UC-NRLF 
 
 $B 72fl Dlfl 
 
 I I 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 

 [mSONAL IBlINISCENCES 
 
 MEN AND THINGS 
 ON LONG ISLAND 
 
 ^ DANIEL M.TREDWELL 
 
 CHARLES A. DITMAS 
 
 BROOKLYN NEW YORK 
 
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES 
 
 OF 
 
 MEN AND THINGS 
 
 ON LONG ISLAND 
 
 PART ONE 
 
 BY DANIEL M. TREDWELL 
 
 Author of "A Sketch of the Life of Apollonius of Tyana," "Monograph on 
 Pri'vately Illustrated Books, A Plea for Bibliomania," Etc., Etc. 
 
 Charles Andrew Ditmas 
 
 PUBLISHER 
 350 FULTON STREET, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK CITY 
 
 1912 
 
Coyprighted 1912 
 
 By Daniel M. Tredwell 
 
 Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 First edition of five hundred copies. 
 
 No — 
 
 (Xa^v^Q-iO;!^ 
 
 CkyQy 
 
F 12.1 
 
 L«Ti 
 
 CHAPTERS CONTENTS page 
 
 I. Prefatory— 1838 13 
 
 II. Fourth of July, 1838. Visit to Judge Riker of New York. 
 Phenomena of Falling Stars, August 1, 1838. Timber 
 and Fuel 23 
 
 III. Brick. Neighboring Towns. School at Hempstead. The 
 
 Tinder Box 32 
 
 IV. Historic White Oak Tree. Capture of the Schooner, 
 
 I'Armistad. Indian Shell Heaps. Indians of Long 
 Island 45 
 
 V. The Indians of Long Island 58 
 
 VI. The Geology of Long Island. Sheep Parting. Ancient 
 
 Laws in Regard to Sheep Herding 81 
 
 VII. Natural History of Long Island. Professor J. P. Giraud, 
 
 Jr. Long Island Ichthyology 94 
 
 VIII. The Family Picnic. The Broom Factory. Mr. Terry's 
 Invention. Testimonial to Captain Raynor Rock Smith. 
 The Famous Horse Race 110 
 
 IX. Crows. The Millerite Camp Meeting 125 
 
 X. The Customs of the Marshing Season 135 
 
 XI. Saturday Night at Milburn Corners. The Trip to Sag 
 Harbor. Sag Harbor, July 26, 1843. Southampton. 
 The Old Sayre House. Modern Sag Harbor 150 
 
 XII. The Plover. The Hon. Samuel Latham Mitchill, M.D., 
 LL.D. The Long Island Railroad. Reduced Postage 
 Rates 163 
 
 ivi360416 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS page 
 
 Portrait, Daniel M. Tredwell Frontispiece 
 
 Map of Long Island 23 
 
 Residence of Elias Hicks 33 
 
 Seaman Homestead, Westbury, L. 1 34 
 
 The Old District School, Hempstead, L. 1 37 
 
 Tinder Box, Flint and Steel 43 
 
 The John Howard Payne Cottage at East Hampton, L. 1 158 
 
 Old Sayre Homestead at Southampton, Said To Have Been Built 
 in 1648 160 
 
 Portrait, Hon. Samuel Latham Mitchill, M.D., LL.D 166 
 
 The Old Sammis Hotel at Hempstead, L. 1 167 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 Prefatory — 1838. 
 
 HIS work is in no sense intended as a consecutive 
 History of Long Island. These relations attach 
 rather to the individual than to the locality, and 
 are simply a collection of personal experiences of 
 the author, with an account of the customs and 
 traditions which have passed out of use and out of general 
 recollection, and are related here precisely in the sequence in 
 which they transpired, or as they were revealed to the author, 
 and which may or may not have historical value. 
 
 As stated further on and more fully, the events are se- 
 lected from a personal diary kept in chronological order and 
 extending over a period of nearly half a century, with com- 
 ments and elaborations upon such events made, in some in- 
 stances, many years later, as remembered by the author, and 
 having some pertinent relations to the locality, with but little 
 relation, maybe, to each other, and which in their detail sel- 
 dom rise to the dignity of history. 
 
 The first English settlement within the bounds of Queens 
 County was at Hempstead, in 1640. The English settlers in 
 the towns of Queens County acknowledged Dutch supremacy. 
 The first substantial movement toward immigration was No- 
 vember 14, 1644, when the grant of a patent was made to 
 some Stamford colonists. This grant extended from Long 
 Island Sound on the North to the South Sea (Atlantic Ocean), 
 accompanied by the condition that one hundred families should 
 be settled thereon within five years. From this period, many 
 English settlers came from Connecticut. Some came from the 
 East end of Long Island, a large number of whom, the better 
 conditioned styling themselves planters, settled on the common 
 lands of the interior, taking up large areas; the poorer classes 
 
 13 
 
settled on the necks near the bay. The necks were fertile tracts 
 of land covered with forests, in many instances, to the edge of 
 the South Bay. They were hives of population and sent out 
 annually hundreds of men of muscle to man our merchant ships 
 and Navy. The struggle for life was more favored on the 
 necks than the inside lands; the settler had the never failing 
 supply from the waters of the bay while his lands were being 
 cleared and made available for agriculture. 
 
 We grew up amid the familiar names of Seaman, Hew- 
 lett, Denton, Mott, Carman, Bedell, Coe, Snedeker, Searing, 
 Jackson, Alison, Cornwell, Raynor, Hicks, Smith, Weeks, 
 Pettit, Rushmore, Eldert, Langdon, Wright, Remsen, Town- 
 send, Duryea, Baldwin, Johnson, Gildersleeve, Combes, Titus, 
 Hendrickson. These were all familiar names to us when a 
 boy. They are now represented in every calling and profes- 
 sion in the Union. 
 
 We are not limited to any special territory in these notes, 
 but generally our range will be the South Side of Long Island, 
 from Rockaway to East Hampton, and the Plain Edge on the 
 North, including the territory under the Kleft purchase. 
 
 In retrospecting the happy period immediately preceding 
 and during the early stages of this Journal, the habits of the 
 people of our native place were simple beyond modern concep- 
 tions of simplicity. Although being but twenty-two miles from 
 the great and fashionable metropolis. New York, then con- 
 taining a population of less than two hundred thousand, it re- 
 flected none of its gay life or trappings upon our immediate 
 community. Communication was had with New York every 
 alternate day by stage, going one day and returning the next. 
 There was also communication by packet. Fifteen or twenty 
 of these staunch sailing vessels, furnished with accommodations 
 for passengers. In limited numbers, were constantly plying be- 
 tween our port (Hempstead) and New York, Albany, New- 
 Brunswick, Newark and Brooklyn. A large portion of farm 
 produce reached the New York market by water, and all 
 
 14 
 
bulky goods and building material were transported in like 
 manner. 
 
 The difficulty of communication and of getting about 
 from place to place kept people Isolated, undisturbed by con- 
 tact and antagonisms from without and uninformed of one 
 another. They grew apart, awry and intellectually splay- 
 footed. Newspapers, according to the modern conception of 
 newspapers, were unknown. 
 
 The distinction of classes was much less marked than at 
 present. Domestic service was a friendly and intimate rela- 
 tion of equals. The soil smiled with plenty, the bays swarmed 
 with fish and the coverts with game. But all this old civiliza- 
 tion so dear to us has been most iniquitously supplanted by the 
 tyrannous bustle of the up-to-date man. Sixty-eight trains pass 
 and repass daily within a few hundred feet of the old home- 
 stead where we were born, and a journey in these early days 
 to the City of New York, which consumed two days, is now 
 performed in a less number of hours. The above are but few 
 of the changes which have taken place in and about the old 
 homestead during a period covered by these notes. 
 
 The simplicity and economy of the household in those 
 days were of the most vigorous character. Breakfast was us- 
 ually at six in the morning, always by candle light in winter, 
 dinner at twelve, and supper at six. Evening visiting was a 
 common social entertainment during the winter months, quilt- 
 ing parties and gatherings at which hickory nuts, apples, new- 
 cider, crullers and doughnuts were among the refreshments, 
 and in some more pretentious gatherings dancing was not un- 
 common. But by far the most popular were the evening tea 
 parties, when both old and young could participate. 
 
 The clothing worn in winter was made from the wool 
 raised on the farm. These garments were emphatically the 
 product of the farm, from the raw material to the made-up 
 garments. The surplusage of the wool or cloth was sold, 
 stockings were made from the same material. Of all the 
 phases of the wool industry, from the raw material to its con- 
 is 
 
summation, none were more fascinating than the spinning into 
 yarn the wool rolls. We have watched the work for hours, 
 when a child, of our grandmother, her comeliness and grace, 
 "beyond the reach of art," as she moved up and down, back 
 and forth, erect and dignified, beside the big wheel, which she 
 kept whirling with one hand and held the wool roll in the 
 other, and watched the spindle take up the yarn; these things 
 spell-bound us, and eighty years have not effaced them from 
 our memory. It transcends all the skill of the most accom- 
 plished professor in the art of gracefulness, and all perfectly 
 natural. She was our Ariadne. 
 
 The flax from which summer clothing was made 
 was also raised on the farm. It was pulled, the 
 woody part rotted, crackled, hatcheled, spun, woven and made 
 into garments on the premises. These methods were true of 
 nearly all the clothing worn, bed sheets and table linen were 
 made of the same material. The leather for shoes was made 
 from the hide of the cattle slain in the fall for winter supply 
 of food for the household. It was tanned at the village tan- 
 nery and made into shoes by an itinerant shoemaker who lived 
 with the family while engaged on the work. And hence ( from 
 the animals killed for food) came the candles for the winter 
 supply of light manufactured by a very simple process and 
 called dips. 
 
 There were many products of the farm which brought in 
 a small revenue. All kinds of truck were raised for home 
 consumption, the surplusage sold. The principal cereals raised 
 for market were Oats and Corn for which there was always a 
 demand at the stores, where they were taken in payment for 
 goods. Cattle, sheep and hogs were fatted and sold to herds- 
 men who purchased for cash, on the hoof, and drove them to 
 New York for slaughter. 
 
 In our homestead the faithful old Tinder Box was the 
 Lares and Penates as it was of every household on Long Is- 
 land without which civilization could not have been maintained. 
 (An account of the Tinder Box Is given in this work.) 
 
 16 
 
Coal (mineral) was unknown to the farmers as fuel. 
 Warmth was obtained in winter in our homes from a wood 
 fire maintained in a corner fireplace, four and a half feet high 
 and ten feet wide, in front of which, or into which the family 
 usually sat, and the greater the heat generated in front the 
 more cold there was in the rear. To get an all round uniform 
 warmth from the old fashioned fireplace was a thing unknown 
 and impossible. When the Franklin was Installed, which was 
 simply a portable iron fireplace set out in the room, great com- 
 fort was introduced Into the household and it was also a great 
 saving of fuel. On its introduction the old fireplace went out 
 of commission, was boarded up and became a convenient stor- 
 age for wood and a deposit of filth from a colony of Chimney 
 Swallows. The great merit in the Franklin was Its substitu- 
 tion of an iron portable fireplace for the stationary one of 
 stone, tile, or brick, the former of which generated heat all 
 around. 
 
 Improvement after improvement followed in the Frank- 
 .lin until perfection was nearly attained. No special credit is 
 due to any one individual, unless It be to Count Rumford who 
 made a cook stove with an oven, then for the first time was 
 learned how to bake and cook and be protected from the di- 
 rect heat of the fire, which had formerly been done In front of 
 the blazing fire of the hearth, or in a brick oven detached from 
 the house. 
 
