USA > New York > Kings County > Flatbush > The social history of Flatbush : and manners and customs of the Dutch settlers in Kings county > Part 24
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HOME LIFE DURING THE WAR OF THE REVOLUTION.
The morning on which the British troops landed was one of the loveliest we had had that summer. The sky was so clear and bright that you could scarcely think of it as a day which was to bring so much sorrow. I was then just sixteen years old, and my sister was a little older. Father was very feeble- he died of consumption after the close of the war-and, as we had no brothers to protect us, when the news reached us that the army was advancing in the direction of our village, Mother concluded to leave the house and go to a cousin of hers who had a large farm some miles eastward. Accordingly, the great farm-wagon was brought to the door, and such articles of fur- niture as could be easily removed were placed on it. Our faith- ful old negro man, Cæsar, received instructions from Father to take his little grandson, Cato, with him, and to drive the cattle
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through the farm lane to the woods beyond, while Mink, his son, who was a tall, strong, young fellow, was set to watch the premises, and, if possible, to protect the house. Before these arrangements were completed, the rumor reached us that the soldiers were rapidly approaching. The whole village was in commotion. Nothing, as yet, was to be seen of our troops. Women and children were running hither and thither. Men on horseback were riding about in all directions. Farmers might be seen cleaning up their rifles, and half-grown boys practicing shooting at a mark. As I stood near our wagon, which was being loaded, I could see the old Dutch school-master open the door of the little red school-house. The boys rushed out with a · shout ; it proved to be a longer holiday than they then dreamed of. The advancing army was just beyond the hills. There was an almost incessant firing in that direction. The whole care of the farm, and the management of everything, came upon Moth- er on account of Father's illness ; she was fully equal to any emergency, as many of the women in those days were, but her manners were very quiet and gentle, so that when we all be- came very much excited over the approach of the British troops she alone remained calm, and proceeded to make the necessary arrangements. General Washington had placed General Greene in command of this part of Long Island, and fortifications had been thrown up in Brooklyn and Flatbush to guard the ap- proach to New York. An intrenchment was thrown up in Flat- bush a little to the south of us, and a small redoubt, on which a few pieces of artillery were mounted, was put up at the north of us, on a spot which is now in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, and is called the Battle Pass. From these arrangements we knew that the enemy was expected in the line of our house. As my father was ill, and my sister and self were two young girls more full of life and spirit than of discretion, Mother had resolved to seek our safety in flight. Not very brave, you say ? Well, per- haps it was not. But I think if any of you young girls were in the line of an approaching army of English and Hessian soldiers, your mother would do the same.
I can bring before me as if it were but yesterday the scenes
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of our preparations for flight. Diana, the old cook, Cæsar's wife, stood with her hand on the crane, which she had turned on its hinge outward from the great open fireplace, ready to hang the iron pot upon the trammel when the mistress should give the order. But the mistress, in neat homespun short gown and petticoat, after the fashion of the Dutch farmers' wives, stood with her finger on her lip, silently planning before she spoke. Father, in his high-backed chair, sat leaning his hand on the cane he held before him, while my sister and I were en- deavoring to extract a promise from Cæsar that his care should be extended to our pets which we were holding up before him. We had killed a calf that morning. There were no butchers' shops in those days among the Long Island farmers. "You need# not cook dinner to-day, Dian," said Mother. "Put all that is left of the calf on the wagon ; we must not be a burden upon our friends. Cæsar has harnessed up the farm-horses to the large wagon, and we will put in it such things as we can save. We shall go and stay for a while with Cousin Jacobus."
Cousin Jacobus lived about two miles eastward. Just then old Betty came in ; she had brought some herbs for my father's cough. Betty was the wife of the last chief of the Canarsie In- dians, a tribe who had once owned land in the west end of Long Island. I am sorry to say that both the chief and his wife were often the worse for liquor. Betty was very fond of my mother. The attachment had sprung up under the following circum- stances. In the course of a violent storm years before, Mother, looking from the window, saw a woman, without any protec- tion from the rain, seated on a rough stone wall that fenced off our wheat-field from the public road. Touched with pity, Moth- er sent Cæsar to bring the forlorn creature in the house and to give her a place at the kitchen firc.
