Washington surveyed the scene below and
summed up the situation. Chimney Rock is
another point from which a remarkable outlook can be had to-day as in the days of the

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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 Hillleads 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 travelers with way-stations at Chatham and Bottle Hill.
You will recognize Springfield by its churchtower clock, which rises slim and white in the
%             189

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midst of the town. Follow that tower to its
base, and you come to a little old white church,
and near it the weather-beaten stones of an oldtime burying-ground. In that churchyard is a
modern monument commemorating the great
event in Springfield's history.
4"The first British advance," states the inscription, '"was stayed at the bridge east of
the village June 7, 1780. The Battle of Springfield 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 MajorGeneral Greene. The following day, early in
the morning, two divisions under Knyphausen
arrived at Springfield from  Elizabethtown.
They amounted to about six thousand infantry,
cavalry, and artillery.

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Battle of Springfield


The right column 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 possible. His troops were drawn up, and had
begun a heavy cannonade, but, although Greene
was ready to fight, Knyphausen, for some reason, 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, until it was
only a heap of ashes, and finally retreating to
Elizabethtown Point.
The conflict would be counted of less importance 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 Elizabethtown.
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,

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this time of Claverhouse, seeking a home in
Ireland. Caldwell's parents came to this country 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 followers 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 used
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
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

<PB REF="00000267.tif" SEQ="00000267" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="888" N="193"/>
Parson Calclwell's Story '


preaching with a pair of pistols on the desk
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 Springfield that all his fire had been roused to the utmost 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
S.. 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
At the "farms," where his wife, with a child in her arms,
Sat alone in the house. How it happened none knew

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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
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, foully slain, in your viewAnd what could you, what should you, what would you
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
At their feet! Then above all the shouting and shots
Rang his voice: "Put Watts into 'em! Boys, give 'em
And they did. That is all. Grasses spring, flowers
Pretty much as they did ninety-three years ago.
You may dig anywhere and you'll turn up a ballBut not always a hero like this-and that's all.
Following in the direction of the old Morris
Turnpike, 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

<PB REF="00000269.tif" SEQ="00000269" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="897" N="195"/>
Bottle Hill


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 thriving that it led to the opening of new roads.
Farther on, where the pretty town of Madison
stands on an elevation, one would never suspect that beneath its name such an appellation
as "Bottle Hill" 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 signboard 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

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Boisaubin, who had been an officer in the bodyguard of Louis 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 Boisaubin reached into his generous pocket with the
observation, "I am sorry for that man five
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 recollections 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 confronted by the most famous of all its historic
buildings. This is the Washington headquarters,
a treasure-house containing relics of such value
that it ranks with the small group of such buildings which are of national, rather than local,
importance. It is somewhat amusing to observe

<PB REF="00000271.tif" SEQ="00000271" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="892" N="197"/>
Troops in Log Huts


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," brightening, "we've got Washington's inauguration suit
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
The main body of the army went into quarters here for thewinter of 1779-80, 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 unchanged; the house and the surrounding
large grounds are the same that they were when
Martha Washington looked forth from the windows 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,

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the table used by Hamilton, the old kitchen oven
and spinning-wheel, and a host of old pieces
of furniture brought from interesting sources.
There are sidelights on early American housekeeping thrown by some of these relics, one
being the flour barrel scooped out of a tree-trunk.
Mrs. Thompson was that keen Irish housekeeper 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
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 Oliphant Lane which lies at your right just before
you cross the railroad. Here, the first house
on your right, stands a modest little residence

<PB REF="00000273.tif" SEQ="00000273" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="862" N=""/>
The Springfield Church, Made Famous by the
" Fighting Parson."

The Old Arnold Tavern where " Arnold's Light-Horse Troop" Gathered, Morristown.

<PB REF="00000274.tif" SEQ="00000274" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="749" N=""/>
0. P'vs

The Old Dutch Church of Passaic.

The Van Wagoner Homestead, Passaic.

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Hamilton and '"Miss Betty"99
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
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 recognized 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.

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Still 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 horseback 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 pastor'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

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Captain Dicllersons. Tavern      201
be recruited, that five hundred pounds of powder 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 headquarters 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 Presbyterian 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 Morristown 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

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College, now Columbia 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 adventures than he had seen in the
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 hundred acres in Morristown and devote the remaining 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' Hospital.  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,

<PB REF="00000279.tif" SEQ="00000279" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="895" N="203"/>
Fort Nonsense


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 during 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 nonsensical old fort is at the summit besides. Here
embankments, ditches, and blockhouses were
made by busy soldiers; this was a characteristically 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 associations 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
It was down the Jockey Hollow Road that
trouble during the mutiny of the Pennsylvania

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troops occurred, which Lossing calls "the only
serious and decided mutiny in the American
army during the Revolution." New Year's
Day of 1781 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. From this building were brought
several of the old pieces of furniture now displayed 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
Returning, she was confronted by a group
of noisy soldiers who ordered her to dismount.
But instead of losing her nerve and giving up

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Tempe Wickh.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 bedehamber, where he
remained a captive for several days until all
danger of his being stolen was past, and the
rioters disappeared from the neighborhood.

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"M   RS. S., with her mother, aunt, two brothers
L  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 o10:45 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 nothing to eat. Mrs. S.'s sister, about twelve, and
her two brothers, who were growing children,
suffered until the passengers broke open a barrel of flour and made paste pudding and flour
cakes. They landed finally at the dock at
Acquackanonk Landing at    I 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

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Passengers and Flour Barrels


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 until 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 description of a voyage to the town of Passaic,
then known as Acquackanonk Landing. Being at the head of tidewater on the Passaic
River, it soon grew to be an important headquarters 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 Acquackanonk 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

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WV estward

down the Passaic, or a stagecoach. Later on,
a turnpike connected Acquackanonk with Paterson and the Great Falls, and from there another,
the Hamburg and Paterson Turnpike, ran northwest 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 turnpike, 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 arrived 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

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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 Revolution, 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 Wagening, and thus the new name developed in the
same line.
The original Gerritsen brought a certificate
from the "burgomasters, schepens and counsellors 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

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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 prominent in the Revolution, remaining neutral and
entertaining distinguished members of both
sides. One Mrs. Gerritsen was far from neutral; 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 headstones 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

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Acquaclanonh Landing


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 destroyed, 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 leading to the Landing often displayed a veritable
procession of wagons, coming from every direction, bringing in products to the large storehouses 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 adventurous tale of the Ludlow brothers, Cornelius V. C.
and John, who took advantage of the excellent

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shipping situation to furnish the British with
cannon which they obtained at Ringwood above
Pompton, during the War of 1812.
Continuing on to Paterson, we may trace one
of the most remarkable stories in the records of
industrial 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 visualized might have eclipsed his other works,
had it matured under his hands. The country
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 Falls 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. Suddenly the road swings about a sweeping curve,
and before you gapes a gorge, sheer and wicked
as a bit of Rocky Mountain 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

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Hamilton's Vision


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. Furthermore, in time she would compete with foreign
countries, would become an exporter on a vast
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 included 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

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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
launched in 1791, the Legislature of New Jersey
passing an act incorporating it; and its name was
announced as "The Society for Establishing
Useful Manufactures."  It created such enthusiasm, 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 bubble, 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 spendthrift 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

<PB REF="00000291.tif" SEQ="00000291" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="670" N=""/>
The Passaic River, near the Site of the Old Acquackanonck Bridge.

1  1I
Iff**; **  i"n'H tflH -i
Ssfe hslu~

The Monument to Alexander Hamilton at Weehawken.

<PB REF="00000292.tif" SEQ="00000292" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="873" N=""/>
The Old House at Huyier's Landing, Built before the Revolution.

The Cornwallis Headquarters at Alpine.

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End of the S. U. M.5


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 jurisdiction and rights over the watershed. The
corporation survives to-day in the water company 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 hundred 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 rainbows which formed above the cataract, of the
glen called the Valley of the Rocks, where
Washington and Lafayette both wandered in
later days.