 From these early methods of our ancestors, from the old 
 corner fireplace to the modern steam heat, from the old tallow 
 candle to electricity, from the wheat shock In the field to a bag 
 of Hecker's prepared flour were long and tedious processes of 
 evolution. Machinery has also solved its great problem from 
 the sickle and sythe to the reaping machine and from the old 
 flail, which resounded on the barn floor all winter long, in 
 separating the seed from the sheaf, Is now accomplished In 
 hours by the threshing machine where months were formerly 
 involved. The next stage of development was from the house 
 to the factory. 
 
 17 
 
Wages were ridiculously low compared with modern 
 times. Carpenters, painters and masons received six shillings 
 per day and found, farm hands, laborers, ten dollars per 
 month In winter and fifteen dollars in summer and board. A 
 day's work was from sun to sun. Plain board at a farm house 
 could be obtained at six shillings per week; women help in the 
 house, six shillings per week. 
 
 There are some customs which seem deficient In that qual- 
 ity we call common sense, or precaution. That of conducting 
 elections at the period of the opening of the following Journal 
 was one. At the Spring meeting of the freeholders, or Spring 
 elections, at the Village of Hempstead, most of the important 
 laws were adopted by viva-voce vote, ayes and nayes, or the up- 
 lifting of hands; boundaries of territory and leases of land 
 were determined and pay of officers was fixed In this manner, 
 every voter having two hands fraud might have affected in the 
 count. Nor less primitive were the general elections for 
 county, state and national officers, primaries were then un- 
 known. These elections were held three consecutive days at 
 convenient localities in the town for voters. Think of it — on 
 the close of the polls of the first day's ballot at Merrick a mo- 
 tion was made by one of the inspectors, there being three, 
 "That Smith Abrams (an inspector) shall be made the cus- 
 todian of the ballot boxes and their contents until the next 
 meeting of this board at sun-rise to-morrow at the inn of 
 Thomas Baldwin at Hicks Neck." Whereupon the slots of the 
 ballot boxes were sealed by pasting a paper over the slot, and 
 placed in the buggy of Smith Abrams to be taken to his home, 
 faithfully guarded and delivered for the next day's polling. 
 Developments since that period have made it necessary to be 
 more circumspect in the disposition of ballot boxes. A class 
 of patriots has developed out of the party element known by 
 the patronymic name of ^'Ballot Box Stuffers." 
 
 Newspapers as such were luxuries enjoyed by few. A 
 Village paper, The Hempstead Inquirer, first published May 
 6, 1830, and called The Long Island Telegraph and Friend 
 
 18 
 
of Education; the name of which was changed to Hemp- 
 stead Enquirer, November 11, 1831, and so continues to-day. 
 Also The Long Island Farmer published at Jamaica. These 
 papers, both weeklies, were left by the stage driver at our house 
 once a week and were our weekly supply of literature and in- 
 formation from the outside world. 
 
 Another prized souvenir of household literature was the 
 Farmer's Almanac, a file of which hung seasoning in the chim- 
 ney corner. It was consulted concerning the rising and setting 
 of the Sun and Moon and their various phases, a record of the 
 tides, changes In the weather; It also contained a chronology of 
 historical events from the Garden of Eden to the present time. 
 Besides all the above it contained a fund of anecdote, valuable 
 medical receipts, and was Invaluable as a guide to plain family 
 cooking, and much valuable statistics, and its prognostications 
 on the weather met with no more ridicule than the present 
 Weather Bureau at Washington. 
 
 One of our earliest literary experiences was with an Old 
 Farm Diary in manuscript which had been about our house 
 from our earliest recollection. It was an imperfect document 
 of about sixty large foolscap pages, the beginning and ending 
 pages were missing, the corners of the remaining pages were 
 worn off from use, or disuse, the ink had faded to a dingy 
 brown, but the penmanship was a masterpiece of excellence. 
 Judging from the date entries on the surviving pages It prob- 
 ably covered a period from 1720 to 1744 and as far as our 
 memory goes contained matter relating principally t}o the 
 farm productions and their disposition, accounts of journeys 
 In such behalf, with many useful hints of how to run a planta- 
 tion and make it pay. It also contained accounts of jour- 
 neys made to Sag Harbor and the Hamptons on horseback. 
 These trips constituted a great traveler In our mind at the time 
 and we read them over and over with the utmost delight. No 
 value was set upon this old manuscript at our house, but from 
 our earliest recollection we were pleased to hear It read by my 
 sister and we treasured up much of Its contents. It was evl- 
 
 19 
 
dently written by one of our ancestors who had occupied the 
 old homestead two or three generations before us. The names 
 of slaves of whom my father had heard were mentioned in it, 
 canvassing some of their good or bad qualities. The old slave 
 quarters at our homestead survived to our day, and were lo- 
 cated about four hundred feet in the rear of our dwelling. We 
 remember them many years after they had ceased to be used 
 as quarters for negroes, and when they were used as a shelter 
 and stable for horses and cows. The old building had a thatch 
 roof and the clapboards were of oak. It was burned in 1834. 
 Slaves were manumitted in this state in 1827 by an amended 
 act of 1811 which required that those of a certain age should 
 be provided for during life with a home on the estate. We 
 distinctly remember two of them who left home every spring, 
 tramped all summer and invariably came home in winter to 
 board. Slaves were never a profitable investment on Long 
 Island. They were an aristocratic equipment to a plantation, 
 but the cost of feeding and clothing more than offset their 
 labor. One Long Island farmer said that, *'the hogs had eaten 
 all his corn and his slaves had eaten his hogs and all he had 
 was niggers.^' In after years when we had become old enough 
 to suspect that this old diary might contain many valuable 
 facts of local and family history we sought for it about the 
 old homestead, but it had disappeared, whence no one knew. 
 However, the old manuscript, by which it will be known in 
 these Reminiscences had made a lasting impression on our 
 mind and our first unfledged literary efforts were made in imi- 
 tation of it, and we made a resolution early in life to write a 
 diary of the events of our life. In fulfillment of that resolu- 
 tion we had scarcely learned to write when we attempted to 
 keep a record of events. Nothing however came from our 
 earliest random method. No persistent efforts were made to- 
 ward a regular journal until 1838. And this Journal com- 
 menced in 1838, was continued uninterruptedly for nearly fifty 
 years. 
 
 Looking over this Journal and loose notes in 1884, we 
 
 20 
 
determined to destroy them in consequence of some unwise 
 things in them, but on second thought it occurred to us that the 
 time spent in a revision of them and a chronological arrange- 
 ment would be time not wholly wasted in the estimation of 
 many of our surviving relatives. We consequently undertook 
 the task the result of which will be placed before the reader 
 in these gossippy notes, preserving only such material having 
 directly or indirectly some literary, scientific or historical sig- 
 nificance to the subject matter indicated by the title hereto. 
 We have felt a deep solicitude in the old Journal, and having a 
 delicacy in preserving it in consequence of the above referred 
 to entries and personal references never intended for other 
 eyes than our own, and hope that its revision in its present 
 form may meet with the approval of the readers of this Vol- 
 ume. 
 
 If the reader, born and reared amid all the conveniences 
 and luxuries of modern life can conceive with any assurance 
 the period when John Quincy Adams was President, or a state 
 of society before anthracite coal — before kindling wood — ^be- 
 fore gas — before friction matches — when there was no canned 
 fruit — no sewing machines — no typewriters — no telegraph — 
 no expresses — no mail — no railroads — when eggs were fifteen 
 for a shilling — chewing tobacco three pence a paper and whis- 
 key three pence a glass, when there were no policemen — no 
 tramps — no cigarettes — an age before the innovation of blot- 
 ting paper or steel pens, and when everybody was happy and 
 content, he may form a pretty fair conception of the surround- 
 ings under which the boy chronicler of these notes was born. 
 
 The idea of destroying these notes was the effect of read- 
 ing a review of the Greville Memoirs in the Quarterly Review, 
 London, of 1844. "Don't keep a Journal," says the Review, 
 and the reasons given were convincing to us. 
 
 The Journal originally consisted of over one thousand 
 foolscap pages which after a revision and emendation are now 
 first published. No effort has been made to evade personal or 
 family references in the matters quoted from the Journal. 
 
 21 
 
The quotations are verbatim reproduction, (except in the oc- 
 casional interpolation of a more expressive word or sentence) 
 and are designated in this reproduction by the 10 point type of 
 the printed text of this volume; the comments are in 11 point 
 type. 
 
 22 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Fourth of July, 1838. — Visit to Judge Richard Riker of New York. — 
 Phenomena of Falling Stars, August 1, 1838. — Timber and Fuel. 
 
 Thursday, July 5, 1838. 
 
 ESTERDAY morning, early, my father took a team and 
 the big wagon and carried a load of men and boys, prin- 
 cipally boys, to Jamaica as a Fourth of July jubilee and 
 to hear an oration by Mr. Vanderhoff. 
 
 The ride to Jamaica was enjoyed by everyone. Af- 
 ter the ceremonies were over we returned by way of 
 Hempstead, stopping at the Plains just northwest from Hempstead to 
 see an encampment of New York State Militia there for recreation 
 and practice. They had been there for several days. 
 
 This was an extraordinary spectacle to us. We had never seen the 
 like before. It seemed like real war, and we started out on a crusade 
 of investigation; but to obtain the true inwardness of a military camp 
 in commission is likely to be attended with difficulties, as the sequel will 
 show. By persistence, however, we did find out that the encampment 
 was of the Thirteenth Regiment, of Brooklyn, under Colonel Abel 
 Smith, who had just been commissioned, and was encamped on the 
 plains for target and other tactical practice, for recreation, and to create 
 an individual social solidity in the personnel of the regiment. The 
 Thirteenth was also entertaining some companies of New York State 
 Militia from the upper part of the state, who were on a visit to the 
 Thirteenth and were occupying a camp adjoining. 
 
 The two camps made a great show, with a very warlike aspect. 
 We saw but little of the manoeuvering of the troops, but we had some 
 military experience which was quite salutary. While we were trying 
 to learn the names of the Brooklyn companies and other things, we had 
 proceeded so far as to ascertain that one company was the ^'Brooklyn 
 Light Guards" and another the "City Guards." At this point we found 
 ourselves suddenly surrounded by half a dozen fierce looking fighting 
 men, to whom we surrendered, and were taken in charge by two fellows 
 in "soger close" and guns, who invited us to take a walk with them, 
 and we were marched out of the camp. 
 
 As soon as recognized by our friends thus flanked by two soldiers, 
 they gave cheer after cheer, all of which did not seem very funny to us. 
 However, this was the grand accentuated event of the day. Father 
 thought we had captured the militiamen, but when he learned the true 
 state of affairs, declared that it was only through an act of the greatest 
 clemency, under the military code, that we had not been shot. 
 
 23 
 
Monday, July 16, 1838. 
 
 My Uncle Oliver Ellsworth, of New York City, with whom we 
 were spending a few days of our vacation, had an engagement last 
 evening at the house of Hon. Richard Riker, Recorder of the City of 
 New York, and invited us to accompany him. We gladly accepted the 
 invitation. Judge Riker resides on Fulton Street, near Nassau; we do 
 riot remember the number. We were introduced to the Judge. He is 
 very simple-mannered, is regarded as a clear-headed man and a 
 dignified, honest magistrate. He had held the office of Recorder with 
 honor a great many years, and he is immensely popular and has an un- 
 sullied official reputation. Now, while no disrespect apparently is in- 
 tended to Judge Riker, the strange anomaly appears in the free and 
 easy use of his name. He is always described as "Dickey Riker." Why 
 this minimized slang, cant, or nickname should be so generally, or at 
 all, applied to Judge Riker is to us an unsolved riddle. It is a travesty 
 on reputation. 
 
 Recorder Riker is not captious or quarrelsome, and he is of great 
 flexibility of manner, not disposed to acts which might impugn his good 
 name or shock the most delicate public sensibility; and yet he bears scars 
 inflicted in a most disreputable meeting with one Robert Swartwont at 
 Hoboken. Who the aggressor was in this affair of honor we have never 
 learned, but we are far from believing that Judge Riker provoked such 
 a crisis. 
 
