Produced by Barbara Kosker and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
"EVACUATION DAY,"
1783,
[Illustration: _Sergeant Van Arsdale Tearing Down the British Flag._]
WITH RECOLLECTIONS OF
CAPT. JOHN VAN ARSDALE
OF THE VETERAN CORPS OF ARTILLERY,
BY JAMES RIKER.
50 CENTS.
"EVACUATION DAY,"
1783,
ITS
MANY STIRRING EVENTS:
WITH
RECOLLECTIONS
OF
CAPT. JOHN VAN ARSDALE
OF THE VETERAN CORPS OF ARTILLERY,
BY WHOSE EFFORTS ON THAT DAY
THE ENEMY WERE CIRCUMVENTED,
AND
THE AMERICAN FLAG SUCCESSFULLY RAISED ON THE BATTERY.
WITH ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES.
BY
JAMES RIKER,
Author of the Annals of Newtown, and History of Harlem; Life Member
of the New York Historical Society, Etc.
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR.
NEW YORK
1883.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by
JAMES RIKER,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
CRICHTON & CO.,
PRINTERS,
221-225 Fulton St., N. Y.
EVACUATION DAY.
CHAPTER I.
Our memorable revolution, so prolific of grand and glorious themes,
presents none more thrilling than is afforded by the closing scene in
that stupendous struggle which gave birth to our free and noble
Republic. New York City will have the honor of celebrating, on the 25th
of November, the hundredth anniversary of this event, the most signal in
its history; and which will add the last golden link to the chain of
Revolutionary Centennials. A century ago, on "Evacuation Day," so called
in our local calendar, the wrecks of those proud armies,--sent hither by
the mother country to enforce her darling scheme of "taxation without
representation,"--withdrew from our war-scarred city, with the honors of
_defeat_ thick upon them, but leaving our patriotic fathers happy in the
enjoyment of their independence, so gloriously won in a seven years'
conflict.
With the expiring century has also disappeared the host of brave actors
in that eventful drama! Memory, if responsive, may bring up the
venerable forms of the "Old Seventy Sixers," as they still lingered
among us two score years ago; and perchance recall with what
soul-stirring pathos they oft rehearsed "the times that tried men's
souls." But they have fallen, fallen before the last great enemy, till
not one is left to repeat the story of their campaigns, their
sufferings, or their triumphs. But shall their memories perish, or their
glorious deeds pass into oblivion? Heaven forbid! Rather let us treasure
them in our heart of hearts, and speak their praises to our children;
thus may we keep unimpaired our love of country, and kindle the
patriotism of those who come after us. To-day they shall live again, in
the event we celebrate. And what event can more strongly appeal to the
popular gratitude than that which brought our city a happy deliverance
from a foreign power, gave welcome relief to our patriot sires, who had
fought for their country or suffered exile, and marked the close of a
struggle which conferred the priceless blessings of peace and liberty,
and a government which knows no sovereign but the people only. Our aim
shall be, not so much to impress the reader with the moral grandeur of
that day, or with its historic significance as bearing upon the
subsequent growth and prosperity of our great metropolis; but the rather
to present a popular account of what occurred at or in connection with
the evacuation; and also to satisfy a curiosity often expressed to know
something more of a former citizen, much esteemed in his time, whose
name, from an incident which then took place, is inseparably associated
with the scenes of Evacuation Day.
At the period referred to, a century ago, the City of New York contained
a population of less than twenty thousand souls, who mostly resided
below Wall Street, above which the city was not compactly built; while
northward of the City Hall Park, then known as the Fields, the Commons,
or the Green, were little more than scattered farm houses and rural
seats. The seven years' occupation by the enemy had reduced the town to
a most abject condition; many of the church edifices having been
desecrated and applied to profane uses; the dwellings, which their
owners had vacated on the approach of the enemy, being occupied by the
refugee loyalists, and officers and attaches of the British army, were
despoiled and dilapidated; while a large area of the City, ravaged by
fires, still lay in ruins!
The news of peace with Great Britain, which was officially published at
New York on April 8th, 1783, was hailed with delight by every friend of
his country. But it spread consternation and dismay among the loyalists.
Its effects upon the latter class, and the scenes which ensued, beggar
all description. The receipt of death warrants could hardly have been
more appalling. Some of these who had zealously taken up commissions in
the king's service, amid the excitement of the hour tore the lapels from
their coats and stamped them under foot, crying out that they were
ruined forever! Others, in like despair, uttered doleful complaints,
that after sacrificing their all, to prove their loyalty, they should
now be left to shift for themselves, with nothing to hope for, either
from king or country. In the day of their power these had assumed the
most insolent bearing towards their fellow-citizens who were suspected
of sympathy for their suffering country; while those thrown among them
as prisoners of war, met their studied scorn and abuse, and were usually
accosted, with the more popular than elegant epithet, of "damned rebel!"
The tables were now turned; all this injustice and cruelty stared them
in the face, and, to their excited imaginations, clothed with countless
terrors that coming day, when, their protectors being gone, they could
expect naught but a dreadful retribution! Under such circumstances, Sir
Guy Carleton, the English commander at New York, was in honor bound not
to give up the City till he had provided the means of conveying away to
places within the British possessions, all those who should decide to
quit the country. It was not pure humanity, but shrewd policy as well,
for the king, by his agents, thus to promote the settlement of portions
of his dominions which were cold, barren, uninviting, and but sparsely
populated.