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Even before the Revolution, tourists were
making excursions to the Great Falls so frequently, as their fame grew, that it appeared
worth while to Abraham Godwin to establish
a public house in the neighborhood. An announcement 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
Powles Hook."
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 186o. 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 actually 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 intersects; 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

<PB REF="00000295.tif" SEQ="00000295" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="894" N="217"/>
Washington's Horses Shod


the Doremus house, which is the oldest dwelling
in the city.
On Main Street stands the First Presbyterian Church, more than a century old. Among
its early documents is preserved a paper headed:
"We the subscribers, members of the First
Presbyterian Congregation in Paterson, considering 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

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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
If the motorist of the nineteen-hundreds returns to New York from Paterson and Passaic 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 dozefts of
different directions, lie like serpents stretched
in lean lines below, and countless 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 carried 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 matters outside the scope of his own department.

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Duel of Hamilton and Burr


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 18oi
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 abhorrence of the practice of dueling, but the challenge was so made that he felt it impossible in
honor, to refuse; and on the morning of July I Ith,
Hamilton and Burr met just at the foot of this
cliff, below where the monument 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 until 1854, and
was much beloved and honored.
The bowlder against which Hamilton fell in the
duel was preserved.

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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
When the Palisades Interstate Park Commission 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

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Closter Landing2


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 full
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 timber yielded by the virgin forest. Its heavy
walls have withstood time and weather. It is
preserved as the Cornwallis Headquarters.
On November 19, 1776, Cornwallis 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

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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 found this dwelling immediately at hand.
Here he ate, drank, and gave commands, and
here the tradition of the British stay has ever
since clung-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 Cornwallis' 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 19go, 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

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Huyler's Landing2


above this point. There the first anchor that
ever was lowered into the Indians' Ma-hi-canittuc River cut the blue water, and the original
Half-Moon lay at rest. In the morning, twentyeight 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 landing below Alpine was known in early times as
Lower Closter. It is now called Huyler's Landing, 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-Revolutionary period, but not cared for as the other two
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.

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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 approaching 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 continuation 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 communication between the sister forts, Washington
and Lee, and while Mollie Sneden was operating

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Patriotism and Flapjache


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 surrounding 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
In the center of the town is Monument Square,
with its Revolutionary monument which was
erected in 1908 by the State of New Jersey
under the auspices of the Fort Lee Revolutionary Monument Association. It is the work of
the sculptor Carl E. Tefft. Two bronze figures
of Continental soldiers seem to be scaling the

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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'
purpose is to achieve that crest.
SArthur 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. Somewhat 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,

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Pedoubts of the Palisades


out toward the edge of the height, you will find
the old Bluff Point, the site of the works enclosed by the abatis. This site is out toward the
river from the end of Main Street. Some distance further up along the edge is the site of the
redoubt which commanded the sunken obstructions between Fort Washington and Fort Lee.
This was the situation in '76. The Palisades'
bluff jutting out here at Fort Lee had been fortified 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
186th streets of the present. Congress had insisted 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

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Washington. It was then a fairly simple matter
for the British to proceed. Magaw found himself 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 summons 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 I5th, 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, anticipating a happy outcome. The message disturbed 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

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The Monument at Fort Lee, to Soldiers of the


The "Half-Moon" Anchored at Historic " Closter Landing."

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The Old Dutch Church of Hackensack, whose Records Date back to i686.
9                           ^

Mansion House at Hackensack, where Washington Stayed during his Retreat.

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Abandonment of Fort Lee


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 countenanced 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, however.  Lossing says: "Washington, standing
upon Fort Lee with his general officers, and the
author of Common Sense, saw some of the slaughter near the doomed fortress, and with streaming
eyes he beheld the meteor flag of England flashing above its ramparts in the bright November
The abandonment of Fort Lee was now a foregone 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

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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
HQwe 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 ammunition, 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 morning of the 2oth of November, when an officer
arrived with information that the enemy with
two hundred boats had landed seven or eight
miles above. Major-General Greene, who commanded 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 Washington 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."

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A Tragic Retreat


The melancholy retreat over the six miles
back to Hackensack left only a deserted fort
for Cornwallis when he arrived from Closter
Landing. The conquest was easy for the English 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
marched. 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 fountain, 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 residence 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

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the site of the Mansion House occupied as headquarters by General George Washington during
the retreat from Fort Lee in 1776."
It is a spacious, old-fashioned structure, coming 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 164o,
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 surrounds 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."

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Enoch Poor


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 before the church, and opposite the Bergen County
Court House, is dedicated to the memory of
Brigadier-General Enoch Poor, by the New
Jersey Sons of the American Revolution. Poor
was born in Andover, Massachusetts, but much
of his life was associated with Hackensack, and
he died near this town in I780. 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
unselfishness 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 monument; a quaint record reports that the drums
were muffled in black cr6pe and that the officers
wore cr6pe around 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

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234             Westward
and search out the landing place of the old Bull's
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 plundering loyalists who lived round about, safeguarding 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.

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S NEDEN'S LANDING, or Paramus Landing
as it was previously called, is in Rockland
County, New York. It may be reached in the
Twentieth Century by a ferryboat which is the
lineal descendant of the dugout in which Jeremiah 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 dugout 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

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made to induce the Legislature to change it. In
I830, 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 gentleman arose and made a speech in a serious vein
to the following effect. He said he was no worshipper of Dobbs; he disliked that his home
should be identified with such a low place as
a ferry; double names especially were uncouth
and undesirable; 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, therefore, moved that instead of calling the place
Paulding-on-Hudson, the Van of Van Wart
be stricken off and the place be called 'Warton-Hudson.' The speech gave such a ridiculous
turn to the whole affair that the meeting broke
up and nothing further was attempted at that
Other efforts have been made to drive away
the ghost of old Dobbs, but they have been unavailing. It appears that he is there to stay.
Prom the days when he was one of the first
settlers, dwelling in a shanty on Willow Point,

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Dobbs and Molly Sneden


he must have traveled far toward prosperity,
for he and his ferry were of great importance.
The boat in which he carried his first passengers was a canoe, dug out of a tree-trunk. 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 Horseman to his neighbor, Ichabod Crane. Nevertheless, the methods of this modem ferry are
somewhat primitive. To summon 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 Tarrytown 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

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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 adventure 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 Washington crossed this ferry to reach General Washington who was then at Cambridge.
Near the Sneden house stands another dwelling 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,

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"The Big House


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 beyond 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, Rockland County, New York, during the Revolutionary 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 around 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

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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 regiment of light horse to watch the British movements, and to intercept scouts and foragers, he
made his headquarters at Tappan.
As a result, the place became the scene of
a serious event. His troops were camping in
barns more than two miles below the village and
were unarmed. 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 surround 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

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The Home of Molly Sneden, the Ferry Mistress, at Sneden's Landing.

"The Big House," at Palisades, N. Y., where Washington Sat at Table.       The
Table is now to be Seen there.

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The  7'6 Stone House, '" where Andr2 was Impri'somed ait Tappan.



-1 T--T

The Present Ferryboat, a Lineal Descendant of Jeremiah 1)obbs's Dugout.

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"The No-Flint General"


sixty-seven of the one hundred and four men
were wounded or killed. Baylor was taken
prisoner, having been first wounded.
Grey won for himself the reputation of hardness 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 Americans, 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.

