LIFE AT JOHNSON HALL.
THE last ten years of Johnson’s life were among the busiest of his
career. War matters occupied but a portion of his time. His greater
works were those of peace, his chief idea being the development in
civilization of the region watered by the Mohawk and its tributaries.
The story of his life now concerns itself with the location of settlers;
the education of the Indians; the building of schools, churches, and
colleges; the improvement of land and live-stock; the promotion of
agriculture, and of the arts and comforts of life. In a word, none more
than he carried out the command to replenish the earth and possess it.
Fortune seemed to have no frowns for this one of the chief Makers of
America. Popular with his neighbours, and appreciated on the other side
of the ocean, his rewards were many. Besides the gift of five thousand
pounds accompanying the title of baronet, the king, in June, 1769, made
over to him the famous “royal grant” of sixty-six thousand acres on the
north side of the river between the East and West Canada creeks, the
present town of Little Falls being in the southern centre. This large
piece of territory had been given him by the Mohawks in 1760, as a token
of their gratitude and appreciation, Johnson making return for the gift
in a sum amounting to over twelve thousand dollars. As no private person
could, under the proclamation of 1763, obtain in any way so large a
tract of land, the possession was made sure by being given under the
royal seal and approbation as a token of his services.
It was, however, as early as 1763 that Johnson chose the site on which
to found the village of Johnstown, and to erect Johnson Hall,—as a
letter dated May 8, 1763, to Mr. Samuel Fuller, of Schenectady, the
architect and builder, shows. Like his former house on the Mohawk, this
edifice, so famed in romance and history, still stands, though outwardly
somewhat altered in appearance by the addition of modern roofs,
bay-windows, portico, and verandas. Only one of the two square towers or
houses which flanked the main edifice still remains.
The writer visited the Hall in July, 1890, being pleasantly received by
the present owner and occupant, Mrs. John E. Wells, and allowed to see
the spacious rooms which, upstairs and down, flanked the superb, wide
hall-ways which extend from front to rear doors. The missing block-house
was burned by accident in May, 1866. Between the cellar of the mansion
and those of the block-houses an underground passage formerly existed,
in which my informant often played, until within a few years ago. A
circle of Lombardy poplars planted round the Hall, once formed a
striking feature of the landscape,—for these prim sentinels made a
strange cordon to the Indians and those accustomed only to the American
forest trees. Only four survivors on the east front of the house
remain,—the small arc of a grand circle. Of an old walnut-tree planted
by Johnson himself, and lovingly preserved as an historical relic, only
the vine-covered and flower-adorned trunk was left, in which a squirrel
was nimbly enjoying itself. The Hall faces the east, the ground sloping
to the left. The mansion has been in the possession and occupancy of the
Wells family for over a century.
Passing to the village, a half-mile to the east, I visited the church
built by Johnson. Its walls are of the famous graywacke stone which
underlies the Mohawk Valley, and which is so widely utilized in
edifices. A fire in 1836 that emptied the building of nearly everything,
and left only the walls, was the occasion for rebuilding. When this was
done, in 1838, the site was so changed that the grave of Johnson under
the altar was left outside the new building, and the exact site of it
lost to memory. For several years it may be said that the very spot
where lay the dust of this Maker of America was forgotten. In 1862 the
rector, Rev. Charles H. Kellogg, took measurements, sunk a shaft, and
discovered the brick vault. Only a few fragments of the mahogany coffin
remained,—the leaden coffin enclosing it having been cut up during the
Revolutionary War for making bullets. The skull and a few bones left,
together filled but a quarter of a bushel. It is not stated whether the
bullet which remained in the wound in Johnson’s body when he died was
found; but the dated gold ring was, and is carefully kept. The relics of
once animated earth were enclosed in a hollowed granite block, and
re-deposited with solemn ceremonies by Bishop Horatio Potter, a few feet
east of the church, in a space of the churchyard which has no other
tombs in it. The unmarked mound, eight feet square and six inches high,
barely discoverable by a passerby, had no other decoration than the thin
grass which manages to live between the shade of two buildings. The
action of St. Patrick’s Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons which Johnson
founded—his son being the last Provincial Grand Master of the upper
district of the Province of New York—is still awaited. Either the
Masons, or others who honour Johnson’s memory, should set up a worthy
memorial of the great man who has stamped his name so ineffaceably on
the history of America.
In the neat village itself are many things to remind one of its founder.
The chief hotel is named after the baronet. A number of autograph
letters and relics are in possession of private persons. Documents in
the handwriting of Johnson are in the Masonic Lodge which he founded in
the parlour of Johnson Hall in 1772. The gold ring found in 1836 with
his dust, and inscribed with the date of an important event, and
possibly with the age of his bride, is here. Nor far away, the cradle of
black walnut in which Mollie Brant rocked her children is preserved as a
relic. In an old innkeeper’s book the first entry is that of the great
man’s name, who ordered the first glass of grog. Besides the evidences
of ordinary human life and infirmity, one cannot go very far in the
Mohawk Valley, or in those of the lowlands which hold the tributaries to
the river flowing through it, or in the collateral ones on higher
levels, but the fruits of a rich and busy life abound.
