THE OLDEN TIME.
Wealth and Rank of the Ancient Families.--Their Vast Landed
Estates.--Distinctions in Dress.--Veneration for the
Patroon.--Kip's Mansion.--Days of the Revolution.--Mr. John
Adams' Journal.--Negro Slavery.--Consequences of the
System.--General Panic.
Many of the families who came from the Old World to the Hudson when
New Netherland was under the Dutch regime, brought with them the
tokens of their former rank and affluence. Valuable paintings adorned
their walls. Rich plate glittered upon their dining table. Obsequious
servants, who had been accustomed in feudal Europe to regard their
masters as almost beings of a superior order, still looked up to them
in the same reverential service. The social distinctions of the old
country very soon began to prevail in the thriving village of New
York. The governor was fond of show and was fully aware of its
influence upon the popular mind. His residence became the seat of
quite a genteel little court.
"The country was parcelled out," writes Rev. Bishop Kip,
"among great proprietors. We can trace them from the city of
New Amsterdam to the northern part of the State. In what is
now the thickly populated city were the lands of the
Stuyvesants, originally the _Bouwerie_ of the old governor.
Next above were the grant to the Kip family, called Kip's
Bay, made in 1638. In the centre of the island was the
possessions of the De Lanceys. Opposite, on Long Island, was
the grant of the Laurence family. We cross over Harlaem
river and reach Morrisania, given to the Morris family.
Beyond this on the East river, was De Lancey's farm, another
grant to that powerful family; while on the Hudson to the
west, was the lower Van Courtland manor, and the Phillipse
manor. Above, at Peekskill, was the upper manor of the Van
Courtlands. Then came the manor of Kipsburg, purchased by
the Kip family from the Indians in 1636, and made a royal
grant by governor Dongan two years afterwards.
"Still higher up was the Van Rensselaer manor, twenty-four
miles by forty-eight; and above that the possession of the
Schuylers. Farther west, on the Mohawk, were the broad lands
of Sir William Johnson, created a baronet for his services
in the old French and Indian wars, who lived in a rude
magnificence at Johnson Hall."
The very names of places in some cases show their history. Such for
instance, is that of Yonkers. The word _Younker_, in the languages of
northern Europe, means the nobly born, the gentleman. In Westchester,
on the Hudson river, still stands the old manor house of the Phillipse
family. The writer remembers in his early days when visiting there,
the large rooms and richly ornamented ceilings, with quaint old formal
gardens about the house. When before the revolution, Mr. Phillipse
lived there, lord of all he surveyed, he was always spoken of by his
tenantry as the Yonker, the gentleman, _par excellence_. In fact he
was the only person of social rank in that part of the country. In
this way the town, which subsequently grew up about the old manor
house, took the name of Yonkers.
The early settlement of New England was very different in its
character. Nearly all the emigrants were small farmers, upon social
equality, cultivating the fields with their own hands. Governors
Carver and Bradford worked as diligently with hoe and plough as did
any of their associates. They were simply first among equals.
"The only exception to this," writes Mr. Kip,
"which we can remember was the case of the Gardiners of
Maine. Their wide lands were confiscated for their loyalty.
But on account of some informality, after the Revolution,
they managed to recover their property and are still seated
at Gardiner."
For more than a century these distinguished families in New Netherland
retained their supremacy undisputed. They filled all the posts of
honor and emolument. The distinctions in society were plainly marked
by the dress. The costume of the gentleman was very rich. His coat of
glossy velvet was lined with gold lace. His flowing sleeves and
ruffled cuffs gave grace to all the movements of his arms and hands.
Immense wigs adorned his brow with almost the dignity of Olympian
Jove. A glittering rapier, with its embossed and jewelled scabbard,
hung by his side.
The common people in New Netherland, would no more think of assuming
the dress of a gentleman or lady, than with us, a merchant or mechanic
would think of decorating himself in the dress of a Major-General in
the United States army. There was an impassable gulf between the
peasantry and the aristocracy. The laborers on these large Dutch
estates were generally poor peasants, who had been brought over by the
landed proprietors, passage free. They were thus virtually for a
number of years, slaves of the _patroon_, serving him until, by their
labor, they had paid for their passage money. In the language of the
day they were called Redemptioners. Often the term of service of a
man, who had come over with his family, amounted to seven years.