 The interview with my uncle w^as held in an adjoining room, which, 
 being concluded, we left. Long shall we remember the interview with 
 the courteous Magistrate "Dickey Riker." 
 
 Thursday, August 2, 1838. 
 
 Last evening our community was startled by a display which, al- 
 though by no means a unique occurrence, was nevertheless a noteworthy 
 spectacle. It was a phenomenon of falling stars, meteors. They were 
 not in great profusion, but in sufficient numbers to excite the wonder of 
 those who were fortunate enough to have witnessed them. 
 
 But the interest of our immediate neighborhood was greater than 
 witnessing the mere descent of these glowing bodies through our atmo- 
 sphere. One of them reached the earth and embodied itself in the 
 meadow near the residence of Tredwell Smith, about half a mile from 
 our house. Those who saw the descent say it came with a flash resem- 
 bling a vivid flash of lightning and left a streak of light through the air. 
 
 Hearing of this, and being curious to see the celestial visitor, we, 
 in company with Timothy Tredwell, equally curious, visited the meadow 
 this morning, with the intention of capturing the stranger; but the 
 meteor had already been removed. We saw the fresh-dug hole from 
 which it had been taken and were told that the stone was in the posses- 
 sion of Epenetus Smith, who had removed it. Enquiries were then 
 made of Epenetus Smith. He said that he had the stone locked up in 
 his wagon house and that it was not a stone, but iron; that it was a 
 
 24 
 
great curiosity and he expected to get a big price for it; but he did not 
 oifer to show it to us. 
 
 We never saw that stone, nor do we know postively that 
 Epenetus Smith ever had it. We have his testimony that he 
 had it; it was a matter of public notoriety that he had it, and, 
 further, we have the strong circumstantial evidence of the 
 fresh-dug hole on the day that we saw it. And we have the 
 testimony of the farm hand who helped Epenetus Smith re- 
 move it. And we also have the word of the highly respectable 
 old resident of Merrick, Elijah Smith, surveyor and school- 
 master, that it was on exhibition two successive years at the 
 agricultural show for Queens County. Truth is sometimes 
 wonderfully evasive. 
 
 The visitations of meteoric storms are of so rare an oc- 
 currence that localities have become famous in consequence of 
 having been fortuitously the scene of one of these visitations. 
 In Great Britain, where a record has been kept, it gives ac- 
 counts of only sixteen in two hundred and fifty years which 
 have reached the earth In good condition; they are burned up 
 In their descent. 
 
 Apropos of aerolites, meteoric showers, we remember distinctly the 
 grandest of the kind said to have taken place within the memory of 
 man. It was on the night of November 13, 1833. We were but a child 
 at the time. A little flurry of snow had fallen during the day, giving 
 a conspicuous whiteness to the landscape. The shower came on about 
 eight o'clock in the evening and continued all night, an unlntermitting 
 cascade of fire, during which period hundreds of thousands of meteors 
 must have fallen. They came from all parts of the heavens, and their 
 paths crossed each other at all angles. How many reached the earth we 
 shall never know. The sky was brilliantly tinted in reds and seemed 
 in a blaze from horizon to horizon. The snow was red from reflection, 
 and the atmosphere appeared thick with fire. It was a night of terror 
 at our home, none but the female members of our family being at home 
 in the early evening, and they really believed that the end of the world 
 was at hand. My father came home about ten o'clock. He rebuked 
 us for our fears by his real, or affected, indifference in the impending 
 collapse of all terrestrial things. He talked as familiarly about falling 
 stars as if he were one, and as of no very rare occurrence anyway; he 
 had known many such in his time, and that no harm would come out of 
 it. He pretended that it wasn't much of a shower anyhow. This as- 
 
 3 25 
 
surance and his own frigid unconcern had the effect of reassuring the 
 rest of the thoroughly frightened household, and a more cheerful spirit 
 pervaded until bed time. The above, the greatest of all meteoric shovi^ers 
 of which there is any record, was witnessed from our home at Hemp- 
 stead South in 1833. 
 
 The record of this phenomenon in the Astronomical De- 
 partment at Washington shows that the extent of territory in 
 which it was observable was from Canada to the Northern 
 boundary of South America, and a longitudinal tract three 
 thousand miles in width. 
 
 From the earliest periods theories were entertained con- 
 cerning the origin of meteors. Diogenes Laertius thought 
 they came from the sun. Pliny laughs at the theory, but utter- 
 ly fails to improve upon it. La Place thought that they came 
 from the depths of space, and at other times he thought they 
 had a lunar origin. The Greek philosophers had four hypoth- 
 eses of their origin, "telluric," raised by hurricanes, a solar 
 origin, or an origin in the regions of space. 
 
 There is a curious legend of the Algonkins, of which all 
 the Long Island Indians were sub-tribes. This legend, which 
 seems to have some pertinence here as showing that they were 
 familiar with meteoric phenomena long before the advent 
 of the white man among them. 
 
 They had been taught to never complain or speak ill of 
 the elements. The severest storms of wind, snow, frost or 
 hail were treated with the greatest respect. They would en- 
 dure great heat or cold without complaining. To complain of 
 the heat or glare of the sun would subject them to blindness. 
 They never murmured at the clouds or stormy weather, lest 
 they be shut up in caves in the mountains where no light can 
 enter. The moon must be treated with the same consideration, 
 for those who said aught against her were in danger of death 
 by fiery rocks from that luminary. 
 
 Dr. Smith says that meteors are mostly iron and have 
 come from some place where there was but little or no oxygen. 
 Now, the moon has no atmosphere, no water and consequently 
 
 26 
 
no oxygen. Many of these meteors are almost pure iron, as 
 Epenetus Smith said his was. Sir Humphry Davy thinks the 
 combustion is caused by the rapidity of descent, that they be- 
 come incandescent and explode by the heat, and not by gases 
 contained in them. In the long record of meteors only four 
 persons are known to have been killed by their fall. 
 
 In the analysis of meteors it is very remarkable that no 
 new chemical element has been detected in any yet discovered. 
 We are familiar with their composition. The largest meteor 
 ever known to have fallen to the earth was one discovered by 
 Captain John Ross near Cape York, Greenland, in 1818. 
 This meteor was by Arctic explorer R. E. Peary, U. S. N., 
 brought to the United States and deposited in the vestibule of 
 the American Museum of Natural History, New York, where 
 it now remains. Its circumference is about eleven feet, its 
 length four feet three inches, and about two and a half feet 
 thick, its weight about 10,000 pounds, and it is ninety-two per 
 cent, pure iron. 
 
 Since the above the Willamette Meteor, found in Wil- 
 lamette Valley, Oregon, was purchased by Mrs. William E. 
 Dodge for $20,000 and deposited in the same museum. It 
 is ten feet three inches long, seven feet wide at the base and 
 four feet thick, and weighs 31,000 pounds. It is ninety per 
 cent, pure iron. 
 
 This museum now contains four great meteors. The 
 British Museum contains several. One of the oldest known, 
 historically, is in a temple at Mecca, Arabia. Its name is the 
 "Right Hand God," and it was worshipped long before the 
 time of Mahommed. Another which was the subject of wor- 
 ship was set up In the temple Cybele at Phrygia. This Is sup- 
 posed to have fallen from Jupiter. It was through the de- 
 cree of this oracle, or of this cult, that Hannibal was obliged 
 to turn back from his intended investment of Rome. It is sup- 
 posed that the image which fell, (The Jupiter), mentioned in 
 The Acts of the Apostles, was a meteor. 
 
 27 
 
Wednesday, August 8, 1838. 
 
 John A. King, of Jamaica, called at our house to-day on some busi- 
 ness with my father, which they evidently did not care to transact in 
 our presence. This being evident to us, we retired without being re- 
 quested, in good order. 
 
 They were together about one hour and a half, when we were 
 called in to witness their signatures to a paper writing, which we did, 
 and Mr. King gave us four shillings. Whether this was a reward for 
 our politeness in retiring or legal fee to which we were entitled for our 
 services, we do not know, nor did we stop to enquire, but accepted the 
 compliment with thanks. 
 
 Monday, August 20, 1838, 
 
 On the first of June last we commenced remodeling our house, and 
 since that time we have been enjoying the novel experience of living in 
 the barn and wagon house, which have been temporarily fitted for oc- 
 cupancy, the horses having been dispossessed. 
 
 The younger members of the family enjoyed exceedingly the in- 
 digent method of life. Yesterday part of the family moved back into 
 the house, made tenantable, but far from completed. 
 
 The carpenters contracting for this work, which was to be done 
 by day's work and to be completed by the third of October, were Tred- 
 well Smith and Abram Johnson. Their compensation is to be six shill- 
 ings per day and board. A similar agreement was made with the painters 
 and masons. All the hauling of lumber and brick was to be performed 
 by my father. 
 
 Some wonderful revelations were made in dismantling the old 
 house, which had been standing over one hundred years. The laths 
 holding the plaster of the walls and ceilings were split laths made by 
 hand, and were held in their places to the studs by wrought nails, also 
 made by hand. Every timber in the old structure, even the rafters, was 
 of oak and had been taken from the woods and squared by hand w^ith 
 an axe, and were as sound as when first put up. The shingles on the 
 east and west gables and the rear were hand-made and an attempt had 
 been made to effect the ornamental by rounding the lower ends of some 
 of them. These shingles were fastened to their places by wrought nails, 
 hammered out by a blacksmith one at a time, and not one of them had 
 been driven to its place until a hole had been drilled for it with a gimlet. 
 The amount of labor and patience required to shingle a house of this 
 kind in this manner would appall any modern mechanic. The shingle 
 gables of the old house were used in the reconstruction. At the time the 
 old house was built, and down to the time of reconstruction, there were 
 no ready-made shingles. They were all made by hand from the lumber 
 cut in uniform lengths; there were no tongued and grooved boards and 
 planks; the planing- machine had not yet been invented; no ready-made 
 doors or window sash, no ready-made wainscoting, no trim, no mould- 
 
 28 
 
ings; all these things, at a vast amount of labor, were manufactured or 
 worked out by hand from the raw material by the mechanic. And a 
 house could be built cheaper then, in 1838, than now, and better. 
 
 Tuesday, September 4, 1838. 
 
 The marshing season commenced this year on the fourth day of 
 September. We had heretofore regarded marshing as a picnic season, 
 but, being admonished that our time could be more profitably spent at 
 school, and being conscious of the fact ourselves, we acquiesced without 
 crushing effect or disappointment. An option, however, was granted 
 for Saturday. 
 
 P. S. — Saturday turned out to be a very stormy day, and our 
 picnic a total failure. 
 
 Saturday, September 8, 1838. 
 
 It has been a custom for many years for owners of large tracts of 
 woodland to sell off portions in the fall for firewood during the winter 
 to those who have no such tracts of reserve woodlands. This unique 
 custom, it is said, is the outgrowth of an earlier one in which the wood 
 was given away to anyone who would remove it from the ground. 
 This was at a period when cleared lands were more desirable than 
 woodlands, the wood being an incumbrance. Nearly all the country 
 was covered with timber then. As years rolled on and woodlands de- 
 creased, and cleared lands and population increased, the timber began 
 to have a commercial value, and a charge was made for the wood re- 
 moved. This custom grew, and the sale of standing wood for fuel be- 
 came a traffic as the supply decreased, and now (1838), to prevent 
 the utter denudation of forests and woodlands laws are being enacted 
 for their preservation, protection being necessary. 
 
 Yesterday we attended the sale by vendue of wood lots of Thomas 
 Carman, of Raynortown. This woods at Coe's Neck had been already 
 surveyed and staked out into plots and numbered, the stakes enclosing 
 plots of standing timber of different values, and were now to be dis- 
 posed of to the highest bidder. 
 
