PART I.

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WOODSIDE, THE NORTH END OF NEWARK, N. J.

[Illustration: The “Magazine” House, 1812. Erected to store powder from

the Decatur works on Second river. This stood back of the Summerfield M.

E. Church where Woodside Avenue now runs. Here also was the site of the

Revolutionary camp ground of General Anthony Wayne, 1779, which

stretched north to Second river.]

WOODSIDE

The North End of Newark, N. J.

Its History, Legends and Ghost Stories

Gathered From the Records and the Older Inhabitants Now Living

By C. G. HINE

PART I

Early History. Before 1866

PART II

C. C. Hine and his times, briefly covering the period of personal

recollections and the development of Woodside as a residence section

PART III

Anecdotes of and matters personal to Mr. C. C. Hine

APPENDIX

HINE’S ANNUAL, 1909

INTRODUCTION.

I believe that those of long ago who wrote books frequently began with

an apology to the gentle reader, and I am inclined to do likewise, or at

least to rise and explain.

The fact is, this narrative was originally undertaken merely as a family

reminiscence, but Mr. C. C. Hine’s life was so interwoven with the later

life of Woodside that what was intended as a brief sketch to illustrate

a series of photographs has gradually grown into a book covering the

story of the region now known as Woodside as completely as I have been

able to gather it. This will account for the somewhat personal view

frequently indulged in and for some of the minor details.

Woodside, until it was opened as a residence section, was a purely

farming region whose inhabitants went elsewhere for their groceries and

religion, and as the average farmer thinks more of making hay than

history, the movement must necessarily be somewhat slow.

Dr. Macauley once said of Woodside: “As God made it it was a beautiful

place, but as the hand of man left it I have nothing to say.” That the

hand of man has desecrated it all those who knew its woodlands and

waterways twenty-five or more years ago can readily testify, but one of

its good points even man cannot reach, and that is its climate, for it

is the coolest part of Newark. This in former times was unconsciously

testified to by the drivers of the old horse cars, who were in the habit

of shedding their coats upon arrival at the cemetery from the north,

there to hide them among the bushes, and again resume them on the return

trip to Second river.

This region was then as beautiful a stretch of hill and vale and

riverside as could well be found. The river was clear and sparkling, and

fish abounded; the call of the whip-poor-will was heard on the evening

air, and the brown thrush sang to us from the thicket, while squirrel

and hare were always with us.

Groves of trees were numerous and beautiful. “Bird’s Woods” along Second

river with its magnificent old pines and hemlocks, the outer edge of the

wood fringed with an undergrowth of laurel, while partridge berries

gleamed from the depths of the moss underfoot, made an entrancing spot

which has seldom been equalled, and the ruins of the old mills along the

stream gave a picturesque touch that none who grew up with the region

can forget.

Effort has been made to give credit for information received; in some

cases authority for statements made is given in connection with the

statements themselves, as it is interesting and valuable to know the

source, but this is not always practicable, as the same item not

infrequently comes from several sources and it is occasionally difficult

to blend the varying opinions.

In a few instances statements made by unknown newspaper writers have

been used. The stories are given for what they are worth, but all of

them are part of the legend of the region and none have been invented

merely for filling.

I have honestly done the best I could in gathering and arranging the

material. Now and then I have come on a mine of information in such

friends as Mrs. Henry J. Winser and Messrs. E. A. Boyden, James S.

Taylor and James Swinnerton, but it has been mostly here a little and

there a little, and for such help I acknowledge indebtedness to Mr. W.

E. Blewett, Jr., Mr. E. A. Boyden, Miss J. F. Bradford, Mrs. R. H.

Brewster, Mr. Edward Burling, Mr. R. Smith Carter, Mr. James E. Coombes,

Mr. Frank S. Crane, Mrs. Henry Davis, Miss Anna B. Farrand, Mrs. A. H.

Gibbs, Messrs. Levi C. and William H. Jackson, Mrs. Margaret H. Kay, Mr.

J. Edwin Keen, Mr. John Morris Keen, Mr. Thomas Kinsey, Mr. David

Maclure, Mr. James C. McDonald, Mrs. John R. Mathews, Mr. Theodore

Melius, Rev. Henry Merle Mellen, Mr. Henry B. Munn, Mr. Lincoln B.

Palmer, Mrs. Margaret Perry, Miss and Messrs. Phillips, Mr. Henry C.

Rommel, Mr. Arthur E. Sandford, Miss. J. A. Sidman, Judge Alfred F.

Skinner, Mr. William Stimis. Mr. James Swinnerton, Miss Laura M.

Sydenham, Mr. James S. Taylor, Mr. L. P. Teller, Judge Jay Ten Eyck,

Mrs. Mary E. Tucker, Dr. Grenville M. Weeks, Mrs. Emma F. Welch, Mrs. E.

M. Wessel, Mrs. Henry J. Winser.

I am also indebted to the Newark Public Library, the New Jersey

Historical Society and the New York Historical Society, and to the real

estate records of the Fidelity Trust Company.

Through the courtesy and co-operation of Mr. Charles Grant Schaeffer,

Principal of the Elliott Street School, the school children entered into

a competition for a cover design for this book which resulted in the

selection of the design submitted by Miss Edna Eckert, a pupil in the

Eighth B Grade.

PART I.

[Illustration: Woodside in 1849. Enlarged from Sidney’s map of “Twelve

Miles Around New York”, published in 1849.]

GENERAL HISTORY.

Woodside was originally included in the Newark grant, which extended

north “to the Third River above the towne, ye River is called

Yauntakah”. For a long time those of this region in common with those of

Belleville, were known as the “Inhabitants of the Second River”. But

Newark on March 11, 1743, having become tired of supporting the poor of

so large a district, narrowed its borders, drawing a line on the north

just below the eastern end of the Gully road to the “Boiling Spring”.

THE FIRST BOUNDARIES OF WOODSIDE.

The description given in the Town Meeting of March 11, 1743, reads as

follows: “Beginning at Passaick River, at the Gulley near the House of

Doct’r Pigot, thence North West (Northeast?) to Second River, thence up

the same to the Saw Mill belonging to George Harrison, thence a direct

Line to the North East Corner of the Plantation of Stephen Morris,

thence to the Notch in the Mountain leaving William Crane’s House to the

Southward, thence on a direct line to Stephen Van siles, thence

Westwardly (Eastwardly?) to Passaick River leaving said Van siles Bars

and Abraham Francisco’s to the Northward of s’d Line: and it was agreed,

that all on the Northward of s’d Lines should be esteemed Inhabitants of

Second River, and all on the Southward of the Body of Newark, excepting

Levi Vincent, Johanes Kiper and his Son Thomas Cadmus. John Low desired

that himself and his Father might be reconed or esteemed Inhabitants of

Second River, since they belonged to that Society.”

This is a verbatim copy taken from the “Newark Town Records”, but I do

not know just what it means unless some previous copyist stood on his

head when putting down the points of the compass.

AN INDEPENDENT COMMUNITY.

For nearly one hundred years this region was a portion of Bloomfield, or

Wardesson, as it was formerly known, and when in 1839 Belleville was set

off from eastern Bloomfield, Woodside became a part of the newer

township, and so remained until March 24, 1869, when it became

independent of all outside control.

At this time its boundaries extended from the mouth of Second river

along the west bank of the Passaic to a point immediately below the

Gully road, thence west a little south to the Boiling Spring, cutting

across Second avenue above Mount Prospect avenue, thence almost

northeast to a point on the canal just above what is now known as the

“butter works”; thence southeast a quarter mile or so to Second river

which it crossed and continued with Mill street as its northern limit as

far as the Back road, from which point Second river was itself the

dividing line to its mouth at the Passaic.

WOODSIDE SUBMERGED.

But, alas! on the fifth of April, 1871, our independence was lost

forever and most of us were turned over to the tender mercies of the

Newark politicians, who have ever since exercised a wonderful ingenuity

in taxing us poor inhabitants to the limit and giving as little in

return as possible. In fact the only thing we get for our taxes, aside

from the fire department service, is an occasional policeman, who comes

twice each year with tickets to sell for ball or excursion. Does the

road need paving or sewering, the cost is assessed on the abutting

property, and so is it with sidewalks, and even with the shade trees

which the city fathers insist are good for us, and having planted them

they send us a bill therefor. The Woodsider has never yet been able to

ascertain what he is taxed for, unless it is to keep the politicians in

good running order. This remark should be qualified to some extent so

far as the police are concerned, for no locality could have a better

protector than Mounted Officer Niblo, who has long been on this post and

who, we hope, will long remain; there is also a patrolman who does his

duty as though his job depended on it, but the majority of them seem to

have the true politician’s idea as to what is good for them.

The sin was legalized by “An Act to divide the township of Woodside

between the City of Newark and the township of Belleville”.

The boundary of Woodside is given as “beginning at the intersection of

the centre of the Second river with the centre of the Passaic river;

thence (1) running southerly along the centre of the Passaic river, the

several courses thereof, to the northerly line of the city of Newark

(just below Gully road); thence (2) westerly along the said line of the

city of Newark to the centre of the Great Boiling spring, at the line of

the township of Bloomfield; thence (3) northerly along said line to the

centre of Branch brook; thence (4) northeasterly along the centre of

said brook, the several courses thereof, to the centre of Second river;

thence (5) down along the centre of Second river, the several courses

thereof, to the centre of Passaic River, and the place of beginning.”

All of the township of Woodside not included within the above mentioned

boundaries was annexed to the township of Belleville.

James S. Gamble, Horace H. Nichols and Charles Akers, of the township of

Woodside, were among the commissioners appointed to see that the

division was properly carried out.

The act was approved April 5, 1871.