"This system," writes Mr. Kip,
"was carried out to an extent of which most persons are
ignorant. On the Van Rensselaer manor, there were at one
time, several thousand tenants, and their gathering was like
that of the Scottish clans. When a member of the family died
they came down to Albany to do honor at the funeral, and
many were the hogsheads of good ale which were broached for
them. They looked up to the _Patroon_ with a reverence which
was still lingering in the writer's early day,
notwithstanding the inroads of democracy. And before the
Revolution this feeling was shared by the whole country.
When it was announced, in New York, a century ago, that the
Patroon was coming down from Albany by land, the day he was
expected to reach the city, crowds turned out to see him
enter in his coach and four."
The aristocratic Dutchmen cherished a great contempt for the
democratic Puritans of New England. One of the distinguished members
of a colonial family in New York, who died in the year 1740, inserted
the following clause in his will:
"It is my wish that my son may have the best education that
is to be had in England or America. But my express will and
directions are, that he never be sent for that purpose, to
the Connecticut colonies, lest he should imbibe in his
youth, that low craft and cunning, so incidental to the
people of that country, which is so interwoven in their
constitutions, that all their acts cannot disguise it from
the world; though many of them, under the sanctified garb of
religion, have endeavored to impose themselves on the world
as honest men."
Usually once in a year the residents in their imposing manorial homes
repaired, from their rural retreats, to New York to make their annual
purchases. After the country passed into the hands of the English,
several men of high families came over. These all held themselves
quite aloof from the masses of the people. And there was no more
disposition among the commonalty to claim equality with these
high-born men and dames, than there was in England for the humble
farmers to deny any social distinction between themselves and the
occupants of the battlemented castles which overshadowed the peasant's
lowly cot.
Lord Cornbury was of the blood royal. The dress and etiquette of
courts prevailed in his spacious saloons. "About many of their old
country houses," writes Mr. Kip,
"were associations gathered often coming down from the first
settlement of the country, giving them an interest which can
never invest the new residences of those whom later times
elevated through wealth. Such was the Van Courtland
manor-house, with its wainscotted room and guest chamber;
the Rensselaer manor-house, where of old had been
entertained Talleyrand, and the exiled princes from Europe;
the Schuyler house, so near the Saratoga battle-field, and
marked by memories of that glorious event in the life of its
owner; and the residence of the Livingstons, on the banks of
the Hudson, of which Louis Philippe expressed such grateful
recollections when, after his elevation to the throne, he
met, in Paris, the son of his former host."
At Kip's Bay there was a large mansion which for two centuries
attracted the admiration of beholders. It was a large double house
with the addition of a wing. From the spacious hall, turning to the
left, you entered the large dining-saloon. The two front windows gave
you a view of the beautiful bay. The two rear windows opened upon a
pleasant rural landscape. In this dining-room a large dinner party was
held, in honor of Andre the day before he set out upon his fatal
excursion to West Point. In Sargent's, "Life of Andre," we find a very
interesting description of this mansion, and of the scenes witnessed
there in olden time.
"Where now in New York is the unalluring and crowded neighborhood of
Second avenue and Thirty-fifth street, stood, in 1780, the ancient
Bowerie or country seat of Jacobus Kip. Built in 1655, of bricks
brought from Holland, encompassed by pleasant trees and in easy view
of the sparkling waters of Kip's Bay, on the East river, the mansion
remained, even to our own times, in the possession of one of its
founder's line.
"When Washington was in the neighborhood, Kip's house had
been his quarters. When Howe crossed from Long Island on
Sunday, September 15th, 1776, he debarked at the rocky point
hard by, and his skirmishers drove our people from their
position behind the dwelling. Since then it had known many
guests. Howe, Clinton, Kniphausen, Percy were sheltered by
its roof. The aged owner, with his wife and daughter,
remained. But they had always an officer of distinction
quartered with them. And if a part of the family were in
arms for Congress, as is alleged, it is certain that others
were active for the Crown.
"Samuel Kip, of Kipsburg, led a cavalry troop of his own
tenantry, with great gallantry, in De Lancey's regiment. And
despite severe wounds, survived long after the war, a heavy
pecuniary sufferer by the cause which, with most of the
landed gentry of New York, he had espoused.
"In 1780, it was held by Colonel Williams, of the 80th royal
regiment. And here, on the evening of the 19th of September,
he gave a dinner to Sir Henry Clinton and his staff, as a
parting compliment to Andre. The aged owner of the house was
present; and when the Revolution was over he described the
scene and the incidents of that dinner. At the table Sir
Henry Clinton announced the departure of Andre next morning,
on a secret and most important expedition, and added, 'Plain
John Andre will come back Sir John Andre.'