"Why, Betty, is it you? Why didn't you come in ?" asked my mother, as the object of her pity proved to be the old chief's wife.
" Because," replied Betty, "I wanted to know if I had any friends ; so I waited to see who of the neighbors would call me in."
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" Why, Betty, you knew I was your friend," said Mother.
"I thought so once-I know it now," said the old woman; and from that day she was true to my mother's interest upon every occasion. Knowing that we should leave, she came with a supply of herbs for father and the news that the British army was approaching. She told us that the American troops sta- tioned along the western shore were retreating over the hills toward Flatbush; that Lord Cornwallis with the English sol- diers was on the march, and that the Hessian troops had land- ed. This last piece of information was incorrect; the Hessians under General de Heister were daily expected, but they did not come to Flatbush until some days later. The constant although irregular firing in that direction gave weight to Betty's news, and, when the wagon was brought to the door, my sister and I were all excitement, rushing wildly about the house and bring- ing the most useless things to Cæsar to put in the wagon. Moth- er coolly took out whatever did not seem to her necessary, re- serving space only for such household articles as were in her judgment best to save. The very first thing placed on the wagon was the great Dutch Bible with its huge brass clasps and brass corners. Then the little stand was brought on which this heavy Bible always rested. The old Dutch clock was carefully lifted in, and some one or two articles of furniture, and our clothing. The horses were getting very restive under the firing, which could now be heard distinctly from beyond the western woods.
" Come, Femmetia," Mother called to me again, "you must drive. Where is Gertia ?"
" Come, girls, come," exclaimed my father, somewhat impa- tiently ; but, even after we were all seated in the wagon, and I held the long whip over the heads of the horses, ready to give them the signal to go, he himself delayed us with the many parting admonitions he gave to Mink, who was to be left in charge of the barnyard.
"Go as far as Yost Williamse's lane," said my father. "I will leave word there as we pass how much farther you must drive them."
I, almost unconsciously, had given the horses a tap on their
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ears with the point of my whip; it only needed this in connec- tion with the constant sound of firearms to start them.
" Hold on, Femmetia. How can you be so impatient ? Sey- tie," turning to my mother, " do keep that child quiet."
"But, Father, it was you who hurried us just a moment ago."
Mother shook her head at me. By this time the horses had stopped, and old Cæsar had come up to us again, and now stood listening to my father, with one hand upon the wagon side.
"You know all our year's grain is stacked in the east lot, Cæsar; if you can get them to spare it, it would be well. But I'm afraid it will be burned to save it from falling into the hands of the British. Oh, dear ! We never had a more plenti- ful harvest."
"Never mind," said Mother hopefully, "we are not any worse off than our neighbors. You will bring on another coughing spell if you stay here in this dusty road. Let us go . on. Whip up, Femmetia."
"No, no!" said my father, laying his hands on the reins, "hadn't we better stop at Axtell's and see if he can do any- thing about saving that grain ? "
" We may have to seek greater favors than that of Colonel Axtell," said Mother. "Let us not begin already to ask for help. If it is best to burn the grain crop, let it go. Our people will not destroy it sooner than is necessary."
Cæsar turned toward the house, and we drove on. Father and Mother looked back at the old homestead with heavy hearts. There were tears in Mother's eyes, although she tried to speak cheerfully for Father's sake.
It was late in the afternoon before we reached the farm- house of Cousin Jacobus. They welcomed us very kindly, and were anxious to hear all we could tell them about the landing of the British. I had a great deal to say about the patriotic things I was going to do, which made Mother anxious about me, and quite reconciled to having me out of the way in this quiet place.
That evening a bright light, as of a large fire, shone west-
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ward against the sky, and the next morning a heavy smoke brooded over our village. Father took a stout cane to lean on, and my sister and I helped him climb a little eminence which commanded a view in that direction. He looked very pale, and sighed ; his step seemed more feeble than ever.
"I think the fire is directly in the line of our house," he said.