The transition from independence to slavery was engineered, I am told,

by three men for personal and selfish motives, and it gives me great

pleasure to record that all three were sadly left. One longed to be

sheriff, but must live in Newark to secure the nomination, and did not

wish to remove from this pleasant land; the two others were holders of

considerable property, and it was their hope that a boom in building

lots would set in that would materially fatten their pocketbooks, and so

in some dark and mysterious way our model township was ceded to Newark.

But the politician failed of election and the lots did not sell, and

“one of the disappointed real estate owners, like Judas Iscariot, went

out and hanged himself”.

Once the place belonged to Newark the street car company could, of

course, do what it liked with the roadway, and it shortly proceeded to

regrade (I had almost said degrade) Washington avenue above Elwood,

utterly destroying the carefully laid out parkway on which property

owners had spent much thought and money. Terraces and trees were

ruthlessly cut down and, to provide a dumping place for the earth

removed, Oraton street was cut through and filled in with the Washington

avenue debris. “Ichabod was written upon the avenue and the fine name of

Oraton could in no way lend dignity to the new street”, which at that

time was largely given over to negroes and laborers.

THE OLD ROADS OF WOODSIDE.

Until 1865 Woodside was a purely agricultural district, except for the

factories along Second river, and contained but four roads of any

moment. The River road, the Back road to Belleville, the old Bloomfield

or Long Hill road and the lower road from Belleville to Bloomfield,

known as Murphy’s lane. There was also one cross road known as Division

road or Bootleg lane, because of its shape; this is now given over to

Halleck street and Grafton avenue, with that bit of Washington avenue

which lies between.

HOW WE ARE TO PROCEED.

The history and legend, dating before 1867, so far as I have been able

to find them, will be taken up guidebook fashion by following each road

in turn and pointing out its wonders as we proceed.

THE RIVER ROAD.

“The road to ‘Hocquackanong’ was laid out from the north end of Newark,

as the path then ran, through the village named, passing the north end

of the Acquackanonk meeting house and thence to Pompton”. This was

recorded March 16, 1707, and must refer to the River road, though

probably all the laying out it received was on paper.

The Indians from Paterson and beyond had a well defined trail along the

river bank which led to Newark Bay, and the early settlers probably used

this without attempting much improvement.

THE GULLY ROAD.

As we travel northward the River road naturally begins with the Gully

road. As far back as tradition goes and the old maps show, the Gully

road has existed, but there is a theory that the Indian trail, of which

the River road is an expansion, continued down the river bank, and one

bit of folk-lore which remains indicates that this may have been so.

A GULLY ROAD GHOST.

The legend tells us that so long ago that those who tell the story

cannot compute the time, there lived at the present junction of

Washington avenue and the Gully road an aged couple in a simple cot that

hardly kept them from the weather. There was then a small stream that

claimed the gully for its own, but as time went on the brook gradually

dried up, and as gradually people from the back country began to use its

bed as a highway. As traffic grew the cottage was found to lie in the

way of travelers, and one night it was ruthlessly torn down over the

head of its defenseless occupant, for by this time only one was left.

The resultant exposure proved fatal, the old settler being unable to

survive the shock, and ever after has his ghost walked the Gully road.

The ghost has not been seen for thirty years or more, but one who has

actually met the vision, a lady of years and education, tells me that

she distinctly saw it one dark Sunday afternoon, about 1879, while on

her way to church.

Though a resident here for several years she had never heard of the

Gully road ghost, nor did she know that the region was haunted, but in

the darkest and loneliest part of the road she encountered a nebulous

shape about the size of a human being, standing at a gate which gave

entrance to one of the few places along the road. My informant was young

then, and more easily frightened than now, but she saw too distinctly to

believe that she could have been mistaken. It appears that the lady had

disregarded the biblical injunction to obey her husband, for he did not

wish her to go to church at that particular time, but she, being

contrary minded, insisted, and it seems highly probable that the ghost

was sent to warn her back into path of obedience. Hurrying back she

informed her husband, but nothing more was seen of the apparition and it

was some time later that she learned that the road was haunted and heard

the above story from an old settler.

INDIAN RELICS FOUND IN THE GULLY ROAD.

The present level of the Gully road is much lower than it was even fifty

years ago, and there is a legend that one hundred and fifty years ago a

great freshet cut out large quantities of earth here, but the higher

level could hardly have been of long duration, for Mrs. Gibbs recalls

that a number of years ago, while workmen were digging a trench,

possibly for the sewer, they brought up what are thought to have been

Indian relics from a depth of twelve feet or more. Mr. Gibbs’s brother

was passing at the moment of discovery and tried to purchase the find

from the man in charge, as he regarded it of considerable ethnological

value, but the contractor refused to sell, and when Mr. Gibbs and his

brother returned to the spot the men had gone and their discovery with

them, and to-day the exact character of the find is not known. Other

Indian finds in this immediate neighborhood are a stone mortar and

pestle and many arrow points on the Gibbs place. On the Sandford place,

just above, a stone mortar hollowed out of a heavy block long stood by

the well. This was kept filled with water for the chickens to drink

from. When the place was regraded this stone disappeared, it having been

probably buried.

(Since the above was put in type I have found one of the laborers who

was employed in building the sewer through the Gully road. He tells me

that this was about fourteen years ago, that the find occurred just east

of the entrance to the Gibbs place on the north edge of the road, and

consisted of four or five Indian skeletons with many stone hammers,

arrow points, etc. My informant is under the impression that the burial

place was extensive and only partially uncovered.)

From the fact that Indians would hardly dig to any such depth as

indicated above, it is fair to presume that the filling in may have been

comparatively recent; possibly some great storm had washed masses of

earth down into the gully.

The Gully road is now well paved and lighted and much affected by that

brazen highwayman the automobile, but there was a time when it was a

dark and lonesome place where no honest man desired to be caught after

dark; where it is said smugglers filed by during the silent watches of

the night, the deserted river bank here being a favorite rendezvous for

those whose deeds were evil.

OLD MOLL DE GROW.

Sixty years or so ago a stone wall ran from the bend of the Gully road,

near the river diagonally to Belleville avenue, across the property now

occupied by the cemetery. Beside this stone wall was buried the first

person interred on the site of the cemetery—a noted witch, old Moll

DeGrow, the fear of whose shade lent greatly to the terrors of the Gully

seventy-five years ago.

This witch was used by the elders as a bugaboo to keep the children

indoors after dark, and she appears to have been eminently useful and

successful in this capacity. The Gully road was as black as a black hat

on a moonless night, and one who ventured abroad at such a time never

could tell when he or she might be grabbed by the powers of darkness.

During the long Winter evenings these farmer and fisher folk were wont

to amuse and scare themselves, as well as the children, by relating all

manner of ghostly experiences. Mrs. Henry Davis recalls how, as a child,

she used to crawl up to bed so terrified after an evening of witch

stories that she could hardly move, her one thought being to get under

the bed clothes as quickly as possible, where she would all but smother.

Under such circumstances the ghost of a witch was a powerful combination

for evil, and particularly so when it was such a witch as old Moll, who

was so much a terror to the neighborhood that there was talk of burning

her in order to rid the community of her undesirable presence, but

fortunately she died before this feeling culminated in a tragedy. Mrs.

Henry Davis well remembers hearing her mother (a former Miss King) tell

this as a fact.

BODY SNATCHING.

In the early days of the cemetery, when it was inclosed by a high wooden

fence, there was considerable talk of body-snatching, and one of the men

in charge of the grounds was strongly suspected.

Old Mrs. Holt walking down the Gully road one night saw, standing in the

darkest shadow, an old fashioned undertaker’s wagon, and hearing voices

of men, stepped back among the bushes out of harm’s way. Soon she saw

three men against the night sky standing on the high ground of the

cemetery. One carried a lantern while the other two had a long bundle

shrouded in white. He with the lantern stopped on the ridge, while the

others kept down the slope. Now they lifted their bundle to the top of

the fence where one man steadied it while the other climbed over. When

both were over the body was taken down and placed in the wagon. The man

on the hill, whose voice Mrs. Holt recognized, called good-night to the

men in the road and they responded as the wagon rapidly drove toward

Newark.

THE DEVIL IN THE GULLY ROAD.

How John Thompson saw the Devil in the Gully road was once told by

himself in a moment of great confidence, for ordinarily he would never

speak of the adventure.

About ’68 or ’69 John worked for Mr. Melius on the River road, and it

was noticed that when called on to drive down town after dusk for his

employer he invariably went the long way round—Grafton and Washington

avenues—and when coming back with Mr. M. he would shut his mouth the

moment they entered within the dark precincts of the Gully and say never

a word until they were well beyond the black shadow of its overhanging

trees.

It seems that John was originally a river man and that he sailored under

Captain Nichols, whose profanity was one of his notable points; he had a

varied assortment of swear-words and a proficiency in their use that

made the efforts of ordinary mortals pale into insignificance.

For some reason not explained the schooner was held up in Newark one

day, and as the Captain lived in Belleville there was nothing for it but

to walk home. John Thompson went along for, of course, neither one of

the seamen thought much of the storm that was raging, even if the rain

did come down in torrents which soaked them through.

It certainly did look dark and creepy to John as he peered into the

black hole of the Gully road, and though he was himself a gentleman of

color and matched up with a dark night first rate, he ever fancied

daylight for such places, but the Captain went plunging on into the

shadows and John could but follow.

The Captain had used up his stock of cuss-words, and while in the very

darkest part of the tunnel commenced all over again and was going fine

when a sudden, blinding flash of lightning discovered to John, who was

in the rear, a third man walking between them and chuckling every time

the Captain swore. Before the light went out John saw that the man was

dressed like a parson and that his clothes appeared to be dry in spite

of the heavy downpour. A second flash showed a most alarming state of

things: the stranger was on fire, smoke or steam was escaping from every

crevice, but still he chuckled as the Captain ripped out all manner of

strange oaths, and did not seem to pay any attention to his own internal

combustion; even in the dark his glee could be heard bubbling forth, nor

could the pounding of the storm drown it. By this time the Captain’s

attention was also attracted, and when a third flash enabled them to see

that their unknown companion had hoofs their worst suspicions were

realized and both men broke and ran for Belleville as fast as two pairs

of scared legs could carry them, while the Devil laughed long and loud

at their dismay.