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It was on September 28, 178o, 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
journey Tallmadge acquired a warm interest in
the brave and charming young officer. Riding
horseback side by side, they fell into a conversation 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 Andre's.
At length, the question being repeated, Tallmadge referred to the fate of his friend. "But
surely you do not consider his case and mine
alike!" Andr6 responded with surprise. Tallmadge was forced to answer:     "They are
precisely similar, and similar will be your
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 Headquarters. The rear of the house is more indicative of its age than the front, which has been

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Attempts to Save Andr6


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 considered. 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, presumably, gone
ashore under a flag of truce, and that when taken
he certainly was travelling under 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 purpose, took his life in his hands as completely as

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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 under 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 argument 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 Knyphausen from the one army and Rochambeau
from the other; but as no question had arisen
which the military commission was not thoroughly competent to decide, Washington very
properly refused to permit such an unusual
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 Washington, with characteristic want of tact, hinting at
retaliation upon the persons of sundry South
Carolinian prisoners, was received with silent
"There was a general feeling in the American

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Andre's Petition to be Shot


army that if Arnold himself could be surrendered
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 protection. Nevertheless, in a roundabout way
the suggestion was made. On Saturday, Captain 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

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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 offered therein. Lossing, in describing 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

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Execution of Andre


up the slope beyond, where you follow the road.
Turning to the left on a branch that leads toward
a knoll, you will reacfi the spot where the execution 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 surrender 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 united 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 bitterness 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 execution was announced to him in the morning, he
received it without emotion, and, while all pre

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sent were affected with silent gloom, he retained
a firm countenance.... Observing his servant 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 between two of our subaltern officers, arm-in-arm.... It was his earnest desire to be shot, as
being the mode of death most comformable 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 involuntarily
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 quiet heartLet but this prayer be heard
Ere I depart.

<PB REF="00000333.tif" SEQ="00000333" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="883" N="251"/>
Poem   by N. P. Willis            251
I can give up my mother's lookMy sister's kiss;
I can think of love-yet brook
A death like this!
I can give up the young fame
I burn'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.

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THERE is a drowsy little old churchyard overshadowed by thick branches, hummed 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 i8o6,
straightened out its worst windings, smoothed it,
and established a tollgate. 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 runs 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

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Peter Post              253
the famous "Greystone," country house of
Samuel J. Tilden, who was Governor, and candidate 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 eventually 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 Hessians 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

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these same Americans were hidden in the rear
and merely awaiting their chance. The Hessians 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 survivor 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 Hasbrouck 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
within-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 having it that in times of large entertainments this

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<PB REF="00000339.tif" SEQ="00000339" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="895" N="255"/>
Conference at Dobbs Ferry


long and groaning board would be stretched
diagonally across the room.
In May of 1783, General Washington, with
Clinton and their suites, 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
A monument standing near the house records
the fact that "here, in 1781, the French allies
under Rochambeau joined the American army.
Here, in 1781, 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 guns, the first salute by Great Britain
to the United States of America."
Southwest of the house is the horseshoeshaped embankment where the remains of the
military fort were to be seen for many years.
The ground has now been leveled over. Dobbs
Ferry was within the "Neutral Ground" of the
Revolution, and, like every other place within
these limits, suffered from marauders and raiders

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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 reaching 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 ground. The Indians knew Dobbs
Perry 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 "Sunnyside
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

<PB REF="00000341.tif" SEQ="00000341" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="896" N="257"/>
Wolfert's Roost


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 fully given in Wolfert's
Roost, wherein he explains the origin of its curious name; how Wolfert "retired to this fastness
in the wilderness, with the bitter determination
to bury himself from the world, and live here for
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' (pleasure 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 grounds 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 mansion, 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

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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
found 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-pounders
and navigated with sails and oars, cruised about
like hawks," the little chap was earnestly engaged 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 until 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

<PB REF="00000343.tif" SEQ="00000343" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="874" N="259"/>
"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
te rror of the good old women of the Manhattoes.
They gathered their children together, and took
refuge in the cellars; aft 'er having~lu~ng a shoe on
the iron point of every bedpost, lest it should
attract the lightnin '. 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 populace down to the Battery, to behold the 'wishedfor sight. Many were the groups collected

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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 weatherbeaten fellows, who had been seamen or fishermen 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 reconnoitred the ship through an ancient telescope,
hummed a Dutch tune 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 thunder-cloud. The by-standers
looked at Hans Van Pelt, to see what he would say

<PB REF="00000345.tif" SEQ="00000345" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="892" N="261"/>
Hans Van Pelt


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 absolutely 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 twinklring, 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 governor 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

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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 Tappan Zee, or the wide waste of Haverstraw Bay.
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
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, however, 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 subjugation 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 appearance was supposed to be ominous of the
approaching squall in public affairs, and the
downfall of Dutch domination.

<PB REF="00000347.tif" SEQ="00000347" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="893" N="263"/>
Jacob Van Tassel


"Since that time we have no authentic accounts 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 mountainous shores."
Jacob Van Tassel was owner of Wolfert's Roost
at the outbreak of the Revolution, and his republican sympathies were well known He made
the Roost a rendezvous for American landscouts, and also water-guards who lurked in
coves along the shore in their canoe-shaped boats
called whaleboats, to obtain information concerning 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 frigate

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commanded that the prize be left behind, and,
as Irving says, "the heroine of the Roost escaped
with a mere rumpling of the feathers." Van
Tassel's house was rebuilt upon the same site,
and that second dwelling is the present house
at Sunnyside.
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 191o. 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 grounds,
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";

<PB REF="00000349.tif" SEQ="00000349" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="892" N="265"/>
Name of Tarrytown


Philip Hone called it "Paulding'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 thousand dollars in the conservatories and greenhouses which are still in use. Jay Gould was a
later owner, and his daughter inherited Lyndehurst.
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 corrupted 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 Tarrytown 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

<PB REF="00000350.tif" SEQ="00000350" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="891" N="266"/>


Van Wart, John Paulding, and David Williams.
Andr6 had just consummated his plot with
Arnold and was attempting to reach New
According to Fiske, Sir Henry Clinton had
warned the young 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 descriptions of the fortresses and information concerning 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 Smith 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 overnight, though delay was dangerous; next morning Smith became so very nervous, when the
journey was resumed, that Andr6 let him
go back, and continued toward White Plains
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

<PB REF="00000351.tif" SEQ="00000351" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="660" N=""/>

Sr a

The Signal for the Ferryman at Dobbs Ferry.

~, *

The Livingston Mansion, Dobbs Ferry.

<PB REF="00000352.tif" SEQ="00000352" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="849" N=""/>
The Old Mill at Philipse Manor (now Demolished).

The Bridge at Sleepy Hollow.

<PB REF="00000353.tif" SEQ="00000353" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="891" N="267"/>
Papers in Andr6"s Stochings


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, calling "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 documents by an
express-rider to Washington, but, being apparently 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

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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 entertaining 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, until 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
funeral 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

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Ichabod Crane


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 motoristhe 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

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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 whitewashed church." Ichabod, you will remember,
heard the black steed panting and blowing close
behind him; he gave old Gunpowder 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 unfortunate
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 1912 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 connection, as Irving observes, "with one foot

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The Old Mill at Sleepy Hll1ow 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 country 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 antediluvian 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 lumber, 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.

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272            Northward
The whole place slumbers; the only sign of
energy is at one point, just below the bridge,
where a monument cutter diligently plies his

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HE old Sawmill River Road still pursues
much the same course up into Westchester
County, 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 localities in the whole county, not forgetting Elmsford, where the British guide hid in the currant
bushes, and the Four Corners where Betty
Flanagan mixed that historic beverage, her
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
s       2       273

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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 distinction, 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 until well into the Nineteenth Century
that mere "Yonkers" was accepted.

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The Nepperan


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, permitting him to be known to posterity as the
patroon of Yonkers. His saw-mill was the pioneer of many mills, all utilizing the sturdy little
Nepperan; many dams came, and the village
eventually grew to be a milling city, manufacturing 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 Frederick 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

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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 England 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 'if 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 1751.
He was the last of the manor-lords. He was a
British sympathizer during the Revolutionary
War, and his estate was confiscated in 1779 according 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 amount of three
hundred 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

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Luxury.) of the Philipse Manor-House 277
building which was used as a trading post and
mills. The second Philipse added to it in 1745,
and the structure of to-day was the result. 'Jenkins 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 person of distinction who visited the province was
made welcome and entertained by the manorlord. 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 always 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

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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 resulted. 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

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Old Headstones in Churchyard, and a Corner of the Sleepy Hollow Church.

The Old Dutch Church, Elmsford, Sister to the Sleepy Hollow Church.

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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.