Youth is very hopeful; so we girls said many encouraging things, and would not believe in disaster. We were young and happy, the sky was bright, the birds were singing all around us, and we could not bear to think of anything gloomy. We did not know then that to the westward, just in the woods beyond where as children we had played, there were heaps of dead and dying.
Father was probably thinking of what might be even then happening in the village, for he seemed unusually sad, and we noticed that he trembled, as if he felt weak and feeble. I think that our merry tones jarred upon him. He could not bear to see us so light-hearted, knowing the perils of our people, and the desolation even then threatening our dear village. We were sure that the British had already been driven back to their ships. He shook his head sadly and said: "I am afraid the old homestead is burned down, children ! "
Father was right. When, after the Battle of Long Island, we returned home, before we reached the village we could see the tall old trees that had stretched their arms so protectingly over our roof; they were all charred and blackened by the flames. Yes, Father was right ; the old homestead was burned down.
Two of our neighbors' houses, as well as our own, were burned to the ground. This was done by order of Lord Corn- wallis, because they offered a defense behind which the Ameri- can riflemen could reload, and from which they could discharge their firearms.
When we returned to the village we were obliged to live in the house of friends who left when we did, but remained longer from home. What a scene of desolation met us on our return!
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There had been a most reckless destruction and waste of prop- erty. What could not be used was broken and destroyed.
Our church was used for the accommodation of prisoners and the sick, and the wounded soldiers were placed in the old school-house. Three of our neighbors who had left the village had their houses turned into hospitals for the American officers as the sickness increased. There had been very heavy rains all through the autumn of 1776, and an epidemic had broken out, arising from the effluvia connected with the British and Hessian encampment. Many of our neighbors and friends were taken ill with this fever, and very few of those who were seized sur- vived. Food was scanty ; even the little to be obtained by hard work we were likely to be robbed of at any moment by the lawless plunderers who had followed in the train of the army.
Some of the houses seem to have been used indiscriminately as stables for horses and as barracks for soldiers. The fences were torn down, the gardens trampled on, the crops destroyed. The roads were so cut up by the passage of artillery wagons that, as it proved to be a very rainy season, they were almost impassable. There was scarcely a family in the whole town which was not visited by the camp fever. I was very ill, and poor Mother had the care of me during all that dreary autumn, as well as of Father, who seemed to be very much prostrated, and to cough more than ever. We were all depressed in con- sequence of the discouraging rumors which were circulated as to the general state of the country. The newspapers reached us rarely. "The New York Journal and General Advertiser," printed by John Holt, near the Coffee House, was a very warm advocate of the American cause. It was sometimes brought to us by the prisoner officers who were billeted on the inhabitants after the capture of Fort Washington. This hopeful little sheet was handed from neighbor to neighbor, and it helped to cheer us up in those dull November days. There were two other newspapers of which we often obtained copies from the British officers : "The New York Gazette and Weekly Mercury," printed by Hugh Gaine, and "Rivington's New York Gazetteer, or the Connecticut, Hudson's River, New Jersey and Quebec Weekly
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Advertiser "-such was its ambitious name. The last mentioned of these papers left us in doubt about everything, except the loyalty due to the King of England.
You may imagine how difficult it was for us to get the papers when I tell you that the Fulton Ferry, that great thor- oughfare of to-day, was then only crossed by occasional row- boats.
My mother was very active and energetic; she was naturally of a cheerful disposition, and disposed to look upon the bright side of things. She would not allow us girls to sit down and mope over our discomforts, but insisted upon our sharing with her the support of the family. Old Cæsar had managed to keep some of our cows hidden in the woods at the end of the farm lane. Mother set aside every morning as much milk as Father needed, but she would not reserve any for herself nor for us girls. She sold milk and butter to the British officers; they paid a good price for it, and this was our main dependence that winter. We used to spin and knit a great deal, for Mother would not allow us an idle moment. I was very fond of read- ing, and I would hide away ends of candle to read by when the rest of the family were asleep. All my education was in the Dutch language ; I never went to an English school in my life, but I taught myself to read English, so that I would take up an English newspaper and read it aloud to my sister in Dutch, or, reading a Dutch book, I could translate it into English for the prisoner officers as rapidly as if it was written in English.