Johnson, though belonging to the Church of England, was willing to help
men who were of the Churches of Holland or of Germany. He assisted all
Christians to have houses of worship,—at Fort Hunter, Canajoharie,
Burnet’s Field, especially; but in other towns and villages tokens of
his presence are to be seen. He helped financially the Lutheran and
Reformed Germans, and the Dutch congregations, and provided the Indians
with missionaries and churches. With Domine Samuel Kirkland, who
laboured among the Iroquois for over forty years, and was the founder of
the town of Kirkland and of Hamilton College, Johnson was on friendly
and sympathetic terms. He greatly honoured the young man’s character,
and appreciated his labours; and the two frequently corresponded. During
one winter while secluded in Cherry Valley, Kirkland was saved from
starvation by the Indians, who gathered ginseng, for which they bought
provisions in Albany. The root having been just discovered on this
continent by a French Jesuit in Vermont, early in the century, already
formed one of the staples of American commerce with China.
While it is absurd to say that Johnson first “discovered” the fertility
of the Mohawk Valley, it is unquestionably true that he greatly
stimulated advance in agriculture. Under his encouragement many of the
Mohawk Indians became happy and prosperous farmers. When the officers
and men under the leadership of Sullivan, the New Hampshire general of
Irish descent, invaded the country of the Six Nations in 1778, they were
amazed at the evidences of Indian thrift, and at the wide areas of
richly cultivated land.
These being the piping times of peace, Johnson built a handsome
summer-house at Broadalbin, in Fulton County, where he entertained
lavishly. Having a healthy interest equal to that of the Englishman in
out-door sports, he also erected on the south bank of the Sacandaga
Creek a lodge, which has given the place the name it still holds,—the
Fish House. The building, which was of wood painted white, with the
doors and mouldings painted green, was comfortably furnished. It was
frequently occupied in summer, often with gay company from New York or
Albany. An orchard, vegetable-garden, well of spring water, sheds for
horses and cattle, with poultry and stock, enabled the lord of Johnson
Hall, with the assistance of his favourite negro slaves from the Manor,
to dispense lavish hospitality to his friends from Albany, Schenectady,
the Valley settlements, or even from Manhattan Island. Coming himself on
such occasions, in his later years, in a coach and six, it was no
infrequent sight to see the like equipages numerous in the grounds of
the Fish House. For days together, gayety and bustle filled the grounds,
while pleasure-parties of both sexes in the boats tempted to their hooks
the finny spoil. Excellent gunning was also provided in autumn for the
gentlemen in the sunken lands and low-lying coves along the Sacandaga,
wild ducks and geese being the chief game. Oftener, however, instead of
visiting Europeans or fashionable society nearer home, the baronet would
be accompanied by his cultured Irish friend and family physician, Dr.
Patrick Daly, and by his favourite musician, Billy. Nor is it likely
that tradition wrongs him in frequently furnishing him with other
room-mates, since chastity was not the shining virtue of Sir William
Johnson.
Simms, the gossipy annalist of Schoharie, who seemed incapable of
writing history or holding himself to a narrative without meandering off
into theology, politics, or preaching, has much to say about Sir William
Johnson. Though gathering a valuable harvest, his sheaves need to be
well threshed out before using. He has set down in sober print much
tittle-tattle which New England historians, as usual when writing about
New York, have only too freely copied.
We see that the household at the Hall and in the quarters was almost as
cosmopolitan as New York itself. Simms tells us that Johnson’s
bouw-master, or head farmer, was an Irishman named Flood. He looked
after the ten or fifteen negro slaves who lived with their families in
cabins on the other side of the Cayudutta Creek, opposite the Hall. They
dressed much like Indians, but wore coats. His private secretary, after
Wraxall, Croghan, and others, was a Mr. Lafferty,—a good lawyer withal,
who attended also to Johnson’s legal business. The family physician,
named Daly, was a companionable and cultivated gentleman. Billy, a dwarf
about thirty years of age, was a master of the violin, and the presiding
genius of the numerous balls given in the Hall when “persons of quality”
were guests, or at the village when the tenantry or other citizens had
their merry-makings. The gardener kept the grounds “as neat as a pin,”
and from May to November smiling with flowers. The butler, Frank, was an
active young German; and the chief body-guard was Pontiac, a sprightly,
well-disposed lad of part Indian blood. He was named after the great
conspirator, and was often with Johnson when away from home. Two of the
waiters,—probably brothers,—named Bartholomew, were short, thick-set
white men. Across the road from the Hall were the blacksmith and the
tailor, who did little work outside of the “royal” or “patroon’s”
household. The numerous progeny and employees of Johnson furnished them
with almost constant occupation. One of the most important characters
was the schoolmaster, Wall, an Irishman with a rich brogue. His
specialty was the teaching of manners and rudiments of English to the
children of the tenantry and Johnson’s half-breed bastards. It may be
well imagined that the training given by Wall was rather to fit his
pupils for proper subordination than to be self-reliant patriots. In
front of the schoolhouse stood the whipping-post and the stocks, for
which truant boys, drunken louts, wife-beaters, and other transgressors,
actual and potential, were supposed to have due respect.
