CHAPTER IX

BROOKLYN AFTER THE REVOLUTION

1784-1810

Effect of the British Occupation on Life and Business in the County. Brooklyn particularly disturbed. Town Meetings resumed. The Prison Ships and their Terrible Legacy. Tragedies of the Wallabout. Movement to honor the Dead. Burial of the Remains. The Tammany Enterprise and the Removal of the Bones. Further Removal to Fort Greene. Organization of the Brooklyn Fire Department. The Ferry. The Mail Stage. New Roads. Planning "Olympia." Early Advertisements. Circulating Library and Schools. The Rain-water Doctor. Kings County Medical Society. Flatlands. Gravesend. Flatbush, the County Seat. Mills. Erasmus Hall. New Utrecht. Bushwick, its Church, Tavern, Graveyard, and Mills. The Boundary Dispute. The Beginnings of Williamsburgh. Rival Ferries. "The Father of Williamsburgh."

During the whole period of the Revolution Brooklyn had been peculiarly disturbed. More than any other of the county towns, it had been distracted and prostrated. Farms had been pillaged and the property of exiled Whigs given over to Tory friends of the Governor. Military occupation naturally resulted in great damage to property. "Farmers were despoiled of their cattle, horses, swine, poultry, vegetables, and of almost every necessary article of subsistence, except their grain, which fortunately had been housed before the invasion. Their houses were also plundered of every article which the cupidity of a lawless soldiery deemed worthy of possession, and much furniture was wantonly destroyed. At the close of this year's campaign, De Heister, the Hessian general, returned to Europe with a shipload of plundered property."[1] While the other towns were receiving pay for the board of prisoners, and thus being justified in maintaining their crops, Brooklyn remained a garrison town until the end.

After the evacuation, Brooklyn's farmers and tradesmen at once turned their attention to the restoration of the orderly conditions existing before the war. It also became necessary to reorganize the local government. In April, 1784, was held the first town meeting since April, 1776. Jacob Sharpe was chosen town clerk, and Leffert Lefferts, the previous clerk, was called upon to produce the town records. The result of this demand has already been described in the reference to the missing records.

Before proceeding further with the narrative of Brooklyn's growth after the Revolution, it will be necessary to return for a moment to certain sad circumstances that followed the battle of Brooklyn and other successes of the British. The battle of Long Island was fought August 27, 1776, and Fort Washington was captured in November. These victories gave the British between 4000 and 5000 prisoners. At that time there were only two small jails in New York city. One was called the Bridewell, and was situated in Broadway near Chambers Street, and the other was known as the New Jail. These prisons could not accommodate the daily increasing number of prisoners. It was a dark hour in American history; success seemed to perch upon the banners of the enemy. Large accessions of prisoners were made, and quarters had to be provided for them. The churches were taken without ceremony and converted into receptacles for the captives. The sugar-houses were used for the same purpose. One of these was situated in Liberty Street, adjoining the old Middle Dutch Church. That church was also used. Within its walls thousands of prisoners were placed, regardless of comfort or sanitary rules. If its walls could speak they would tell a tale which would make a sad record.

The old North Dutch Church on the corner of Fair Street and Horse and Cart Lane (now Fulton and William streets) was also used as a prison pen, and within its walls a thousand persons were held. Within a few years this venerable landmark has succumbed to the march of progress.

The infamous Cunningham was at this time provost marshal of the city. He possessed the instincts of a brute, and often seemed to own the spirit of a demon. The sick and dying received no sympathy or care from him. Healthy men were placed in the same room with those having the smallpox and other maladies. Prisoners were not allowed sufficient food or bedding, and their clothes were scanty. The food was not fit to give to the beasts. The men must have reached the verge of starvation to induce them to partake of the unwholesome mess of wormy and mouldy food dealt out to them. The allowance made to the men was a loaf of bread, one quart of peas, half a pint of rice, and one and a half pounds of pork for six days. Large numbers died from want, privation, and exhaustion. So crowded were these prisons that there was no room to lie down and rest. The impure atmosphere engendered disease. Every morning the cry was heard, "Rebels, bring out your dead." All who had died during the night were carelessly thrown into the dead-cart and carried to the trenches in the neighborhood of Canal Street, and buried without a vestige of ceremony.

But the horrors of the city prisons were more than repeated in the tragedies of the prison ships in the bend of the Wallabout. The first vessels used were the freight transports which had been employed in conveying troops to Staten Island in 1776. These transports were for a short time anchored in Gravesend Bay, and received the prisoners taken on Long Island. When New York was conquered they were removed to the city. The Good Hope and Scorpion for a while were anchored off the Battery, and subsequently were taken to Wallabout Bay, and with other vessels were used as prisons. Two vessels at a time were kept in this service. Among the vessels thus used were the Whitley, Falmouth, Prince of Wales, Scorpion, Bristol, and Old Jersey.

In 1780 one of the vessels was burned by the unhappy captives, who hoped thereby to regain their liberty. The effort was unsuccessful, and the prisoners were removed to the Old Jersey, which continued in service until the end of the war.

Wallabout Bay had the shape of a horse-shoe. The Jersey was anchored at a point which is now represented by the west end of the Cob Dock. If Cumberland Street were continued in a straight line to a point between the Navy Yard proper and the Cob Dock, it would pass over the spot where this vessel was anchored.