It was useless to try and raise grain that year, for the fences were all destroyed, and our beautiful farm was laid waste. Our faithful Cæsar managed, however, to pasture some of the horses of the cavalry officers in the wood-lots at the back of the farm, out of sight of the road, and that was very profitable. I must tell you of something in this connection which afforded us much amusement.
We had a wood-lot at the north end of the farm, known familiarly as Nova Scotia. There was no undergrowth, and, as the grass was luxuriant, here the horses were pastured. One morning an English officer came in great haste to Cæsar, asking
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for his horse. Cæsar, who had had no great opinion of British troops, seeing the trouble their coming had given, replied, without looking up from his work, that the horse was in Nova Scotia. "How dared you send my horse to Nova Scotia ? " de- manded the Englishman, getting very red in the face. The old colored man looked up in surprise, but he merely said that " Master had ordered it to be sent there." The officer stamped his foot in rage. "I tell you I want my horse ; I meant to use him this very day. What right had he to send him away ?" Cæsar thought his conduct was certainly remarkable, inasmuch as there was no better pasture than Nova Scotia lot for miles around. In great rage the Englishman advanced toward the house. He was too much of a gentleman to be rude to a young girl who received him with politeness, and when I met him at the door the struggle between his anger and the desire to appear calm kept him silent. I invited him in, and, knowing him to be the owner of one of the finest horses in the pasture-lot, I sent Mink to bring down "the Financier." The struggle to repress his pent-up indignation was ineffectual. You may imag- ine his embarrassment when, in the midst of his reproaches, he looked up and saw his spirited horse come gayly cantering down the farm lane. He was a kind-hearted man, and very much of a gentleman. He could scarcely forgive himself for being so rude, and he tried in every way to make reparation for his conduct. He was a fast friend of ours after that, and was enabled by his position to do us many an act of kindness, which in our defenseless state we certainly needed. Cæsar was not as reticent as we wished him to be, and when the officers got hold of the story, they joked him for months after about the disposition which the rebels had made of his horse.
All Mother's energies were now directed to gaining a home, so that she might make Father more comfortable. It was al- most impossible to get building materials. With the money she had saved she purchased some lumber from a neighbor, but it was not sufficient to complete the house. The room intended for my sister and myself was not floored all the way across. This was fun for me, but my sister did not view it in that light.
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It is strange what different dispositions may be in the same fam- ily. I looked on the bright side of everything, Sister on the dark side. I thought of our unfloored room as a good joke, she as a great misfortune. On the first night that we went up to our room, I skipped over the beams to the flooring as nimbly as a squirrel. While she stood trembling at the other side, in the doorway, insisting that she could not get over, I stood coolly combing out my long hair and teasing her.
" I can never get over," she said dolefully.
" Oh, yes, you can ; it is very easy. I like it. Mother wants to get a board laid from the door to the bed, but I sha'n't let her. It's better so. It's such fun. Besides, we have only to go to the edge, and we can look right down to the room below. I like it better than our room in the old house. If you don't come soon I shall put out the light and go to bed." She knew this was what I would be quite likely to do, for I was, I con- fess, fond of teasing her.
"Oh! now don't; I shall break my neck, and then Mother will have the care of me as well as Father."
"Oh, no, she wouldn't. That would be the end of you and all your troubles. Still, if you're going to be so serious, I sup- pose I must come."
Then I skipped across to her, and, leading her just half way over, let go her hand. Of course she screamed, and Mother opened the door below. "Hush-sh-sh, girls! You'll waken your father."
My sister appealed to Mother for help, but the door had already closed below. Before I had time to relieve my " pris- oner," as I called her, we heard the heavy bare foot of Diana approaching. She came to the room beneath and called up to us :
" Dere's a hull lot of sogers jes come inter de barn. Spec dey'll kill all what's lef of de chickens."
