The territory now occupied by Elizabeth, N. J., was formerly the abode
of savage tribes unknown to fame; whence they came and how long they had
dwelt on these shores are questions that neither authentic history nor
plausible tradition pretends to answer. They have since passed away
without memorial.
It was on Sunday, the 6th day of September, 1609, that the eye of the
stranger from the old world first saw this site. Three days before, a
two-masted schooner called the _Half Moon_, under the command of the
renowned Henry Hudson, cast anchor in Sandy Hook bay. The adventurous
craft was manned by twenty men, Dutch and English, in the service of the
East India Company. Their design was to explore a passage to China and
the Indies by the northwest.
On Sunday, the 6th, John Coleman and four other men were sent out in a
boat to explore the harbor, sailing through the narrows that they found.
The narrow river through which they sailed was the Kills between Bergen
Point and Staten Island and the open sea was Newark bay. The site of the
town that bordered on the bay was, of course, in full view. These five
men are believed to have been the first European discoverers of this
particular spot. Coleman was slain the same day, on his return, by the
treacherous arrow of one of the natives. It is not at all unlikely that
Coleman was an Irishman, as his name bears the Celtic tone, and as there
is nothing to verify it to the contrary.
The most distinguished man of Irish descent who identified himself
completely with this old city was the Rev. James Caldwell, the eighth
pastor of the First Presbyterian church. The Rev. Mr. Caldwell was a
Virginian. His father, John Caldwell, came to this country with four
sisters and his wife and several children, from the County Antrim,
Ireland—what year is unknown to the writer. He settled first at Chestnut
Level, Lancaster county, Pennsylvania.
Soon after, he removed to the new settlements in the southern part of
Virginia and located on Cub creek, a branch of the Staunton river, in
what is now known as Charlotte county. Here in the wilderness, James,
the subject of this sketch, the youngest of seven children, was born in
April, 1734. The place was generally known as the Caldwell Settlement or
Cub Creek. A daughter of one of his brothers, also born here, was the
mother of the Hon. John Caldwell Calhoun of South Carolina, the
well-known senator and leading statesman of the South.
James was prepared for college under Rev. John Todd Caldwell and entered
the College of New Jersey. He came hither when the college was at Newark
and formed the acquaintance, while there, of a young maiden to whom he
was afterwards married. He graduated in September, 1759, and on Sept.
17, 1760, he was ordained. He received a call from the Presbyterian
church of this town in November, 1761, which he accepted. He was duly
installed in March, 1762, with an annual salary of £160. He was at that
time in the twenty-seventh year of his age, a young man of prepossessing
appearance and of more than ordinary promise as a preacher of the
gospel. In the year of 1775 charges were preferred to the Presbytery by
former members of the congregation affecting the orthodoxy of their
pastor, Mr. Caldwell, which, however, were found to be of trivial import
and not affecting at all his soundness in the faith. Whatever uneasiness
may have grown out of this matter, it was speedily forgotten in the rush
of events that preceded and precipitated the War of the Revolution.
On the question then at issue Mr. Caldwell’s position was a matter of
public knowledge. He waited not to learn how the struggle was likely to
terminate; his ardent temperament was for his country, for liberty, for
independence. In all his prayers, often in his sermons and exhortations,
and in all his pastoral intercourse, no religious society in the land
took a bolder move or stand, and few were more efficient for their
country’s cause than Reverend Caldwell and his congregation. And not a
little of this patriotism was owing to the fervent zeal of their pastor.
Among his congregation at the commencement of the Revolution were such
men as William Livingston, governor of the state; Elias Boudinot,
afterwards president of the Continental Congress; Abraham Clark, one of
the signers of the Declaration of Independence; Hon. Robert Ogden,
speaker of the assembly at an earlier day, with his three sons, Robert,
Matthias and Aaron (the two last distinguished officers in the United
States army); Hon. Stephen Crane, speaker of the assembly; Elias Dayton
and his son Jonathan, both of them subsequently general officers of the
army and the latter, speaker of congress. From this one congregation
went forth about forty commissioned officers and privates to fight the
battles for independence.
Among the men belonging to the militia of Elizabeth who enlisted on
board of the different sloops as volunteers, in order to take the ship
_Blue Mountain Valley_, January 22, 1776, under the command of Colonel
Dayton, are to be found the following good old Irish names: Sergeant
Thomas Quigley, Thomas McCarty, Timothy B. Stout, James Clancey, Timothy
Burns, Moses Connell and William Higgins.
Among the commissioned officers of Reverend Caldwell’s congregation in
the army are found a Capt. David Lyons, and Capt. Matthias Lyons, Irish
or of Irish descent, without a doubt.
In April, 1776, Colonel Dayton’s regiment, that had been quartered in
the town during the preceding winter, received orders to march to the
relief of the Northern army then besieging Quebec. As most of the
officers and many of the privates were members of Reverend Caldwell’s
congregation, an ardent desire was expressed for his services as their
chaplain.
Lieutenant Elmer in his diary, April 28, says: “Members of the
Presbyterian meeting set about Reverend Caldwell’s going to Quebec with
us, which was agreed upon after some debate. Drank tea at Colonel
Dayton’s, then went to Major Spencer’s to lodge.” So it was determined
that Reverend Caldwell, whose consent was readily obtained, should
accompany his townsmen on their Northern expedition.