Historians agree in saying that the treatment on all these vessels was alike, and that the Jersey was not exceptional. The Jersey was the largest of all, and having remained in service for so long a time had the most prisoners. On that account she has attracted the most attention.

The crew on board each ship consisted of a captain, mates, steward, a few sailors and marines, and about thirty soldiers. Each prisoner on his arrival was carefully searched for arms and valuables. His name and rank were duly registered. He was allowed to retain his clothing and bedding, and to use these, but during confinement was supplied with nothing additional. The examination having been completed, he was conducted to the hold of the vessel, to become the companion of a thousand other patriots, many of whom were covered with rags and filth, and pale and emaciated from the constant inhalation of the pestiferous and noxious atmosphere which impregnated the vessel. Strong men could not long resist inroads of sickness and disease. Many were taken down with typhus fever, dysentery, and smallpox. The vessel was filled continually with the vilest malaria. The guns were removed, portholes securely fastened, and in their place were two tiers of lights to admit air. Each of these air holes was about twenty inches square, and fastened by cross-bars to prevent escape. The steward supplied each mess with a daily allowance of biscuit, pork or beef, and rancid butter. The food was of the poorest which could be obtained, and of itself was sufficient to breed disease. The biscuits were mouldy and worm-eaten, the flour was sour, and the meat badly tainted. It was cooked in a common kettle, which was never cleaned, with impure water, and became a slow but sure poison. The prisoners were kept in the holds between the two decks, and the lower dungeon was used for the foreigners who had enlisted in freedom's cause. Here again the morning salutation was, "Rebels, bring out your dead." The command was obeyed, and all who had found relief in death were brought upon deck. Prisoners were allowed to sew a blanket over the remains of their dead companions before burial. The dead were taken in boats to the shore, put in holes dug in the sand, and carelessly covered. Frequently they were washed from their resting place by the incoming tide. Often while walking along the old Wallabout road, between Cumberland Street and the Navy Yard, I have seen the remains of the gallant patriots who lost their lives on the Jersey. In the "'fifties" of the present century it was no uncommon thing for pieces of bone and human skulls to be dug up on the borders of the old road.

The only relief the prisoners had was permission to remain on deck until sunset. When the golden orb of day sunk beneath the horizon, the ears of all were saluted with the obnoxious cry, "Down, rebels, down." When all had retired to the hold, the hatchway was closed, leaving only a small trap open to admit air. At this trapdoor a sentinel was placed, with instructions to allow but one man to ascend at a time during the night. The sentinels possessed the same cruel spirit as their masters. A prisoner who had been confined on the Jersey for fourteen months said that, on occasions when the prisoners gathered at the hatchway to obtain fresh air, the sentinel repeatedly thrust his bayonet among them and killed several. These acts created a desire for revenge. Many of the men were enabled to endure their trials by the thought that the night of darkness would soon pass away, and the day dawn when they could take vengeance on the scoundrels who had treated them with so much brutality.

An instance of this determination to be revenged is narrated in the life of Silas Talbot. It appears that two brothers belonging to the same rifle corps were made prisoners and sent on board the Jersey. The elder was attacked with fever and became delirious. One night, as his end was fast approaching, reason resumed its sway, and, while lamenting his sad fate and breathing a prayer for his mother, he begged for a little water. His brother entreated the guard to give him some, but the request was brutally refused. The sick boy drew near to death, and his last struggle came. The brother offered the guard a guinea for an inch of candle to enable him to behold the last gasping smile of love and affection. This request was refused. "Now," said he, "if it please God that I ever regain my liberty, I'll be a most bitter enemy." He soon after became a free man, and, to show how well he kept his word, it is only necessary to say that when the war closed "he had 8 large and 127 small notches in his rifle stock." These notches probably represented 8 officers and 127 privates.

On one occasion 130 men were brought to the Jersey by the villain Sprout, who was commissary of prisoners. As he approached the black unsightly hulk, he pointed to her sardonically, and told his captives, "There, rebels, there is the cage for you."

The same bitter round was the daily portion of the men,--during the day a little air and sunlight, and being compelled to listen to the curses and imprecations of their captors, while at night they had to breathe the stifling air between decks, and listen to the groans of the sick and dying, without the power to give them any relief.

Some of the men were assigned to wash and scrub the decks. This of itself was a great blessing, as it gave them occupation and additional rations. During the night watches it was as dark as Egypt between decks, for no sort of light was allowed. Delirious men would wander about and stumble over their fellows. Sometimes the warning shout would be heard, that a madman was creeping in the darkness with a knife in his hand. At times a soldier would wake up to find that the brother at his side had become a corpse. The soldiers in charge of the prisoners were mostly Hessians, and were universally hated as mercenaries.

Yet no amount of cruelty could drive patriotism from the hearts of the captives. On the 4th of July, 1782, they determined to celebrate the anniversary in a fitting manner. On the morning of that day, they came on deck with thirteen national flags, fastened on brooms. The flags were seized, torn, and trampled under foot by the guards, who looked upon the act as an insult. Nothing daunted, the men determined to have their pleasure, and began to sing national melodies. The guards became enraged, considered themselves insulted, and drove the prisoners below at an early hour, at the point of the bayonet, and closed the hatches. The prisoners again commenced to sing. At nine o'clock in the evening an order was given requiring them to cease. This order not being instantly complied with, the animosity of the guards was aroused, and they descended with lanterns and lances. Terror and consternation at once reigned supreme. The retreating prisoners were sorely pressed by the guards, who unmercifully cut and slashed away, wounding every one within their reach, and inflicting in many instances deadly blows. They then returned to the deck, leaving the wounded to suffer, without the means to have their wounds properly dressed. In consequence of this explosion of patriotism, a new torture was devised. The men, as a punishment, were kept below on the following day until noon, and thus were prevented from the enjoyment of the sun and air for six long weary hours. During this time they were also deprived of rations and water. As a result of the night's diabolism ten dead bodies were brought on deck in the morning.