By the cessation of hostilities the barriers to commercial intercourse
between the City and other parts of the State, &c., were removed, and
the navigation of the Hudson, the Sound, and connected waters was
resumed as before the war. Packets brought in the produce of the
country, and left laden with commodities suited to the needs of the
rural population, or with the British gold in their purses; for all the
staples of food, as flour, beef, pork and butter, were in great demand,
to victual the many fleets preparing to sail, freighted with troops, or
with loyalists. The country people in the vicinity also flocked to the
public markets, bringing all kinds of provisions, which they readily
sold at moderate rates for hard cash; and thus the adjacent country was
supplied and enriched with specie. The fall in prices, which during the
war had risen eight hundred per cent, brought a most grateful relief to
the consumers. Simultaneously with these tokens of better days, the
order for the release of all the prisoners of war from the New York
prisons and prisonships, with their actual liberation from their gloomy
cells, came as a touching reminder that the horrors of war were at an
end.
Many of the old citizens who had fled, on or prior to the invasion of
the City by the British, and had purchased homes in the country, now
prepared to return, by selling or disposing of these places, expecting
upon reaching New York to re-occupy their old dwellings, without let or
hindrance, but on arriving here were utterly astonished at being
debarred their own houses; the commandant, General Birch, holding the
keys of all dwellings vacated by persons leaving, and only suffering the
owners to enter their premises as tenants, and upon their paying him
down a quarter's rent in advance! Such apparent injustice determined
many not to come before the time set for the evacuation of the City,
while many others were kept back through fear of the loyalists, whose
rage and vindictiveness were justly to be dreaded. Hence, though our
people were allowed free ingress and egress to and from the City, upon
their obtaining a British pass for that purpose, yet but few,
comparatively, ventured to bring their families or remain permanently
till they could make their entry with, or under the protection of, the
American forces.
Never perhaps in the history of our City had there been a corresponding
period of such incessant activity and feverish excitement. Stimulated by
their fears, the loyalist families began arrangements in early spring
for their departure from the land of their birth (indeed a company of
six hundred, including women and children, had already gone the
preceding fall) destined mainly for Port Roseway, in Nova Scotia, where
they ultimately formed their principal settlement, and built the large
town of Shelburne. Those intending to remove were required to enter
their name, the number in their family, &c., at the Adjutant-General's
Office, that due provision might be made for their passage. They flocked
into the City in such numbers from within the British lines (and many
from within our lines also) that often during that season there were not
houses enough to shelter them. Many occupied huts made by stretching
canvass from the ruined walls of the burnt districts. They banded
together for removing, and had their respective headquarters, where they
met to discuss and arrange their plans. The first considerable company,
some five thousand, sailed on April 27th, and larger companies soon
followed. Many held back, hoping for some act of grace on the part of
our Legislature which would allow them to stay. But the public sentiment
being opposed to it, and expressed in terms too strong to be
disregarded, these at last had to yield to necessity, and find new
homes. The mass of the loyalists went to Nova Scotia and Canada; others
to the Island of Abaco, in the Bahamas; while not a few of the more
distinguished or wealthy retired to England. The bitterness felt towards
this class was to be deplored, but, in truth, the active part taken by
many of them during the war against their country, and above all the
untold outrages committed upon defenceless inhabitants by tories (the
zealous and active loyalists), often in league with Indians, had kindled
a resentment towards all loyalists alike that stifled every
philanthrophic feeling. This exodus was going on when General Carleton,
about the beginning of August, received his final orders for the
evacuation of the City; but it took nearly four months more to complete
it, as a large number of vessels were required to transport the immense
crowds of refugees who left with their families and effects during that
brief period. Hundreds of slaves (ours being then a slave State) were
also induced to go to _Novy Koshee_, as they called it. Their masters
could do little to hinder it, though a committee appointed by both
governments to superintend all embarkations did something towards
preventing slaves and other property belonging to our people from being
carried away. Such negroes as had been found in a state of freedom,
General Carleton held, had a right to leave if they chose to do so, and
many probably got away under this pretext; but to provide against
mistakes the name of each negro (with that of his former owner) was
registered, and also such facts as would fix his value, in case
compensation were allowed. In this, as in the whole ordering of the
evacuation, which was more than the work of a day, General Carleton must
have credit for humanity and a disposition to pursue a fair and
honorable course, which, under the extraordinary difficulties of the
situation, required rare tact and discretion. Of course he was blamed
for much when he was not responsible (natural enough in those who
suffered grievances), and especially for the great delay in giving up
the City, which bore hard on virtuous citizens who had sacrificed
opulence and ease at the shrine of liberty, and had now thrown
themselves out of homes and business in the expectation of an early
return to the City. Yet Carleton's fidelity to the various trusts
committed to him, making one delay after another unavoidable, it may be
doubted whether he could have surrendered the City at an earlier date.