Holidays and out-door merry-makings were frequent. The many-sided lord
of the manor seemed most in his natural element when providing or
participating in the athletic sports, Irish games and frolics with which
he amused Indians and whites, old and young. Himself ever jovial and
fond of fun, he entered into the performances with an enthusiasm that
was magnetic. The greasy pole with a coin or other prize on the top was
set up for the nude Indian children to attempt to climb. The pig with
its tail likewise anointed was set free to be caught by him or her who
could. Tradition tells how, in one case, an old Indian squaw beat every
one in the race, and finally, having caught up a handful of sand, had
literally the grit to hold on and win the race. Sack, hurdle, and
three-legged races were also favourite amusements.
Besides all this out-door activity and healthy occupation, there was
plenty of amusement indoors. The numerous guests who came from all
quarters and at all times made Johnson Hall more like a grand hotel than
the private house of a gentleman. From April, after the ice in the
Mohawk had burst, as it often did, with a sound like cannon, and floated
out to the Hudson and to the sea, and the spring floods were over, until
the autumnal splendours of crimson and gold filled the Valley, the house
rarely lacked guests. Indian chiefs and warriors came at all times; but
in summer the paint and feathers of forest fashions were replaced by
those from beyond sea. The rouge, powder, patches, wigs, perukes, silken
gowns and stockings, silver-buckled shoes, and ruffled cuffs and
shirt-fronts from London, or patterned after Piccadilly prints, filled
the Hall with brilliant colour. With musical instruments, a well-filled
library, and the last new novel on the drawing-room table, the guests
could easily amuse themselves on a rainy day; while in fair weather
saunterings over the grounds of their host, or drives or rides in the
beautiful country around, made the daylight hours fly pleasantly. Then,
in full dress for the evening dinner, the night soon passed in feasting,
drinking, and exchanging news, with chat, gossip, and smoke; and more
than one of the hours of morning arrived before the concourse broke up.
Such a course of life was kept up for years, until the hospitality of
Johnson Hall became a proverb, and its revelry, we must add, passed into
a byword. Despite his constant out-door life and otherwise good habits,
it is more than probable that such luxurious living long persisted in
explains why the baronet never saw his sixtieth year.
In practical farming and in horticulture Johnson took great delight, and
in his intervals of leisure did much, both by personal example and by
neighbourly conference with the farmers, to improve crops and
live-stock. He was a regular correspondent of the Society for the
Promotion of Arts in England, and of the American Philosophical Society
in Philadelphia. Agriculture was one of the themes most often discussed
in his letters. He sent frequently to London for choice varieties of
seeds, and delighted to see how they fared in our climate and soil. Of
horses and other fine stock he was very fond, and to him is due the
credit of the introduction of sheep and blooded stallions. He also
credits himself with first raising hay, and thus stimulating the
development of improved breeds of cattle. While thus on his table lay
the last reviews and best periodical literature of London; while in his
library the European scholars, professors from Harvard and Yale, and
English ladies from London drawing-rooms, would all find books to their
taste, the pursuit of science indoors and out was carried on with ardour
by the lord of the manor himself.
In attendance upon the county fair at Fonda during the summer of 1890,
the writer was struck with the variety and excellence of the live-stock,
as well as with the richness of the agricultural products of Montgomery
County. This county, with Saratoga and others adjoining, has had marked
influence upon the development of the region westward. Not a few of the
fine specimens of horses and cattle are descendants of the denizens of
the Johnson farm of pre-Revolutionary days. Certainly Johnson was one of
the benefactors of the race, who made many blades of grass grow where
none grew before. Not the least of his good offices was in prevailing
upon the British Government to relax the illiberal laws which prevented
the agricultural development of the Mohawk Valley. Much of England’s
troubles with her colonies arose from her determination to keep the
American part of her domain as a close market for exclusively British
products, and thus to compel the Americans to buy only those goods which
were manufactured in England or came from British ports. In thus
attempting to nip in the bud all flowering of the native genius of the
people, she succeeded in hampering, but not wholly repressing, American
manufactures. Johnson, as we have seen, was able to get removed the
restriction against raising wool. Peter Hasenclever, a Palatine German,
who owned land next to Johnson’s royal patent, started an iron foundry,
and though himself failing after long and earnest efforts, unable to
surmount the numberless difficulties, gave a great stimulus to the
development of the iron industry in Northern and Eastern New York.
Philip Schuyler set up a flourishing flax-mill.
Johnson lived to see the fearful results of the determination of the
lucre-loving British lords to force their products upon Americans at all
hazards. He regretted these violations not only of human rights in
general, but of Englishmen’s rights in particular; though not so
outspoken as he might have been. The Americans, while willing to be
customers to the greatest nation of shopkeepers, were resolved not to be
considered as buyers, and victims of monopoly only. Johnson fortunately
died before the covetousness, avarice, and arbitrary thick-headedness of
Great Britain, which had forced the slave-trade, hampered commerce, and
paralyzed foreign commerce and home manufactures, compelled the
colonists to rebuke her pretensions by an appeal to arms.