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St. John's Church, Yonhers


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 Episcopal 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 architecture is Gothic. A portion of the old wall is
included in the south side of the modern building and 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 grandfather, the first Frederick Philipse, was a member of the Reformed Dutch Church; hence, only
by this accident of the English mother's affiliations, did the church of St. John come into
existence. For a while it did not sustain its own
clergyman, but depended upon monthly visits

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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
George Panton succeeded to Babcock's labors;
but the Revolution caused his work to be most
discouraging as well as involving him in considerable danger. The building was burned in
1791, but the next year saw it rebuilt, and this
second edifice remained until 1870..Cne of Yonkers' most interesting modem
buildings is Hollywood Inn, also at Getty Square
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 workingmen's club in the United States, and it has been

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Literature in Yonkers


studied and copied by other similar institiitions
all over the country.
Jenkins suggests a theory that something in
the atmosphere of Yonkers creates humor, calling 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 Perkins," 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.
(Zrom 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 headquarters) 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 Baptiste Donatien de Vimeur, made a brief home
during the stressful times in which he aided our
country. It was in 1780 that he came to America
with a strong force, assisted in the capture of

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Cornwallis at Yorktown, and remained several
months in America, returning home to be raised
to the rank of field-marshal by Louis XVI.
Still farther up the road we come to the picturesque old town of Elmsford, formerly known
by the names of Greenburgh and Hall's Corners.
On one of the old maps the spot appears tb 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 country 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

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Capture of Cornelius Van Tassel 283
had already been making much distturbance
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 preservation and is an excellent example of the architecture 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 El~msford you will find
a small bridge where the river intersects the
main street-the Sawmill River. This modern
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

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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 Rochambeau 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
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 intentions 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 walnut. Roof, windows, and doors and weatherbeaten walls are delightfully ancient, but a
thorough system of electric lighting throughout
the house leads one to reflect upon what Washington 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 particularly fond of its waters, and had never ridden

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Tradition of the Currant liusho.S 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 currant 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-hunAdreds cost an effort. The Rev. Thomas Smith
traveled all the way from Sleepy Hollow to hold
regular services here, and the farmers flocked
from long distances to pray. Thus this parish

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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 crumbling stones. Here are seen such familiar names
as- "Van Tassel," "Romer," and "Van Wart."
Among the modern stones is a monument erected
to the memory of Isaac Van Wart by the County
of Westchester. The inscription reminds you
that in September, 1780, "Isaac Van Wart, accompanied by John Paulding and David Williams, all farmers in the county, intercepted
Major Andr6 on his return from the American
lines in the character of a spy, and, notwithstanding the large bribes offered them for his
release, nobly disdained to sacrifice their country
for gold, secured and carried him to the commander of the district whereby the dangerous
and traitorous conspiracy of Andr6 was brought
to light, the insidious designs of the enemy baffled, 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 originator of Storm's Bridge, built it, but nevertheless

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The Old Four Corners


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
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 Washington'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 eastward 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 Four
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

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where Paulding went to school in the original
building. The Paulding farm adjoined it.
But a century and more ago this was a most
active locality. At the Four Corners 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 Corners. 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 barn up
at the Four Corners 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 clothing, 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

<PB REF="00000377.tif" SEQ="00000377" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="877" N=""/>
The Philipse Manor at Yonkers.

Washington's Headquarters during Battle of White Plains. At North White Plains.

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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.

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Betty Flanagan's Cochtail


Spy." Here the tale was laid, the site of the
hamlet of the Four Corners was the stage of the
drama. According to Bolton, a little west of
the Van Wart residence stood the "Hotel Flanagan, 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 country, by
driving a cart to various military encampments
and serving refreshments. At this time the Virginia 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.' "

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SEADING 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 followed 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 Corers 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 independence and made toward Eastchester.
White Plains Avenue of the present is equivalent in a general way to the old highway, al290

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" Turhiey Hollow"o


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 milestone at Scarsdale bears witness to the present
road's integrity.
On the west of the road lies the town of Tuckahoe. 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 hereabouts, well-preserved types of former days.

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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 refreshment on their way from the West-meaning
Ohio-into New York. The mail coach, too,
stopped here regularly. There is a story connected 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 possessions, 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
Near this building stands one of the original
milestones, carefully preserved by a bowlder
which protects it from wind and weather. Already 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 "czags," is a "dale
enclosed with rocks,'" PThe Heathcote family
brought the name from their own Derbyshire.,
The town has boasted many distinguished inhabitants in its time: Daniel D. Tompkins,

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Tomphins's Escape


Vice-President of the United States, was born
here in 1774. Fenimore Cooper lived in a
"chateau" here once upon a time, abuilding
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 exaggeration of the Toryism of the place. However, 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

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above the water. The result was that he made
his escape, and returned happily to his Scarsdale
The tract of land which included Scarsdale
was ceded by its owners, the Mohicans, to John
Richbell, in the year 166o. 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; approaching 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

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Court House at White Plains      295
happened only a few hours before the Rattle 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 distinction of being organized, and the building
erected, "in 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 Court House where, on
July 10, 1776, the Provincial Congress proclaimed the passing of the dependent colony
and the birth of the independent State of New
The first court-house was erected here in I1759o
upon the removal of the courts from Westchester.
In I 76o the first Court of Common Pleas assembled here, on May 2 7th. The building was.burned, but the second and third were erected

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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 Hollis, 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
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 business. Two hotels sprang into being, with almost
the haste displayed in a mushroom town of the
West. Visitors came to town, in great numbers
for those days, and the hotels drove a brisk
trade. A country store was needed, and Dr.

<PB REF="00000387.tif" SEQ="00000387" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="895" N=""/>
The Monument Marking the Site of the Old CourtHouse, the Birthplace of the State of New
York, White Plains.

Old St. Paul's Church, at Eastchester, Used as a Military
Hospital during the Revolution.

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The Disbrow Chiminey at Mamaroneck, where Cooper's
"Spy "is Said to have Hidden.

14    ~~Z''


I'lie Mvionument to E~arly HIuguenots, at their Lanldingfl~ ace, Jionnejoti
Point, New Rochelle.

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The White Balsam


Graham himself built one. It stood op-posite
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 plump and lively twins.
White Plains (so named from the white balsam 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 history 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 between the two towns is the old mortar, preserved from the days of 1776.
The situation in September of that year was
like this. The Americans were strongly entrenched upon Harlem Heights, and Howe decided 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.

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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, Knyphausen, 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 causeways 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 Prescott and Lieutenant Bryant. Returning to his

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"Crouched as a Tiger"


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 abandon 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,

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Colonel Haslet, with about sixteen hundred men,
occupying  this eminence. M'Dougal reenforced Haslet and took general command there
the next morning. Both armies were now close
to White Plains; on the morning of the twentyninth 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 southwestern 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

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Washington's Withdrawal


shot of the front of the American lines. Awed
by the apparent strength of Washington's entrenchments, Howe dared not attack him, but
awaited the arrival of Lord Percy, with four
battalions from New York and two from Mamaroneck. The loss of the Americans, from the
twenty-sixth to the twenty-ninth, did not exceed 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 passing Crane Avenue. It stands on the west side
of the street upon a heavy base which is a

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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 ordinary monument 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 picturesque
remoteness and shabbiness-Washington's headquarters. It is the little old farmhouse that
sheltered him during his stay in White Plains.
The ridge where Washington presented so formidable an appearance as to alarm the British
army confronts you; to the left is the little
village store and post office in one: the general dispensary of mail, cough syrups, breakfast 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

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Washington's Headquarters


ing from the thick green growth with its deep
shadows, a glimpse of a weather-beaten gray
wooden building 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 successful foe, we could 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 service 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

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304            Northward
carefully 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.