 There were about eighty persons present in the woods at the sale, 
 some buyers, some spectators, and some choppers. Those who intended 
 to buy had, generally, made their selections before the sale. Purchasers 
 had different objects in view in purchasing. Those who wanted fire- 
 wood only selected plots containing the most hickory and oak; some 
 bought plots largely represented in chestnut for splitting into rails for 
 fencing, or making posts ; boat builders selected plots that would cut up 
 the most, and to the best advantage, timber for boat building. There 
 were, sometimes, strongly contested bidding on extraordinarily desirable 
 plots. Occasionally an old, gnarled oak would be worth more than 
 enough to the purchaser to pay for the whole plot, and rails to the far- 
 mer were always an important item. 
 
 29 
 
The terms of the sale, as announced, were ten per cent, down, and 
 the balance before an axe is put in the plot ; all trees of five inches diam- 
 eter or under not included in the sale, and are to be left standing; and 
 all timber remaining on the premises after the first day of March, 1839, 
 shall be forfeited. All the well-to-do farmers of our section owned a 
 reservation of woodland, which they held for an emergency, or perchance, 
 a fuel famine, which for cause sometimes became imminent. It is con- 
 sidered that a well dispositioned farm should have at least twenty-five 
 per cent, of woodland in reserve, and so farmers generally rely upon 
 these fall sales and lay in their firewood from purchases made under 
 them, and preserve their own holdings for an emergency. 
 
 Wood tracts are dwindling away on Long Island, and the time 
 when they will fail utterly is regarded not only as probable, but as 
 absolutely certain, and in the near future; the end is already in sight. 
 And even for the immediate present the problem of firewood for those 
 who hold no reserve of woodland, and of small means, is regarded one 
 of serious import, and getting worse as woods grow scarcer. Whole 
 forests are going up chimneys annually. 
 
 And again, the fuel question is one of the most foremost of all 
 charities in the country districts. With the poor, who cannot provision 
 themselves for a long and tedious winter, that of fuel was not of less 
 importance than that of food. And we know of individuals who have 
 interested themselves with a self-devotion on bitter cold, stormy nights 
 in winter by personally visiting some of their poor neighbors to ascer- 
 tain if they were beyond want, or had sufficient firewood to keep them- 
 selves and families from suffering; and, without ostentation, we know 
 that the private wood piles and pork barrels have contributed time and 
 again to the relief of the cold and hungry, and not through agencies or 
 organized charity bureaus, but by the spontaneous goodness of their 
 humane hearts. 
 
 The wasting away of our forests was an ominous menace 
 to the human race in our latitudes. It was estimated that the 
 next generation would see the final consumption of our forests. 
 And until the discovery and general use of coal as a fuel, this 
 view was pretty generally entertained. Coal was first used for 
 domestic purposes by Judge Jesse Pell of WIlkes-Barre in 
 1808, and so slow was its progress that It was not In general 
 use in 1845, but it solved the problem, and we are no longer 
 dependent exclusively upon our woodland products for this 
 great essential of life. But even now there are timid people 
 who speculate upon the coal exhaustion as being within human 
 probability. But if there is any reliance to be placed upon 
 
 30 
 
science, geology and mathematics, there is anthracite enough in 
 the bowels of our earth to supply us, at the rate of present con- 
 sumption for domestic, mechanical and manufacturing pur- 
 poses, to put off the day of that tribulation at least 60,000 
 years, at which period, it is more than probable, all our obli- 
 gations to humanity will have lapsed. 
 
 31 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Brick. — Neighboring Towns. — School at Hempstead. — ^The Tinder Box. 
 
 Wednesday, October 10, 1838. 
 
 E made the trip yesterday to Manet Hill for brick with 
 which to construct a well. Well brick, that is, brick 
 made specially for wells, or curb brick, were not common 
 in stock with ordinary dealers or brickyards. But the 
 Montforts at their kiln at Manet Hill kept them in stock. 
 We left home about half past four A. M. with two 
 teams. Manet or Manetto Hill is of little or no historical significance, 
 being simply a brick manufactory. It is, however, a radiating point of 
 Indian traditions. It was the fabled home of the great Spirit Sachem, 
 or Manetou of the Algonkin tribes of Long Island, and it was here that 
 some of his marvelous feats were performed. 
 
 Manet Hill is located about midway between Long Island Sound 
 on the North and the Atlantic Ocean on the South, in the town of 
 Oyster Bay, just East from Hicksville. 
 
 Our journey was along the South Road to Merrick, and thence 
 Northerly along the Whale Neck Road (in early times an Indian trail 
 only) to the Plain Edge, or Bethpage Turnpike, thence to Westbury 
 along a road, the continuation of the Whale Neck Road. The journey 
 to this point was uninteresting and without incident. The weather, 
 however, was delightful. There were some well-to-do farmers along 
 the Plain Edge with luxurious surroundings; otherwise the country was 
 poor, with but little show of thrift. We went to Westbury to call 
 upon a relative of our family, after which we drove directly to Hicks- 
 ville. 
 
 Westbury is a quaint old place, the principal attractions of which 
 are the evidences ever5rwhere of its antiquity and traces of the memor- 
 able past. The residences are scattered about at random along a country 
 road, which made itself; the dwellings are very old and still bear the 
 old octagonal cedar shingle dating back to the revolutionary and colonial 
 days. Some of these old houses are still in good preservation and if 
 cleaned up and put in repair, would be good for another hundred years. 
 There are two Friends' meetings houses here. It was here that Elias 
 Hicks, the great Quaker preacher and reformer, was born. He preached 
 a creed which bears his name. He removed to Jericho, where he con- 
 tinued to live until his death in 1830. It was here also that Rachel 
 Hicks was born (born Seaman) in the old Seaman homestead in 1789, 
 and resided until her marriage with Abraham Hicks of Rockaway. The 
 old Seaman homestead is still standing. Rachel was a relative of Elias, 
 
 32 
 
and like her renowned kinsman, became a great preacher and reformer, 
 but not along the same lines. She was a most rigid orthodox Christian. 
 He was avowedly unchristian, declaring that the scriptures had been a 
 great curse to mankind and had been the cause of more evil than good 
 in the world. Hence arose the schism and the two meeting houses at 
 Westbury. 
 
 
 Rachel Hicks died at the age of ninety, having traveled and 
 preached in nearly all the states of the American Union. She is vene- 
 rated here. Many of her followers, however, are slipping away from 
 their simplicity of speech and dress and engaging in the affairs of the 
 world like other folks. 
 
 Hicksville is a place hard to describe, there being nothing here to 
 describe. It was named from Ellas Hicks and has been liberally laid 
 out, but sparsely peopled. There is a hotel and a car house of the Long 
 Island Railroad, with four or five inconsiderable residences and many 
 mere shanties. The principal population appears to be dogs. There 
 were hundreds of them ; they run wild, recognizing no master, and were 
 under your feet everywhere. So numerous and so great a nuisance have 
 they become that crusades have been instituted for their destruction. 
 There is no future in sight for Hicksville; its prospective streets arc 
 grown up with grass. 
 
 From Hicksville our route lay eastward about two miles to Manet 
 Hill, where we arrived about 10.30 o'clock. We purchased the brick, 
 loaded our two wagons, fed our horses, ate our lunch, which we had 
 brought with us, and left at about one o'clock. 
 
 33 
 
We took another route on our way home, viz., through Bethpagc 
 and Jerusalem (omitting Farmingdale), both of which are rambling 
 villages grown up regardless of order, one in Oyster Bay and the other 
 in Hempstead, and both on the East end of the Great Plains. Beth- 
 page is a small village of farmers with a population of about two hun- 
 dred inhabitants, principally Quakers, with a tidy meeting house. It 
 is a clean, comfortable looking place. This is all the description it will 
 stand ; its history would be voluminous. 
 
 Jerusalem was settled by Captain John Seaman, of Danish origin. 
 He had six sons and six daughters. They came from Stamford in 1666, 
 although John Seaman's deed for 6,000 acres at Jerusalem bears the 
 date 1657. It was witnessed by Wantagh, Sachem. There are now 
 thousands of the descendants of Captain John Seaman in the United 
 States, and they fill honorable positions. They are senators, congress- 
 men, lawyers, judges, doctors and generals, and they are still in evidence 
 in Jerusalem; every other family is a Seaman. During the Revolution 
 it is said that the Seaman family, when the place was looted by one of 
 the contending armies, had the silver saved by one of their slaves throw- 
 ing it into the swill-barrel. Tradition says that a village community 
 of Indians were settled in the immediate neighborhood when the white 
 man arrived and claimed tribal jurisdiction over all the territory from 
 Old Westbury to Jerusalem South. They were supposed to be the 
 
 
 
 
 Rockaways. The deeds to the Seamans and other early white settlers 
 were executed by the Rockaways, Massapequas and the Montauks 
 through their Sachems. As the lands on the North and South rim of 
 
 34 
 
the island became cleared and brought under cultivation by the whites, 
 the Indians generally retreated to the woods of the interior, where they 
 could follow their thriftless methods of life without friction from the 
 whites, and without having the customs of civilization forced upon 
 them. 
 
 These village Indians sustained themselves by the simplest kind of 
 agriculture. They cultivated a small patch of Indian corn and squashes, 
 and by clamming and fishing in the waters of the South Bay or in the 
 Hempstead Harbor on the North, and by hunting in the forests by 
 which they were surrounded, in this manner they managed to exist. 
 They had a well defined trail leading from Jerusalem to the South Bay 
 and another to Hempstead Harbor. 
 
 Straight well-graded and well-kept roads have succeeded the old 
 trails, designated by marked trees. The status of these blazed highways 
 is attested in nearly all the old deeds describing or locating real prop- 
 erty on the island. Trails and paths were the logical, as streams and 
 rivers were the natural, boundaries between owners. Another Indian 
 factor, wampum, appears in real estate transactions at Jerusalem. It 
 frequently composed a part, or the entire consideration between the 
 whites. 
 
 The ancient Indian village mentioned was stockaded and the 
 stream at the place ran through it. It is probable that the stockade 
 enclosed a piece of ground now owned and occupied by S. Seaman near 
 the Friends' meeting house, but on the other side of the road. A sim- 
 ilar stockade was constructed by the Indians at Fort Neck for their pro- 
 tection, and the Dutch at Flatbush enclosed the Steinbokkery, and the 
 English at Hempstead erected similar defences. 
 
 The return route from Manet Hill was more interesting than the 
 one we went over. After leaving Jerusalem, which has no prominently 
 defined village center or boundaries, it being a straggling cluster of 
 dwellings of thrifty agriculturalists, storekeepers and an occasional in- 
 dustry, numbering in population not over three hundred, mostly 
 Quakers. At this point is a crossroad. We left the Jerusalem Road and 
 turned Southwesterly through a continuous settlement, or continuation 
 of Jerusalem, to Merrick, and ended the day in arriving at home about 
 eight o'clock. In a straight line Manet Hill is about fourteen miles 
 from our house, but following the tortuous roads increased the distance 
 traveled to about sixteen miles. 
 
 Tuesday, October 18, 1838. 
 
 Notices had been posted in several conspicuous places in School 
 District No. 10, Town of Hempstead, calling for a special meeting of 
 the freeholders of the district at the schoolhouse on the 16th of October, 
 1838, at early candle light. The purpose of the meeting being to author- 
 ize Christian Snedecker, Abraham Miller and Elbert Tredwell, Trus- 
 tees, to repair schoolhouse and to contract for fuel for the coming winter. 
 We obtained permission to attend the meeting. The schoolhouse is an 
 
 35 
 
exceedingly old structure, located at Bethel on the road leading from 
 Hick's Neck to the village of Hempstead. The old house has been 
 standing between seventy-five and one hundred years and is shockingly 
 out of repair; at best, it is an old barrack. The structure is about fifty 
 feet by twenty, of wood, clapboards of oak. Light is admitted to the 
 interior through seven square windows distributed along the three sides 
 of the building, with solid board shutters hung on hand made, wrought 
 iron hinges without fastenings, except the logs of wood which stand 
 against them, serving the double purpose of keeping them open or shut, 
 as circumstances required, may claim that dignity. 
 