To show the heartlessness of the guards, an incident is narrated of a man who was supposed to be dead, and had been sewed up in his hammock and carried on deck preparatory to burial. He was observed to move, and the attention of the officer in charge was called to the fact that he was still living. "In with him," said the officer; "if he is not dead, he soon will be." The sailor took a knife, cut open the hammock, and discovered that the man was still alive. Doubtless many men who had swooned away were buried alive.

At the time of these occurrences, the government did not possess the ability to make exchanges. The captives on the prison ships were mostly privateersmen, and, not being in the regular Continental service, Congress was unwilling to restore healthy soldiers to the ranks of the enemy, thereby adding to their strength without a full and exact equivalent.

The Americans had entered into an agreement to exchange officer for officer and soldier for soldier. They had but few naval prisoners, and thus could make no exchange for the unfortunate ones on these ships. Our authorities were compelled to let their captives on the water go at large, for want of suitable places to keep them. Washington took a lively interest in the matter, and entered into a correspondence with Henry Clinton and Admiral Digby on the subject, threatening retaliation. He, however, threatened and expostulated in vain.

The American rebels were urged by the British officers to enter their service. Some did enlist, with the hope uppermost in their minds that they would be able to desert.

The prisoners were released at the close of the war. The old Jersey was destroyed, and its decaying timbers became buried in the mud.

The bones of the prison-ship martyrs lay for many years bleaching on the banks of Wallabout Bay, where they had been rudely buried by the British. The action of the tide upon the sandy banks gradually washed away the little earth which had been thrown over them, thereby causing the sacred relics to become exposed to view. The attention of Congress was frequently called to the necessity of providing a suitable resting place for these honored remains. The sight of these bones strewn upon the banks of the bay was enough to awaken the interest of the nation. At last the citizens of Brooklyn became aroused, and at a town meeting held in 1792, a resolution was passed requesting John Jackson, who had collected a large number of the bones on his farm, which then included the land now used by the Navy Yard, to allow the relics in his possession and under his control to be removed to the Reformed Dutch Church graveyard for burial, and a monument erected over them. General Jeremiah Johnson was the chairman of the committee. The application was refused, Jackson having other intentions as to their interment. Jackson was a blunt man, and a firm believer in the principles of Democracy as enunciated by Jefferson. He was one of the sachems of the Tammany Society or Columbian Order.

He had several hogsheads full of bones which he had collected upon the beach. To consummate his plan he offered to the Tammany Society a plot in his farm for land whereon a suitable monument might be erected.

Tammany accepted the trust, and in February, 1803, entered actively upon the work. The society at once proposed and caused to be presented to Congress a stirring and forcible memorial on the subject. Congress, however, came to no determination in the matter, and the matter remained quiescent until 1808. Between the time of the acceptance of the offer by Tammany and the action by Congress in 1808, Benjamin Aycrigg, a prominent and influential citizen, became greatly interested in the measure. In the summer of 1805, noticing the exposed condition of these remains on the beach of the bay, his patriotic heart was horrified by the sight; his soul was filled with indignation that steps had not been taken to have them decently interred. He, in the same year, made a contract with an Irishman living at the Wallabout to collect all the exposed bones. The remains thus collected formed a part of those subsequently placed in the vault erected on the Jackson lot by the Tammany Society.

In 1808 Tammany again renewed its labors. At a meeting of the society a committee was appointed, called the Wallabout Committee, consisting of Jacob Vandervoort, John Jackson, Burdett Stryker, Issachar Cozzens, Robert Townsend, Jr., Benjamin Watson, and Samuel Coudrey. This committee was deeply interested in the work, and used every available means to enlist public sympathy and assistance. Memorials were prepared and circulated, and appeals made through the press and otherwise, urging the citizens to come forward and aid the sacred cause. In their efforts they did not confine themselves to New York, but sought to create a national interest in the undertaking. The patriotism of the people was appealed to, and the effort was crowned with success. When the subject was thus forcibly presented, the citizens of the young republic realized their obligation to provide a proper burial place for the dust and bones of her brave sons, through whose death the nation rose into existence. The measure was presented in a way which could not be resisted. The inhabitants of all sections became greatly interested, and nobly responded to the call, and the committee, finding so many ready to aid, assist, and approve, were enabled to commence the erection of the structure much sooner than they had at first anticipated.

The spot given was situated in Jackson Street (now Hudson Avenue), near York Street, abutting the Navy Yard wall. The street was named after the owner of the land. The name was afterward changed to Hudson Avenue.

The land was formally deeded by Jackson to the Tammany Society in 1803. When all things were ready the society caused the remains collected by Jackson, with all the bones found upon the beach, to be committed to the tomb with appropriate ceremonies.

The arrangements for laying the corner-stone were completed, and the 13th of April, 1808, fixed for that interesting ceremony. The order of exercises was as follows: At eleven o'clock the procession formed at the ferry, foot of Main Street, marched through that street to Sands Street, thence to Bridge Street, along Bridge to York Street, through York Street to Jackson, and thence to the ground.