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M   ADAME SARAH       KNIGHT of Charlestown, Mass., traveled from Boston to New
York in the year 1704. Riding horseback herself, she was guided by the post-rider, following
his way to New Haven, Rye, New Rochelle,
and New York. In these words she summed
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 smoothrunning 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 Spuyten
o20             305

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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 Mount 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 buildings 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 church
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

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Deserter Hung to Signpost


during the American Revolution; converted into
a Court House 1787."
The stone and brick work are sound to-day,
the building and grounds 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 Vermont, settled here in 1732. During the Revolution 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 members 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 1913 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

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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 colonize in our Southern States during 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 1661 marked the beginning of renewed persecutions, and in 1685 Louis XIV revoked the
edict. That act caused the exodus of at least
400,000 people-some historians place the number as high as 500,000. France was said to
have lost the riches that flowed from skill, sobriety, and industry.
The silk weavers moved their art to England.
kThrifty 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 France.
They settled on land which Jacob Leisler, a
German resident of New York, had obtained

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Tilze JA"Inicipazl Buil~il,1y at Rye, once iHaviland's Tavern, onl the Old P'ost Road.

The Fay 'Louse (it Easichiester, formerly a Tavern, where a British Deserter was Hung
to a Sign-Post.

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The Holly House, Gas Cob.

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Struggles of Huguenots


from John Pell, the lord of Pelham Manor. The
Pell name is to be traced to-day throughout this
Sregion. As for Jacob Leisler, the fact that he
was hung for high treason has, if anything,
added to the high esteem in which he was held,
and a monument by the sculptor Solon Borglum
stands on North Avenue, perpetuating Leisler's
Pioneering brought hardships. At the end of
the Seventeenth Century "ye inhabitants of
New   Rochelle" were "humbly   petitioning"
".1.. 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 sums of money. They are
poor and needy, reduced to a lamentable condition. 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 American settlers. Among the names familiar in
their lists are Jay, de Peyster, Luquer, Boudinot,
and Marquand. Here and there in the town

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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 Huguenot 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
But it was not long before they had their own
house of worship. When John Pell deeded the
6ooo acres to Jacob Leisler for the Huguenot
use, he threw in an extra hundred acres for good
measure, that the church of these new Americans might be erected thereon.
That famous deed is to be seen, along with

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Tom Paine Cottage


other treasures, in the Huguenot Museum on
North Avenue. An old bookcase brought from
Holland by one of these settlers is in the collection; 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
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 18o9, and was
buried on what was then his New Rochelle farm,
but in 1819 William Cobbett took his remains to
Nevertheless this Westchester County town
preserves every memory of the erratic patriot.
He was strongly identified with the place, for

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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. Ingersoll 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 dominated 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.

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The Disbrow Chimney


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
Snext historical village which it passes-one of
the oldest in the entire county, laid out in I66o.
Madame Knight wrote, "From New Rochelle
we traveled through Merrinack, a neat tho little 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, standing in the lawn of what is known as the old
Stringer residence. This chimney is the oldest
historic relic in all of Westchester County. A
few years ago the great fireplaces and closets on
each side of the stone work could be distinguished,
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 pursued. This pile of stones is all that
remains of the Disbrow house, built in 1677.
The house was burned.

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In the early part of the Eighteenth Century
Indians came to the Disbrow family and demanded 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
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 likeness 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
popular 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.

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The Jay House


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, commanded these, and our forces bore off a number
of prisoners and goodly spoil as well.
A little farther along, on the shore, is an interesting sea-and-land playground for children,
maintained by the Village Improvement Association. Swings and croquet are close beside
an enclosed bathing beach where a regularlyemployed 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 having 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 wch 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

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refresh the hungry and thirsty traveler. But
its most interesting building is one of the old
taverns of the Eighteenth Century, now the
municipal building, 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 fireplace 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 Manussing 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

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"'Eight Cotes and Seven Shirts"" 317
first purchase did not include Manussing. But
it was acquired later, about 166o, 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 consideration 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
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

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The borderline between New York and Connecticut always saw more or less stirring times,
beginning with a bottle of fire water in the
sixteen-hundreds. 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 himself 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 settlers.  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 throbbing days when Fairfield County was his field of
action. Tradition credits Miss Bush, a daughter
of the Captain, with at least part of the General'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.

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Putnam's Hill


Here, says the story, Putnam was merrymaking 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
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 visiting his outposts at West Greenwich when
Governor Tryon with a corps of fifteen hundred
men was on his march against it. Putnam had 150
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

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to the swamp below where the cavalry of the
British could 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 reported 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 distance 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,

<PB REF="00000415.tif" SEQ="00000415" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="765" N=""/>
The Tom Paine Monument at New Rochelle.


The Old Huguenot House at New Rochelle.

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The Lighthouse at Fort Schuyler.

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The Holly House


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
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 Underhill, 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 under
the jurisdiction of New York. He finally sent
Underhill with 130 men, and the captain reached
the Mianus River and rested there in the evening until moonrise. As the light slowly came,
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

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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"
Moreover, there were crossings to the Long
Island shore. At Port Chester (or possibly
Rye) there was a ferry established as early as
1739, 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 r shilling, for
every empty barrel 4 pence.. for every gammon, flitch of bacon or piece of smoked beef I
penny... forevery chair 2 pence, for every case
with bottles 9 pence, for every frying pan or
warming pan 2 pence."

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STRETCHING out into the East River, like
stiff-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 separated 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 including Barretto Point, the latter having been

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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 1910.
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 immortalized this part of our great city. Drake
found poetry in that which was near and familiar,
found 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.

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"The Pilot House"3


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 dilapidated house was once an ample and fine farmhouse, built of stone, and following the lines of
the ancient Dutch homesteads.
Other familiar names associated with Hunt's
Point are Willett, Leggett, and Tippett. Members 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.
Cornell's 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 satisfied with his proof of the fact, but the Indians
drove him out and burned his house, claiming that he had never paid them. However,
Governor Kieft issued to him a grond brief in

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1646, and in 1667 Colonel Nicolls 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 building 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 palisaded stockade stood, the Indians (who belonged
to the Mohican tribe) made a trail reaching to
Paparinemo, and this was called "the Westchester 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,

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Ferris Grange


which is the history of so many of our present
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 Whitestone, 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 run 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 gun from the direction 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.

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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 generaations 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 percentage 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 Throckmorton took a grant. The land had been
called Quinshung in the Indian language, but
was destined from that time on to bear his name,
or a form of it.
The trolley running down the Neck goes
no farther than Eastern Boulevard, leaving the
last three miles in undisturbed peace. For a
quiet walk, there is no more beautiful road
within the limits of greater New York. It is
comparatively unfrequented, so that the pedestrian has full opportunity 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.

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The Tom Paine House, New Rochelle.

The A rch Leading through the old Fortifications at Fort Schuyler.

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The Stepping Stones


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 grounds 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 Follock stopped at a tavern at Kingsbridge 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's Neck 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

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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; unfortunately, 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 unfortunate 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 Havemeyer 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

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Fort Schuyler


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 archfiend. 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-picture 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 1250o 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 found that the construction and

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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 loneliness, have to be seen to be appreciated. They
are immensely impressive, intensely melancholy.
On the high point above stands the wellknown 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 modern 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 noncommissioned 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

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""Village Dreamed of Greatriees9to 333
tance from Whitestone, and there is a 'boat connecting 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
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 possible to the American commander who succeeded,
namely Horatio Gates.
It was in 1 911 ' that the garrison was finally
withdrawn, although the fort had been gradually slipping into slumber. 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

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Maine. The smell of the sea is in the air,
doddering old fishermen with a truly down-East
look are around 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 inhabitants 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
running 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 number of persons were killed, and
the unpopularity of the road afterwards warranted 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

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City Island Bridge


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 horsecars 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
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
Beyond it, a strip of land covering 230 acres
and a string bean, extends into the
water. All the way along you feel sea life in the
air; launches 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.

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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 240 N.,
Longitude 29~ 30' W., that is 6oo 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 until the boom
of the seventeen-sixties that the name City

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An Algonquin Village


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 Algonquin village, subsisting on the
bivalve, used to occupy this strip of land.
Fishing 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 vanished, leaving us no tangible memorial.
Strolling back from the point of the island
and crossing the bridge, you will find yourself

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at Marshall's Comers, at the end of Rodman's
Neck.   This point is marked by a fine old
colonial house of Southern type, built 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 r6gime of the Park Commission of the
City of New York, a vast playground 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
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 volunteer 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.