A LOVER’S LANE.

Another man once ran against a cow in the Gully road one dark night and

was considerably worked up over the adventure for the moment. The

unfortunate part of it was that he lingered long enough to discover that

it was a cow, else we might have had another story of these darksome

terrors. The horns and hoofs were there, and all that was needed was a

little more imagination and not quite so much practicality. But not all

the stories of the Gully road are of such fearful things as these. It

was a way of surpassing beauty when lighted by the sun, and a lover’s

lane that fairly blossomed with loving couples on pleasant Sunday

afternoons, when the sighing of the wind in the trees was but an echo of

the happy sighs below. Many a life contract has been signed, sealed and

delivered within its confines; in fact I have heard of one youth who

proposed on the way back from a boat race, the romantic influence of the

place with its glamor of shady nooks being quite too much for his

equanimity.

GHOST OF A BRITISH SPY.

Then there was the English spy who, legend says, was captured by a party

of Americans and promptly hanged on the limb of a large tree that stood

at the bend of the road. His ghost was for long a sad handicap to the

neighborhood and, singular as it may seem, he is said to have played his

wildest pranks with those who placed the greatest faith in him. But

since the spread of the Mount Pleasant Cemetery down toward his abode

little or nothing has been heard of his doings. One theory is that of

late he has come within the orbits of so many other ghosts, but of a

more respectable and orderly character, that he has become inextricably

tangled, much as is reported of wireless messages when many amateurs

assault the air.

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT.

About fifty years ago Henry William Herbert, who wrote under the name of

Frank N. Forrester, resided on the river bank within the present limits

of the cemetery, his place being known as “The Cedars”. A queer,

romantic figure about which much of fiction as well as truth has been

woven.

To Mr. Boyden and others, whose youth was spent about here, this strange

figure was a familiar sight, for the recluse used almost daily to walk

down town, his shoulders enveloped in a shawl, and always with a troop

of dogs at his heels. Those who so remember him rather resent the fact

that his brawls have been made much of and his virtues neglected by such

as write of him, for they recall him as an attractive man and pleasant

companion with many kindly qualities. Herbert generally made a call at

the Black Horse tavern which then stood at the “Stone Bridge”, and after

a short stay would continue on to the Park House. He was apt to be

brusque with those he did not like, and when “beyond his depth” through

too great conviviality inclined to be ugly when opposed.

He was born in London April 7, 1807, and was educated at an English

college. He came to New York in 1831, supporting himself by teaching and

later by writing short stories, historical novels and books on sports,

his “Field Sports of America” soon making his name a familiar one to the

lovers of gun and rod.

A Newarker, who has written of him from personal knowledge, says:—

“It is a difficult matter to sift the good from the bad in Herbert’s

character. He was in truth a most rare and singular being if he did not

possess some virtues.

“When writing his celebrated work, ‘Field Sports of America’, he had

access to the Newark Library; not content with the privileges there

afforded, he cut out bodily leaves from ‘The Encyclopedia Britannica’,

evidently unmindful of the selfishness and criminality of the act. There

are some men made up of inconsistencies, and a strange agglomeration of

moods. Herbert was one of them.

“There is nothing associated with Herbert’s life that is apt to strike a

stranger favorably. He was a direct antithesis of Irving, who possessed

a certain magnetic influence. The truth is Irving was a good man and

Herbert was not. Herbert was endowed with rare genius, and those who

have a desire to become convinced of this fact should read his works;

they tower as far above the general literary productions of to-day as

does the Oregon pine over the tender sapling. His characters are finely

drawn—not overdrawn—his heroines are as pure as the purest, and his

villains—distinctive in their characteristics—‘act well their parts’.

Though not an extensive verse writer, Herbert was the author of some

very creditable poetry, his translation of Æschylus’s ‘Prometheus Bound’

and ‘Agamemnon’ show ripe scholarship and otherwise redound to his

credit.

“In several of his novels the subject of this sketch has portrayed his

own character far better than it has been or can be done by another.

Whatever Herbert’s defects, as an author he was of the highest order; he

was a voluminous writer and a fine translator. ‘Marmaduke Wyvil’,

‘Cromwell’ and ‘The Roman Traitor’ are works that stand in the front

rank of their class, while among his translations M. Thiers’s ‘Life of

the First Consul’ is one of the standard works of literature. In his

historical novels he approaches nearer Sir Walter Scott than any author

I have been privileged to read. He was, in fact, a dual character—an

enigma. His genius merits admiration, and it is safe to say that his

fame will not die with the century that gave him birth.”

Many are the stories told to show his eccentric character and occasional

violence. During summer days he would place himself on the bank of the

river with a gun and threaten to shoot passing boatmen unless they came

on shore at his bidding, but no sooner did they land than Herbert would

disappear, leaving the affrighted oarsmen in a state of perplexity as to

what next. It sounds much like a fool trick from this distance, but his

reputation made the experience anything but a pleasant one.

Conviviality was the order of the night at The Cedars, Herbert being

much in the habit of inviting friends to enjoy what he termed the

hospitality of the place. On one such occasion four guests were drinking

with him, when the host suddenly sprang to his feet and produced from a

small closet two swords and, throwing one on the table, ordered one of

those present to defend himself. Recognizing that the affair might

terminate seriously, one of the guests kicked over the table, throwing

the lamp to the floor and enveloping the room in sudden darkness. The

party “broke up” then and there, and the company made for the Gully road

that they might live to fight another day. Herbert was thoroughly crazed

by this time, and chased his friends up to and down Belleville avenue.

Finally the pursued separated and the pursuer kept on after one of them

even to the Black Horse tavern (Broad street and Belleville avenue),

where an escape was effected.

THE HARE AND TORTOISE.

A race modeled on Æsop’s fable is by no means an everyday occurrence,

but Herbert was by no means an everyday citizen. He seems to have been

as fond of a joke as he is said to have been of a bottle, and these two

loves furnished a modern version of the Hare and Tortoise fable. The

following facts are given me by Mr. James S. Taylor, who was an eye

witness of the event, and who secured missing details from one of the

participants later.

But before going on with the story suppose we hear what the local poet

had to say on the subject:—

THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE.

This is the tale of a race

That long years gone took place

On the broad river Passaic

When times were archaic,

And here are the facts in the case:

One Herbert of eccentric renown

Challenged a friend, of the town,

And a supper of game

Should be prize for the same,

And with plenty of wine washed down.

The challenged was clumsy at rowing

And his boat very poor was at going,

While Herbert’s was light

And his rowing a sight

To set all his backers a-crowing.

But, like the hare in the ancient race,

Herbert likewise did slacken his pace,

And soon sought his ease

‘Neath the leaves where the trees

On the waters their shadows did trace.

A bottle he had from the vine

And was having a jolly good time,

When his friend labored by,

To whom Herbert did cry:

“Stop in and have sup of my wine.”

But the tortoise kept steadily at work

While the hare on the bank still did shirk—

Where drink of the gods held him fast,

Where the cool, dark shadows were cast

And the scent of wild flowers did lurk.

The end came as it should in such case,

For the tortoise, though slow, won the race,

And ’twas Herbert who paid for that supper of game.

The story is ended, but for details of same

We’ll drop into prose for a space.

Herbert was well acquainted with Frank Harrison, veteran of the war with

Mexico and keeper of the North Ward Hotel on Broad street, opposite

Bridge. At some convivial point in his existence he suggested to

Harrison that the two have a boat race on the Passaic, from Belleville

to Newark, the prize to be a game supper, and the latter, being game

himself, though no boatman, accepted the challenge.

The only condition or obligation of the race was that they should start

together, and that the first man to cross the finishing line should win.

Each could choose his own boat and suit himself as to rowing. Herbert,

living on the river, had a light boat which he knew how to handle, was

familiar with the currents and eddies and was moreover a good oarsman,

while his opponent knew nothing of the Passaic or its ways. The day was

warm, the start was made on time and Harrison received the inverted

plaudits of the company assembled for the occasion, for it seemed to

these wise ones that there could be but one end to such an event.

Herbert was away promptly and soon out of sight around the bend where

Second river loses its identity, while the dispenser of strong waters

was yet finding himself, but as he rowed our eccentric friend became

warm and a black bottle, which he had brought along for company, looked

up at him from the bottom of the boat with an invitation he could not

resist.

He was now well on his way and still his antagonist was not in sight,

therefore, hurry seemed out of place, and then the cool depths of the

tree-shaded river bank looked inviting and, thinking to tarry but a

moment, he put the boat about for the shore.

Once on shore and stretched at his ease the necessity for any race at

all did not appear plain to our hero and he gurgled the time away,

blissfully careless as to what might happen out in the hot sunshine.

Thus the second boat came along, passed and continued on down toward the

goal. Possibly Herbert thought he could at any time overtake his clumsy

antagonist, possibly he did not go so far in his speculations; whatever

his idea was, the tortoise won the race and the game supper.

Herbert shot himself in the Stevens House, New York, on May 17, 1858. He

was buried in Mount Pleasant Cemetery, overlooking the river he knew so

well, and his epitaph, which he is said to have suggested himself, is

the single Latin word “Infelice”.

EARLIER DWELLERS SOUTH OF THE GULLY ROAD.