Closing up the affairs of the army was truly a Herculean task. The
shipment of the troops began early in the season. A portion of the army
was disbanded to reduce it to a peace establishment pursuant to orders
from England. Then there was the settlement of innumerable accounts,
pertaining to every department, and the sale and disposal of surplus
army property, as horses, wagons, harness and military stores, with
several thousand cords of fire wood, which was sold off at half its
cost. Even the prisonships were set up at auction. A sale of draft
horses was begun, October 2d, at the Artillery Stables near St. Paul's
church.
Auctions on private account were rife; daily, in every street, the red
flag was seen hanging out. And it was alleged that a great deal of
furniture was sold to which the venders had no good title; much of it
being newly painted or otherwise disguised, that its proper owner might
never know and reclaim it! We need not doubt it, for it seemed as if the
refugees would strip the City of every portable article, even to the
buildings, or the brick and lumber composing them; insomuch that the
authorities, in formal orders, forbade the removal or demolition of any
house till the right to do so was shown.
These irregularities, with the brag and bluster of the enraged tories,
was enough to keep society in a broil. The uppermost themes were the
evacuation, and the removal to Nova Scotia, or elsewhere. They were
irritating topics, and gave rise to endless and hot discussions, in
which tory vexed tory. While one maintained that Nova Scotia was a very
Paradise, another denounced it as unfit for human beings to inhabit.
Disappointed and chagrined at the issue of the war, they would curse the
powers to whom they owed allegiance; as rebellious as those they called
rebels. In other cases, the turn the war had taken had a magic effect
upon their principles; once avowed loyalists, they suddenly became
zealous patriots! It was a witty reply given by a tailor,--the tailor,
in the olden time, we must premise, was often applied to, to rip up and
turn a coat, when threadbare or faded. "How does business go on?" asked
a friend. "Not very well," said he, "my customers have all learned to
turn their own coats!" The shrewd whigs were not to be deceived by
these sudden conversions. They drew the line nicely at a meeting held on
Nov. 18th, at Cape's Tavern, in Broadway, (site of the Boreel Building),
to arrange plans for evacuation day. Before touching their business,
they "_Resolved._ That every person, whatever his political character
may be, who hath remained in this City during the late contest, be
requested to leave the room forthwith."
Society could not be very secure, when, as is stated, scarcely a night
passed without a robbery; scarcely a morning came, but corpses were
found upon the streets, the work of the assassin or midnight revel.
Indeed at this juncture, there was much underlying apprehension in the
minds of good citizens; the situation was unprecedented, men's passions
had been wrought up to a fearful pitch, and who could foresee the
outcome! Sensible of the danger, and with the approval of the
commandant, a large number of citizens lately returned from exile,
organized as a guard and patrolled the streets, on the night preceding
evacuation day. The vigilance of these returned patriots, and the
protection it afforded, added greatly to the public security at this
threatening crisis.
A word as to the aspect of the City; sanitary rules being suspended, the
public streets were in a most filthy condition. All the churches, except
the Episcopal, the Methodist, and the Lutheran (spared to please the
Hessians), had been converted into hospitals, prisons, barracks,
riding-schools, or storehouses; the pews, and in some the galleries,
torn out, the window-lights broken, and all foul and loathsome. Fences
enclosing the churches and cemeteries had disappeared, and the very
graves and tombs lay hidden by rubbish and filth! No public moneyed or
charitable institutions, no insurance offices existed; trade was at the
lowest ebb, education wholly neglected, the schools and college shut up!
But the long-wished-for event, which was to light up this dark picture,
and work a happy transformation, was at hand.
Finally, the day fixed upon for the evacuation, and for the triumphal
entry of Washington and the American army, to take possession of the
city, was Tuesday, the 25th of November. At an early hour, on that cold,
but radiant morning, the whole population seemed to be abroad, making
ready for the great gala day, regardless of a keen nor'wester. During
the forenoon many delegations from the suburban districts began to
arrive, to share in the public festivities, or to witness the exit of
the foreign troops, and the entrance of the victorious Americans; while
with the latter was expected a host of patriots, to re-occupy their
desolate dwellings, from which they had been so long cruelly exiled; or
otherwise, only to gaze upon the charred and blackened ruins of what
was once their homes![1]
To guard against any disturbance which such an occasion might favor, in
the interval between the laying down and the resumption of authority,
and as rumors were afloat of an organized plot to plunder the town when
the King's forces were withdrawn; the hour of noon had been set for the
Royal troops to move, and by an understanding between the two
commanders-in-chief, the Americans were to promptly advance and occupy
the positions as the British vacated them; the latter, when ready to
move, to send out an officer to notify our advance guard. There was no
longer any antagonism between these, so recently hostile, forces; the
plans for the _evacuation_, on the one part, and the _occupation_, on
the other, being carried out in as orderly a manner, and to all
appearance, with as friendly a spirit, as when, in time of peace, one
guard relieves another at a military post.
Major Gen. Knox, a large, fine looking officer, had been appointed to
command the American troops which were first to enter and occupy the
city. With his forces, consisting of a corps of dragoons, under Capt.