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One of the Old Guns at Fort Schuyler.

The Old Fortifications, Fort Schuyler.

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7'he Old Shot Tower, Built in 1821 to Replace One of
Revolutionary Days.


An Old Block House, a Relic of the War of 1812, in Morningside Park.

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Glover's Rocl


Its tablet reads, "In memory of five hundred
and fifty patriots who, led by Col. John Glover,
held General Howe's army in check at the
Battle of Pell's Point, October I18, 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

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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 burn.
Before the regulars arrived several barges from
the ships, full of armed men, landed on City
Island and a great killing of cattle was the
result. Two companies of Americans were carried 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 under the
name of the "Tory Westchester Light Horse."
They fought along the banks of Westchester

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-- ---

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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 suit 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 Manhattan. Some of these are unfamiliar 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 handsup 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

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The Heart of New Yorh

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 until 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 surrounded by squatty buildings, 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 Farmhouse."  Sleek patches of vegetables,  cowcropped grass, flanked the substantial old Dutch

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Smith's Folly


house which was called the oldest building 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 61st Street. A huge gas tank looms; close
beside it, on an elevation of ground, 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 distinguished
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 barn.

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The Heart of New Yorh

But the roof was no more than on the building,
when Colonel Smith's bubble burst, he failed
completely in business, and the name of "Smith's
Folly" was fixed upon the house and barn for all
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 residence, 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 18oo; those left are
fast slipping away.
Only in 1914, one landmark of this vicinity
succumbed to progress-progress, heralded by
pick and shovel and crane. The old Schermerhorn 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
Following First Avenue north to 68th Street
and turning west a few doors, you come upon

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Baron Steuben


the German Reformed Church, 156 years old,
where John Jacob Astor served as elder more
than a century ago. The original church was
far down-town, but when it was moved north its
famous monument was carried along, and you
will find it to-day, yellowed with years, set
in the wall above the staircase. Its inscription runs:
"Sacred to the memory of Fredk Willm 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 citizensoldiers; 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

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The Heart of New Yorh

shore, from what is now 7oth 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 Provoosts' time; but the most picturesque part
of its history was connected with those earlier
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-hundreds used to
shiver and tell delicious, creepy stories of the
old rascal whose ghost haunted these two black
caverns. Not until 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 1813, now sadly out of repair.
Siebert Classen came from Holland in days

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The Jumel Mansion.

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The Gracie Mansion, at old Iorn's Hook.

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

- --=2

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Home of Archibald Gracie


before the Revolution, made this crook of land
his own, and named it for Hoorn, in Holland,
which had been his home. During both wars
with England it served as a fine station for
batteries, commanding the entrance below Hell
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 I80o and is included within the present
asylum grounds. 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.
Gracie, 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.


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The Heart of New Yorh

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 1915, 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
"Old Put" ever missed any opportunity for a

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Harlem Heights


shrewd military move. While Howe was thus
occupied with the charming lady's entertainment, Putnam was able to march his four
thousand men up the shore of the Hudson, until
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.
Si oth Street marks the southern boundary of
that district formerly called Harlem Heights.
On Broadway, north of II3th Street, stands St.
Luke's Home for Aged Women; here is a memorial 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 II8th Street, on the Engineering Building of Columbia University. "To commemorate 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 autumn day of '76 which this square
of bronze pictures, the British forces were round
about here. They had made their camp on this
side of I25th Street, and were filled with overweening confidence. It did not disturb them in

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The Heart of New York

the least that two detachments of American
Rangers had been sent out that morning from the
Point of Rocks at the corner of 126th Street and
Columbus Avenue, under the command of
Knowlton and Leitch, with the aim of the rear of the British on Vanderwater's
Heights, now the grounds of Columbia University. 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 ciallenge roused all the
fire that slumbered under American coats.
The upshot was the battle in the Buckwheat
Field. Where Barnarl College rises, where its
athletic field fronts its doors of learning, there
waved the grain in '76. It was to this point, near
I19th 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 under
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."

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Blochhouse of Morningsicle Heights 353
Before continuing in the path of this battlestory, 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 1812. Fort 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 1812 is to be seen near by, in the tablet
on Fayerweather Hall, at I I7th 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 boundary 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
In pre-Revolutionary days, when Dutch
names abounded, this depression of land, reaching 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

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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,
and has been blasted away.
Continuing north on Broadway to 162d Street
and turning east for more than a block, you
reach the Roger Morris or Jumel Mansion where
Washington made his headquarters from September 16th to October 2Ist of 1776. The
American camp reached upward from the Hollow Way to this building, and commanded the
situation. Here, in the north room known as
the Council Chamber, the General discussed
his plans and gave commands, to a most successful issue.
Familiar as the house 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 delightful 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

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Cowpaths and Footpaths


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 suggesting 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
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, following 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 uninhabited land beyond the town. In Broadway
of the present we see the traces of this. Later

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The Heart of New Yorh

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 built in
1653 to protect the town against a threatened invasion of New Englanders, 'a lithe, slippery, aggressive 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 advanced. 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; during 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 romantically say that it was a lover's lane where the
most beautiful maidens abounded.

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Poem by Charles Hanson Towne 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,
Columns 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.

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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 Bowling 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 XHeere 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

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Putnam in New Yorh


Seventeenth Century, and in fact (Lt did not
cease to be a residence street until well into the
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 ',ennedy
house, an old, landmark which stood until 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
When General Israel Putnam came to New
York during 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

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The Heart of New Yorh

ing century, 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 American 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 ini the museum of
the New York Historical Society.
Where Wall Street meets iroadway 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, rebuilt after the Revolution and the jresent
building was erected in I839. 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,

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" 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.

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The Van Cortlandt Mansion.

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Montgomery's Burial


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
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 funeralboat bearing his remains came slowly down the
river, and, looking from her house, she saw it
approach. "The pomp with which it was conducted 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.

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The Heart of New Yorh

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 following 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 Yorkc
State governors, beginning with George ClintoQn.

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Irving and Terry


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 Broadway not far above the Commons. The Broadway Theater was between Pearl and Worth
streets-Edwin Forrest and young Lester Wallack are among the names associated with its
halcyon days. The first Wallack's Theater was
at the corner 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 American 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 Broadway 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

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The Heart of New Yorh

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 swordsman would a foil, and her laugh rang the clearest
when an unfortunate one was unhorsed 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 memories. Grace Church at the corner of Ioth
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 thoroughfares of the island. In I807 the commissioners
laid out a plan to make these two roads meet at
the "Tulip Tree" which stood in what is now

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Union Square


Union Square. Above Union Square was the
Bloomingdale Road in those years. Broadway
had bent at Ioth Street, just below, to preserve 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, surrounded 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 decorate 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

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The Heart of New York

attracted visitors from all over the country.
Nymphs and Satyr by Bougereau was particularly admired, among works by the greatest
artists of two continents.
From 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 following 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 fortifications above Canal Street, he managed to escape
the cordon of British troops being thrown across

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Country Seats of Colonial Day. 367
the island and joined the chief on the Bloomingdale Road at this point, barely getting through
in the nick of time. A tablet to commemorate
this joyful meeting of the two generals was
erected on the west side of the square 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 Bloomningdale
Road. Lorillard, Livingston, and Clarkson were
among the well-known property owners below
96th Street. Some of the estates were confiscated 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 Height s
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 Lawrence Street, you will come upon a short street

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The Heart of New Yorh

marked "Old Broadway." This follows for its
brief course the actual line of the old Bloomingdale 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
On the old road, at 40oth 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 Jumel 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 possession 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

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Fort Washington


clergyman along as his lieutenant, and demanding that the wedding take place then and there.
Above here, at I68th Street, Broadway and
the Kingsbridge Road become one, and continue under the name of the former. It leads
us past Fort 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 Frederick Philipse of the Manor of Philipsburgh. Its
successor, built in 1713, saw the retreat of
Washington's troops in October of '76, and was
broken down, but repaired. After the Revolution a new and good bridge was built.
Among the old homes to be found along
Broadway is the Dyckman house, at the comer
of 2o09th Street. Another is the Macomb
mansion facing the Broadway bridgei. 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 Alexan24

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The Heart of New 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,
Corney'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 museum
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 wound
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 1781. 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.