As Major Aycrigg had ever manifested unabated interest in this labor of love, he was properly selected as grand marshal of the day.

The first division of the procession consisted of a company of United States marines, under command of Lieutenant-Commandant Johnson. The second division was composed of citizens of New York and Brooklyn. The third division embraced the committees of the various civic societies. The fourth division contained the Grand Sachem of the Tammany Society, Father of the Council, and orator of the day. The fifth division carried the corner-stone with the following inscription:--

IN THE NAME OF THE SPIRITS OF THE DEPARTED FREE. Sacred to the memory of that portion of AMERICAN FREEMEN, SOLDIERS AND CITIZENS, who perished on board the PRISON SHIPS OF THE BRITISH at the Wallabout during the REVOLUTION. This corner-stone of the vault erected by the TAMMANY SOCIETY OR COLUMBIAN ORDER

Nassau Island, Season of Blossoms, year of the discovery the 316th, of the institution the 19th, and of the American Independence the 22d.

JACOB VANDERVOORT, } JOHN JACKSON, } BURDETT STRYKER, } Wallabout ISSACHAR COZZENS, } Committee. ROBERT TOWNSEND, JR., } BENJAMIN WATSON, } SAMUEL COUDREY, }

Daniel and William Campbell, builders, April 6, 1808.

The sixth division was composed of a detachment of artillery under command of Lieutenant Townsend.

The procession having reached the ground, the artillery were stationed upon a neighboring hill, and the various divisions took the positions assigned them.

The oration, which was a brilliant effort, was delivered by Joseph D. Foy. The stone was then lowered to its place and duly laid by Benjamin Romaine, Grand Sachem of the Tammany Society, assisted by the committee, after which a grand salute was fired, and the band discoursed sweet and solemn notes.

The vault was completed in May, 1808. Arrangements were made for an imposing display, and no pains were spared in preparation. The various societies and public bodies were ready and anxious to do all in their power to render the occasion impressive and memorable. The citizens turned out _en masse_ on the 26th of May, 1808, to bear testimony to the worth of these brave men whose obsequies were to be celebrated. They assembled at ten o'clock in the park in front of the City Hall, New York, under command of Brigadier Generals Morton and Steddiford, Garret Sickels, Grand Marshal, assisted by twelve aides.

The inscription on the pedestal was as follows:--

[Front.] AMERICANS REMEMBER THE BRITISH. [Right side.] YOUTH OF MY COUNTRY MARTYRDOM PREFERRED TO SLAVERY. [Left side.] SIRES OF COLUMBIA transmit to posterity the cruelties practiced on board the "BRITISH PRISON SHIPS." [Rear.] "Tyrants dread the gathering storm While Freemen, Freemen's Obsequies perform."

The orator of the day was Dr. Benjamin DeWitt, who delivered an able and patriotic address to the assembled multitude. He feelingly depicted the sufferings endured in British dungeons, and drew tears to many eyes by his eloquent and touching remarks, referring to the tyranny of the oppressors and the patience of the patriots. The oration concluded, in painful silence the coffins were committed to their resting place. Rev. Mr. Williston then pronounced the benediction, "To the King, Immortal, Invisible, the All-wise God, be glory everlasting, amen." The occasion was one long remembered in both cities.

During many years these relics remained forgotten in their sepulchre. The grade of Jackson Street was altered so as to take a part of the sacred ground. Jackson, when he gave the land, was not far-sighted enough to have secured the passage of an act to preserve its precincts intact, free from invasion by streets, and exempt from taxation. The land at one time was sold for taxes. It seemed as if the past had been forgotten. Then it was that Benjamin Romaine came forward and purchased the lot. In order to preserve it from desecration, he adopted it as his family burial plot. He resolved to be buried there himself, and placed within the vault a coffin designed for his mortal remains. He constructed the ante-chamber over the tomb. Upon the property he placed the following inscription:--

First--The portal to the tomb of 11,500 patriot prisoners of war who died in dungeons and pestilential prison ships in and about the City of New York during the war of our Revolution. The top is capped with two large urns in black, and a white globe in the centre.

Second--The interior of the tomb contains thirteen coffins assigned in the order as observed in the Declaration of Independence, and inserted thus--New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia.

Third--Thirteen beautifully turned posts, painted white, and capped with a small urn in black, and between the posts the above-named States are fully lettered.

Fourth--In 1778, the Colonial Congress promulgated the Federal League compact, though it was not finally ratified until 1781, only two years before the peace of 1783.

Fifth--In 1789, our General National Convention, to form a more perfect unison, did ordain the present Constitution of the United States of America, to be one entire Sovereignty, and in strict adhesion to the equally necessary State rights. Such a republic must endure forever.

In 1842, a large number of citizens applied to the Legislature for permission to remove the remains to a more private place. Romaine vigorously and eloquently objected to the proposed change, and the matter was permitted to rest quietly until after his death in 1844. During the following year attention was again called to the forlorn and neglected condition of the sepulchre. Henry C. Murphy was then in Congress, representing Kings and Richmond counties. The abject condition of the vault was brought to the notice of Congress, and action taken. The military committee recommended an appropriation of $20,000 to secure a permanent tomb and monument. The report was drawn by Henry C. Murphy, whose exertions in this behalf were untiring. The effort, however, was not successful.