In 1743 a Dr. Edward Pigot lived hereabouts, as is noted in the Town

Meeting of that year, quoted elsewhere; who he was or whence he came is

not for me to say. In 1791 Abraham Sandford, Jr., and Elisha Sandford,

lived in an old house on the site of the Herbert house, while building

the Sandford dwelling, which still stands nearly opposite the Point

House. As early as 1680 the property was owned by Henry Rowe, and

remained in the possession of the family until about 1812. Mary Rowe, a

witch, lived in a cabin here, and may be the same person referred to

elsewhere as Moll De Grow.

After that I find no record of a dwelling here until Herbert built.

After his death this house was occupied for a short time by Mr. Joseph

S. Rano, a shoemaker by trade, and a great hunter and a haunter of the

river and its banks; then came Mr. Sanchez y Dolce, who resided here

until the dwelling was destroyed by fire. Then came the cemetery, and it

is now the dwelling place of many dead.

GREEN ISLAND.

Those who only know the Passaic of to-day can hardly realize that there

was once a “Green Island” lying off the northern end of Mount Pleasant

Cemetery which was a noted rendezvous for wild ducks and geese, with

enough water between it and the shore to enable river craft to navigate

the channel.

This Green Island was a thorn in the side of the cemetery people, who

purchased it for $ 1,000, or thought they did; but soon came those who

bluffed them into buying it over again, and this time they paid $10,000.

When the Erie came it claimed that the cemetery had no rights in Green

Island at all, and calmly pre-empted it for trackage purposes.

OF FISH AND FISHING.

Seventy-five years ago this was a hunter’s paradise, and even within the

memory of some of us old codgers the fishing for shad and smelts was a

well established industry. In fact, the fishing rights of Green Island

were for hire, as I am told that one could rent them for a day or a week

and do his own fishing. Old Fink, whoever he was, once gathered in five

hundred shad in one haul; at least one of his contemporaries does

solemnly affirm such to have been the case, and another as calmly tells

me that fourteen bushels of smelts were the reward of two hauls, of

which he had cognizance.

This almost sounds as if we were again on the lake of Gennesaret. But

still greater wonders are recorded by Mr. William Stimis, eighty-seven

years of age, who has heard his father say that he had seen 1,200 shad

caught in one haul, and he, William, with three others, gathered in 120

bushels of smelts in one night. He also tells of a striped bass weighing

sixty-six pounds, sturgeon six feet long and of a host of lesser fish

that swam the Passaic.

THE SMELT OF THE PASSAIC RIVER.

In Graham’s American Monthly Magazine, 1854, appears a “Memoir on the

Smelt of the Passaic River”, by Frank Forrester, from which the

following brief facts are taken:—

The author was fond of classical allusions and high sounding phrases,

and devotes two of his four pages to telling us how much he knows of

things that do not pertain to the subject in hand, but when he gets down

to “the delicious little fish known as the Smelt” we learn that it is

the smallest of the salmon family, that the American smelt is larger

than, and superior to, the European variety, and that its zoological

name “osmerus” is from the Greek, and means “to give forth a perfume”,

this having reference to the peculiar odor of cucumbers it exhales when

fresh.

The smelt of the Passaic and Raritan rivers was an entirely different

fish from that of the Connecticut and more eastern rivers, and commanded

a far higher price in the New York markets, though much smaller, the

majority being under six inches in length while the eastern smelt

averages eleven to twelve inches. The whole fish was of the most

brilliant pearly silver, with the slightest possible changeable hue of

greenish blue along the back, “The peculiar cucumber odor, in the

freshly caught fish, and the extreme delicacy of the flesh, both of

which are (1854) so far superior in the fish of the Passaic, as to be

obvious to the least inquisitive observer”. This Passaic smelt Mr.

Herbert found agreed in every particular with the description of the

European smelt.

In the springs of 1853-4 no school of fish, either shad or smelt, ran up

the river owing, it was believed, to the establishment of a chain ferry

about a mile above Newark bay. Mr. Herbert never knew of a well

authenticated case where the smelt had been taken with bait, but states

that they could be taken with the scarlet Ibis fly, and that he had

himself killed them thus on the Passaic.

Two well known figures of the Green Island waters were those of the “Two

Horaces”, as they were called, Messrs. Horace H. Nichols and Horace

Carter, brothers-in-law, neighbors and good friends. They constructed a

comfortable boat for the purpose and might have been seen almost any

pleasant afternoon, when the fishing was on, placidly waiting for a

bite.

THE POINT HOUSE.

When the Erie came it drove spiles into the tender bosom of Green

Island, and in time filled in a solid road bed, and where we once hunted

for the roots and buds of the calamus docks have been built and filled

in, and our island has lost its identity. All this filling has so

changed the outline of the river bank that it is not now evident why the

“Point House” was so named, though there was a time when this was a well

developed point.

Accounts differ somewhat as to the old-time owners of the Point House

property, even the same man does not altogether agree with himself on

this point. It is said that Judge Elias Boudinot, a Newarker, secured

the property from the state, there being no other claimant for it. It

was probably purchased on November 12, 1799, from the Judge by Abraham

Van Emburgh who, about 1810-14, left suddenly for parts unknown because

of a financial panic in the Van Emburgh family.

[Illustration: The Point House. Said to be 150 years old. The scene of

many a story and incident.]

The property was sold by order of the court on July 24, 1811, to Thomas

Whitlock who, on August 22, 1811, sold it to Peter Sandford; his heirs

disposed of it on February 8, 1832, to William Duncan, John Cunningham,

Sebastian Duncan and John Duncan. Another account makes Simeon Stivers

an owner one hundred years ago, and also mentions one William Glasby and

Miles I’Anson as subsequent owners.

PHŒBE KING AND THE POINT HOUSE.

That the Point House was a place of resort at an early date would appear

from the following anecdote told me by Mrs. R. H. Brewster, a

granddaughter of that Phœbe King who furnished the original material for

the story, and who lived just below in the King house. The incident

occurred before 1820, and came to Mrs. Brewster from her mother.

During certain seasons of the year the men of the neighborhood were in

the habit of going on what were known as fishing trips on the river, but

though they fished within sight of their own doors, they would remain

away from home for two or three days, using the Point House, which was

then run by a woman, as headquarters, and here they indulged in what

were technically known as “fish dinners”, and these fish dinners, it

would appear, were conducive to more or less conviviality. The fact that

“Poddy”, husband of Phœbe, was much troubled with gout in later years

may have been due to an excess of fish, or something taken at this

time—however this is merely surmise.

Phœbe, it seems, came to the conclusion that her good man was eating too

many fish dinners, and she said something to this effect, even going so

far, when no attention was paid to her first hint, as to suggest that

she might blow up the Point House if “Poddy” did not change his method

of fishing, but he forgot all about it the next time one of his cronies

came along and off he went again. Thus things ran along some two years

or more until one day Phœbe discovered a ladder standing against the

side of the Point House, next the kitchen chimney, at a time when a

“fish dinner” was hatching, and as our story opens a great chowder was

brewing over the fire at the bottom of that chimney. Phœbe saw her

opportunity and grasped it; procuring a long string, a small bag and

what she thought was powder enough to give the fisherman a scare, she

proceeded to work. But as the result shows she underestimated the

ability of good black powder to do things.

With the powder inclosed in the bag and the bag fast to one end of the

string the good wife cautiously ascended to the roof and, carefully

placing the bag just over the chimney’s edge, she then came back to

earth and, walking as far as the string would permit, let it go and

hurried home. The result was even more conclusive than she had

anticipated, for the explosion that followed not only distributed the

chowder with absolute impartiality to the expectant company gathered

around the hearth, but also removed a portion of the chimney.

It would appear that at that time there was a witch in the neighborhood,

possibly old Moll DeGrow, whose power for evil was generally recognized,

and the recipients of the chowder promptly came to the conclusion that

the witch was at the bottom of the trouble, all but “Poddy”. He had a

light, and hastened home with it, but there sat Phœbe, placidly spinning

and greatly surprised at his tale of woe, and though he tried to get up

an argument over the matter it lacked success, being much too one-sided,

and it was many years before he was allowed to verify his suspicions. In

the meantime fish dinners at the Point House went out of fashion, the

new method of serving chowder not being looked on with favor.

THE POINT HOUSE WORKS FOR A LIVING.

For several years the Duncans carried on the printing and dyeing of silk

handkerchiefs in the Point House, probably the first enterprise of this

sort established in the vicinity of Newark. They secured the raw silk in

New York and, after converting it into the finished article, one of the

brothers would make up a bundle of handkerchiefs and trudge to New York

with it. On leaving this place the Duncans established the woolen mills

in Franklin, N. J., which have since been known as the Essex Works.

Apparently the next use to which the point was put was for the

transshipping of freight, for we are told that rather more than fifty

years ago this was a landing where vessels unloaded coal and other

commodities which those from the back country, even so far as

Bloomfield, were wont to cart home by way of the Division road and

Murphy’s lane.

About 1855 our old Point House, which some say was built 150 years ago,

was owned by George Jackson, who manufactured fireworks here, while his

brother Charles followed the same trade in a small building just north.

He is said to have paid $400 for the property. About once in so often

the fireworks factory would explode, and it made such a nuisance of

itself because of these irregular excursions heavenward that Mr. Gould,

who lived just across the way, purchased the property in order to quiet

his nerves.

From fireworks to firewater sounds like an easy transition, and so we

come to the Holt regime. The Holts and a brother of Mrs. Holt, Ed.

Moorehouse, lived in the King house (which we have passed without

knowing it, and to which we shall go back shortly) and some time before

1865 removed to the Point House, and here again was trouble for the

neighbors, for while this was not a regular tavern, it would appear that

a certain black bottle was part of its furniture, and that that black

bottle was a magnet which no servant girl of the time and region could

resist. Now a drunken cook is not generally regarded as any great

addition to the family menage, as I am informed. It was no small

undertaking to find a cook who would go so far into the country as this

region then was, and when found, to have her almost immediately go

astray via the Point House, was considered highly provoking.