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Dutch Kleystones           371
]Frederick Van Cortlandt died the year after
erecting the building, 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.

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IN setting out to make the little pilgrimages
around Manhattan which have been sketched
in the foregoing chapters, the traveler in automobile 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.
I. To Jericho. (Chapter II.)
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 Fulton St.
Take trolley to Hollis.
Take electric car to Hempstead. Runs every
Take trolley to Mineola, then to Hicksville.

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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 Playground, Bowne House on Bowne Ave., etc.
3. To Flatlands. (Chapter IV.)
Take Brooklyn subway to Atlantic Avenue.
Take Flatbush Ave. trolley to Lefferts Homestead, 563 Flatbush Avenue. Walk to points
named near by.
Continue on Flatbush Ave. trolley to Flatlands 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 Vanderbilt Ave. car, to Prospect Park.

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Staten Island Routes


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
corner of Flatbush Ave. and Fulton St.)
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.
6. To Oude Dorp. (Chapter VII.)
Take ferry to St. George, Staten Island, at
South Ferry. Walk to Lighthouse Reservation,
then to Public Museum.

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Returning to Bay St., take trolley to Grant,
"Planters' 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 VIII.)
St. George ferry and Richmond car to Emerson
Continue on  Richmond car, stopping at
Perrine house, to New Dorp. Leave car at
Moravian Church. Walk to Black Horse Tavern and Fountain House.
Continue on car to its terminus at Richmond.
8. Tottenville and Perth Amboy. (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.
9. Newark. (Chapter X.)
Take Cortlandt or Desbrosses St. ferry to
Jersey City, then trolley to Newark. Or take
Tube directly to Newark.

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New Jersey Routes


Visit points near Market and Broad sts.,
going north to State and Broad, the old Plume
Take Clinton Ave. car to Gouverneur St.,
walk to Mt. Pleasant Ave., see Cockloft Hall.
Take Main Line trolley to Old Lyons Farms,
leaving car at Chancellor St.
Io. 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 Brunswick can be reached by trolley
from Elizabeth by way of Bound Brook. Main
Line trolley.
S1. Plainfield and Bound Brook. (Chapter
Take C. R. R. of N. J. to Plainfield.
Take trolley to Dunellen, and make side trip
to Washington Rock.
Continue by trolley to Bound Brook.
Or, take Tube to Newark, and thence trolley
all the way. The running time from Newark
to Bound Brook is about two and one-half hours.

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12. To Springfield and Morristown. (Chapter
Take D. L. and W. R. R. to Milburn, thence
continue by trolley to Springfield, Chatham,
Madison, and Morristown. Return 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 Maplewood, changing there for Springfield car.
13. To Passaic and Paterson. (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 monument.
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.

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Westchester County Routes


(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.
15. Sneden's Landing and Tappan. (Chapter
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.
16. Along the Hudson to Sleepy Hollow. (Chapter XVII.)
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.

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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
17. On the Sawmill River Road. (Chapter
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 Elmsford.
Walk to Four Corners.
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.

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Bronx Routes


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
Continue on same railway to New Rochelle.
Take Stamford trolley to all other points.
20. Throg's Neck and City Island. (Chapter
Take N. Y., N. H., and H. R. R. (Harlem
River Branch) to Hunt's Point, Clason Point,
Westchester (Throg's Neck), City Island Station.
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.

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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
Take Broadway subway to Cathedral Parkway 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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Christopher (the younger),
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
Borglum, 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


<PB REF="00000498.tif" SEQ="00000498" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="IND" CNF="885" N="394"/>


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 Turnpike Co., 20
Brown, C. T., III
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,
Camp Ground, Bound Brook,
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
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,
Grace Episcopal,    New
York, 364
Methodist Episcopal, Hartsdale, 295
Presbyterian, Elizabeth,
Presbyterian, Jamaica, 22
Morristown, 201
Newark, 143, 144
Paterson, 217
Springfield, 190
St. Andrew's, Richmond,
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
Clinton, Gov. George, 346
Sir Henry, 91, 245
Close, Nathaniel, 322
Closter Landing, 220
Clute, J. J., 97, 104
Cochran, Dr. John, 199
William F., 280
Cockloft Hall, 149
Colden, Cadwallader D., 8
Columbia University, 351, 352,
Coney Island, 82
Conover, D., 83, 86
Cooper, Daniel, 171

<PB REF="00000499.tif" SEQ="00000499" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="IND" CNF="881" N="395"/>

Cooper, Fenimore, 288, 293,314,
Cornelisson, Michael, 154
Cornell, Thomas, 325
Cornell's Neck, 325
Cornwallis, Gen., 221
headquarters, 221
Cortelyou, Aaron, 114
family, 113
J., 49
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, 16o
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, 16o
Dobbs Ferry, 237, 254
Jeremiah, 237
Dongan, Gov., 119
Dongan Hills, II I, I14
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

lex                      395
Elizabeth roads, 156, 168, 170
Elliott farm, 364
Ellis Island, 80
Elmsford, 282
Emerson Hill, 1no
Emerson, Ralph Waldo, IIm
William, 11o
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, 6o
Flatlands, 54
roads, 49, 6o
Flushing, I, 39
Bridge and Road Co., 35
Institute, 45
roads, 35, 36
Forbes, Philip J., 26
Ford, Jacob, 197
at Elizabeth, 162
Hamilton, 82
Lee, 225
Nonsense, 203
Putnam, 67
Schuyler, 331
Totten, 332
Wadsworth, 1o6
Washington, 227, 369
Fort Lee, village, 225
Fountain house, 118
Four Corners, 287
Fox, George, 41
Oaks, 42
Franklin, Gov. William, 134
Freneau, Philip, 94
Friends at
Flushing, 40

<PB REF="00000500.tif" SEQ="00000500" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="IND" CNF="872" N="396"/>


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
Gcrritsen family, 209
Gibbet Island, 6o, 8o
Gibbs, Pirate, 59, 8o
Gilman, Charles, 176
widow of, 176
Glcntworth, 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, 8o
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
Hollis, 24
Hollow Way, 350, 353
Holly house, 318, 321
Hollywood Inn, 280
Hopping family, 86, 87
Horn, Maj., 353
Horn's Hook, 348
Hotels on Broadway, 366
Hotine house, 45
Howard's Half Way House, 68
Howe, Gen., 44, 65, 102, io6,
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

<PB REF="00000501.tif" SEQ="00000501" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="IND" CNF="886" N="397"/>


Jameco, 23
Mohicans, 274, 294,316, 326
Rockaway, 23
Ingersoll, 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, II, 238,
264, 276, 281, 315, 336, 357,
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,
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, Ioo
Lilienthal, C. H., 252
Lincoln, Gen. Benjamin, 184
Lincoln statue, New York, 365
Linnean 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

<PB REF="00000502.tif" SEQ="00000502" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="IND" CNF="883" N="398"/>


Manhattan, 343
roads, 343, 355
Manning, Capt. John, 344
Mansion House, Hackensack,
Marine Hospital, Staten Island,
Marquand family, 309
Marsh family, 136
John, 169
Marshall house, 338
Martyrs' Tomb, Brooklyn, 70,
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,
Middletown Road, 83, 90
Milestone, at Scarsdale, 292
Mill, at Plainfield, 180
Miller farmhouse, White Plains,
Monckton, Gen., 115
Monmouth County, 91
Montgomery, Gen. Richard, 361
Moravians, 112
Morris, Ira K., 1o3
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,
Navesink, go
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,
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
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
Philip R., 265

<PB REF="00000503.tif" SEQ="00000503" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="IND" CNF="883" N="399"/>


Pavilion Hill, 102
Peach War, 108
Peel, Sir R., 43
Pelham, 307
Pell, John, 309, 310
Perrine family, 113
homestead, II
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 York, 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,
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,
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,
Rufus, 369
Putnam Cottage (museum), 320
Quarantine, New York, 98
Queen Anne, 28, 120

