Peter Stuyvesant, the Last Dutch Governor of New Amsterdam

"There had already been thrown upon it," they write,

"a pail full of Gouanes oysters, which are the best in the country. They are large, some of them not less than a foot long, and they grow, sometimes ten, twelve and sixteen together, and are then like a piece of rock. We had for supper a roasted haunch of venison which weighed thirty pounds, and which he had bought of the Indians for fifteen cents. The meat was exceedingly tender and good and quite fat. We were served also with wild turkey, which was also fat and of a good flavor, and a wild goose. Everything we had was the natural production of the country. We saw lying in a heap, a hill of watermelons as large as pumpkins. It was late at night when we went to rest, in a Kermis bed, as it is called, in the corner of the hearth, alongside of a good fire."

"The next morning they threaded their way through the forest, and along the shore to the extreme west end of the island, where fort Hamilton now stands. They passed through a large plantation, of the Najack Indians, which was waving with corn. A noise of pounding drew them to a place where a very aged Indian woman was beating beans out of the pods with a stick, which she did with amazing dexterity. Near by was the little cluster of houses of the dwindling tribe. The village consisted of seven or eight huts, occupied by between twenty and thirty Indians, men, women and children.

"These huts were about sixty feet long and fifteen wide. The floor was of earth. The posts were large limbs of trees, planted firmly in the ground. The sides were of reeds and the bark of trees. An open space, about six inches wide, ran along the whole length of the roof, for the passage of smoke. On the sides the roof was so low that a man could not stand under it.

"They build their fire in the middle of the floor, according to the number of families which live in the hut; not only the families themselves, but each Indian alone, according as he is hungry, at all hours morning, noon and night. They lie upon mats with their feet towards the fire. All in one house, are generally of one stock, as father and mother, with their offspring. Their bread is maize, pounded by a stone, which is mixed with water and baked under the hot ashes.

"They gave us a small piece when we entered; and although the grains were not ripe, and it was half-baked and coarse grains, we nevertheless had to eat it, or at least not throw it away before them, which they would have regarded as a great sin, or a great affront. We chewed a little of it with long teeth, and managed to hide it so that they did not see it.

"On Wednesday a farmer harnessed his horse to a wagon and carried them back to the city. The road led through the forest and over very rough and stony hills, making the ride quite uncomfortable. Passing again through the little village of Breukelen, they crossed the ferry and reached home about noon. On Friday they took an exploring tour through the island of Manhattan. Their pleasant description is worth transcribing.

"This island is about seven hours distance in length, but it is not a full hour broad. The sides are indented with bays, coves and creeks. It is almost entirely taken up, that is the land is held by private owners, but not half of it is cultivated. Much of it is good woodland. The west end, on which the city lies, is entirely cleared, for more than an hour's distance, though that is the poorest ground; the best being on the east and north side. There are many brooks of fresh water running through it, pleasant and proper for man and beast to drink; as well as agreeable to behold, affording cool and pleasant resting places, but especially suitable places for the construction of mills, for though there is no overflow of water, it can be used.

"A little east of New Harlaem, there are two ridges of very high rocks, with a considerable space between them, displaying themselves very majestically, and inviting all men to acknowledge in them the grandeur, power and glory of the Creator, who has impressed such marks upon them. Between them runs the road to Spuyt den Duyvel. The one to the north is the most apparent. The south ridge is covered with earth on its north side, but it can be seen from the water or from the mainland beyond to the south. The soil between these ridges is very good, though a little hilly and stony. It would be very suitable, in my opinion, for planting vineyards, in consequence of its being shut off on both sides, from the winds which would most injure them; and it is very warm. We found blue grapes along the road, which were very good and sweet, and as good as any I have tasted in the fatherland.