The troops left the town the following day, but Colonel Dayton and
Reverend Caldwell did not join them until Saturday, May 11, at Albany,
N. Y. The Jersey Brigade to which the regiment was attached was
stationed the most of the season in the Mohawk valley. On the 16th of
June Reverend Caldwell was at Johnstown and at German Flats in July,
preaching twice every Sunday and taking an active part in military
operations.
In July, as already related, the British troops had taken possession of
Staten Island. The people of the town became greatly alarmed for their
personal safety, and their relatives in the Northern army became
exceedingly anxious for their friends at home.
Reverend Caldwell returned to his family and people early in the autumn,
where his services were pressingly needed. On the retreat of the
American, and the advance of the British, army the last week of
November, 1776, Reverend Caldwell took his family up into the mountains
and found a home for them in the town of New Providence. From this time
forward Reverend Caldwell was occupied more or less continually in the
service of his country to the close of his life.
The enemy having vacated the town at the end of the first week in
January, he returned to his charge and resumed his ministrations,
mingling the duties of the pastor and the soldier together. At various
times through the long years of the war, during which his congregation
were greatly scattered and their means of subsistence for the most part
considerably diminished, Reverend Caldwell served not only as chaplain
of the Jersey Brigade but as assistant commissary-general from the first
of April, 1777, to April, 1779. Instead of a regular salary, he received
for his pastoral service only what was contributed by the congregation
on Sunday.
His church was burned down on the night of Tuesday, January 25, 1780,
and the services of the congregation were thenceforth held in Colonel
Hatfield’s red storehouse. It is probably while preaching here, or it
may have been at an earlier date, that Reverend Caldwell (as related by
Reverend McDowell) preached with his pistols lying on each side of him
in the pulpit, and the sentinels had to keep watch during time of
service.
The Sunday found him, whether at home or in camp, ready to proclaim the
gospel with its message of mercy and comfort to his fellow men, while he
was ever watchful at other times to improve every opportunity to promote
the spiritual welfare of citizens and soldiers. He was held, therefore,
in the highest esteem by officers and men, confided in by all, and
regarded with enthusiastic love by the rank and file. No one,
consequently, save his parishioner, Governor Livingston, was more feared
and hated by the Tories and the British. Gladly would they have
kidnapped him if they could.
At the fall ejection of 1780 he was chosen by his fellow-citizens a
member of the State Council. He continued in the discharge of his
various duties to which he was called until the autumn of 1781. The last
record made of him by the Presbytery was at their meeting, May 7, 1782.
It is in these words: “The Rev. James Caldwell departed this life,
falling by the hands of a cruel murderer on the twenty-fourth day of
Nov., 1781.” The circumstances attending this mournful event were very
fully announced in the public prints at the time. Rivington of New York,
in his _Gazette_ (a Tory journal of that time), said: “The Rev. Caldwell
was shot dead without any provocation at the Point (now Elizabethport)
by a native of Ireland named Morgan.” Note the sting this allegation
placed to an Irish name.
The _New Jersey Journal_ and the _New Jersey Gazette_ devoted much space
to the murder at the time, but they never mentioned the murderer’s name
nor claimed him to have been Irish. These are the only accounts written
and published at the time. As that of the _New Jersey Gazette_ is the
most particular and was written after sufficient time had been allowed
to obtain by means of the coroner’s inquest, and from other sources, the
exact state of the case, it is apparently the most to be relied upon. It
was generally affirmed at the time that the murderer, as intimated in
the _New Jersey Journal_, was bribed by the British enemy to do the
dreadful deed. And it is not strange that it should have been believed,
as it was known that the British had offered a reward for the
apprehension or assassination of Governor Livingston, and as no other
reason could be assigned for the murder.
The body of Rev. Mr. Caldwell was carried to the public house at the
Point, now Red Jacket Hotel. A homely ambulance was obtained and the
body was slowly brought to town. A crowd of people, greatly excited,
gathered by the way. The mournful cortege, tradition says, passed
through Water street, now Elizabeth avenue, to Broad street; then to
Jersey street; and then to the residence of Mrs. Noll. The day
following, when the people gathered for public worship, the place where
they met might well have been named “Bochim, the Weeping Place.” The
people were crushed under the sad calamity.
The funeral service was held on Tuesday, the 27th, the whole town
suspending all business and gathering in uncontrollable grief at the
house of Mrs. Noll. An opportunity was given to the people to view the
corpse in front of the house in the open street. After all had taken
their last look and before the coffin was closed, Dr. Boudinot came
forward leading nine orphan children, and placing them around the bier
of the parent, made an address of surpassing pathos to the multitude in
their behalf. It was an hour of deep sorrow. The procession then slowly
moved to the grave and laid his body by his wife’s remains. Over his
body was placed a marble slab with the following inscription:
“Sacred to the memory of Rev. James Caldwell and Hannah, his wife, who
fell victims to their country’s cause in the year 1781. He was a zealous
and faithful pastor of the Presbyterian church in this town, where, by
his evangelical labors in the gospel vineyard and his early attachment
to the civil liberty of his country, he has left in the hearts of his
people a better monument than brass or marble. Here also lies the
remains of a woman who exhibited to the world a bright constellation of
female virtues. On that memorable day never to be forgotten, when a
British foe invaded this fair village and fired even the Temple of the
Deity, this peaceful daughter of heaven retired to her hallowed
apartment, imploring heaven for the pardon of the enemy,—in that sacred
moment she was by the bloody hand of a British ruffian despatched, like
her divine Redeemer, through a path of blood to her long wished for
native skies.”