Rahway, 168 -Randolph, J. F., 1791
Ravenswood, 37
Richards, Rev. James, 145
Richbell, John, 294
Richmond, IIo, 119
Road, III
Ringwood, 217
Rochambeau, Gen., 255, 281,
Rockaway, 13
Rockefeller, William, 270
Rodman's Neck, 338
Roger Morris Mansion, 354, 368
Rogers, William, 244
Romer family, 286
Rose and Crown, 102, I16
Rosebank, lo4
Ross, Peter, 6o
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
Sayre, Ephraim, 196
Scarsdale, 291
Schenck house, 56
Wilhelmina, 56
Schermerhorn house, 346
Schuyler, Elizabeth, 199
Gen. Philip S., 199, 333
Scott, Gen. Winfield, 157
Seabury family, 28
Shadyside, 234
Shaw, William H., 192
Shepard, Mrs. Finley, 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

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South Beach,-Io9
Southworth, Mrs. E. D. E. N.,
Spangenburg, Bishop, 112
Split Rock Road, 339
Spong, Sarah, 55
Springfield, 189
Turnpike, 189
Spy, the, 289, 293, 313
Staats, Abraham, 185
Stapleton, 104
Staten Island, 96
Association of Arts and
Sciences, Ioo
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, William, 7
Stony Brook, Staten   Island,
II5, 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 F., 21,
23, 26, 35, 46
Mrs. (Washington's housekeeper), 198

Throckmorton, John, 328
Throg's Neck, 328
Tilden, Samuel J., 253
Times, the New York, 366
Times Square, 366
Tippett family, 325
Todt Hill, 114
Tompkins, Judge Caleb, 293
D. D., io6, 292
family, 291
John, 306
Tompkinsville, Io1
Totten family, 132
Tottenville, 124
Towel, Jeremiah, 346
Towne, Charles Hanson, 357
Treat, Robert, 143
Tuckahoe, 291
Ulmann, Albert, 356
Undercliff Settlement, 224
Underhill, Capt., 321
Union Hall Academy, 22
United Brethren, Staten Island,
Untermyer, Samuel, 253
Urquhart, F. J., 140, 146
Van Cortlandt family, 270, 361
Frederick, 370
Jacobus, 371
ansion, 370
Van Dam, Rip, 19
Vanderbilt, Cornelius, 103
houses, Staten Island, 102,
103; Flatbush, 54
Jacobus and Vettje, II2
mausoleum, 113
Phoebe, Io3
Rem, 53
Sarah, 53
William H., 114
Vanderbilt's Periauger Ferry,
Van der Donck, Adrien, 274
Van Deursen, William, 172
Vandeveers, G., 49
Van Duzer's Ferry, 10o
Van Nuise home, 172
Van Tassel, Cornelius, 282
family, 286
Jacob and family, 263

<PB REF="00000505.tif" SEQ="00000505" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="IND" CNF="885" N="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, o09
Vulture, the, 243
Wakefield, 290
Waldenses, 96, 97, 115, I18
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 romance), 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, Mamaroneck, 314

Washington's Rock, Plainfield,
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
Wolfert's Roost, 257
Woodbridge, 170, 178
Woodhull, Gen. Nathaniel, 24,
Woodruff, Samuel, 158, i6o
Wright, lighthouse keeper, go
Yonkers, 274
ferry, 220
York, Duke of, 127, 146
Youle, tower built by, 344
Young, Joseph   and  family,

Zabriskie, Peter, 231, 232

<PB REF="00000506.tif" SEQ="00000506" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="100" N=""/>

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<PB REF="00000510.tif" SEQ="00000510" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="100" N=""/>

<PB REF="00000511.tif" SEQ="00000511" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="829" N=""/>
JA Selection from the
Catalogue of
Complete Catalogue **nt
on application

<PB REF="00000512.tif" SEQ="00000512" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="100" N=""/>

<PB REF="00000513.tif" SEQ="00000513" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="874" N=""/>
Hi~storic New York
Pictures of Social and Political Life in
New Asterdam and Early
New York
Edited by Maud Wilder Goodwin, Alice
Carrington Royce, Ruth Putnam,
Eva Palmer Brownell
80. With 62 Illustrations, including Charts
and Diagrams. $3.50 net. By mail, $.3.75.
This volume does not attempt to give any
connected history of the city, but to present
authentic accounts of localities of special interest, and to describe the features peculiar to the
life of the olden time in New Amsterdam and
early New York. It offers, in convenient form
for ready reference, carefully gleaned information, enlivened by hints of legend and tradition
which have cast their glamor- over Manhattan
Island; and it has been the aim of the editors
to make the volume of value to the general
reader as well as to the students of history.
The editors have studied not only the standard
authorities, but have consulted the Dutch
Archives and have made researches in the
records of the Historical Societies of the various cities of the State, and have spared no
labor in their efforts to make their accounts
thoroughly trustworthy.
New York   G. P. Putnam's Sons' London~

<PB REF="00000514.tif" SEQ="00000514" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="878" N=""/>

The Old Boston
Post Road
By Stephen Jenkins
80. 200 Illustrations and Maps. $3.50
The author has chosen for the subject of this
volume the oldest and most northerly of these
post roads: that over which the first post-rider
went; that which echoed to the war-whoop
of the savage; that which saw the passage of
the soldiers to and from the seat of activities
during the French wars; that which beheld
the flocking of the minute-men upon the
Lexington Alarm; or the rallying of the militia
to the standard of Gates; that which served
several times for the journeys of Washington,
and that which later became the pathway of
countless thousands of emigrants on their way
to the rich valleys of the Mohawk and the
Genesee, or to the fertile prairies of the
Middle West.
G. P. Putnam's Sons
New York                         London

<PB REF="00000515.tif" SEQ="00000515" RES="600dpi" FMT="TIFF6.0" FTR="UNS" CNF="880" N=""/>
I 1

".  book every one should read"
New YorK Sun
The Greatest Street
in the World
The Story of Broadway, Old and New, from
Bowling Green to Albany
By Stephen Jenkins
Member Westchester County Historical Society
160 Illustrations and six maps. 500 pages
$5.50 net. (3.75 by mail)
In this volume Mr. Jenkins has presented the whole history of Broadway,
old and new, through all the miles of
its long course from Bowling Green
to Albany; its historic associations
from pre-Revolutionary times to the
present, its theatres and the actors that
made them famous, its literary incidents and personalities, the busy hum
of city life that rises heavenward
between its towering buildings, and all
the abundant energy that flows through
it ceaselessly.
Send for Illustrated Circular
New York 0. P. Putnam's Sons London

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The Story of
The Bronx
From the Purchase made by the Dutch from
the Indians in 1639 to the Present Day
By Stephen Jenkins
Member of Westchester County Historical Society, Author of
"The Greatest Street in the World-Broadway"
110 Illustrations and Maps. $3.50 net
By mail, $3.75
The romantic history of the northern section of Greater
New York from the days of Jonas Bronck, after whom The
Bronx was named, through the centuries crowded with
events that have issued into the present. The picturesque
days of the Dutch regime in New Amsterdam, the occupation of the country in the name of the Duke of York and
its history as a royal province, the fighting era of the
Revolution, and the period of development that has since
then been gaining velocity are told of, not with reference
to Manhattan, which has had historians aplenty, but
with reference to The Bronx, about which there has
hitherto existed no properly unified work of history.
The geographical landmarks acquire a new significance as
around them this accurate historian of local events and
conditions weaves the substantial fabric of fact and more
sparingly the lighter web of tradition. It is a book in
which the narrative of history is pleasantly diversified by
accounts of all that has gone to enrich life and to add to
the dignity of the territory '&gt;day embraced in the
Borough of The Bronx.
6. P. Putnam's Sons

New York


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To renew the charge, book must be brought to the desk.

Form 7079a 6-52 5M

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3 9015 03869 8786


&#x00FD;Comstackv --Sarah
Old roads from the
hleart of New York..........................................................................................................................................................................................

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