Samuel Boughton, John T. Hildreth, John H. Baker, and other public-spirited men, holding diverse political views, started subscription papers, and published articles in the papers urging the importance of immediate action to accomplish the praiseworthy object.

In 1855, a meeting was held and a Martyrs' Monument Association formed. This association intended to have representatives from each State and Territory. The committee started with commendable energy. They early took the ground that Fort Greene was the proper site. Plans were proposed and subscriptions solicited. For a long time nothing more was done. The Common Council agreed to permit the use of Fort Greene. It was not until June, 1873, that the remains of the prison-ship martyrs were carried to the vault on the face of Fort Greene.[2]

The narrative here concluded has passed far beyond the limits of the period to which this chapter is devoted. Turning to the post-Revolutionary period, we find the county towns resuming a normal course of life. The Dutchmen who gathered at the Brooklyn church ceased to talk of war. The Episcopalians, who worshiped in John Middagh's barn, at the corner of Henry and Poplar streets, turned from politics to denominational questions, and the "Independents" built a meeting-house on the Fulton Street ground afterwards taken by St. Anne's Buildings.

We learn from the "Corporation Manual" (1869) that the first step toward a fire department within the limits of the present city was taken in April, 1785, by the organization of a fire-company. At a meeting of the freeholders of the town, held at the house of Widow Moser, in Fulton Street, near the ferry, it was agreed that the company should be composed of seven members, who should be commissioned as firemen for one year. They selected the following persons as the members of the company: Henry Stanton, captain; Abraham Stoothoof, John Doughty, Jr., Thomas Havens, J. Van Cott, and Martin Woodward. They also voted to raise by tax the sum of £150 for the purchase of a fire-engine. Among the regulations agreed upon for the government of the new company was a requirement that the members should meet on the first Saturday of each month, to play, clean, and work their engine, and that in case of their non-attendance, upon notification from their captain, a fine of eight shillings should be imposed upon them, and that upon the captain, in the event of his neglecting properly to notify the members, a fine of sixteen shillings should be imposed. The engine was in due time procured. It was constructed by Jacob Boome, of New York city, who had just then commenced business as the first engine-builder ever located in that city. Previous to his time, the fire-engines had generally been imported from England. The company adopted the name of "Washington Engine Company No. 1," and was, up to the time of dissolution of the Volunteer Department, still in active existence. Their engine-house was situated in a lane, now called Front Street, near its junction with Fulton Street.

The firemen continued to be chosen annually in town meeting, and the appointment was much sought after as conferring respectability of position in the community. On the 30th of April, 1787, the number of firemen was increased to eleven, and it was resolved that each fireman should take out a license, for which he should pay a fee of four shillings, the sums thus accruing being appropriated to the ordinary expenses of the company.

On the 15th of March, 1788, came the first state legislation relative to the firemen of Brooklyn. In 1794 there were about fifty families residing within the limits of the fire district; the entire population, including some 100 slaves, numbering 350 souls. There were about seventy-five buildings in the district, mainly located between what is now called Henry Street and the ferry. Those devoted to business purposes were generally near the ferry, where a supply of water from the river could readily and easily be obtained. Although fires were of exceedingly rare occurrence, and trivial in their character, yet nine years of use, or rather disuse and decay and rust, had rendered the engine unserviceable. In view of this fact, on the first Tuesday of April, 1794, it was resolved in town meeting that a subscription should be authorized to raise the funds necessary for the purchase of a new engine. The sum of £188 19s. was speedily collected, and a new and more powerful engine was procured. In 1795 the Legislature extended the limits of the fire district, and increased the volunteer force to thirty men. In town meeting it was resolved that each house should be provided with two fire-buckets, under a penalty of two shillings for every neglect so to provide after due notification. In 1796 a fire-bell was purchased by popular subscription, and set up in the storehouse of Jacob Remsen, at Fulton and Front streets, in sight of the ferry.

In the awarding of the ferry lease in 1789, it was ordered "that the boats, together with their masts and sails, be of such form and dimensions as the wardens of the port of New York should approve; that each boat be constantly worked and managed by two sober, discreet, and able-bodied experienced watermen; that each boat be always furnished with four good oars and two boat-hooks."[3] A new ferry at Catherine Street was established in 1795.

Although the ferry was in active operation, traveling by land was by exceedingly primitive stages. As late as 1793, according to Furman, there was no post-office on any part of Long Island, and no mail carried on it. It was not until about the opening of the present century that the first post-route was started. As late as 1835 "the regular mail stage left Brooklyn once a week, on Thursday, having arrived from Easthampton and Sag Harbor the afternoon of the previous day; and this was the only conveyance travelers could then have through this Island, unless they took a private carriage." The practice was to leave Brooklyn about nine in the morning, to dine at Hempstead, and then "jog on to Babylon, where they put up for the night."[4]

By the enterprise of the Flushing Bridge and Road Company, incorporated in 1802, the distance between Flushing and Brooklyn was shortened about four miles. Three years later the Wallabout and Brooklyn Toll Bridge Company laid out a road extending from the Cripplebush road to the easterly side of the Wallabout mill pond, over which a bridge connected with Sands Street.