"We went from the city, following the Broadway, over the valley or the fresh water. Upon both sides of this way there were many habitations of negroes, mulattoes and whites. The negroes were formerly the slaves of the West India Company. But, in consequence of the frequent changes and conquests of the country, they have obtained their freedom, and settled themselves down where they thought proper, and thus on this road, where they have grown enough to live on with their families. We left the village called Bowery on the right hand, and went through the woods to Harlaem, a tolerably large village situated directly opposite the place where the northeast creek and the East river come together. It is about three hours' journey from New Amsterdam."

From the account which these gentlemen give, the morals of the people certainly do not appear to have been essentially better than now. They passed the night at the house of the sheriff. "This house was constantly filled with people all the time drinking, for the most part, that execrable rum. He had also the best cider we have tasted. Among the crowd we found a person of quality, an Englishman, named Captain Carteret, whose father is in great favor with the king. The king has given his father, Sir George Carteret, the entire government of the lands west of the North river in New Netherland, with power to appoint as governor whom he pleases.

"This son is a very profligate person. He married a merchant's daughter here, and has so lived with his wife that her father has been compelled to take her home again. He runs about among the farmers and stays where he can find most to drink, and sleeps in barns on the straw. If he conducted himself properly, he could be, not only governor here, but hold higher positions, for he has studied the moralities and seems to have been of a good understanding. But that is all now drowned. His father, who will not acknowledge him as his son, allows him yearly as much only as is necessary for him to live on."

Saturday morning they set out from Harlaem village to go to the northern extremity of the island.

"Before we left we did not omit supplying ourselves with peaches, which grew in an orchard along the road. The whole ground was covered with them and with apples lying upon the new grain with which the orchard was planted. The peaches were the most delicious we had yet eaten. We proceeded on our way and when we were not far from the point of Spuyt den Duyvel, we could see on our left the rocky cliffs of the mainland, and on the other side of the North river these cliffs standing straight up and down, with the grain just as if they were antimony.

"We crossed over the Spuyt den Duyvel in a canoe, and paid nine stivers fare for us three, which was very dear.12 We followed the opposite side of the land and came to the house of one Valentyn. He had gone to the city; but his wife was so much rejoiced to see Hollanders that she hardly knew what to do for us. She set before us what she had. We left after breakfasting there. Her son showed us the way, and we came to a road entirely covered with peaches. We asked a boy why he let them lie there and why he did not let the hogs eat them. He answered 'We do not know what to do with them; there are so many. The hogs are satiated with them and will not eat any more.'

"We pursued our way now a small distance, through the woods and over the hills, then back again along the shore to a point where an English man lived, who was standing ready to cross over. He carried us over with him and refused to take any pay for our passage, offering us at the same time, some of his rum, a liquor which is everywhere. We were now again at Harlaem, and dined with the sheriff, at whose house we had slept the night before. It was now two o'clock. Leaving there, we crossed over the island, which takes about three-quarters of an hour to do, and came to the North river. We continued along the shore to the city, where we arrived in the evening, much fatigued, having walked this day about forty miles."

The rather singular record for the next day, which was Sunday, was as follows:

"We went at noon to-day to hear the English minister, whose service took place after the Dutch service was out. There were not above twenty-five or thirty people in the church. The first thing that occurred was the reading of all their prayers and ceremonies out of the prayer-book, as is done in all Episcopal churches. A young man then went into the pulpit, and commenced preaching, who thought he was performing wonders. But he had a little book in his hand, out of which he read his sermon which was about quarter of an hour or half an hour long. With this the services were concluded; at which we could not be sufficiently astonished."

Though New York had passed over to British rule, still for very many years the inhabitants remained Dutch in their manners, customs and modes of thought. There was a small stream, emptying into the East river nearly opposite Blackwell's Island. This stream was crossed by a bridge which was called Kissing Bridge. It was a favorite drive, for an old Dutch custom entitled every gentleman to salute his lady with a kiss as he crossed.