 The interior of the Bethel schoolhouse consists of an entry and one 
 schoolroom, sealed entirely with plain boards, no superfluity of paint or 
 plaster intruded to mar its absolute rusticity. The great oaken beams 
 axed square are exposed overhead. The desk at which the pupils sit is 
 constructed of common pine boards and extends continuously around 
 three sides of the interior, the surface of which is nearly covered with 
 the rudely cut initials of three generations of ambitious students. The 
 master's desk is on a slight elevation in the Northwest corner of the 
 room. On reaching the schoolhouse, no one had yet arrived, but the 
 freeholders soon began to gather around the outside of the house. 
 Finally the clerk of the district and the school trustees arrived. On 
 entering the schoolhouse, it was discovered that there was no light and 
 no provisions had been made for making it. Light on such occasions 
 was usually furnished by someone living contiguous bringing a lantern, 
 or tinder box, but here seemed to be an absence of both. In this dilemma 
 someone in the audience in derision called out, "Strike a Light" (having 
 reference to the tinder box method). Now, although friction matches 
 had been invented more than three years previously, they were not in 
 general use in School District No. 10. Israel Frost, however, the store- 
 keeper at Milburn Corners, to the astonishment of many of the assem- 
 bled freeholders, produced a light by means of the marvelous friction 
 match (a thing so different from the present friction match as not to be 
 recognized by the present generation as such), from which nine tallow 
 candles supported against the board ceiling of the room, with corrugated 
 tin reflectors, were lighted, and the meeting was called to order by El- 
 bert Tredwell, chairman of the board of trustees, and they at once pro- 
 ceeded to business. The meeting had been called for the purpose of em- 
 powering the trustees to expend an amount of money in repairing the 
 schoolhouse and in procuring fuel for the coming winter. After many 
 resolutions and amendments, which seemed to us to have little to do 
 with the real issue, it was resolved that the trustees spend an amount not 
 exceeding fifty dollars in repairing the schoolhouse. And for fuel the 
 contract was awarded to Jacob Smith (of William) for thirty-two 
 dollars, the wood to be seasoned hickory and to be delivered at the 
 schoolhouse in four-foot lengths. The meeting adjourned. A desultory 
 conversation was, however, carried on for an hour or more, principally 
 
 36 
 
concerning the building of a new schoolhouse in a more convenient 
 and more central locality in the district. 
 
 The question of a new schoolhouse had always been a fruitful one 
 for discussion and dispute; it had been agitated thirty years before this 
 meeting. (And forty years later it was consumated.) The people of 
 Hempstead took a great interest in the matters of schools during the 
 town's early history. The first schools established on Long Island 
 were at Hempstead, and as early as 1675. This claim is disputed by 
 Newtown, but after an investigation we award the honor to Hemp- 
 stead. 
 
 It has been said that there were small results from these early 
 schools. To answer this objection we have only to note the contrast 
 between the children brought up in school communities and those who 
 are not. If no other result, a marked thriftiness and better manners 
 are characteristics of those neighborhoods which are supplied with 
 schools. This is true of all time. 
 
 Our earliest recollection of this honored seat of learning, the 
 Bethel schoolhouse, was in 1832, at which period and to the present 
 
 •Qvi\tvc\ <^t\\o©\ 
 
 1838, it was used six days of the week for school purposes, for Methodist 
 prayer meetings on Friday nights, and occasionally religious services on 
 Sunday. We remember on one occasion old Jimmy Horton, the great 
 Methodist revivalist, preached there on Sunday to an audience brought 
 together from ten miles about the schoolhouse, which did not hold one- 
 sixth of those assembled. 
 
 At the period above referred to William Fowler was the 
 
 37 
 
master. He had succeeded Master Ellison. Master Fowler 
 came in answer to an advertisement for a teacher. He was 
 popular, but he had at least one failing. At times he took 
 too much *'fire water/' and caused school to be closed, some- 
 times two or three days. He was succeeded by Jesse Pettit, 
 a teacher who rendered faithful service for many years in this 
 school. He subsequently became a proselyte to Mormonism 
 and moved with his entire family to the city of the Saints in 
 Nauvor. His successor was John McGee, an Irishman, and a 
 man of more than average ability. He taught there many years. 
 He married Maria, daughter of Samuel Miller, and settled 
 at Christian Hook. These teachers were not men of great 
 learning or pretentiousness, but they were qualified for the 
 work they had before them. 
 
 The conversation of the freeholders turned finally to friction 
 matches, an exhibition of which had been witnessed by many of them for 
 the first time this evening; but with that audience friction matches had 
 no defenders. It was quite the unanimous opinion that they were an 
 expensive and dangerous luxury, only for the rich, and could not be 
 made to serve the poor man to advantage, nor could they ever come into 
 general use. The bayman could not use them because they would not 
 endure dampness, or continued stormy weather. It would be impossible 
 for this invention ever to supply the place of the time-honored and 
 trusty old tinder box, which was much more convenient, perfectly safe, 
 and costs nothing. One remarked that these matches, like all other 
 new-fangled things, were against the poor man, were against the Bible — 
 an invention of the Devil (Lucifer). And by this little knot of free- 
 holders of School District No. 10 of the Town of Hempstead, lucifer 
 matches were doomed to failure. 
 
 The foregoing is a verbatim copy from the Journal, writ- 
 ten more than sixty years ago (now 1900). The conservative 
 old tinder box civilization has passed out and the friction 
 match is monarch. It is sold one thousand (enough to fire a 
 city) for five cents. It has been made waterproof and will 
 endure in any climate; while the tinder box is now stored away 
 with the rubbish of the garret or is kept on exhibition among 
 the antiquities or muniments of the past. No discovery since 
 the landing of Columbus has been more potent in the civiliza- 
 tion of Long Island than that of the friction match. "Strike 
 
 38 
 
a Light," is typical of a whole civilization, from the barbarian 
 to the nobleman, for the attainment of which monks have 
 fasted, anchorites have prayed, but which science alone 
 achieved. That Prometheus climbed the heavens and with 
 Minerva stole fire from Jupiter and bestowed it upon man, ap- 
 peared in the ingenuous minds of our ancestors concerning the 
 origin of fire, but the myth has long since ceased to satisfy us. 
 Neither ancient history, nor the legendary, or traditionary ac- 
 counts of the existing savage races throw any light upon the 
 question of the origin or discovery of fire. The narratives 
 contained in the oldest records are obviously mythical, like the 
 fable of Prometheus, which of itself is but a version of the 
 older Vedic myth of the God Agni, who, having taken fire 
 from a casket, gave it to the first man, Manu, through Pro- 
 mantha, which, in the old Vedic language, means to accomr 
 plish by means of friction. Of the same character are all the 
 myths of savage races of the origin of fire, having been 
 brought by some wonderful bird, or animal, or God, and pre- 
 sented to man. 
 
 The discovery of fire and the art of reproducing fire and 
 light must be regarded as among the greatest achievements of 
 the human intellect. The uses of fire lie at the foundation of 
 every human industry, and it seems that the epoch of man's 
 advancement dates from the discovery of fire, and that without 
 it he could not have arisen much above the condition of the 
 brute. 
 
 The reception of this little thing is a type of the reception 
 of every invention, and the prejudice it had to subdue was typi- 
 cal of true progress. 
 
 In 1835 there were serious dissensions in the New York 
 Tammany. A meeting of Tammany delegates had been called 
 at the hall for eight o'clock. Tammany at this time was 
 divided into two factions. Regulars and Independents. At the 
 hour appointed the Independents began to gather. They 
 found the doors of the hall locked and a meeting proceeding 
 inside. The Regulars had gained access in advance and had 
 
 39 
 
proceeded with the business — a trick by no means new to the 
 Tammany code. No deliberation was taken to determine what 
 course to pursue. The doors of the hall were forced and the 
 Independents entered, to find that the Regulars had transacted 
 all the business for the evening and were just preparing to ad- 
 journ. A rough and tumble fight ensued, in which the Regu- 
 lars were forcibly ejected from the hall and their minutes de- 
 stroyed. But before retiring, the Regulars had managed to 
 shut of? the gas, thus leaving the victorious Independents in 
 total darkness. Then came the cry, * 'Strike a Light." But 
 some Independent, contemplating a contingency of this kind, 
 came prepared with candles and the newly invented friction 
 matches, which enabled him instantly to "Strike a Light," 
 which he did, and the regular meeting was organized under 
 the call and proceeded with the business. The Regulars, how- 
 ever, took their revenge by nicknaming their opponents "Loco 
 Focos," by which opprobrius epithet they are known to this 
 day. 
 
 The origin of the expression "Strike a Light" is un- 
 doubtedly very ancient, going back probably to the discovery 
 of the earlist methods of producing fire. Our Philological 
 Society of Washington, under Colonel Garrick Mallery, took 
 up this subject, and on a thorough scientific investigation found 
 out and reported that although the expression was very an- 
 cient, yet it could not be assigned to a period as early as the 
 cosmos, for the Creator did not in the beginning "Strike a 
 Light," but said: "Let there be Light." However, Virgil, 
 in the ^Eneid, refers to the tinder box method for obtaining 
 fire. This establishes very great antiquity for the tinder box, 
 and we have also the text of Cicero in "Treatise De Natura": 
 "Lapidum conflicta atque tritu slice igneum videmus." All this 
 goes far in fixing the use of the tinder box in classical times. 
 
 We remember the old tinder box with great distinctness as 
 an indispensable appurtenance of the household in our youth. 
 No house could be sustained without it, and so complete and 
 sudden was the revolution retiring it that it is entirely unknown 
 
 40 
 
to the present generation, save traditionally. No greater boon 
 was conferred upon the housekeeper than the invention of the 
 lucifer match. The conservative country people were tardy in 
 adopting it. Although fairly introduced and in common use 
 in the city in 1835, it was not in general use on Long Island in 
 1838. The reason was probably the expense, and then some 
 accidents had happened through its use, and, again, it was not 
 deemed waterproof. 
 
 Some of these old tinder boxes (household gods) were of 
 elaborate construction and ornamentation. There were hun- 
 dreds of forms, usually from four to six inches in diameter, and 
 some of simple construction, many of which are now preserved 
 in our museums, to which we must resort for a study of them. 
 The material of which they were made was tin or brass. We 
 remember the tinder box as holding the highest rank among 
 household equipments on Long Island. There were no other 
 means by which we could obtain light or fire. "Strike a 
 Light!" 
 
 The tinder box familiar to us was neither tin nor brass, 
 but consisted of the crooked, tapering horn of the ox, or some 
 other of the bovine tribe. It was about ten inches long, hol- 
 low, and the larger end, which was open, was about three and 
 ^ half inches in diameter. This was a cumbersome and awk- 
 ward fixture and it seems strange that, considering the univer- 
 sal use in previous times of wood friction to produce fire, that 
 there were so few improvements on this primitive method and 
 tools. These improvements are compressed into two inven- 
 tions, viz., the bow and drill and the pump-drill, which are not 
 to be ranked as machines, but rather as machine tools. A 
 machine which combines the parts of the ordinary two-stick fire 
 drill was seen in use on the Nile above the second cataract in 
 1868. This was a survival of the old friction method; they 
 had not yet reached the tinder box age. 
 