John Stakes, another of artillery, and several battalions of infantry,
with a rear guard under Major John Burnet, Knox marched from McGown's
Pass, Harlem, early in the morning, halting at the present junction of
the Bowery and Third Avenue. Here he waited--meanwhile holding a
friendly parley with the English officers, whose forces were also
resting a little in advance of him--until about one o'clock in the
afternoon. The British then receiving orders to move, took up their
march, passed down the Bowery and Chatham street, and wheeling into
Pearl, finally turned off to the river, and went on shipboard. The
American forces under Gen. Knox, following on, proceeded through Chatham
street, into and down Broadway, and took possession. As they advanced,
greeted with happy faces and joyful acclamations by crowds of freemen
who lined the streets, or fairer forms drawn to the windows and
balconies by the beat of the American drums and the vociferous cheering,
the march down Broadway to Cape's Tavern (on the site now of the Boreel
Building), was indeed the triumphal march of conquerors!
Our troops having halted and taken their position opposite and below
Cape's Tavern,[2] Gen. Knox quitted them, and heading a body of mounted
citizens, lately returned from exile, and who had met by arrangement at
the Bowling Green, each wearing in his hat a sprig of laurel, and on the
left breast a Union cockade, made of black and white ribbon, rode up
into the Bowery to receive their Excellencies General Washington and
Governor George Clinton, who were at the Bull's Head Tavern (site of the
Thalia Theatre), they having arrived at Day's Tavern, Harlem, on the
21st inst., the very day on which Carleton had drawn in his forces and
abandoned the posts from Kingsbridge to McGown's Pass, inclusive.
At the Bull's Head, where the widow Varien presided as hostess,
congratulations passed freely, and a series of hearty demonstrations
began, on the part of the overjoyed populace, which continued along the
whole line of Washington's march, and closed only with the day. The
civic procession having formed began its grand entry in the following
order:
General Washington, "straight as a dart and noble as he could be,"
riding a spirited gray horse, and Governor Clinton, on a splendid bay,
with their respective suites also mounted; and having as escort a body
of Westchester Light Horse, under the command of Capt. Delavan.
The Lieutenant Governor, Pierre Van Cortlandt, with the members of the
Council for the temporary Government of the Southern District of New
York; four abreast.
Major Gen. Knox, and the officers of the army; eight abreast.
Citizens on horseback; eight abreast.
The Speaker of the Assembly, and citizens on foot; eight abreast.
[Illustration: MAP
Showing Washington's line of march from Bull's Head (Bowery), to Cape's
Tavern, in Broadway; and thence to Fort George.]
Near the Tea-water Pump, (in Chatham street just above Pearl), where the
citizens on foot had gathered to join the procession, Washington halted
the column, while Gen. Knox and the officers of the Revolution drew out
and, forming into line, marched down Chatham street, passing a body of
the British troops which were still halting in the fields (now the City
Hall Park); while Washington and the rest, turning down Pearl street,
proceeded on to Wall street, and up Wall, then the seat of fashionable
residences, to Broadway, where both companies again met, and while our
troops in line fired a _feu-de-joie_, alighted at the popular tavern
before mentioned, kept by John Cape, where now stands the Boreel
Building.[3]
We must mention here, that when Gen. Knox reached the New Jail, then
known as the Provost (and now the Hall of Records), Capt. Cunningham,
the Provost Marshall, and his deputy and jailor Sergeant Keefe, both
having held those positions during most of the war, and equally
notorious for their brutal treatment of the American prisoners who were
confined there, thought it about time to retreat; and quitting the jail,
followed by the hangman in his yellow jacket, passed between a platoon
of British soldiers and marched down Broadway, with the last detachment
of their troops. When Sergeant Keefe was in the act of leaving the
Provost, (says John Pintard), one of the few prisoners then in his
custody for criminal offences, called out: "Sergeant, what is to become
of us?" "You may all go to the devil together," was his surly reply, as
he threw the bunch of keys on the floor behind him. "Thank you,
Sergeant," was the cutting retort, "we have had too much of your company
in _this_ world, to wish to follow you to the _next_!" Another incident,
which respected Cunningham, was witnessed (says Dr. Lossing), by the
late Dr. Alexander Anderson. It was during the forenoon, that a tavern
keeper in Murray street hung out the Stars and Stripes. Informed of it,
thither hastened Cunningham, who with an oath, and in his imperious
tone, exclaimed, "Take in that flag, the City is ours till noon."
Suiting the action to the word, he tried to pull down the obnoxious
ensign; but the landlady coming to the rescue, with broom in hand, dealt
the Captain such lusty blows, as made the powder fly in clouds from his
wig, and forced him to beat a retreat! The Provost Guard, and the Main
Guard at the City Hall (Wall street, opposite Broad, where the U. S.
Treasury stands), were the last to abandon their posts, and repair on
shipboard.
The brief reception being over, at Cape's Tavern, (with presenting of
addresses to Gen. Washington and Gov. Clinton), the cavalcade again
formed, and marched to the Battery, to enact the last formality in
re-possessing the City, which was to unfurl the American flag over Fort
George.[5] A great concourse of people had assembled, not only to
witness this ceremony, but to obtain a sight of the illustrious
Washington and other great generals, who had so nobly defended our
liberties.