The town wind-mill stood on a bluff within the present Battery. Pearl street at that time formed the river bank. Both Water street and South street have been reclaimed from the river. The city wall consisted of a row of palisades, with an embankment nine feet high. Upon the bastions of this rampart several cannon were mounted.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE OLDEN TIME

Wealth and Rank of the Ancient Families.—Their Vast Landed Estates.—Distinctions in Dress.—Veneration for the Patroon.—Kip's Mansion.—Days of the Revolution.—Mr. John Adams' Journal.—Negro Slavery.—Consequences of the System.—General Panic.

Many of the families who came from the Old World to the Hudson when New Netherland was under the Dutch regime, brought with them the tokens of their former rank and affluence. Valuable paintings adorned their walls. Rich plate glittered upon their dining table. Obsequious servants, who had been accustomed in feudal Europe to regard their masters as almost beings of a superior order, still looked up to them in the same reverential service. The social distinctions of the old country very soon began to prevail in the thriving village of New York. The governor was fond of show and was fully aware of its influence upon the popular mind. His residence became the seat of quite a genteel little court.

"The country was parcelled out," writes Rev. Bishop Kip,

"among great proprietors. We can trace them from the city of New Amsterdam to the northern part of the State. In what is now the thickly populated city were the lands of the Stuyvesants, originally the Bouwerie of the old governor. Next above were the grant to the Kip family, called Kip's Bay, made in 1638. In the centre of the island was the possessions of the De Lanceys. Opposite, on Long Island, was the grant of the Laurence family. We cross over Harlaem river and reach Morrisania, given to the Morris family. Beyond this on the East river, was De Lancey's farm, another grant to that powerful family; while on the Hudson to the west, was the lower Van Courtland manor, and the Phillipse manor. Above, at Peekskill, was the upper manor of the Van Courtlands. Then came the manor of Kipsburg, purchased by the Kip family from the Indians in 1636, and made a royal grant by governor Dongan two years afterwards.

"Still higher up was the Van Rensselaer manor, twenty-four miles by forty-eight; and above that the possession of the Schuylers. Farther west, on the Mohawk, were the broad lands of Sir William Johnson, created a baronet for his services in the old French and Indian wars, who lived in a rude magnificence at Johnson Hall."

The very names of places in some cases show their history. Such for instance, is that of Yonkers. The word Younker, in the languages of northern Europe, means the nobly born, the gentleman. In Westchester, on the Hudson river, still stands the old manor house of the Phillipse family. The writer remembers in his early days when visiting there, the large rooms and richly ornamented ceilings, with quaint old formal gardens about the house. When before the revolution, Mr. Phillipse lived there, lord of all he surveyed, he was always spoken of by his tenantry as the Yonker, the gentleman, par excellence. In fact he was the only person of social rank in that part of the country. In this way the town, which subsequently grew up about the old manor house, took the name of Yonkers.

The early settlement of New England was very different in its character. Nearly all the emigrants were small farmers, upon social equality, cultivating the fields with their own hands. Governors Carver and Bradford worked as diligently with hoe and plough as did any of their associates. They were simply first among equals.

"The only exception to this," writes Mr. Kip,

"which we can remember was the case of the Gardiners of Maine. Their wide lands were confiscated for their loyalty. But on account of some informality, after the Revolution, they managed to recover their property and are still seated at Gardiner."

For more than a century these distinguished families in New Netherland retained their supremacy undisputed. They filled all the posts of honor and emolument. The distinctions in society were plainly marked by the dress. The costume of the gentleman was very rich. His coat of glossy velvet was lined with gold lace. His flowing sleeves and ruffled cuffs gave grace to all the movements of his arms and hands. Immense wigs adorned his brow with almost the dignity of Olympian Jove. A glittering rapier, with its embossed and jewelled scabbard, hung by his side.

The common people in New Netherland, would no more think of assuming the dress of a gentleman or lady, than with us, a merchant or mechanic would think of decorating himself in the dress of a Major-General in the United States army. There was an impassable gulf between the peasantry and the aristocracy. The laborers on these large Dutch estates were generally poor peasants, who had been brought over by the landed proprietors, passage free. They were thus virtually for a number of years, slaves of the patroon, serving him until, by their labor, they had paid for their passage money. In the language of the day they were called Redemptioners. Often the term of service of a man, who had come over with his family, amounted to seven years.