 The appurtenances, or equipments complete, of the Long 
 Island tinder box were, first, the horn, then the tinder. The 
 latter consisted of charred, or calcined, or carbonized rags, 
 
 4 41 
 
which were placed in the horn and kept stopped when not in 
 actual use by a ball of rags or some other soft material, so that 
 the horn could be closed air tight. A flint and steel were also 
 a part of the equipment. The flint was the same as that used 
 by the common old-fashioned flintlock gun of the period. 
 These flints were for sale at all the country stores (in fact, a 
 complete outfit could be obtained at any country store). The 
 steel was about three-fourths of an inch wide, one-quarter of 
 an inch thick, and about a foot long. All the above constituted 
 the plain working outfit. There were some outfits which made 
 pretentions to artistic structure, but none probably excelled for 
 convenience the horn equipment. 
 
 There was but one method for obtaining fire, and that 
 was by the ever faithful tinder box; and there were but two 
 processes by which fire could be preserved from day to day. 
 One was to bury a mass of live hickory coals in ashes over 
 night, or burn a night lamp or rush taper. The former was 
 frequently resorted to. The latter was a luxurious method and 
 could not be indulged in by the poor farmer or fisherman, to 
 whom the only alternate was the friendly tinder box and the 
 friendly mendicant shaving match. 
 
 Down to about the year 1833 the tinder box was to be 
 found as a matter of course in the kitchen of every house in the 
 land. It had been in use for ages and had undergone little or 
 no variation. Yet its disappearance was extraordinarily sud- 
 den and complete after the introduction of the friction match. 
 Less than a generation later, almost within a decade, the tinder 
 box had become little more than a vague tradition of the past, 
 and examples are to be found now only in the cabinets- of the 
 antiquary. Few other instances of the disappearance so sud- 
 denly of a domestic contrivance so ancient can be cited. To at- 
 tempt to trace the origin of the tinder box is futile. The very 
 name comes to us from the early ages, for the obsolete English 
 root verb to tind, or to tindle, meaning originally to kindle, or 
 to set on fire, comes from the old Anglo-Saxon, with tyndan 
 having the same signification. But the tinder box is vastly 
 
 42 
 
more ancient than Saxon times. Long before iron was known 
 in the smelted form, nodules of iron pyrites, such as were 
 often found in chalk, were used with a piece of flint and some 
 kind of tinder to produce fire. Evidences of such have been 
 found in the Swiss lake dwellings and in British Barrows. 
 
 Z DfcJlIZ 
 
 Nsrttvt 
 
 i2. inchts 
 
 •O >r\cW?,5, 
 
 C\cXV\ l=b.ik 
 
 The tinder box varied infinitely in shape and size and 
 material, though identical in its purpose. In bedrooms and 
 dressing rooms they were of superior material and structure, 
 brass, copper, tin, and sometimes silver. The steel was of 
 myriad forms and shapes to suit the fancy of the factor. The 
 horn tinder box was for common, everyday use. It was handy, 
 but one of more elaborate structure decorated the kitchen man- 
 tel piece. In our house it was made of tin, with a socket for a 
 candle on the lid, and was about five inches in diameter. There 
 were some made of wood, with a compartment to hold the 
 steel, flint, brimstone matches and candle. 
 
 The Dutch tinder boxes, those brought from home, were 
 all wood, and some were ornately and elaborately carved, 
 real works of art. There were many of these among the 
 
 43 
 
Dutch settlers. The imported English article was always 
 metal, and all with some pretentions to ornamentation. One 
 of silver, belonging to the Searing family of Hempstead, we 
 saw in the possession of Dr. Lewis Searing. It belonged to 
 the plate of the Searing family. The structure was plain, bur- 
 nished and without ornamentation. The Searing tinder box 
 was exhibited at a show of antiques at Hempstead in 1866 or 
 1867. 
 
 The expression, "Strike a Light," as uttered at the school 
 meeting, brought up no other vision but of the tinder box. 
 Without going into detail, the tinder method of striking a 
 light is the earliest known to us, save that of our still more re- 
 mote savage ancestors by the friction of two pieces of dry 
 wood. Ethnological science has made this method too well 
 known for further illustration. The Eskimo obtained light by 
 striking pieces of quartz and iron pyrites together, directing 
 the spark to fall upon moss dried and prepared for the pur- 
 pose. This was also striking a light. Among many of the 
 half-civilized races, where the tinder box, or a similar contriv- 
 ance, is used for obtaining fire, as in Siberia, the name in 
 their language is synonymous with "Strike a Light. '^ 
 
 44 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Historic White Oak Tree. — Capture of the Schooner I'Armistad. — Indian 
 Shell Heaps. — Indians of Long Island. 
 
 Friday, March 1, 1839. 
 
 SEVERE winter has closed, superceded by a no less 
 disagreeable and inclement spring, for the weather is 
 still cold and piercing, but the power of the sun has a 
 dissolving effect upon the frost-bound earth, and a few 
 more days we may hope to see stronger evidences of 
 spring. Volumes have been written upon "Gentle 
 
 Spring," "Etherial Mildness," etc., with but an hypothetical existence 
 
 outside of the poet's realm. 
 
 Wednesday, March 6, 1839. 
 
 Reports were received here a few days ago that a great freshet pre- 
 vailed at Hempstead Village. The roads here have been absolutely im- 
 passable in consequence of mud for any wheeled vehicle, and communi- 
 cation is nearly cut off. 
 
 Subsequently, by special messenger, member of our family, the 
 reports of the flood at Hempstead have been confirmed. It was known 
 that great quantities of snow had accumulated on the Hempstead 
 Plains during the last winter, which had been unusually severe, and the 
 ground was frozen to a great depth. The heavy rains which have pre- 
 vailed recently flooded the plains back of the village. The waters 
 flowed down the two brooks which run through the village, swelling 
 them to an enormous size. These streams form a union just South- 
 west of the village and supply the motor power for a series of grist 
 mills. The snow, ice and every other thing that could aid in forming 
 a blockade collected in the swamp at the union of the streams, near the 
 residence of Gid Nicols, and completely choked up the stream, throwing 
 the accumulated waters back upon the village. The water rose to a 
 height of five feet in the dry-goods store of Mr. Weeks, corner of 
 Front and Main streets, and was of equal depth in the shoe store of Mr. 
 Burtis, and in Mr. Grossman's hat store. It was six feet deep on the 
 turnpike. The entire length of Front street was three or four feet 
 under water. Snedeker's lumber yard was all afloat; timely warning 
 saved their horses. Lester Bedell, who lived on the other stream, West 
 of the main village, left his house when the water had risen to one foot 
 on his parlor floor. 
 
 When the water broke through the blockade it rushed down with 
 great fury and carried away all the mill dams on the stream, except 
 
 45 
 
Mordecai Smith's, which was saved by opening the flood-gates and 
 emptying the pond before the flood reached it. The damage in Hemp- 
 stead is said to be considerable, aggregating many thousands of dollars. 
 All the dwellings, shops and stables on the low ground along the 
 streams were flooded and some were carried away. The residence of 
 Isaac Eldred, farmer, northeast of the village, with his farm houses and 
 barns, occupied an island in a lake miles in extent. Floods have pre- 
 vailed this season all over the country. Some in New Jersey were 
 disastrous. 
 
 Wednesday, July 10, 1839. 
 
 Benjamin F. Thompson's History of Long Island, containing an 
 Account of the Discovery and Settlement, with other important and 
 interesting matters, etc., was this day delivered at our house. It pur- 
 ports to be a complete history of the Island to the present time and 
 was published by E. French, 146 Nassau Street, New York. This is 
 the first book ever published purporting to give a succinct history of 
 Long Island. We anticipate much pleasure in reading this book. Mr. 
 Thompson was many years in the compilation of it, and being himself 
 a Long Islander, he took great pride in his work. He labored for 
 correct information and spared no pains in obtaining it, in the collection 
 of which he was greatly facilitated by his familiar relations with the 
 prominent citizens of the island. 
 
 Saturday, August 3, 1839. 
 
 A very severe thunderstorm came up suddenly this afternoon and 
 lingered a long time at the South of us. It appeared to be very severe 
 on the Ocean just outside the beach, and caused a very heavy tide, and 
 may have done much damage at sea. Its effect was not very great on 
 the land, but was fitful. It was an unusual storm, in consequence of 
 which we have taken cognizance of it. 
 
 Sunday, August 4, 1839. 
 
 During the thunderstorm yesterday the land-mark and historic 
 old white oak standing at the brow of the hill east of our house was 
 blown over. What a history that old Quercus could tell were it 
 endowed with memory and speech, and how insignificant our Reminis- 
 cence! It is an immense tree, the largest by great odds on our farm, 
 and probably the largest in the town. Its butt was four and a half 
 feet in diameter. It was a gigantic tree when the first white man set 
 foot on this farm and had endured hundreds of equally violent storms, 
 and it succumbed not from an apparent weakness above ground, but 
 in its foundation. We were familiar with every limb and branch of 
 this old veteran. There was not a bough that we had not explored hun- 
 dreds of times. We had climbed to its very summit, from which could 
 be obtained a full view of the Atlantic Ocean. This tree was not only 
 noted for its great age; it was a handsome tree. True, its limbs were 
 
 46 
 
crooked, angular and knobby, but they spread out to a uniform length 
 and its outlines were symmetrical. It had given shade and shelter to 
 thousands of creatures. We have seen it absolutely covered by a 
 tumultuous mob of black birds, holding a carnival, and all talking at 
 the same moment. We have seen its branches ready to break under 
 the v^eight of wild pigeons, every available standing place being occupied. 
 It was a rendezvous for robins, cedar-birds and crows. 
 
 The wealth of happiness flowing from this old tree will never be 
 admeasured. It was an ornithological museum of moving forms, an 
 hundred volumes of inedited natural history. It was an object lesson 
 every day in the year. The old tree, maybe, was the survivor of a 
 forest of its peers, but stood alone during our time, my father's and 
 grandfather's. 
 
 My grandfather preserved a flint arrow head found under a pro- 
 jecting root in his youth. This spot may have been the scene of an 
 original conflict before the innovation of the palefaces. Among the 
 old stories, or traditions, which are mostly experiences only, of this 
 historic tree, there are preserved no tragedies or comedies. There is 
 an old tradition that the Algonkin had a sort of veneration for the old 
 tree in consequence of it being the haunt of the sacred owl of his 
 theology, and that while people of our day (ourselves included) have 
 a kind of feeling described as creepy when on a quiet evening the start- 
 ling, penetrating e-ough — e-ough — e-ough of the screech owl bursts 
 from the old tree, w^hich the Indians translated into a warning of evil. 
 We know better, but we cannot help feeling, like the old negro, "that 
 suthim wus goin' to hap'n." It is said that during the Revolutionary 
 war two loyalists, or tories, whose names it would not be courtesy to 
 mention, out of regard to surviving relations, escaped arrest and prob- 
 ably hanging by storing themselves away in the knobby branches of the 
 old oak until the pursuit was over, while others who had taken to the 
 swamp for safety were captured and treated with great severity. The 
 field in which the tree stood had never been under cultivation; conse- 
 quently all the scars upon the surface earth might be said to remain. 
 There was a well worn path from the foot of the tree over the brow of 
 the hill, a distance of about three hundred feet, to the ruins of an 
 ancient spring at the edge of the swamp. This spring and path were 
 never used by the white man. 
 
 No Indian relics were found (save the arrowhead of my grand- 
 father) on or near the premises. There were, however, evidences of 
 fire on the side of the hill from remains of embers, coals, ashes and 
 discolored pebbles and gravel. The fireplace, if such it were, was 
 about ten feet wide, cut into the side hill ; the excavated earth had been 
 graded in front, forming a crude hearth. This would seem to indicate 
 that the fire place was in the interior of an enclosure or dwelling, and 
 had been used for heating. However, that form of structure is not 
 conformable to Indian Custom. 
 