The Holts made their own root beer, and there is a story to the effect

that while a party of well known Newarkers was in the place one day a

keg of this same beer, which stood on the bar, exploded and deluged the

visitors with a combination of liquid sassafras and wintergreen that was

shocking to see and worse to bear, and it is recorded that those

inundated failed to discover a funny side to the experience.

THE FLOATING PALACE.

The “Floating Palace”, kept by Ed. Holt, appears to have been a laudable

effort on his part to benefit his friends and neighbors by catering to

those who frequented the river. This was a boat anchored in the middle

of the stream, which was reached by customers in small boats. It appears

to be commonly thought that Ed. had a government license, but no local

permit to retail liquor, and the boat was supposed to overcome the

difficulty by straddling the county line. But one who knew Ed. well and

knew the kind of a place he kept tells me that he sold nothing stronger

than beer, and endeavored in every way to keep the boat of such a

character that respectable parties could stop for refreshment, and that

he was ably seconded in this by his Scotch-Irish wife, whose influence

was all for good. Under more favorable circumstances Ed. Holt might have

developed into a leading citizen. He was a man of character and of very

temperate habits himself; a carpenter by trade, he always refused to

employ men who were habitual drinkers.

For a short time there was a second floating palace anchored in Dead

Man’s bend, nearly opposite the lower end of Green Island, which was

thoroughly disreputable, and it is probable that the reputation of this

was unjustly extended to Holt’s place, for many people are to-day of the

opinion that the latter was not as clean as it might have been. The

Floating Palace burned to the water’s edge while Ed. Holt was still

proprietor, and the experiment was not tried again.

The Point House was long known to oarsmen as the training ground of some

of the famed scullers of the world. Captain Chris. Van Emburgh, mariner,

was one of the noted characters who frequented the place; he was an old

Passaic river skipper and came originally from its eastern bank.

Quite within the memory of those who are now beginning to be numbered

with the older inhabitants, the place was one of the picturesque

features of the river. Here were benches placed beneath the graceful

willows which adorned the banks of the point; it was a good vantage

ground from which to view the boat races when the local Tritons were

trying their powers of endurance against outside barbarians. There were

boats to let here, as full many a lover knew. But as the river became

more and more foul such diversions ceased, and to-day the Point House

stands shorn of all its old time attractions.

OLD BLACK TOM.

Old Black Tom was a well known, and many times damned, neighbor of the

Point House. This was a large rock which lay almost in the middle of the

channel, which at this point came close in to the western shore; at low

water it was just covered, and one of the amusements of the boys was to

step on the rock from a boat, when the person so doing had the

appearance of walking on the water. But what was not so amusing, at

least to the river men, was for a boat to run on the rock when the tide

was falling. The canal boats which carried bricks or coal above

frequently fell victims and, as every one knows how earnestly a rusty

canaler talks when excited, there is no need to attempt a reproduction

here.

It seemed natural to step from Green Island to the Point House and now,

having disposed of the latter, we shall go back as far as the Gully

road.

THE KING PROPERTY.

Just at the bend of the road on the north side stood, within the memory

of man, a pump which was long a popular warm weather resort. This was on

the old King property. Just when the first King came here, or where

from, has not been ascertained; all we know is that a Jasper King was

living at the junction of the Gully and River roads, an old man, at the

time of the Revolution, and that his son, whose name is not now

recalled, was a soldier under General Anthony Wayne and was killed in

action. He is said to have been one of those who crossed the Delaware

with Washington.

This son left one child, a son named Jasper, born July 18, 1775, who was

brought up by his grandfather. Because of the confusion of tongues due

to the similarity of name, the younger Jasper was nicknamed “Poddy”,

this being a sort of explanatory title which is supposed to have

described his midship section.

This grandson enlisted for the War of 1812 and was stationed at Sandy

Hook, he never saw active service in the field, but served his time out

and was honorably discharged. He married Phœbe Budd, January 6, 1795,

and about 1817 built the house which formerly stood in the bend of the

road. Mrs. Henry Davis, a granddaughter of this Jasper, recalls having

heard her mother relate how, when Jasper was a very young child, he was

taken by his mother to see the husband and father off to the war, and

how the mother lifted him up so that the father, who was on horseback,

could kiss the child good-bye. The father was killed in action and the

child never saw him again.

The poorly shod condition of the soldiers at this time led to the

throwing of their caps in the snow to stand in while waiting for the

order to march. (This same tradition has also been handed down in the

Phillips family, as noted elsewhere).

A story current in the King family indicates that a detachment of

British or Hessian troops was camped at one time near the King house.

For it is told how the young child Jasper was induced by these soldiers

to bring them apples and potatoes from his grandfather’s cellar. He was

too young to appreciate what he was doing, but the grandfather soon

caught him at it, and put a stop to it. This story would indicate that

the invaders were not always such merciless marauders as is generally

supposed. The orchard from which these apples came was situated on the

Gibbs’ hill and was noted for the fine quality of its fruit.

The last Jasper, who died October 1, 1854, had two sons, William and

John, and eight daughters. John was a ship-builder, his yard being

located in North Belleville. William was a brass molder and later had a

sash and blind factory in Newark; he was noted as a temperance lecturer

and traveled the country over in the cause.

A REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENT.

One of the incidents of the Revolutionary period had somewhat to do with

the King house. A son of Joseph Hedden, Jr., “the martyr patriot” of

Newark, escaped from his father’s house while the British soldiers were

dragging the senior out of his bed and into the street. The boy, though

but half clad, jumped from a window and ran to the Passaic river at

Lombardy street and up the river on the ice and snow to the Gully road.

He stopped at the older King house for information and such scant

clothing as they could afford to share with him and, believing that the

soldiers were after him left by the Gully road for the Long Hill or

Bloomfield road, where he found refuge in the house of a friend named

Morris and was furnished with stimulants, food and clothing, and had his

frozen feet treated.

The King house was later included in the Gibbs purchase and was occupied

by the gardener employed by Mr. Gibbs, and while so used it was

destroyed by fire. Mrs. Gibbs remembers the building as a typical old

frame farm house snuggled down under the shelter of the hill, embowered

in roses and so picturesquely situated as to make her long for the

simple life.

BURIED TREASURE.

There have been many stories in the past of Captain Kidd and his buried

treasure, and there has been much digging in the fields hereabout by

those who would acquire riches without due process of labor, but the

only find that I have heard of occurred where the Gully road joins the

River road.

The building of the Erie Railroad necessitated a change where the Gully

becomes the River road, and a strip some eighty feet wide was lopped off

the Gibbs property. When the fence was moved back certain articles of

silver were dug up by the workmen in the slender triangle which now lies

between the drive and the railroad. The matter was kept quiet,

presumably through fear that the stuff would be claimed, and the pieces

disappeared before any one could inspect them.

Where this occurred would have been just in front of the older King

house and it is possible that these articles were family treasures

buried during the Revolution in fear of a British raid.

WHEN BRITON MET BRITON.

A story has come down from the elders to the effect that at some point

in the game of war two detachments of British troops were foraging in

this region apparently each “unbeknownst” to the other, for the legend

has it that while one was on the River road nearly opposite Jasper

King’s, the other, which was on higher ground, mistook them for the

enemy and fired a volley among them, whereupon the hirelings rushed for

the cover of the river bank, which was much higher then than now, and in

their excitement threw their guns into the river. Some of these guns

were recovered after the war by fishermen.

THORNHILL.

What has been known to most of those now living as the Gibbs house is an

imposing brown stone edifice which was built by Governor Pennington for

his daughter Mary when she became the wife of Hugh Toler. In due time

the place was sold to Mr. Alfred H. Gibbs, and has since been known as

Thornhill. It was a sightly place with the river at its feet.

THE TERHUNE PLACE.

The next place north was that known of late as the Terhune place, which

stands just above the Riverside station. The original dweller on or near

this site is said to have been a Maverick, but nothing more than this is

known. Then came one Matthew Banks who, according to story, was so lazy

that he hoed his corn on horseback. Mr. Banks was quite as much

fisherman as farmer, and spent much of his time on the river, and they

do say that the old fellow would turn a penny now and then by selling

herring for shad to the unsophisticated. Older residents tell me that

there was formerly a hill of some altitude between this place and the

river which cut out any view of the water from the house, and to which

children were taken on Fourth of July nights as a vantage point from

which to view the fireworks. Mr. Banks came here about 1820 and was

possibly the last slave owner in this neighborhood. He is said to have

purchased a negro from John Hawthorn, the quarryman, and, when he sold

the place, among the chattels he wished to dispose of was a colored boy

aged 14 years, “used to farm work”.

After Matthew Banks a Mr. Small, who was the head printer in the Daily

Advertiser office, took up his residence here, and following him, if I

have the history right, came Mr. Terhune, who built the present house.

Here also lived Mr. Horace Carter while his own dwelling was building on

the Gully road, and thus we come to modern times.

SANDFORD.

“Second day of July in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred

and ninety-one, Abraham Sandford, Jr., of New Barbadoes Bergen County,

bought from Thomas Eagles and wife Mary a certain parcel of land.

Beginning at the road that leads from Newark to Second river at the east

corner of the land of Abraham Stivers”, etc. So runs the old deed which

announces the advent of the Sandford family on this side of the river.

Captain William Sandford, the original settler of the name in this

country, came from the Barbadoes Islands in 1668 as the representative

of Nathaniel Kingsland “of the same Island of Barbadoes, Esq.” He

purchased “all that Neck of Land lying and being between Pisaick and

Hackingsack Rivers”. The lower seven miles of this tract beginning at

Newark bay and extending to the copper mine, and “Commonly then known by

the name of New Barbadoes” fell in due course to Captain Sandford. The

Captain was a noted man in his day. In 1682 he was commissioned Attorney

of the Province, in 1699 he was appointed by Governor Carteret one of

his two deputy governors during the absence of the Governor in England;

he was for years in the Governor’s Council and prominent in affairs of

church and state.