Within the limits of the town[5] the spirit of real estate enterprise appeared in various quarters, but perhaps the most ambitious undertaking was that of the holders of the Sands and Jackson tract, surveyed in 1787, and lying on the East River between the Wallabout and the Brooklyn ferry. To the prospective village planned for this region was given the name of Olympia, after the habit of bestowing classical names which began to appear in post-Revolutionary days. In 1801 John Jackson sold forty acres of Wallabout lands to the United States for $40,000.

The columns of the "Long Island Weekly Intelligencer," published by Roberson & Little, booksellers and stationers, at the corner of Old Ferry and Front streets, give interesting glimpses of this period. In 1806 Henry Hewlet dealt in "general merchandise" near the Old Ferry; John Cole was coach-maker; Dr. Lowe's office was "at the Rev. Mr. Lowe's, corner of Red Hook Road." There was demand for five apprentices at Amos Cheney's shipyard. Benjamin Hilton sold china, glass, and earthenware, "at New York prices," in Old Ferry Street. Postmaster Bunce had fifty-three letters that had not been called for.

In a later issue of the "Intelligencer" the editor remarks that he has been "requested to suggest the propriety of each family placing lights in front of their houses, not having the advantage of lamps, as great inconvenience and loss of time arises from the neglect, particularly on dark nights."

In 1808 the town appropriated $1500 for the erection of a new "poor house." The county court house of this period was at Flatbush, then the county seat. The old court house had been burned in 1758. The money required to build the new court house was raised by an assessment upon the inhabitants of the county. This building continued in use thirty-four years, when, by reason of its dilapidated condition, a new court house and jail were built in 1792. The court house cost $2944.71. The contractor was Thomas Fardon, and the plans for the building were furnished by Messrs. Stanton, Newton, and James Robertson. In referring to the court house, Furman says that "in 1800 the court house was let to James Simson for one year at £3 in money." In this agreement "the justices reserved for themselves the chamber in the said house called the court chamber, at the time of their publique sessions, courts of common pleas, and private meetings; as also the room called the prison, for the use of the sheriff if he had occasion for it." The building stood for forty years, when it was destroyed by fire.

Meanwhile the hamlet of Brooklyn took on many of the characteristics of a maturing village. Joseph B. Pierson removed from New York to Brooklyn in 1809, and opened a circulating library on Main Street, two doors from Sands Street. In the "Long Island Star" of June, 1809, George Hamilton advertised a select school where "students were taught to make their own pens." Hamilton was succeeded by John Gibbons, who in September announced the opening of an academy for both sexes, where the various educational branches are "taught on unerring principles." Mrs. Gibbons was to "instruct little girls in Spelling, Reading, Sewing, and Marking." To the notice of an evening school for young men is appended: "N. B. Good pronunciation."

Two years later there was a private school opposite the post office; John Mabon taught the Brooklyn Select Academy; and at the inn of Benjamin Smith, on Christmas-eve, an exhibition was given by the pupils of Platt Kennedy. At this time the town had a floor-cloth factory, eight or ten looms were at work in Crichton's cotton goods manufactory, and over one hundred people worked in rope-walks. Abraham Remsen kept the one dry goods store at Fulton and Front streets.

Over the Black Horse tavern lived for a time the "Rain-water Doctor," who was consulted by people coming great distances. This strange man dealt mostly in herbs and simples, but his specialty was rain water, which he praised as containing power to cure all manner of ills. He often signed himself, "Sylvan, Enemy of Human Diseases." Sylvan was evidently the first of a long list of "rain-water" quacks, against whom the regular practitioners of this and later periods had occasion to contend.[6]

At the time when the census of Long Island (in 1811) estimated the population of Brooklyn at 4402, rapid progress had also been made by other towns in the county. Flatlands, which does not seem to have been particularly disturbed by the British occupation,--the church and schools continuing their regular sessions throughout the period,--built a new church in 1794, which was painted red and sanded, and had Lombardy poplars in front and rear. Church-going was a cold experience in those days, the new church, like its predecessors, being without means of heating, save the foot-stoves carried by women. It was not until 1825 that a large wood-stove was introduced. The schoolhouse stood within the original lines of the graveyard.

Gravesend, which had passed through an active early period, had in 1810 a population of 520. The hamlet was conservative in its habits of life and slow in numerical growth. To reach Coney Island from Gravesend at this time, it was necessary to ford the creek at low tide. The Coney Island Bridge and Road Company was organized in 1823. To get their letters the Gravesend people were obliged to go to Flatbush.[7] The old schoolhouse, after being in service for sixty years, was in 1788 succeeded by a larger building, which was in service for half a century. The Reformed Church records were still kept in the Dutch language. The church was a long low building with a gallery, under which, on the west side, were the negro quarters.

Flatbush had had a taste of the Revolutionary fighting, and suffered considerably during the British occupation.[8]

The mill finished in 1804, on John C. Vanderveer's farm, is described as the first mill on the island. The mills became a prominent feature of Flatbush scenery. Clustered near them were some of the quaintest examples of Dutch and colonial architecture that were to be found in this country. The examples surviving to-day give a distinctive charm to this village. In due time the stocks which had stood in front of the court house, the near-by whipping-post,[9] and the public brew-house all disappeared.

On the 2d of July, 1791, public notice was given of the plan for building a county court house and jail at Flatbush. The notice stated that the conditions would be made known by application to Charles Doughty, Brooklyn Ferry, and that propositions in writing would be received until July 15 by him and Johannes E. Lott, of Flatbush, and Rutgert Van Brunt of Gravesend.