 47 
 
The storm which destroyed the old oak was not purely local, 
 was attended with lightning and thunder and began with a little hail, 
 but no rain. The wind did not seem to be exceedingly violent, and 
 none of the neighboring trees bore evidence of the storm. On examina- 
 tion of the fallen tree there had been an effect which might have resulted 
 from a spiral or whirlwind. The fate of this familiar and favorite 
 object of our life is sealed. 
 
 In life the old tree stood out a tower of strength. Bleak and 
 defiant on the brow of the hill, it was the most prominent object on 
 approaching the place from any direction. It had survived the greed 
 and avarice of man. It had endured the fury of three centuries of 
 winter blasts. It had escaped the lightning shafts of a thousand thunder- 
 storms, to be uprooted and prostrated by a half developed hurricane, 
 which an hundred greater had failed to disturb. So much of the old 
 monarch as will make proper timber for boat building my uncle, Daniel 
 Smith, will purchase, thus prolonging its usefulness another half century ; 
 the remainder will be consigned to the wood pile. 
 
 *'Requiescat in pace" 
 
 Tuesday, August 13, 1839. 
 
 A great fire is raging in the pines near Farmingdale. The wind 
 has come in from the Northeast and we are nearly suffocated with the 
 smoke. Should we get rain, which is very probable, it will put an end 
 to the burning, it is to be hoped. This is the second great forest fire 
 this year in the Long Island woods in the neighborhood of Central 
 Islip and Farmingdale. When this wooded territory is once burned 
 over it is forever after useless as a wood or fuel producer. These 
 forests have yielded hundreds of thousands cords of wood, but since 
 the introduction of coal as a fuel the consumption has not been so 
 great. It is now being used for kindling and for charcoal. 
 
 , September, 1839. 
 
 In the early part of September, 1839, great excitement was created 
 on Long Island, which spread over the entire country, in consequence 
 of party feeling engendered, and the unsettled state of the country 
 regarding the matter involved, and with forced party issues. The 
 cause of the agitation was the capture, inside of Montauk Point, by 
 Lieutenant Ceding, in command of the United States Brig Washington, 
 of a large schooner named I'Armistad with a cargo of African negroes 
 intended for slavery. It seems that the I'Armistad had sailed from 
 Havana, Cuba, for the Port of Principe with a large number of negroes 
 intended to be sold as slaves. 
 
 On an investigation, later, it turned out that during the 
 passage from Havana the negroes had arisen upon the officers 
 of the I'Armistad, all of whom they murdered, and took posses- 
 
 48 
 
sion of the schooner, sparing only the white crew, and two 
 persons who were represented as passengers, of whom one was 
 a seafaring man and had been in command of a vessel, and 
 was qualified to navigate. He was placed in charge by the 
 negroes and commanded to take the I'Armistad back to Africa. 
 But he deceived them, brought the vessel into American waters 
 and ran her in at Montauk, where the capture took place. Af- 
 ter the capture, which took place without resistance, Lieutenant 
 Ceding took his prize over to New London, Connecticut (Aug- 
 ust 29, 1839), it being the nearest United States port, and de- 
 livered her over to the authorities. The negroes were at once 
 put under arrest and locked up on a charge of piracy. The 
 monstrous injustice of this act and the helpless condition of the 
 negroes set the country on fire and the indictment for piracy 
 called out thousands of sympathizers, and some breaches of 
 the peace. A public meeting was held at Brooklyn at which 
 S. S. Joselyn, Joshua Leavett and Lewis Tappan were ap- 
 pointed a committee to raise funds to defend the rights of the 
 negroes. After a great struggle in the State courts their case 
 was taken to Washington and Judge Story of the United 
 States Supreme Court entered a decree releasing the negroes, 
 and granting an order justifying the uprising. But the issues 
 arising were pregnant with party bitterness among the born 
 agitators, which did not subside at once. 
 
 During the pendency of the investigations and trial par- 
 tizans arose among the political parties ready to embrace any 
 opportunity to foment trouble. The two passengers were 
 also arrested and thrown into prison. Complications grew, 
 and the whole country was in a foment. All the old questions 
 of Free Soil, Abolition, etc., were threshed over. The negroes 
 were free, and probably the only guilty parties, the officers of 
 the I'Armistad, were dead. The liberation of the negroes and 
 their restoration to Liberia resulted in the foundation of the 
 Mendi Mission, still a living institution. 
 
 But the matter was not over; the complications threatened 
 to rupture amicable relations with Spain and the United States. 
 
 49 
 
Spain put In a claim for indemnity with a somewhat belligerent 
 attitude, the false attitude of which demand was shown in the 
 voluminous diplomatic correspondence of Daniel Webster with 
 the government of Spain on this subject. There were ques- 
 tions raised in this controversy between the two sections of 
 this country on the subject of this capture which were never 
 settled until the first gun was fired on Fort Sumpter in the con- 
 flict between the North and South. 
 
 Wednesday, September 11, 1839. 
 
 This day was spent in searching and digging for Indian curiosities 
 in the old shell heap in the swamp lot. Owing to the heavy rains which 
 have prevailed for several days past, it was deemed a propitious time to 
 hunt for Indian relics on the surface In open fields and sand hills, in 
 which localities they were not infrequently washed out. The rains 
 not only unearthed many relics; they rendered more conspicuous those 
 lying on the surface. 
 
 We were rewarded with a few knives, arrow heads, as Mr. Potter 
 (Plerrepont Potter), the teacher, calls them, all imperfect specimens; 
 that is, having been used and more or less broken, but being probably 
 more valuable to the collector for all that. 
 
 On our farm and near our residence was an ancient Indian 
 shell heap. It was on the north bank of a small stream which 
 ran through the farm and was probably at one time the head 
 of tide-water. Evidences of an earth causeway from the stream 
 over the bog to the shell heap and more solid ground still ex- 
 ists and testify to long-continued use. 
 
 At the period of the entries In this journal these relics 
 of ancient shell heaps over various parts of the country were 
 just beginning to attract the attention of the antiquary and 
 scientist. We shall here (this being the work of later years) 
 attempt to throw some light upon the relics which so much in- 
 terested us when a boy, and which Interest became much greater 
 as we advanced Into manhood. 
 
 There was nothing remarkable about the shell heap 
 spoken of to distinguish it from thousands of others all over 
 the world except that It was Inland (they usually occur on the 
 margins of bays, lakes and rivers), and being Inland, Indicated 
 
 so 
 
that It was the site of an Indian settlement, or near a village. 
 When the Indians were interrogated by the early white set- 
 tlers about these remains they said they were very old and 
 were there when they came. They were undoubtedly the ac- 
 cumulations of many generations, and showed stratification, 
 or seemed to have been deposited In layers. This may be ac- 
 counted for on the theory that the Indians did not continuously 
 remain here, and that during their absence, sometimes for 
 years, maybe. In consequence of tribe hostilities, the deposits 
 became covered with soil, upon which, on their return, were 
 again deposited a layer of shells. That the authors of the 
 shell heaps were a migratory p>eople, or carried on a traffic 
 with distant tribes, seems plausible from the fact that copper 
 axes of rude structure were not uncommon among the finds 
 on this part of the Island. These axes evidently came from 
 the Lake Superior district. Inhabited In early times by the Al- 
 gonkln, to whom the Long Island Indians were blood rela- 
 tions. There are four such copper axes In the Long Island 
 Historical Society Museum, found just east of RockvIUe Cen- 
 tre, In a group of twenty surrounding another copper axe, two 
 feet below the surface. They seem to be associated with some 
 superstition. Three of such, or similar axes, were found at 
 Rockvllle Centre and two at East Rockaway, their sizes being 
 respectively 6 by 3>4 and 7 by 4 Inches, and were also de- 
 posited In said museum. 
 
 Chisels, axes, and mauls were also found on Long Island, 
 the material of which came from a long distance In the In- 
 terior. There have been spear heads found on Long Island, 
 for which there was no known service. They were a foot long 
 and three Inches wide and were probably brought here by In- 
 dians from a distance, and may possibly have been medicine 
 spears, such as were common with the Oregon Indians of the 
 Pacific Coast. 
 
 It is evident that the tribes of the interior regarded this 
 part of the coast, with Its numerous land-locked bays and 
 water thoroughfares, as an ideal location for their summer 
 
 51 
 
encampments, added to the temperate climate and the inex- 
 haustible supply of fish and clams, the abundance of fruit and 
 every variety of aquatic wild fowl, as well as the larger game, 
 with which the forests abounded, made Long Island a desir- 
 able camping ground for the Indian. Many came from the 
 North and West, from beyond the Alleghanies, and the posi- 
 tive testimony of my great-grandfather is that down to his day 
 Indians occupied locations on the farm every summer and en- 
 gaged in clamming and fishing, but retired in the winter. He 
 said report showed that in 1701 the Indians had already 
 diminished in Hempstead and other parts of Long Island; 
 the only locations where they held their own were on the south 
 side at the necks convenient to the bay. 
 
 It has elicited much surprise that so productive a country 
 and so bountifully stocked with food animals as Long Island 
 was, supported so small a population of human beings as 
 were found here at the time of the discovery, but it probably 
 had all that it would sustain of savage or half-civilized races. 
 In fact, there are good reasons for believing that the aborig- 
 inal population was never much, if any, greater than when the 
 white man first landed. We can readily perceive how a race 
 in possession only of instruments of the stone age, and who 
 were preyed upon by enemies which threatened and enfeebled 
 them, must necessarily make slow progress in population, or 
 in the arts of civilized life. 
 
 There was, however, a gradual elevation among them, 
 but it was along their lines and not those of the white man. 
 These people drew their subsistence almost entirely from the 
 spontaneous productions of the earth, seas and forests, and 
 when these sources were drawn upon above their natural pro- 
 ducing capacity a dearth in such products inevitably followed, 
 and a consequent falling off in the supplies of the population; 
 but after a readjustment had taken place and an equilibrium 
 restored, that is, the supply equal to the demand, the result 
 was again harmonious. 
 
 But so soon as the white man appeared permanently, with 
 
 52 
 
his devices for subduing nature and for the capture and de- 
 struction of animal life, the equilibrium was again destroyed. 
 He made heavier demands upon nature, which nature could 
 not supply, and diminution began under his improved methods 
 of agriculture, the forests melted away, and the haunts and 
 means of subsistence of animal and game life to disappear. 
 
 This was equally true of the waters. The Indian had 
 never captured beyond the increase and the greatest amount of 
 animal life was maintained. Soon after the appearance of 
 the white man, whales ceased to visit our coast. Seals, or sea 
 dogs, once existing in great numbers in the South Bay, were 
 annihilated, and the fishes began to become scarce, and many 
 varieties entirely disappeared, and from that time to the pres- 
 ent the civilized population increased and improved means 
 for destruction were invented; in just such ratio did the food 
 supply of the sea decrease. So, we believe that the maximum 
 population, drawing its support from unaided nature, had been 
 reached before the advent of civilization, and which just main- 
 tained an equilibrium between demand and supply. This 
 routine is not by fixed and constant laws, but undulating. An 
 extremely dry season affects herbivorous animals; a long and 
 severe winter destroys whole tribes of wild game, and similar 
 causes may affect aquatic products, and years may be required 
 to restore the former conditions, maybe never. 
 
 There is nothing in the method or culture of the shell 
 remains on Long Island upon which to hypothecate that any 
 other race than the American Indian, such as survived to our 
 day, had ever occupied this territory, that is, no race of super- 
 ior attainments in the arts of civilized life. 
 
 The implements found here, arrow and spear heads, axes, 
 mortars and sinkers, were found everywhere along the South 
 side. Rude ovens, fireplaces, cinders and charred shells, bone 
 needles, or awls, for making their bark boats and garments, 
 the arrow and spear heads bore no evidence of any other race 
 or higher civilization. 
 