The Abraham Sandford, Jr., who was the first of the name to settle on

the west bank of the Passaic, was a great-great-grandson of William

Sandford. He built the house (1794-5) which still stands, but in a

greatly remodeled condition, just below and opposite the Point House,

and which is to-day occupied by his grandchildren. As the family grew

and multiplied this particular branch was known as the “Pine Tree

Sandfords”, owing to the fact that a magnificent tree of the species

long flourished near the dwelling.

The tract originally purchased by Abraham Sandford, Jr., comprised about

thirty acres, extending to the Back road. In 1801 he added to his

possessions by purchasing the river front from Simeon Stivers, and in

1817 bought an adjoining half acre from Stewart Elder. Abraham, Jr., had

three children: Susan, Maria and Abraham A. The son married Charity

Yansen, whose father was a soldier of the Revolution; they resided on

the homestead; their children were Elizabeth M., Emma L., Mary O. and

Frank. The first and last of these still live in the old house.

POLLY VAN WINKLE.

Polly Van Winkle was one of the picturesque figures of the River road

some two or three generations ago. The neighbors appear to have stood in

some fear of her lest she take offense and vent her displeasure by

setting fire to their property; thus she came and went much as it

pleased her. She appears to have had no home of her own, but carried all

her worldly goods in a pack on her back, and when she appeared at some

door it was to walk in and make herself at home, declining to go no

matter how broad the hints that were dropped. She never wished a bed,

always preferring to sleep on the floor close to her bundle, which was

never allowed to leave her sight.

MUNN.

Next as we progress northward is the Munn house.

The Munns came to America from England or Wales, and were among the

early Newark settlers from New England. Captain Benjamin Munn of

Hartford, Conn., served in the Pequot Indian War of 1637. He removed

to Springfield, 1649; was probably killed by the Indians, 1675. His

two sons, John and James, were in the Indian fight at Turners Falls,

1676. John settled in Westfield, died 1684, leaving a widow and two

sons, John and Benjamin. The widow married, 1686, John Richards, the

schoolmaster of Westfield, and removed with him and her two boys to

Deerfield, where his house was burned in the destruction of the town

by the French and Indians in 1704. A few years afterward he removed to

Newark, N. J., where he was the schoolmaster in 1718. His stepson,

John Munn, married Mary, sister of John Richards and widow of John

Ward, about 1720, and had Joseph, Samuel and Benjamin. Benjamin was

born 1730 and died 1818—lived all his life on his farm, now the town

of East Orange. Two of his sons, David and Amos, served in the

Revolutionary War. After the war Amos married a daughter of Silas Dod

and settled in Bloomfield—died in 1808, leaving Silas and other

children. Silas continued his business till 1825, when he removed with

his wife and two boys, William Alonzo and Bethuel, to the old Col. Van

Cortland place on the Passaic, just below the mouth of Second river.

Here he resided five years—1825-1830—during which time his son Henry

Benson and daughter Emeline were born. He then moved to Belleville,

where he lost his daughter Emeline, and where his son Silas, Jr., was

born.

In 1850 he purchased the Van Emburgh place, consisting of four or five

acres, opposite the old Point House.

This tract was conveyed on June 7, 1790, by Gaspars Van Winkle and wife

and Aurentee Due, heirs of Gideon and Mary Smith, to Abraham Van

Emburgh. Most of the property remained in the Van Emburgh family until

sold to Silas Munn, March 16, 1850. At this time there were two small

dwellings on the land, one was moved back and converted into a barn, the

other was moved, remodeled and added to in 1893 and is still standing.

Here Silas died in 1873.

The children of Silas were William Alonzo, Bethuel, Silas, Henry Benson

and Emeline. William Alonzo married a sister of John Boyd of Woodside,

and removed to New York; his second wife was Hannah Wilson, with whom he

removed to Milwaukee, where he died in 1876. Bethuel married Sarah,

another sister of John Boyd, and after the death of his mother, in 1866,

occupied the house on the River road until his decease in 1899. Henry

Benson studied law, moved to Madison and Portage City, Wis., of which

latter place he was elected mayor, and from which he was sent to the

Legislature. He finally removed to Washington, D. C., where he still

resides; he has owned the homestead for many years. Silas, Jr., followed

civil engineering, went west and finally settled on a farm near Grant

City, Mo., where he now resides.

THE MELIUS HOUSE.

Next in order stands the Esley Melius house. Old deeds in the possession

of Mr. Theo. Melius tell us that on December 11, 1799, Abraham Van

Emburgh and Rhoda, his wife, sold to John P. Sandford for the sum of

$3.84, at a place called Belleville, a part of a water lot, which the

said Abraham Van Emburgh purchased from Elisha Boudinot, Esqr., by a

deed bearing date November 12, 1799; this adjoined the lot “now

conveyed” to Charles Hedenburgh.

March 20, 1866, John I. Sandford and Rhoda, his wife; Asa Torry and

Mary, his wife; Catherine Udall and Sarah Hopson quitclaimed the above

water lot to Rachael Sandford, this being part of the real estate of the

late John P. Sandford.

March 20, 1860, Rachael Sandford deeded the above water lot to Ezra

Gould for the sum of $500.

These transfers show the ownership of the waterfront of the Melius place

since 1799, and possibly some time before that date.

The north part of the present Melius house was erected by John Stimis,

probably at the same time that he erected his own house, just above,

1805. Amos Munn, son of Benjamin, of East Orange, and father of Silas

Munn, ancestor of the River road branch, born 1763, died 1808, was at

the time of his death building a dwelling on the lot now occupied by the

Foster Home; his executors exchanged the unfinished building for a

two-acre lot, which is now part of the Melius homestead. In 1811 the

executors sold the lot to Jean Baptiste Bacque. Later there dwelt here

one Hedenburgh, if I am correctly informed; then a Vincent whose

daughter, Dorcas, married Gilbert Pullinger—the Pullinger reign lasted

from 1830 to 1836. Mrs. Pullinger appears to have been a character with

more loves than come to most of us. After her came the Duncans, a Zeiss,

William Patterson, Ezra Gould and Esley Melius.

By a deed dated October 1, 1853, John R. Sked and Sarah C., his wife,

sold the property, which was in shape like the letter L, and which

inclosed on two sides the property of Charles Daugherty, to Ezra Gould,

subject to several mortgages held by William Patterson and others. And

on May 1, 1857, Charles Daugherty and Rachael, his wife, sold to Ezra

Gould a lot purchased in 1849 from William Patterson, which squared the

Gould property.

April 12, 1866, Peter M. Myers and wife sold the Ezra Gould property to

Sarah A. Melius, wife of Esley Melius, and the property has since

remained in the Melius family.

Mrs. Melius was a daughter of Samuel Rust, the inventor of the

Washington press, which was the foundation on which the great firm of R.

Hoe & Co. was builded. The daughter received the best education that the

times afforded girls, being placed first at a leading school in

Poughkeepsie, then at the West Point Academy on Lake Champlain, and was

given a finishing polish at Mrs. Jackson’s school on Broadway, New York,

which was located just above Prince street on the site later occupied by

the Metropolitan Hotel. She was a woman of strong convictions and was in

her day a magazine writer of some note.

There is a story current that Mrs. Melius once held the Erie Railroad up

at the point of her parasol by standing in the middle of the track and

shaking that weapon at the approaching engine, which naturally stopped

all a-tremble, whereupon the lady climbed on board a car and enjoyed a

ride to New York. Just how much of this is fact and how much is fancy is

not altogether clear at this distance.

STIMIS FAMILY TRADITIONS.

The next house that can claim the dignity of age is that built about

1805 by Mr. John Stimis, son of Christopher, and occupied during our

early days by Col. Gilbert W. Cumming, and at present by the Andersons.

Christopher Stimis was the first of the name to settle in this

neighborhood. He came some time before the Revolution, from a place then

known as Weasel which, according to the Erskin Map No. 82 (made for the

use of General Washington during the Revolution), was situated along the

Passaic river, west side, some 3-4 miles north of the “Achquackhenonk”

bridge (the present town of Passaic).

Christopher married a daughter of the house of Coeyman and built his

home, on land that had come to his wife from her father’s estate, a few

hundred feet north of the present Melius house. When the Revolutionary

war came Christopher enlisted, and while in the army took a heavy cold

and died of hasty consumption.

Christopher had two sons, John (1) and Henry (1).

John (1) had five sons: John, Peter, Christopher, Henry and William (the

latter is the only one of this generation now living).

Henry (1), who lived in the old homestead just south of John, had four

sons: John, Abraham, James and Thomas.

The above information comes from Mr. William Stimis, now 87 years of

age, a grandson of Christopher. His memory is clear and he is quite

certain of his facts.

While the first Stimis did not keep a tavern in the ordinary sense, he

did know how to brew beer, and for many years the house was a stopping

place for thirsty souls. Even as late as the Revolution the brewing of

beer was continued, for I am informed that the place was frequented both

by Hessians from across the river and by such Continental soldiers as

happened in the neighborhood.

HESSIANS BURY LOOT.

There is a story which has been handed down in the Stimis family to the

effect that some Hessians, while on this side, were hard pressed by a

superior force of Americans, and in their haste to get away were

compelled to bury certain treasure or loot of some sort in the field

back of the Stimis house, toward Washington avenue. This treasure has

been dug for within my own recollection, but so far as known was never

found. The Hessians also left behind in the Stimis house some muskets

and a camp kettle which are still in the possession of members of the

family.

OLD TWO BOTTLES.

One of the characters of the River road some fifty or more years ago was

“General” James or “Old Two Bottles”, as he was more familiarly known.