Cruger, while mayor of New York city, had his residence within the village. Generals Howe, Clinton, and other leading Tories had their headquarters within its limits subsequent to the battle of Brooklyn.

Erasmus Hall, at Flatbush, was erected in 1786, its charter bearing the same date as that of the Easthampton Academy. The first public exhibition of Erasmus Hall was held September 27, 1787, "and the scene," says Stiles, "was graced by the presence of the Governor of the State, several members of the Assembly, and a large concourse of prominent gentlemen of the vicinity." The subject of public instruction continued to be agitated in the public prints and the pulpit, and the attention of the Legislature was repeatedly called by the Governor's messages to the paramount need of having a regular school system throughout the State. Finally, in 1795, that body passed "an act for the encouragement of schools," and made an appropriation of $50,000 per annum for five years "for the purpose of encouraging and maintaining schools in the several cities and towns in this State in which children of the inhabitants residing in the State shall be instructed in the English language or be taught English grammar, arithmetic, mathematics, and such other branches of knowledge as are most useful and necessary to complete a good English education."

The Rev. Dr. John H. Livingston, who, with Senator John Vanderbilt, brought about, the establishment of the academy, was succeeded as principal by Dr. Wilson, who also held a professorship at Columbia College. The records of the academy reveal an interesting list of names, and the institution has held an important relation to the educational interests of Flatbush.

New Utrecht, where the first resistance to the British forces had been offered, and whose church had been used as a hospital and also as a riding-school by the British officers, was quick to assume its wonted ways after the departure of the troops when peace with England had been declared. During the period between 1787 and 1818 the Rev. Petrus Lowe was the pastor.[10]

The progress of Bushwick after the Revolution was noteworthy. The old Dutch church had been built early in the last century. The dominies from Brooklyn and Flatbush had previously ministered to the people when occasion called. The old octagonal church received a new roof in 1790, a front gallery five years later, and so it remained until 1840. Stiles[11] mentions Messrs. Freeman and Antonides as the earliest pastors, and Peter Lowe as serving here until 1808. A regiment of Hessians had their winter quarters here in 1776, barracks being put up on the land of Abraham Luqueer, and free use being made of wood from the Wallabout swamp. The case of Hendrick Suydam was typical. Suydam had to give quarters in his house,[12] and the filthy habits of these unsavory mercenaries were shockingly characteristic of this unhappy period. Stiles mentions, among the "patriots of Bushwick," John Provost, John A. Meserole, John I. Meserole, Jacob Van Cott, David Miller, William Conselyea, Nicholas Wyckoff, and Alexander Whaley, but no such list gives due honor to the service of all the Bushwick patriots.

After the Revolution Bushwick had "three distinct settlements or centres of population." These were "Het Dorp," the original town plot at the junction of North Second Street and Bushwick Avenue; "Het Kivis Padt," on the cross-roads at the junction of Bushwick Avenue and the Flushing Road; and "Het Strand," along the East River shore. The first mentioned was the centre of village activity, with the old church for chief landmark.

Of the town house with its tall liberty pole, Field[13] writes: "Long after the Revolution the old town house continued to be the high seat of justice, and to resound with the republican roar of vociferous electors on town meeting days. The first Tuesday in April and the fourth of July, in each succeeding year, found Het Dorp suddenly metamorphosed from a sleepy Dutch hamlet into a brawling, swaggering country town, with very debauched habits. Our Dutch youth had a most enthusiastic tendency, and ready facility in adopting the convivial customs and uproarious festivity of the loud-voiced and arrogant Anglo-American youngers.[14] One day the close-fisted electors of Bushwick devised a plan for easing the public burdens by making the town house pay part of the annual taxes, and accordingly it was rented to a Dutch publican, who afforded shelter to the justices and constables, and by his potent liquors contributed to furnish them with employment.

"In this mild partnership, so quietly aiding to fill each others' pockets, our old friend Chas. Zimmerman had a share, until he was ousted, because he was a better customer than landlord. The services of the church were conducted in the Dutch language until about the year 1830. The clergyman had the care of five churches, each of which received his spiritual services in turn. The homely but pious men who performed these duties were sometimes learned and dignified gentlemen, always a little aristocratic in their ways, for the dominie of a Dutch colony was an important functionary, whom the Governor-General himself could not snub with impunity. One of their self-indulgent customs would strike a modern community with horror. On arriving at the church, just before the time for Sunday service, the good dominie was wont to refresh himself from the fatigue of his long ride with a glass of some of the potent liquors of the time at the bar of the town house.

"At last the electors of Bushwick got tired of keeping a hotel, and unanimously quit-claimed their title to the church. Some time after the venerable structure [the town house] was sold to an infidel Yankee, at whose bar the good dominie could no longer feel free to take an inspiriting cup before entering the pulpit, and the glory of the town house of Bushwick departed."

The graveyard of the original Dutch settlement lay in sight of the church, and the last remains within its borders were not disturbed until 1879, when the bones were removed in boxes and placed under the Bushwick Church. Not far distant were the De Voe, De Bevoise, and Wyckoff houses, the last named built by Theodorus Polhemus, of Flatbush.[15]

On the river front was the famous tavern of "Charlum" Titus. Toward Bushwick Creek was the Wartman homestead. On Division Avenue was the Boerum house; the Remsen house was on Clymer Street. Peter Miller, Frederic De Voe, and William Van Cott were prominent residents.