But now a sight was presented, which, as soon as fully understood, drew
forth from the astonished and incensed beholders execrations loud and
deep. The royal ensign was still floating as usual over Fort George;
the enemy having departed without striking their colors, though they had
dismantled the fort and removed on shipboard all their stores and heavy
ordnance, while other cannon lay dismounted under the walls as if thrown
off in a spirit of wantonness. On a closer view it was found that the
flag had been nailed to the staff, the halyards taken away, and the pole
itself besmeared with grease; obviously to prevent or hinder the removal
of the emblem of royalty, and the raising of the Stars and Stripes.
Whether to escape the mortification of seeing our flag supplant the
British standard, or to annoy and exasperate our people were the
stronger impulse, it were hard to say. It was too serious for a joke,
however, and the dilemma caused no little confusion. The artillery had
taken a position on the Battery, the guns were unlimbered, and the
gunners stood ready to salute our colors. But the grease baffled all
attempts to shin up the staff. To cut the staff down and erect another
would consume too much time. Impatient of delay, "three or four guns
were fired with the colors on a pole before they were raised on the
flagstaff."[6] But this expedient was premature and humiliating, while
the hostile flag yet waved as if in defiance. The scene grew exciting:
and now appeared another actor, hitherto looking on, but no idle
observer of what was passing. He was a young man of medium height, whose
ruddy honest face, tarpaulin cap and pea-jacket told his vocation. Born
neither to fortune nor to fame, yet by his own merits and exertions he
had won the regard of some in that assembly, having served under
McClaughry, and Willett, and Weissenfels, as also the Clintons, to whom
he had lived neighbor, within that patriotic circle in old Orange, where
these were the guiding spirits, and every yeoman with them, shoulder to
shoulder, in the common cause. As a subaltern officer he had made a good
record during the war, and none present, however superior in station,
had sustained a better character or exhibited a purer patriotism. This
was John Van Arsdale, late a Sergeant in Capt. Hardenburgh's company of
New York Levies. At nineteen years of age, quitting his father's vessel,
where he had been bred a sailor, he enlisted in the Continental Army at
the beginning of the war, and had served faithfully till its close.
Suffering cold and hardship in the Canada expedition, wounded and taken
prisoner at the battle of Fort Montgomery, he had languished weary
months in New York dungeons, and in the foul hold of a British
prisonship, and subsequently braved the perils of Indian warfare in
several campaigns. And with such a record, where expect to find him but
among his old compatriots, on this day of momentous import, when the
struggles of seven years were to culminate in a final triumph.
Van Arsdale volunteered to climb the staff, though with little prospect
of succeeding better than others, especially when after making an
attempt, sailor fashion, he was unable to maintain his grasp upon the
slippery pole. Now it was proposed to replace the cleats which had been
knocked off; and persons ran in haste to Peter Goelet's hardware store,
in Hanover Square, and returned with a saw, hatchet, gimlets, and nails.
Then willing hands sawed pieces of board, split and bored cleats, and
began to nail them on. By this means Van Arsdale got up a short
distance, with a line to which our flag was attached; but just then, a
ladder being brought to his assistance, he mounted still higher, then
completed the ascent in the usual way, and reaching the top of the
staff, tore down the British standard, and rove the new halyards by
which the Star-spangled Banner was quickly run up by Lieut. Anthony
Glean, and floated proudly, while the multitude gave vent to their joy
in hearty cheers, and the artillery boomed forth a national salute of
thirteen guns![7] On descending, Van Arsdale was warmly greeted by the
overjoyed spectators, for the service he had rendered; but some one
proposing a more substantial acknowledgement than mere applause, hats
were passed around, and a considerable sum collected, nearly all within
reach contributing, even to the Commander-in-Chief. Though taken quite
aback, Van Arsdale modestly accepted the gift, with a protest at being
rewarded for so trivial an act. But the contributors were of another
opinion; he had accomplished what was thought impracticable, and the
occasion and the emergency made his success peculiarly gratifying to all
present. On returning home to his amiable Polly (they had been married
short of six months), the story of "Evacuation Day," and the silver
money which he poured into her lap, caused her to open her eyes, and
fixed the circumstance indelibly in her memory!
But to return: during the scene on the Battery, which consumed full an
hour, the last squads of the British were getting into their boats,
while many others, filled with soldiers, rested on their oars between
the shore and their ships, anchored in the North River. They kept
silence during this time, and watched our efforts to hoist the colors
(no doubt enjoying our embarrassment), but when our flag was run up and
the salute fired, they rowed off to their shipping, which soon weighed
anchor and proceeded down the bay.[8]
This scene over, the Commander-in-Chief and the general officers,
accompanied Gov. Clinton to Fraunces' Tavern, also a popular resort, and
which still stands on the corner of Pearl and Broad streets. Here the
Governor gave a sumptuous dinner. The repast over, then came "the feast
of reason and the flow of soul," when the sentiments dearest to those
brave and loyal men found utterance in the following admirable toasts:
1. The United States of America.
2. His most Christian Majesty.
3. The United Netherlands.
4. The King of Sweden.
5. The American Army.
6. The Fleet and Armies of France, which have served in America.
7. The Memory of those Heroes who have fallen for our Freedom.
8. May our Country be grateful to her Military Children.
9. May Justice support what Courage has gained.
10. The Vindicators of the Rights of Mankind in every Quarter of the
Globe.