It was no new thing. We were constantly being plundered. There was no redress for the depredations daily committed. One pair of our farm-horses had been taken from the harrow, even while Cæsar was using them. I remarked to my sister
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that this was a " harrowing case." She wouldn't laugh. I can't say whether she felt so disheartened at our loss that she did not appreciate my poor attempt at wit, or whether she understood so little English that she did not see it. We always spoke Dutch in the family. We only used English in speaking with the pris- oners who were billeted upon us, and to the British officers. To return to Dian, who was standing below, her arms akimbo, look- ing up at us :
"You jes come down," she said.
The hint was enough. I helped my sister to cross the room to the safe flooring, and rushed down stairs to Diana. Good, faithful soul, I was her favorite and her accomplice in all her attacks upon the enemy. Mother never knew how many scout- ing parties of two she and I formed that winter to watch our premises. She had concealed weapons at the kitchen-door-an old rifle and a broomstick; with these we proceeded to the barn, dodging from the great walnut-tree to the corn-crib, and from there flitting behind the wagon-house, until we reached the shadow of the great barn. It was moonlight. I often won- der now that I could ever have been so fearless, but I was young and knew no danger or cause for alarm. Besides, I had perfect faith in my leader. Dian and I were fast friends, and she had never failed in any of our expeditions against the invaders of the poultry-yard. She had confided to me the plan she would have pursued had she been in Cæsar's place when they stole the horses, and I had accredited her with the victory she might have gained.
In this instance it was by stratagem that we were to con- quer. She had privately surveyed the field of action before call- ing me, and the moonlight had enabled her to recognize in the thieves some of the members of the company who were ap- pointed to protect (?) the town. Concealed between a corn- crib and the barn, she thrust her rifle through a hole in the side door, I at the same time flinging a stone against the barn to attract the notice of the parties within to the fact of their close proximity to the rifle. The moonlight fell upon the weapon pointed at them by unseen hands. It was enough ; we were
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left in possession of the field. Mother knew nothing about the raid until the next day, when Dian told her that we were to have roast fowls for dinner.
We could not buy any nails for building, so that we were obliged to use those taken from the ruins of the burned houses. The prisoner officers used to meet with us and other young girls of our age, and help us straighten the nails there gathered. Thus the ruins got to be a place of fashionable resort. The young people collected there for an afternoon's chat, but Mother, who did not look with friendly eyes on the attentions of all these young officers, insisted that there was quite as much talking and flirting as there was work. The young girls of our age, of course, could not but sympathize with the prisoners, and as the officers had little to beguile their time, both parties had an ex- cellent excuse for meeting there, and boasted very much of their industry, as people are apt to do when work and pleasure are united.
I have heard that four hundred prisoners were billeted in the southern towns of Kings County. The only regiment left in Flatbush after the Battle of Long Island was the Forty- second Regiment of Highlanders.
There was little protection for property at this time ; appeal to law was impossible; indeed, people acted as if there was no law. Everything in the shape of personal property was kept at the risk of the owner. The cattle were not safe unless watched vigilantly. Mother went on one occasion to our neigh- bor, Colonel Axtell, and submitted to him the fact that all our cows had been driven off in spite of her remonstrance. She was a great favorite among her neighbors, and the Colonel lis- tened to her story. After conferring with his English friends, he sent us word that Cæsar might go on a certain day to a place which he named, and from among the herd of cattle which he would find there he might point out those which be- longed to us. It was a great relief to see Cæsar let down the bars, and turn the herd once more into their accustomed pas- ture. From this you may see how insecure property was, and with what audacity we were plundered. Our household arti-
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cles of value we were obliged to conceal. Many persons hid boxes containing valuables in their fields and gardens. It has been asserted that some of this hidden treasure was never taken up, but this is very doubtful.
Our spoons, tankard, and such pieces of silver tea-service as every Dutch housekeeper at that time possessed were placed in a box and hidden under the hearthstone. The insecurity of the hiding-place was made evident to us by Mink, who was not in the secret. He remarked in Dutch to his father, old Cæsar, that some evil spirit must have taken lodging under the hearth, for it seemed loose and uneven. The negroes were so supersti- tious that the supposed presence of an evil spirit would have insured it from their examination, but we felt that it was inse- cure if it attracted any observation whatever, and with the as- sistance of Cæsar, who was fully to be trusted, we found for it another hiding-place.
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