"How brilliant soever the company," Mr. Sargent adds,
"how cheerful the repast, its memory must ever have been
fraught with sadness to both host and guests. It was the
last occasion of Andre's meeting his comrades in life. Four
short days gone, the hands, then clasped by friendship, were
fettered by hostile bonds. Yet nine days more and the
darling of the army, the youthful hero of the hour, had
dangled from a gibbet."
For two hundred and twelve years this mansion of venerable memories
remained. Then it was swept away by the resistless tide of an
advancing population. The thronged pavements of Thirty-fifth street
now pass over the spot, where two centuries ago the most illustrious
men crowded the banqueting hall, and where youth and beauty met in the
dance and song. In view of these ravages of time, well may we exclaim
in the impressive words of Burke, "What shadows we are and what
shadows we pursue."
In the year 1774, John Adams rode from Boston to Philadelphia on
horseback, to attend the first meeting of Congress. His journal
contains an interesting account of this long and fatiguing tour.
Coming from the puritanic simplicity of Boston, he was evidently
deeply impressed with the style and splendor which met his eye in New
York. In glowing terms he alludes to the elegance of their mode of
living, to the architectural grandeur of their country seats; to the
splendor of Broadway, and to the magnificent new church they were
building, which was to cost one hundred thousand dollars.
The aristocratic families of New York were generally in favor of the
Crown. They were not disposed to pay any special attention to a
delegate to the democratic Congress. He had therefore no opportunity
of witnessing the splendor of these ancient families. Two lawyers who
had become wealthy by their professional labors, received him with
honor. At their breakfast tables he beheld display, common enough in
almost every genteel household at the present day, but to which he was
quite unaccustomed in his frugal home at Quincy. One cannot but be
amused in reading the following description of one of his
entertainments:
"A more elegant breakfast I never saw; rich plate; a very
large silver coffee pot; a very large silver tea pot;
napkins of the very finest materials; toast and bread and
butter in great perfection. After breakfast a plate of
beautiful peaches, another of pears and a muskmelon were
placed on the table."
The Revolution proved the utter ruin of these great landed
proprietors, who naturally espoused the cause of the British court.
The habits of life to which they and their fathers had been accustomed
necessarily rendered all the levelling doctrines of the Revolution
offensive to them. They rallied around the royal banners and went down
with them.
Some few of the landed proprietors espoused the cause of the people.
Among others may be mentioned the Livingstons and the Schuylers, the
Jays, the Laurences, and a portion of the Van Courtlands, and of the
Morris family. Fortunately for the Patroon Van Rensselaer, he was a
minor, and thus escaped the peril of attaching himself to either
party.
Negro slavery in a mild form prevailed in these early years in New
York. The cruel and accursed system had been early introduced into the
colony. Most of the slaves were domestic servants, very few being
employed in the fields. They were treated with personal kindness.
Still they were bondmen, deprived of liberty, of fair wages, and of
any chance of rising in the world. Such men cannot, by any
possibility, be contented with their lot. Mr. William L. Stone, in his
very interesting History of New York, writes:
"As far back as 1628, slaves constituted a portion of the
population of New Amsterdam; and to such an extent had the
traffic in them reached that, in 1709, a slave market was
erected at the foot of Wall street, where all negroes who
were to be hired or sold, stood in readiness for bidders.
Their introduction into the colony was hastened by the
colonial establishment of the Dutch in Brazil and upon the
coast of Guinea, and also by the capture of Spanish and
Portuguese prizes with Africans on board.
"Several outbreaks had already happened among the negroes of
New Amsterdam; and the whites lived in constant anticipation
of trouble and danger from them. Rumors of an intended
insurrection real or imaginary, would circulate, as in the
negro plot of 1712, and the whole city be thrown into a
state of alarm. Whether there was any real danger on these
occasions, cannot now be known. But the result was always
the same. The slaves always suffered, many dying by the
fagot or the gallows."
In the year 1741, a terrible panic agitated the whole city in
apprehension of an insurrection of the slaves. The most cruel laws had
been passed to hold them firmly in bondage. The city then contained
ten thousand inhabitants, two thousand of whom were slaves. If three
of these, "black seed of Cain," were found together, they were liable
to be punished by forty lashes on the bare back. The same punishment
was inflicted upon a slave found walking with a club, outside of his
master's grounds without a permit. Two justices could inflict any
punishment, except amputation or death, upon any slave who should make
an assault upon a Christian or a Jew.