11. May America be an Asylum to the Persecuted of the Earth.
12. May a close Union of the States guard the Temple they have erected
to Liberty.
13. May the Remembrance of THIS DAY, be a Lesson to Princes.
An extensive illumination of the buildings in the evening, a grand
display of rockets, and the blaze of bonfires at every corner, made a
fitting sequel to the events of the day.[9] Great as was the joy, and
lively as were the demonstrations of it, not the slightest outbreak or
disturbance occurred, to mar the public tranquility; and the happy
citizens retired to rest in the sweet consciousness that the reign of
martial law and of regal despotism had ended! But it was remarked, says
an eye-witness of the time, that an unusual proportion of those who in
'76 had fled from New York, had been cut off by death and denied a share
in the general joy, which marked the return of their fellow citizens to
their former habitations. And those habitations, such as had survived
the fires, how marred and damaged, as before intimated; in many cases
mere shells and wrecks. And the sanctuaries, where they and their
fathers had worshipped, all despoiled, save St. Paul's, St. George's in
Beekman street, the Dutch Church, Garden street, the Lutheran church,
Frankfort street, the Methodist Meeting House in John street, (none
remaining at present but the first and last), and some three or four
small and obscure places. Years elapsed, before, in their poverty, the
people were enabled fully to restore some of them to their former sacred
uses. The churches which suffered most at the enemy's hands were the
Middle and North Dutch churches, in Nassau and William streets, the two
Presbyterian churches, in Wall and Beekman streets, the Scotch
Presbyterian church, in Cedar street, the French church in Pine street,
the Baptist church, Gold street, and the Friends' new Meeting House, in
Pearl street; all since removed to meet the demands of trade. Religious
affairs were found in a sad plight when the evacuation took place. The
Dutch, Presbyterian and Baptist ministers had gone into voluntary exile.
The Rev. Charles Inglis, D.D., Rector of Trinity Parish, having made
himself very obnoxious to the patriots, concluded to follow the
loyalists of his flock to Nova Scotia, and therefore resigned his
rectorship Nov. 1st, preceding the evacuation. Dr. John H. Livingston,
arriving with our people, immediately resumed his services in Garden
street. Other pastors were not so favored. Dr. John Rogers, of the
Presbyterian church, returned on the day after the evacuation, and on
the following Sabbath, Nov. 30th, preached in St. George's chapel, "to a
thronged and deeply affected assembly," a discourse adapted to the
occasion from Psalms cxvi, 12,--"What shall I render unto the Lord, for
all His benefits towards me?" The vestry of Trinity church having kindly
offered the use of their two chapels, St. Paul's and St. George's, the
Presbyterians occupied these buildings a part of every Sabbath until
June 27th, 1784, when they took possession of the Brick Church, Beekman
street, which had been repaired.
On the Friday following the evacuation, the citizens lately returned
from exile, gave an elegant entertainment, at Cape's Tavern, to his
Excellency, the Governor, and the Council for governing the City; when
Gen. Washington and the Officers of the Army, about three hundred
gentlemen, graced the feast. The following Tuesday, Dec. 2d, another
such entertainment was given by Gov. Clinton, at the same place, to the
French Ambassador, Luzerne, and in the evening, at the Bowling Green,
the Definitive Treaty of Peace was celebrated by "an unparallelled
exhibition of fireworks," and when, says an account of it, "the
prodigious concourse of spectators assembled on the occasion, expressed
their plaudits in loud and grateful clangors!" On Thursday, the 4th,
Gen. Washington bade a final adieu to his fellow officers at Fraunces'
Tavern. The scene was most affecting. "With a heart full of love and
gratitude," said he, "I now take leave of you, and most devoutly wish
that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones
have been glorious and honorable." Embracing each one in turn, while
tears coursed down their manly checks, he parted from them, and from the
City, to resign his commission to Congress, and seek again the
retirement of private life.
The following Thursday, Dec. 11th, was observed by appointment of
Congress, "as a day of public Thanksgiving throughout the United
States." On this occasion Dr. Rogers preached in St. George's chapel, a
sermon from Psalms cxxvi, 3,--"The Lord hath done great things for us,
whereof we are glad." It was afterwards published with the title--"The
Divine Goodness displayed in the American Revolution."
Thus just eight score years after Europeans first settled on this Island
of Manhattan, our City had its new birth into freedom, and started on
its unexampled career of prosperity and greatness. And as we contemplate
the growth, enterprise, trade, commerce, credit, opulence and
magnificence of the present City, with its hundreds of churches, schools
and other noble institutions, and contrast it with the contracted,
war-worn, desolate town, of which our fathers took possession on the
25th of November 1783, well may we exclaim--"What hath God wrought?"