On Newtown Creek stood Luqueer's mill, built in 1664, by Abraham Jansen, and the second to be erected within the limits of the present city of Brooklyn. Freekes' mill at Gowanus was the oldest, a pond being formed by damming the head of Gowanus Kill. Remsen's mill was at the Wallabout. It was built in 1710, and it was from the vantage ground of his residence here that Rem Remsen witnessed so many of the prison-ship horrors. Remsen performed many humane acts toward the unfortunates of the floating dungeons.

The boundary dispute between Newtown and Bushwick--a wrangle beginning in Stuyvesant's day and lasting until 1769--forms one of the most picturesque features of political life in the history of the two towns. "Arbitration Rock," as a famous landmark in the survey was called, having been destroyed, a new rock was placed in position by Nicholas Wyckoff, with the permission of the Commissioners appointed to resurvey the line in 1880, and still remains.

We have seen that one section of the town of Bushwick, or rather an outlying group of farms and houses, lay on the river front. Traffic to and from New York naturally passed through this river section of the settlement. At the beginning of the century Richard M. Woodhull, a New York merchant, established a horse-ferry from Corlaer's Hook, close to the foot of the present Grand Street, New York, to the foot of the Long Island road, now bearing the name of North Second Street.

The New York landing-place of the ferry was then considerably above the settled part of the town. In New York at this period the tendency of development still was along the eastern side of the island. "The seat of the foreign trade," says Mr. Janvier, "was the East River front; of the wholesale domestic trade, in Pearl and Broad streets, and about Hanover Square; of the retail trade, in William, between Fulton and Wall. Nassau Street and upper Pearl Street were places of fashionable residence; as were also lower Broadway and the Battery. Upper Broadway, paved as far as Warren Street, no longer was looked upon as remote and inaccessible; and people with exceptionally long heads were beginning, even, to talk of it as a street with a future; being thereto moved, no doubt, by consideration of its magnificent appearance as the great central thoroughfare of the city upon Mangin's prophetic map."

Notwithstanding the development of New York on the East River side, there were two miles of travel between Woodhull's ferry and the business part of the city. Woodhull bought and "boomed" property in the vicinity of the ferry road on the Long Island side, then known as Bushwick Street, and to the settlement in this region he gave the name of Williamsburgh, "in compliment to his friend, Colonel Williams, U. S. engineer, by whom it was surveyed." A ferry-house, a tavern, a hay-press, appeared on the scene.

"An auction was held," writes John M. Stearns,[16] "at which a few building lots were disposed of. But the amount realized came far short of restoring to Woodhull the money he had thus prematurely invested. His project was fully a quarter of a century too soon. It required half a million of people in the city of New York, before settlers could be induced to move across the East River away from the attractions of a commercial city. Woodhull found that notes matured long before he could realize from the property; and barely six years had passed before he was a bankrupt, and the site of his new city became subject to sale by the sheriff. By divers shifts the calamity was deferred until September 11, 1811, when the right, title, and interest of Richard M. Woodhull in the original purchase, and in five acres of the Francis J. Titus estate, purchased by him in 1805, near Fifth Street, was sold by the sheriff in favor of one Roosevelt. James H. Maxwell, the son-in-law of Woodhull, became the purchaser of Williamsburgh; but not having the means to continue his title thereto, it again passed under the sheriff's hammer, although a sufficient number of lots had by this time been sold to prevent its re-appropriation to farm and garden purposes."

Then came Thomas Morrell, of Newtown, who bought the Titus homestead farm of twenty-eight acres, prepared a map, and set down Grand Street as a dividing line. In 1812, Morrell obtained from New York city a grant for a ferry from Grand Street, Bushwick, to Grand Street, New York.

This new town site, extending between North Second Street as far over as the present South First Street, received the name of Yorkton. The rivalry between the Morrell and the Woodhull ferry became very heated. "While Morrell succeeded as to the ferry," writes Mr. Stearns, "Woodhull managed to preserve the name Williamsburgh; which applied at first to the thirteen acres originally purchased, and had extended itself to adjoining lands so as to embrace about thirty acres, as seen in Poppleton's map in 1814, and another in 1815, of property of J. Homer Maxwell. But the first ferry had landed at Williamsburgh, and the turnpike went through Williamsburgh out into the island. Hence, both the country people and the people coming from the city, when coming to the ferry, spoke of coming to Williamsburgh. Thus Yorkton was soon unknown save on Loss's map, and in the transactions of certain land-jobbers. Similarly the designations of old farm locations, being obsolete to the idea of a city or a village, grew into disuse; and the whole territory between Wallabout Bay and Bushwick Creek became known as Williamsburgh."

At this time the owners of shore property refused to have a road opened through their property or along the shore. The two ferries were not connected by shore road, nor with the Wallabout region, and neither ferry prospered during the lifetime of either Woodhull or Morrell. General Johnson, in going from his Wallabout farm to Williamsburgh, "had to open and shut no less than seventeen barred gates within a distance of a mile and a half along the shore." The owners opposed Johnson's movement for a road, but with the aid of the Legislature the road was opened, business at the ferries immediately improved, and Williamsburgh began to grow. A Methodist congregation built a church in 1808; a hotel appeared at about the same time, and in 1814 there were 759 persons in the town. Noah Waterbury, by the building of a distillery at the foot of North Second Street and other enterprises, earned the title of "The Father of Williamsburgh."