"This system," writes Mr. Kip,

"was carried out to an extent of which most persons are ignorant. On the Van Rensselaer manor, there were at one time, several thousand tenants, and their gathering was like that of the Scottish clans. When a member of the family died they came down to Albany to do honor at the funeral, and many were the hogsheads of good ale which were broached for them. They looked up to the Patroon with a reverence which was still lingering in the writer's early day, notwithstanding the inroads of democracy. And before the Revolution this feeling was shared by the whole country. When it was announced, in New York, a century ago, that the Patroon was coming down from Albany by land, the day he was expected to reach the city, crowds turned out to see him enter in his coach and four."

The aristocratic Dutchmen cherished a great contempt for the democratic Puritans of New England. One of the distinguished members of a colonial family in New York, who died in the year 1740, inserted the following clause in his will:

"It is my wish that my son may have the best education that is to be had in England or America. But my express will and directions are, that he never be sent for that purpose, to the Connecticut colonies, lest he should imbibe in his youth, that low craft and cunning, so incidental to the people of that country, which is so interwoven in their constitutions, that all their acts cannot disguise it from the world; though many of them, under the sanctified garb of religion, have endeavored to impose themselves on the world as honest men."

Usually once in a year the residents in their imposing manorial homes repaired, from their rural retreats, to New York to make their annual purchases. After the country passed into the hands of the English, several men of high families came over. These all held themselves quite aloof from the masses of the people. And there was no more disposition among the commonalty to claim equality with these high-born men and dames, than there was in England for the humble farmers to deny any social distinction between themselves and the occupants of the battlemented castles which overshadowed the peasant's lowly cot.

Lord Cornbury was of the blood royal. The dress and etiquette of courts prevailed in his spacious saloons. "About many of their old country houses," writes Mr. Kip,

"were associations gathered often coming down from the first settlement of the country, giving them an interest which can never invest the new residences of those whom later times elevated through wealth. Such was the Van Courtland manor-house, with its wainscotted room and guest chamber; the Rensselaer manor-house, where of old had been entertained Talleyrand, and the exiled princes from Europe; the Schuyler house, so near the Saratoga battle-field, and marked by memories of that glorious event in the life of its owner; and the residence of the Livingstons, on the banks of the Hudson, of which Louis Philippe expressed such grateful recollections when, after his elevation to the throne, he met, in Paris, the son of his former host."

At Kip's Bay there was a large mansion which for two centuries attracted the admiration of beholders. It was a large double house with the addition of a wing. From the spacious hall, turning to the left, you entered the large dining-saloon. The two front windows gave you a view of the beautiful bay. The two rear windows opened upon a pleasant rural landscape. In this dining-room a large dinner party was held, in honor of Andre the day before he set out upon his fatal excursion to West Point. In Sargent's, "Life of Andre," we find a very interesting description of this mansion, and of the scenes witnessed there in olden time.

"Where now in New York is the unalluring and crowded neighborhood of Second avenue and Thirty-fifth street, stood, in 1780, the ancient Bowerie or country seat of Jacobus Kip. Built in 1655, of bricks brought from Holland, encompassed by pleasant trees and in easy view of the sparkling waters of Kip's Bay, on the East river, the mansion remained, even to our own times, in the possession of one of its founder's line.

"When Washington was in the neighborhood, Kip's house had been his quarters. When Howe crossed from Long Island on Sunday, September 15th, 1776, he debarked at the rocky point hard by, and his skirmishers drove our people from their position behind the dwelling. Since then it had known many guests. Howe, Clinton, Kniphausen, Percy were sheltered by its roof. The aged owner, with his wife and daughter, remained. But they had always an officer of distinction quartered with them. And if a part of the family were in arms for Congress, as is alleged, it is certain that others were active for the Crown.