That day, whose memories were so fondly cherished by our grandsires
while they lived, was one of great significance in the history of our
City and Country. Its anniversary has ever since been duly celebrated by
military parades, and a national salute fired on the Battery at sunrise,
by the "Independent Veteran Corps of Heavy Artillery," composed at first
of Revolutionary soldiers, and of which John Van Arsdale was long an
efficient and honored member, and, at the time of his decease, its First
Captain-Lieutenant.[10] For many years the day was observed with great
_eclat_; the troops, in parading, "went through the forms practiced on
taking possession of the City, maneuvering and firing _feux-de-joie_,
&c., as occurred on the evacuation." All shops and business places were
closed, artisans and toilers ceased their work, and the streets,
decorated with patriotic emblems, and alive with happy people, were
given up to gaiety and mirth. To civic and military displays were added
sumptuous dinners, and convivial parties, while the schoolboy rejoiced
in a holiday; the whole bearing witness to a peoples' gratitude for the
deliverance which that memorable day brought them. And boys of older
growth may yet recall the simple distich:
"It's Evacuation Day, when the British ran away,
Please, dear Master, give us holiday!"
In the evening every place of amusement was well attended, but none
better than Peale's American Museum, because, as duly advertised:--"The
Flag hoisted by order of Gen. Washington, on the Battery, the same day
the British troops evacuated this city, is displayed in the upper hall,
as a sacred memorial of that day." This flag was presented to the museum
by the Common Council in 1819. It was raised on the Battery for the last
time in 1846, and when the museum was burned the old flag perished!
Well deserves this day not merely a local but a national commemoration;
since it inaugurated for the nation an era of freedom, the blessings of
which all could not realize, while the chief city and seaport of our
country were held by foreign armies.
Another chapter, introducing us to colonial and revolutionary times,
will tell more of Capt. Van Arsdale, what he did and endured for his
country, and ensure him a grateful remembrance so long as "Evacuation
Day" shall cheer us by its annual return.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] THE GREAT FIRE, of September 20, 1776, beginning at Whitehall slip,
swept along the river front and northward, consuming all the buildings
between Whitehall street on the west and Broad street on the east,
extending up Broadway to a point just below Rector street, and up Broad
street as far as Beaver, above which the houses on Broad street escaped;
the fire being confined to a line nearly straight from Beaver, near
Broad, to the point it reached on Broadway. Crossing Broadway, it also
swept everything north of Morris street, including Trinity Church; from
which point passing behind the city (later Cape's) Tavern, it spared the
line of buildings, mainly dwellings, facing Broadway, with a few joining
them on the cross streets, but otherwise made a clean sweep as far up as
Barclay street, where the College grounds stayed its further process.
The fire of August 3, 1778, which was confined to the blocks between Old
slip and Coenties slip, reaching up to Pearl street, was a small affair
in comparison.
[2] The orders of Nov. 24, to our troops read: "The Light Infantry will
furnish a company for Main Guard to-morrow. As soon as the troops are
formed in the city, the Main Guard will be marched off to Fort George;
on their taking possession, an officer of artillery will immediately
hoist the American standard. * * * On the standard being hoisted in Fort
George, the artillery will fire thirteen rounds. Afterwards his
Excellency Governor Clinton will be received on the right of the line.
The officers will salute his Excellency as he passes them, and the
troops present their arms by corps, and the drums beat a march. After
his Excellency is past the line, and alighted at Cape's Tavern, the
artillery will fire thirteen rounds."
As our flag was not raised on Fort George, nor the salute fired until
after Gov. Clinton and Gen. Washington arrived there, the delay, and
failure to carry out the orders strictly as issued, must be accounted
for by the embarrassing incident hereafter noticed.
[3] Why "the officers of the Revolution" should have taken a different
rout admits of this explanation. The officers referred to were no doubt
the mounted citizens who had ridden up with Knox from Bowling Green,
among whom were colonels, captains, etc., of the late army. The move was
evidently made to reach Cape's Tavern first, and be in position ready to
receive their Excellencies, Washington and Clinton, and present
addresses, which had been prepared. This is referred to in a letter
written by Elisha D. Whitlesey, dated Danbury, Conn., Aug. 24, 1821, "A
committee had been appointed by the citizens to wait upon Gen.
Washington and Gov. Clinton and other American officers, and to express
their joyful congratulations to them upon the occasion. A procession for
this purpose formed in the Bowery, marched through a part of the city,
and halted at a tavern, then known by the name of Cooper's [Cape's]
Tavern, in Broadway, where the following addresses were delivered.[4]
Mr. Thomas Tucker, late of this town [Danbury], and at that time a
respectable merchant in New York, a member of the committee, was
selected to perform the office on the part of the committee."
[4] For that to Washington, and his reply, see next note.