A calaboose or jail for slaves stood on the Park Common. Many of the
leading merchants in New York were engaged in the slave trade. Several
fires had taken place, which led to the suspicion that the slaves had
formed a plot to burn the city and massacre the inhabitants. The panic
was such that the community seemed bereft of reason. A poor, weak,
half-crazed servant-girl, Mary Burton, in a sailor's boarding house,
testified, after much importunity, that she had overheard some negroes
conferring respecting setting the town on fire.
At first she confined her accusations to the blacks. Then she began to
criminate white people, bringing charges against her landlord, his
wife and other white persons in the household. In a History of this
strange affair written at the time, by Daniel Horsmanden, one of the
Justices of the Supreme Court, we read,
"The whole summer was spent in the prosecutions. A
coincidence of slight circumstances was magnified, by the
general terror, into violent presumptions. Tales collected
without doors, mingling with the proofs given at the bar,
poisoned the minds of the jurors, and this sanguinary spirit
of the day suffered no check until Mary, the capital
informer, bewildered by the frequent examinations and
suggestions, began to touch characters which malice itself
dare not suspect."
During this period of almost insane excitement, thirteen negroes were
burned at the stake, eighteen were hanged, and seventy transported.
I cannot conclude this treatise upon the olden time better than by
quoting the eloquent words of Mr. Kip:
"The dress, which had for generations been the sign and
symbol of a gentleman, gradually waned away, till society
reached that charming state of equality in which it became
impossible, by any outward costume, to distinguish masters
from servants. John Jay says, in one of his letters, that
with small clothes and buckles the high tone of society
departed. In the writer's early day this system of the past
was just going out. Wigs and powder and queues, breeches and
buckles, still lingered among the older gentlemen, vestiges
of an age which was vanishing away.
"But the high toned feeling of the last century was still in
the ascendant, and had not yet succumbed to the worship of
mammon, which characterizes this age. There was still in New
York a reverence for the colonial families, and the
prominent political men, like Duane, Clinton, Golden,
Radcliff, Hoffman and Livingston, were generally gentlemen,
both by birth and social standing. The time had not yet come
when this was to be an objection to an individual in a
political career. The leaders were men whose names were
historical in the State, and they influenced society. The
old families still formed an association among themselves,
and intermarried, one generation after another. Society was
therefore very restricted. The writer remembers in his
childhood, when he went out with his father for his
afternoon drive, he knew every carriage they met on the
avenues.
"The gentlemen of that day knew each other well, for they
had grown up together and their associations in the past
were the same. Yet, what friendships for after-life did
these associations form! There was, in those days, none of
the show and glitter of modern times. But there was, with
many of these families, particularly with those who had
retained their landed estates and were still living in their
old family homes, an elegance which has never been rivalled
in other parts of the country. In his early days the writer
has been much at the South, has staid at Mount Vernon when
it was held by the Washingtons; with Lord Fairfax's family,
at Ashgrove and Vancluse; but he has never elsewhere seen
such elegance of living as was formerly exhibited by the old
families of New York.
"One thing is certain, that there was a high tone prevailing
at that time, which is now nowhere to be seen. The community
then looked up to public men, with a degree of reverence
which has never been felt by those who have succeeded them.
They were the last of a race which does not now exist. With
them died the stateliness of colonial times. Wealth came in
and created a social distinction which took the place of
family; and thus society became vulgarized.
"The influences of the past are fast vanishing away, and our
children will look only to the shadowy future. The very rule
by which we estimate individuals has been entirely altered.
The inquiry once was, 'Who is he?' Men now ask the question,
'How much is he worth?' Have we gained by the change?"
THE END.
NOTES:
[Footnote 1: Winslow in Young (p. 371).]
[Footnote 2: Bradford in Prince, 248.]
[Footnote 3: Dutch miles, equal to sixteen English miles.]
[Footnote 4: Morton's memorial, page 176.]
[Footnote 5: Hist. of New York, by John Romeyn Brodhead. Vol. I, p
257.]
[Footnote 6: History of the State of New York, p. 203.]
[Footnote 7: History of the State of New York, By John Romeyn Brodhead
Vol I. p. 473.]
[Footnote 8: John Romeyn Brodhead, Vol. 1. p. 521. E.B. O'Callaghan. M
D Vol 2. p. 157.]
[Footnote 9: "History of New Netherland" by E.B. O'Callaghan, Vol 2.
p. 317]
[Footnote 10: Officers of a very important municipal court.]
[Footnote 11: See Brodhead's State of New York, vol. 1. p. 721; also
O'Callaghan's New Netherland, vol 2. p. 489.]
[Footnote 12: This was one cent and a half for the three, or half a
cent each.]