General James was a shoemaker who lived under the bank, two hundred feet

or so below the limekiln; in fact at about the spot known to my youth as

“the Cedars”, where we boys learned to swim and had our clothes tied in

knots to a chant which, as I remember it, went something like this:—

“Chaw roast beef,

The beef was tough;

Poor little nigger,

He couldn’t get enough.”

By wetting the article of clothing and pulling hard two boys could draw

tight a knot which took both hands and all the teeth the owner of the

aforementioned article had to work loose.

The General lived near the water’s edge in a little hut of stone and

wood. The old shanty leaked so that when the rain fell he and his wife

sought refuge under the family umbrella, so the story goes.

Near his house was a spring of good water, but what interested the youth

of the neighborhood more was the legend of a cave close by where Captain

Kidd is said to have stowed treasure. This was supposed to be at a spot

where were more stones than nature would seem properly to have gathered

together, and this the boys would now and then pry into, but so far as

known nothing came of it but an occasional backache.

Presumably his close contact with the river bred a contempt for water

that became more and more pronounced as the old fellow advanced in

years, when to the few who can now recall him he was a well known

character. Possibly he once drank some water which did not agree with

him—possibly he supposed it was only intended for the floating of boats

(none has as yet made this point clear), but, whatever the cause, our

friend was very particular not to tamper with his constitution by

drinking any more of the stuff. Hence the jug which was his constant

companion when visiting Newark.

The General had a private path, just above the reach of high tide, which

came out on the main road near the Point House, and every Saturday

afternoon wife Rachael and he would journey southward. They always

walked single file, the old lady some fifty to one hundred feet in the

rear—presumably this was to insure the safety of the jug, a rear guard,

as it were, to protect the supplies, a precautionary measure which would

naturally occur to a military man.

Possibly our “General” was a veteran of the war with nature: that

certainly is a satisfactory way to account for his title. Just how he

came by the secondary title of “Old Two Bottles” is not quite clear, but

it is said that it was the result of high words in the family. Mrs.

General, it seems, longed for something more substantial than the rear

to guard, and appears to have made an unwelcome suggestion that two

bottles would be better than one jug and, being some distance behind the

conversation was carried on in an elevated tone of voice, and as the

General’s rate of locomotion was about a mile an hour the neighbors came

easily by the story.

The General and his wife occupy unmarked graves in the neglected burial

ground above the Weiler house.

THE ALEXANDER PLACE.

The next house of which there is any memory was a brick structure at the

southwest corner of the River and Division roads. This was the property

of, and presumably built by, “Jim” Alexander (James G. Alexander?), who

came from Newark and passed the place many times as he drove the stage

from Newark to Belleville. Alexander was a North of Ireland man who came

to Belleville after a brief sojourn in Paterson. For a time he drove a

stage between Belleville and New York, and also between Belleville and

Newark. He married a Coeyman and thus came into possession of a farm

which extended from Grafton avenue south to the Henry Stimis place, and

from the river back to Summer avenue. He is said to have run the

limekiln at one time.

Alexander’s house burned and he removed to Belleville, where he became

somewhat eccentric, parading the streets barefoot and with a silk hat on

his head, in which costume he would preach whenever the curious were

willing to form a congregation. There are stories current which indicate

that he had a ready wit and a tongue sharper than a two-edged sword.

THE LIME KILN.

We have come to the Division road, now Grafton avenue, so far as this

end of it is concerned. Opposite, on the river bank, stood for many

years the limekiln erected by three Englishmen: Thomas Vernon, Thomas

Farrand and John T. Grice. This performed its offices without doing

serious damage to the landscape. The last to burn lime here was Mr.

Francis Tompkins, but the old Newark Lime & Cement Company was finally

too much for him, and he went under. Between the burnings of lime there

was little activity about the place, and as time went on it became

little more than a picturesque wreck, and thirty years ago or more the

old kiln ceased work entirely. Then came Mr. Benfield who, as some of

his facetious neighbors were fond of saying, had a process for

extracting gold from stone fences. So far as I have any knowledge of the

matter, the process was all right, but it cost more to extract the gold

than it would bring in the open market, and so in a certain sense the

experiment was not a success, and it resulted in the erection of

unsightly buildings which have been added to from time to time by others

who would do things here, until from being a picturesque ruin the place

has grown to be one of the ugliest sights on the river bank.

HOUSES ABOVE GRAFTON AVENUE.

Above Grafton avenue, on the corner, stood the frame house of John

McDonald, who married a Coeyman (he was a calico printer by trade), and

opposite, between road and river, stood a small frame house occupied by

James Coeyman. Above, on the west, was the brick house of Levi Coeyman,

and next the frame house of John DeHush Coeyman, while on the site now

occupied by the large brick house built by Peter Weiler stood the home

of Minard Coeyman, the hive of the Coeymans. Just above, where the brook

crossed the road, was the house of Henry Coeyman, and just beyond that

of John Coeyman, later occupied by William McDonald and by one

Worthington. A cannon ball and numerous Indian relics have been ploughed

up on this property. The last three buildings were torn down by Mr.

Weiler when he built about 1860. The only other house below Second river

was the original Van Cortlandt stone house.

COEYMAN GENEALOGY.

Peter Coeymans of Utrecht, in the Netherlands, had seven children. His

five sons sailed from Holland in the ship Rensselaerswyck, October 1,

1636, and settled in Albany, N. Y. The youngest of the boys was Lucas

Pieterse Coeymans. “May 14th, 9th year of William 3d of England (1698)

Leukes Coeman of the towne of Newark yeoman”, bought of Gerrit Hollaer

of the city of New York, land lying on the Passaic river, in the “toune”

of Newark and County of Essex, “where the said Leukes Coeman now

livith”. This deed was acknowledged January 17, 1699.

The children of Lucas Peterse Coeymans and Arientie, his wife, all of

whom were born in Albany, N. Y., were:—

Geertie Koemans, who married Harmanus Bras, October 5, 1695, at

Hackensack.

Marytie Koeymans, who married Cornelis Tomese, August 8, 1696, at

Hackensack.

Johannes Koeymans, who married Rachel Symen Van Winckle (of

Acquackanonk), March 6, 1708, at Hackensack.

Januetie Koemans, who married Gideon Symen Van Winkle (of Acquackanonk),

March 13, 1708.

Very little has been preserved concerning the Coeyman family, and

probably the only way to trace the line from Johannes down to Minard

would be by a long search of old titles. Minard Coeyman is said to have

served during the Revolution under Colonel Van Cortlandt.

Minard had sons: Henry M., Peter, William, Thomas and John.

Henry M. had a son, James A., whose son, Albert J., now lives in

Belleville.

Peter had sons: Levi and Minard.

EXTENT OF THE COEYMAN POSSESSIONS.

There is a legend in the Coeyman family to the effect that it at one

time owned all the land between Second river and the Gully road, and

that the land purchased by Van Cortlandt was sold to him by a Coeyman.

That, if correct, would carry the property north to Second river. Its

southern boundary has only been traced as far as the present Melius

property. Mr. William Stimis tells me that the first Christopher Stimis

who came here married a Coeyman, who received as her portion of the

estate six acres, which included the land occupied by the late Henry

Stimis and extended to the present Melius property. Mr. William Stimis

thinks that his grandmother, the wife of Christopher, above, was a

daughter of Andrew Coeyman and a sister of Minard Coeyman, but he is not

sure of this. Mr. Daniel F. Tompkins has made the statement that the

Coeyman property once extended from the Gully road to Second river and

westward to include Forest Hill.

A COEYMAN REMINISCENCE.

A Coeyman reminiscence tells how, in order to save their bedding and

household linen from the rapacity of the soldiers it was placed on the

barn floor and covered deep with hay, and how the soldiers came along

and began to use up the hay and the pile went down and down and down,

until there were only four feet between the invaders and discovery, but

at this point the troops left the locality and the bedding remained in

the family.

The army lay on the Coeyman farm long enough to cut down every forest

tree that stood thereon, and all the fine old trees that we knew thirty

years ago are said to have come into being since then. The same story is

told of General Wayne’s troops, who camped along the Back road, and

probably the above refers to this same time.

WASHINGTON MARCHES DOWN THE RIVER ROAD.

November 21, 1776, General Washington and the troops from Fort Lee left

Hackensack by the Pollifly road, crossed over to the old Paramus road

and reached the bridge at Acquackanonk (now the town of Passaic) about

noon. Crossing there the bridge was destroyed to delay the pursuing

British under Cornwallis. On the 22d Washington and 3,500 or more troops

left Acquackanonk for Newark. The forces were divided, some going over

the hill to Bloomfield, the others keeping down the River road and thus

entering Newark.

This was one of the most bitter periods of the Revolutionary struggle;

everything was apparently going against the American cause, and it was a

bedraggled and disheartened company that marched down our River road on

that 22d day of November. Thomas Paine participated in this retreat

across New Jersey, and it was this that inspired his “Crisis”, which

begins: “These are the times that try men’s souls”, and it was at Newark

on November 23d that Washington wrote: “The situation of our affairs is

truly critical, and such as requires uncommon exertion on our part.” The

way in which Washington handled this, as other desperate situations, has

placed him in the front rank of commanders the world over. His “Fabian”

policy of masterly inaction in front of forces vastly superior to his

own, combined with his ability to recognize and take advantage of the

opportunity when it arrived, was marvelous.

Cornwallis did not attempt to cross the river until November 26th.

Apparently he had no wish to capture the American troops, as he spent

something like a week in the Passaic Valley, foraging on the country as

he went, and progressing in a most leisurely manner.

STEPHEN VAN CORTLANDT AT SECOND RIVER.