[5] ADDRESS TO GENERAL WASHINGTON,
_Presented at Cape's Tavern._
To his Excellency GEORGE WASHINGTON, Esquire, General and Commander in
Chief of the Armies of the United States of America:
The Address of the Citizens of New York, who have returned from exile,
in behalf of themselves and their suffering brethren:
SIR:
At a moment when the arm of tyranny is yielding up its fondest
usurpations, we hope the salutations of long suffering exiles, but now
happy freemen, will not be deemed an unworthy tribute. In this place,
and at this moment of exultation and triumph, while the ensigns of
slavery still linger in our sight, we look up to you, our deliverer,
with unusual transports of gratitude and joy. Permit us to welcome you
to this City, long torn from us by the hard hand of oppression, but now
by your wisdom and energy, under the guidance of Providence, once more
the seat of peace and freedom. We forbear to speak our gratitude or your
praise, we should but echo the voice of applauding millions; but the
Citizens of New York are eminently indebted to your virtues, and we who
have now the honor to address your Excellency, have been often
companions of your sufferings, and witnesses of your exertions. Permit
us therefore to approach your Excellency with the dignity and sincerity
of freemen, and to assure you that we shall preserve with our latest
breath our gratitude for your services, and veneration for your
character. And accept of our sincere and earnest wishes that you may
long enjoy that calm domestic felicity which you have so generously
sacrificed; that the cries of injured liberty may nevermore interrupt
your repose, and that your happiness may be equal to your virtues.
_Signed at the request of the meeting._
THOMAS RANDALL.
DAN. PHOENIX.
SAML. BROOME.
THOS. TUCKER.
HENRY KIPP.
PAT. DENNIS.
WM. GILBERT, SR.
WM. GILBERT, JR.
FRANCIS VAN DYCK.
JEREMIAH WOOL.
GEO. JANEWAY.
ABRA'M P. LOTT.
EPHRAIM BRASHIER.
NEW YORK, Nov. 25th, 1783.
THE GENERAL'S REPLY.
To the Citizens of New York who have returned from exile:
GENTLEMEN--
I thank you sincerely for your affectionate address, and entreat you to
be persuaded that nothing could be more agreeable to me than your polite
congratulations. Permit me in turn to felicitate you on the happy
repossession of your City.
Great as your joy must be on this pleasing occasion, it can scarcely
exceed that which I feel at seeing you, Gentlemen, who from the noblest
motives have suffered a voluntary exile of many years, return again in
peace and triumph, to enjoy the fruits of your virtuous conduct.
The fortitude and perseverance, which you and your suffering brethren
have exhibited in the course of the war, have not only endeared you to
your countrymen, but will be remembered with admiration and applause to
the latest posterity.
May the tranquility of your City be perpetual,--may the ruins soon be
repaired, commerce flourish, science be fostered, and all the civil and
social virtues be cherished in the same illustrious manner which
formerly reflected so much credit on the inhabitants of New York. In
fine, may every species of felicity attend you, Gentlemen, and your
worthy fellow citizens.
GEO. WASHINGTON.
[6] Gen. Jeremiah Johnson, who was present, so stated to the writer,
Feb. 15, 1848.
[7] A patriotic song was composed for that day, entitled, "The Sheep
Stealers," which was distributed and sung with immense gusto in the
evening coteries. Coarse, but designed to cast ridicule on the enemy, it
is given as a specimen of the popular songs of the period:
KING GEORGE sent his Sheep-stealers,
Poor Refugees and Tories!
King George sent his Sheep-stealers
To fish for mutton here,
To fish for mutton here,
To fish for mutton here,
But Yankees were hard dealers,
Poor Refugees and Tories;
But Yankees were hard dealers,
They sold their sheep-skins dear,
They sold their sheep-skins dear,
They sold their sheep-skins dear,
But Yankees were hard dealers,
They sold their sheep-skins dear!
At Boston Britons glorious,
The Refugees and Tories,
Made war on pigs and fowls,
But o'er men un-victorious,
They fled by night like owls!
The Howes came in a huff, Boys,
With Refugees and Tories,
To plunder, burn and sink;
But like a candle-snuff, Boys,
They went--and left a stink!
Burgoyne, that cunning rogue, ah!
With Refugees and Tories,
Of conquest laid grand schemes;
But Gates at Saratoga,
Awak'd him from his dreams!
The noble Earl Cornwally,
With Refugees and Tories,
Of southern plunderers chief,
At Yorktown wept the folly
Of stealing "Rebel" beef!
Clinton, that son of thunder,
With Refugees and Tories,
At New York took his stand.
And swore that he asunder
Would shake the Rebel land!
Of mighty deeds achieving,
With Refugees and Tories,
He talked, O! _he_ talked big,
But changed his plan to thieving
Of turkey, goose and pig!
Of conquest then despairing,
With Refugees and Tories,
George for his Bull-dogs sent;
They Yankee vengeance fearing,
_Greased the flagstaff_--and went!
Then Yorkers, let's remember
The Refugees and Tories,
The five and twentieth day
Of the bleak month, November,
When the Cow-thieves sneaked away!
[8] The British troops did not take their final departure from Long
Island and Staten Island till the 4th of December. Their flag waved over
Governor's Island till the 3d, when the Island was formally given up to
an officer sent over by Gov. Clinton, for that purpose. (Mag. of Am.
Hist., 1883, p. 430.) Sir Guy Carleton and other officers and gentlemen
sailed in the frigate Ceres, Capt. Hawkins.
[9] Among the more authentic newspaper accounts of the Evacuation, is
one of which I have here availed myself, contained in the New York _Sun_
of Nov. 27th, 1850, but copied from the _Observer_. Much valuable
material is also brought together in the _N. Y. Corp. Manual_ for 1870.