"Samuel Kip, of Kipsburg, led a cavalry troop of his own tenantry, with great gallantry, in De Lancey's regiment. And despite severe wounds, survived long after the war, a heavy pecuniary sufferer by the cause which, with most of the landed gentry of New York, he had espoused.

"In 1780, it was held by Colonel Williams, of the 80th royal regiment. And here, on the evening of the 19th of September, he gave a dinner to Sir Henry Clinton and his staff, as a parting compliment to Andre. The aged owner of the house was present; and when the Revolution was over he described the scene and the incidents of that dinner. At the table Sir Henry Clinton announced the departure of Andre next morning, on a secret and most important expedition, and added, 'Plain John Andre will come back Sir John Andre.'

"How brilliant soever the company," Mr. Sargent adds,

"how cheerful the repast, its memory must ever have been fraught with sadness to both host and guests. It was the last occasion of Andre's meeting his comrades in life. Four short days gone, the hands, then clasped by friendship, were fettered by hostile bonds. Yet nine days more and the darling of the army, the youthful hero of the hour, had dangled from a gibbet."

For two hundred and twelve years this mansion of venerable memories remained. Then it was swept away by the resistless tide of an advancing population. The thronged pavements of Thirty-fifth street now pass over the spot, where two centuries ago the most illustrious men crowded the banqueting hall, and where youth and beauty met in the dance and song. In view of these ravages of time, well may we exclaim in the impressive words of Burke, "What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue."

In the year 1774, John Adams rode from Boston to Philadelphia on horseback, to attend the first meeting of Congress. His journal contains an interesting account of this long and fatiguing tour. Coming from the puritanic simplicity of Boston, he was evidently deeply impressed with the style and splendor which met his eye in New York. In glowing terms he alludes to the elegance of their mode of living, to the architectural grandeur of their country seats; to the splendor of Broadway, and to the magnificent new church they were building, which was to cost one hundred thousand dollars.

The aristocratic families of New York were generally in favor of the Crown. They were not disposed to pay any special attention to a delegate to the democratic Congress. He had therefore no opportunity of witnessing the splendor of these ancient families. Two lawyers who had become wealthy by their professional labors, received him with honor. At their breakfast tables he beheld display, common enough in almost every genteel household at the present day, but to which he was quite unaccustomed in his frugal home at Quincy. One cannot but be amused in reading the following description of one of his entertainments:

"A more elegant breakfast I never saw; rich plate; a very large silver coffee pot; a very large silver tea pot; napkins of the very finest materials; toast and bread and butter in great perfection. After breakfast a plate of beautiful peaches, another of pears and a muskmelon were placed on the table."

The Revolution proved the utter ruin of these great landed proprietors, who naturally espoused the cause of the British court. The habits of life to which they and their fathers had been accustomed necessarily rendered all the levelling doctrines of the Revolution offensive to them. They rallied around the royal banners and went down with them.

Some few of the landed proprietors espoused the cause of the people. Among others may be mentioned the Livingstons and the Schuylers, the Jays, the Laurences, and a portion of the Van Courtlands, and of the Morris family. Fortunately for the Patroon Van Rensselaer, he was a minor, and thus escaped the peril of attaching himself to either party.

Negro slavery in a mild form prevailed in these early years in New York. The cruel and accursed system had been early introduced into the colony. Most of the slaves were domestic servants, very few being employed in the fields. They were treated with personal kindness. Still they were bondmen, deprived of liberty, of fair wages, and of any chance of rising in the world. Such men cannot, by any possibility, be contented with their lot. Mr. William L. Stone, in his very interesting History of New York, writes:

"As far back as 1628, slaves constituted a portion of the population of New Amsterdam; and to such an extent had the traffic in them reached that, in 1709, a slave market was erected at the foot of Wall street, where all negroes who were to be hired or sold, stood in readiness for bidders. Their introduction into the colony was hastened by the colonial establishment of the Dutch in Brazil and upon the coast of Guinea, and also by the capture of Spanish and Portuguese prizes with Africans on board.