Stephen Van Cortlandt, twelfth child of Col. Stephanus Van Cortlandt by

his wife, Gertrude Schuyler, was born 11, August, 1695; married 28,

August, 1713, Catalina Staats, daughter of Dr. Samuel Staats by his

first wife, Johanna Rynders. He resided at “Second River” (now

Belleville), Essex County, N. J. Issue:

1. Johanna Van Cortlandt, born 3, February, 1714; died without issue.

2. Gertrude Van Cortlandt, born 23, February, 1715; married Johannes Van

Rensselaer.

3. Stephanus Van Cortlandt, born 19, September, 1716; died without

issue.

4. Samuel Van Cortlandt, born 22, December, 1717; died without issue.

5. John Van Cortlandt, born 16, February, 1721; died 29, June, 1786.

Married Hester Bayard.

6. Philip Van Cortlandt, born in 1725; died 1800 without issue. He

commanded a New Jersey Regiment in the Revolution.

7. Sarah Van Cortlandt died without issue.

John (above) had a son Stephen, born 11, August, 1750, and Stephen had

two daughters—Elizabeth, who married John Van Rensselaer, and Hester,

who married James Van Cortlandt. (The above is from Mrs. Catharine T. R.

Mathews, nee Van Cortlandt, an authority on the family genealogy.)

THE OLD VAN CORTLANDT HOUSE.

The old Van Cortlandt house, which is described below, stood about

midway between Second river and the G. L. R. R. tracks, facing the

Passaic, and also the road, for at that time the highway kept very close

to the water’s edge but, owing to the frequent flooding of this low land

and consequent washouts, the road was finally set back to its present

line. Fifty years ago this was known as the “new” road.

There is some uncertainty as to when this house was built, for if Dr.

Staats gave the house now known as the Belleville Hotel to his daughter

at the time of her marriage, as some think, Stephen Van Cortlandt would

hardly have erected a second dwelling, at least until a son or daughter

married and desired to start a new establishment. During the later years

of its existence the old house is said to have been haunted by a ghost

nine feet high and hump-backed, and the place had an uncanny

reputation—misfortune was said to follow its tenants. Old residents told

of skeletons in its musty closets, and one of the Van Cortlandt family

is said to have become insane while living here, but what the tragedy

was, if any, has not been recorded.

NOTES ON THE VAN CORTLANDT PLACE.

Mr. Silas Munn says in his fragmentary diary that when he moved into the

old Van Cortlandt house many people said that it was the abode of

“hobgoblins” and that ill fortune followed its occupants—then followed

the statement that at the end of two years he was taken down with

malarial fever—lost a flock of sheep—two valuable horses, one of which

was killed by a foul with another on the road, and lost so much money in

his business that he was obliged to suspend and take boarders. Bad luck

seemed to follow all its subsequent occupants till finally, in 1878, the

old house was destroyed by fire.

The house was after the pattern of those built by the Dutch farmers at

an early day. A broad hall ran through the centre, at either end were

heavy doors, divided horizontally, so that only one-half need be opened

at a time and thus leave the occupant free to talk with a caller without

intrusion. A broad garden extended from the road to the house, a

spacious barn was nearby, while orchards of rare apples and pears

extended on either side and on the opposite side of the road was another

orchard of fine fruit. The property in 1829 adjoined that of Minard

Coeyman. It was then known as the estate of Colonel Van Cortlandt. Silas

Munn, under date of September 2, 1829. writes that he was requested by

Minard Coeyman to attend with G. Dow and fix the line between his land

and that of the estate of Van Cortlandt, when it was found that the

estate had inclosed 300 rods of Coeyman’s land.

ADVICE TO GIRLS WHO WOULD MARRY.

The first Mrs. John Van Rensselaer, who has been heard by Mrs. Kay to

say that she was married in the house south of Second river, used to

caution the young girls of her acquaintance against too long delay and

overmuch prinking, and she was somewhat fond of citing herself and her

sister as examples.

It seems that when John Van Rensselaer came down from Albany to spy out

the land and its fair daughters, he came to the Van Cortlandt house,

where the two girls were living, and word was brought upstairs to the

young ladies that the gentleman was below awaiting them. Whereupon

“Bess” was for going down immediately, dressed as she was, but the

sister, thinking that a few more furbelows would add to her charms,

remained behind and spent a half hour or so before the glass.

This, of course, gave “Bess” an opportunity with the visitor which she

improved to such good purpose that the matter of the future Mrs. Van

Rensselaer was practically settled by the time the much beautified

sister appeared on the scene. The story I have from Mrs. Mary E. Tucker

who, when a girl, was told the incident by Mrs. Van Rensselaer herself.

JOHN VAN RENSSELAER II.

About 1830 an Englishman named Duxbury was living in the Van Cortlandt

house. He had been brought over to act as general superintendent of the

print works. John Van Rensselaer, whose father married Elizabeth Van

Cortlandt, became very much interested in Margaret Duxbury, and they

were finally married. Thus two John Van Rensselaers in succession went

to the old house for their brides; the children of John 2d were James,

Cortlandt and Catherine.

WHAT AN OLD MAP SHOWS.

On the Erskin map No. 79, known as “From Newark, through Acquackononk to

Gothum” this house is marked “storehouse”, while to the house north of

Second river (now the Belleville Hotel) is attached the name of Stephen

Van Cortlandt.

This same map shows the old Coeyman house to have been occupied by

Hendrick Coeyman; another house just north of this is not named, and

these three are the only houses noted on this map on the River road

between Second river and the Gully road, though the old Stimis house

must have been standing at this time, and it is probable that the first

King house was also then in existence.

CANNON BALLS FROM THE RIVER.

Mr. James S. Taylor tells me that in hauling for shad on the reef just

below Second river, which was formerly only two feet under water at low

tide, it was no uncommon thing to scoop up occasional shells from the

bottom of a bigness of three to four inches in diameter. The Decatur

Powder Works were formerly situated just above on the north bank of

Second river, and whether these shells were a relic of that institution

or were some reminiscence of the Revolution no one seems to know.

COEYMAN BURIAL GROUND.

But few of the stones are left in the old Coeyman burial ground, which

lies just north of the Weiler house. The following is a complete list of

those standing at the present time:—

Anthony Wauters,

who died April 9, 1800

Aged 52 years

also his wife

Margaret

who died Oct 8, 1802

Aged 52 years

and his daughter

Mary

who died April 23, 1832

Aged 66 years.

O what were all my sufferings here

If, Lord, thou count me meet;

With that enraptur’d host to appear

And worship at thy feet.

Rachel Wat——

Departed this life April

17th, 1833

Aged 62 years 1 day

The Lord taketh pleasure ——

that fear him. In those ——

in his mercy.

Peter L. Coeyman.

Died April 6th. 1869, Aged 76 years, 11 mo. and 4 days

Come all my friends as you pass by

As you are now so once was I,

As I am now so you must be,

Prepare yourselves to follow me.

In memory of James,

son of Minard and Catherine Coeman who

died August 5th, 1801, aged 1 year, 10 mos. and 7 days

Minard Coeyman died November 12, 1833, aged 75

years and five months.

Catherine, his wife, died July 13, 1841, aged 76 years,

10 months and six days.

Lean not on earth, ’twill

Pierce thee to the heart.

Caroline, daughter of James and Catherine Alexander,

died October 1st, 1841, aged 1 year, 6 mos. and 9 days.

Levi Holden. 1806

Sacred to the memory of Thomas Holden, oldest son of Levi and Hannah

Holden, who was born in Massachusetts on the 5th day of September,

1779, and departed this life 20th day of May, 1820, after a very

protracted and severe illness. Aged 40 years, 8 mo. and 15 days.

His heart is no longer the seat

Of trouble and torturing pain;

It ceases to flutter and beat,

It never shall flutter again.

The lids that he seldom could close,

By anguish forbidden to sleep,

Sealed up in the sweetest repose,

Have strangely forgotten to weep.

His soul has now taken its flight

To mansions of glory above,

To mingle with angels of light,

And dwell in the Kingdom of love.

L. H. In memory of Levi Holden, son of Thomas and Anne Holden, who

was born in Massachusetts August 19th, 1799. Drowned 19th July,

1806.

When Christ, who is our Life, shall appear,

Then shall ye also appear with him in glory.

O grave where is thy sting,

O death where is thy victory.

John MacDonald

Born Jan. 3, 1820, Died May 30, 1881.

With heavenly weapons I have fought

The battles of the Lord,

Finished my course and kept the faith

And wait the sure reward.

Frank H. Smith

Died December 2, 1885, Aged 14 years and 2 days.

Carrie A. Smith,

Died November 8th, 1888, Aged 10 years and 11 mos.

INDIAN RELICS.

The New Jersey Historical Society has in its possession two Indian stone

hatchets and a number of arrow points which were dug from the river bank

300 to 500 feet above Grafton avenue by Mr. William Jackson. Indian

relics have been dug up at numerous points along the River road.

A MYSTERY SOLVED.

About 1837 there was much mystery concerning a certain “Button” factory

on Second river, near the Passaic, which was run by one Thomas Thomas.

Twice each year a vessel would ascend the Passaic and drop anchor

opposite Grafton avenue; no one ever came ashore from her, and all sorts

of rumors were spread in regard to her. Some said she was a smuggler,

others a pirate. After nightfall there were mysterious trips from the

“Button” factory to the schooner, men trundled heavy casks down to the

water’s edge and these were transferred to the vessel which, in due

time, sailed away with the awful secret buried deep in her hold.

It seems that Thomas was engaged in manufacturing money which was sent

to Brazil. Mr. William Stimis, who ran the milling machine in the

“Button” factory states that copper coins of two sizes were made. One

marked “40” was the size of a silver half dollar, and one marked “80”

the size of a dollar. Jos. Gardner was engaged to engrave the dies. The

place was raided two or three times on the theory that counterfeiting

was going on, and Gardner was arrested at least once.

ADDITIONAL ON THE VAN CORTLANDT HOME.