 Again reverting to the shell deposits on the farm, they 
 
 53 
 
were not in mass, that is, not in one heap, but in several, as 
 convenience dictated. They, the Indians, having no design or 
 order in their arrangement or distribution. When they iirst 
 arrested pur attention, they had been much scattered and cov- 
 ered a piece of ground equal to an acre. 
 
 Friday, September 20, 1839. 
 
 Went out to the bay yesterday with my father. This is a favorite 
 recreation of his and many entries .of similar excursions might be made 
 in this journal, at the risk, however, of being tedious. On the way out 
 we pass many Indian shell heaps bleached as white as snow, which tliey 
 much resemble at a distance. Some of them on the banks of the creek 
 extend from fifteen to thirty feet upon the bank and under the water, 
 in many instances entirely across the creek. These shell heaps, long ere 
 this, had excited our curiosity and we had proposed all manner of ques- 
 tions concerning their authors. These questions my father did not and 
 could not satisfactorily answer, and we were consequently unsatisfied, 
 and hence there was a constantly recurring inquiry. My father is 
 greatly interested in these shell heaps, their contents and their authors, 
 and especially the one on our farm; and he was pleased to observe the 
 interest manifested by us. He had preserved with great care all arrow 
 heads, stone axes, bones of animals, and, in fact, everything found which 
 might indicate the handiwork of man. He knew these shells to be the 
 remains of Indians who had inhabited this and the surrounding country 
 and who were now fast becoming extinct, and he therefore neglected 
 no opportunity of preserving any relic which might possibly throw 
 light upon their origin, or history. He did not accept all the current 
 and common theories concerning them. He made a broad distinction 
 in the causes which resulted in the remains, such as were found on the 
 farm, and those of the more extensive mounds nearer the ocean, and 
 more directly on the shore adjoining the fishing ground of which we 
 have spoken. The former, that is, on the farm, were, he claimed, the 
 remains of clams opened for food for family use and should be classed 
 as refuse heaps (Kitchen Middens), while the latter were the remains 
 of, or chips of, wampum manufactories. His conclusions were reached 
 from careful observation and exploration of the heaps. A large per- 
 centage of the shells on the farm had never been broken, while on the 
 other mounds a search failed to reveal any whole shells. And, again, 
 among the shells found on the farm, conspicuous were the skimmer 
 clam shell (mactra solidissima) . From the latter shells found in their 
 kitchen refuse heaps it is evident that the Indian had no such prejudices 
 as the white man of Long Island regarding this mollusc, by whom it was 
 considered inedible. None of these shells were found on wampum 
 heaps. The shells of this clam were used by the Indians in working 
 and hilling their corn, and subsequently by the whites as skimmers in 
 
 54 
 
taking the cream from the top of the milk; hence the name of skimmer 
 shell. There were also found fragments of the winkle {fulgar carica). 
 Broken specimens of the hinge of the scollop {pecten irradians) were 
 also found in quantities sufficient to lead us to believe that this luxurious 
 mollusc formed no inconsiderable portion of their food. 
 
 In the manufacture of wampum, only a small portion of the shell 
 of the hard clam (venus mercenari) was used, to obtain which every 
 shell must be broken, this being unnecessary in the case of those opened 
 for food or preserving for family or clan use. There was a prevailing 
 tradition among the old people of the neighborhood that this shell heap 
 on our farm w^as the remains of a great tribal feast, or pow-wow, at 
 which a gigantic clam bake was served to thousands of braves who were 
 guests of the Algonkins, the participants being Leni Lenapes, Pequots, 
 Iroquois, Delawares, Creeks and the Narragansetts, and at which feast 
 the presiding half-deity Manetto of middle Long Island was the central 
 figure. That such, or similar, feast was held there may be true, but 
 that one feast resulted in so vast a deposit of shells cannot be true ; there 
 were shells enough on this field for forty such feasts. It may have been 
 the locality for an annual, bi-annual, or tri-annual feasts of confederate 
 tribes, and some color is given to this theory from the fact of the stratifi- 
 cation of shells, or alternate layers of shells and soil, as if there had been 
 a lapse of time between the depositions. Be that as it may, we know 
 all that we*shall ever know on this subject; the ground has been so 
 thoroughly threshed over for new facts that nothing remains to be 
 discovered. 
 [ In many respects the country in this immediate vicinity appears to 
 
 > have been one of great consequence to the aborigines, of which the num- 
 " her and extensive shell deposits lying within a circuit of two or three 
 I miles, the vast number of arrow heads and other implements of savage 
 '■; industry which have enriched archaeological museums from this locality, 
 ; is abundantly confirmatory. 
 
 There is an extensive deposit of these broken shells at a place called 
 lithe Hummocks on the south side of Long Beach Run, west from New 
 v Inlet. These remains extend over an irregular piece of ground probably 
 \ one hundred and fifty feet in diameter, and on the water side slope down 
 into the water with perfect regularity at an angle of about 45° to the 
 depth of thirty feet below the surface. Many stone sinkers w^re found 
 here. 
 
 There is another extensive heap on Swift Creek, about one and a 
 : half miles east of the latter and northeast from Jones Inlet, and near 
 the famous resort for sporting men known as John C's. 
 
 There are other remarkable remains at Squaw Island, about one 
 and a half miles east of the last named in the bay at Oyster Bay, and 
 opposite to Fort Neck, a beautiful and fertile tract of land jutting out 
 into the South Bay. It was on this piece of ground. Fort Neck, that 
 the most noted battle of Long Island between the Indians and whites 
 
 55 
 
took place. The Massapequas, Merikoes and Patchogues had erected 
 a stronghold at this place, determined here to make their last grand 
 resistance against their warlike neighbors. In 1653 a man of unenviable 
 fame, Captain John Underbill, made an unprovoked attack upon this 
 stronghold. Before hostilities commenced the Indians removed their 
 women and children to Squaw Island, which is presumably the island 
 above mentioned. The battle was the fiercest and most stubbornly con- 
 tested ever had on Long Island between the Indians and the whites, and 
 ended in the total defeat and cruel and inhuman slaughter of the Indians. 
 It is said that three hundred perished in this battle, and the burial place 
 of the great chiefs is still marked by a mound enclosing an acre of 
 ground. 
 
 John Underbill was born in Warwicksbire, England, in 
 1596. He came witb Jobn Wintbrop and bis 900 emigrants 
 to Boston in 1630. His wife, Helena, was a member of Old 
 Soutb Cburcb in 1633. Sbe was tbe motber of Jobn Under- 
 bill, 2d, baptized 1642. He died at Soutbold, L. I., in 1658. 
 
 But the most extensive shell deposits are at Milburn on Tred- 
 well's or Hick's Neck Creek, down which we sailed today. There are 
 several on each side of the creek. One large ridge on the upland west 
 of the creek is from three to ten feet high and is said to be composed 
 entirely of shell deposits. This ridge is a series of shell mounds, the 
 most extensive probably in this country, far excelling those of Saint 
 John's River, Florida. It is not unlikely, says Benjamin F. Thompson, 
 in his History of Long Island, that all the largest shell heaps on Long 
 Island are the remains of wampum manufactories. Next, in bulk and 
 importance, to those of Hick's Neck above named, probably the most 
 extensive wampum manufactory in the United States was at Bergen 
 Island, King's County. 
 
 The remains at Hick's Neck Creek are also of great antiquity, 
 judging from the trees now growing upon their surface. The Indians 
 who had become extinct only within the memory of persons yet living 
 ascribed these mounds to a former race. This ridge or series of mounds 
 is at Bedell's Landing on the west side of Hick's Neck (Milburn) 
 Creek at a point where the creek turns easterly. There is another on 
 the East side of the creek about two hundred yards distant on a piece 
 of meadow now belonging to Jacobus Golden, where the creek turns 
 suddenly southward, and still another one at Miller's Landing a few 
 hundred yards southwest of the latter, where the creek turns south- 
 easterly and debouches into the bay. All of these are interesting and 
 important remains. Sinkers, spear heads and other implements have 
 been found in all of them. 
 
 We made an opening into the ridge at Bedell's Landing, and found 
 the shells pervading to the depth of six feet, and we had not then reached 
 
 56 
 
the bottom. In fact, the currents at the bend of the creek had under- 
 mined and exposed a section of the ridge at this point and the shells 
 appeared to be ten feet deep. The wagon road from Bedell's to Lott's 
 Landing, a distance of about eight hundred feet, is on the top of a 
 ridge and is composed almost entirely of shells and black earth, the 
 result of decomposed animal matter. 
 
 All the shells found in these mounds, so far as our research 
 extended, and the condition of the shells would warrant, belong to the 
 order quohog. Excavations made along the ridge for the purpose, 
 among other things, of removing the shells for fertilizers, yielded 
 unsatisfactory results of the remains of man, only a few arrow heads 
 (National History Department, Long Island Historical Society). 
 
 Notwithstanding the strong evidence of the great antiquity of these 
 shell mounds and the universal acceptance of them as the remains of 
 wampum manufactories, we cannot quiet doubts arising in our mind 
 that the Indians ever engaged in any system of organized labor; they 
 seemed to be incapable of the mental and physical concentration. 
 
 57 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Indians of Long Island. 
 
 Sunday, September 2^, 1839 {Continued), 
 
 HE shell heap on our farm, as has been stated, was at the 
 head of canoe navigation on the stream which is a branch 
 of the Hick's Neck (Milburn or Lott's) Creek, and 
 about three miles from the bay, or clamming ground, 
 and was probably the center of a village commun- 
 ity. 
 
 My grandfather said that in his day many Indians and 
 half-breeds (some are still living there) had become fairly re- 
 spectable farmers and had conformed to a great extent with 
 the English mode of life. There are families of half-civilized 
 natives who lived in the neighborhood the year round in com- 
 munities consisting of twenty to thirty who seemed to have 
 survived to better conditions. They were a peaceable, quiet 
 people, would not beg, but would steal when pinched by hun- 
 ger. They occupied little patches of ground which they tilled 
 and which some of them owned; others were squatters. They 
 fished and picked berries in summer, and trapped in winter, 
 made baskets and made the nets of fishermen. 
 
 The great staple earth products of the Indians were maize 
 and beans, from which we have succotash, also samp-porridge, 
 pure Algonkin words. They were also great berry eaters and 
 during the summer the huckleberries, grapes and particularly 
 the wild cherry, contributed largely to their subsistence, al- 
 though there was an abundance of game. The domiciled 
 Indians laid in stores of nuts, the hickory, chestnut and acorns, 
 the latter of which they made into a kind of flour paste and 
 baked it. 
 
 In reverting to the communities spoken of by my grand- 
 father, it illustrates the clannishness of the Indian, a state of 
 society out of which he had only half evolved, although he had 
 
 58 
 
reached the status of a village dweller. If a village community 
 occupied the spot near the shell heap on the farm in times 
 prior to the innovation of the whites, and the concensus of 
 opinion is that they did, then such residences must have con- 
 sisted of long houses, known in the Algonkin as hodensots 
 (long houses), and occupied by from four to six families each, 
 some of the dwellings being eighty or ninety feet long. This 
 was the method of the Algonkin in the structure of their dwell- 
 ings. A cluster of such structures constituted a village with a 
 permanent population. While little doubt remains that even 
 in these early times there was a great influx of native popula- 
 tion to this part of Long Island in the summer, yet the per- 
 manent population was considerable. The emigrating popula- 
 tion lived in wigwams and tents of transitory structure. The 
 permanent village population, although barbarians, had 
 reached that stage toward civilization distinguished as tillers 
 of the ground; they had a government, paid taxes or tribute to 
 support the power which protected them. 
 
 On the arrival of the English, this tribute was paid in 
 wampum to the Pequots and Algonkins of Massachusetts. 
 The Annals of Hempstead^ by Onderdonk; The Antiquities 
 of Hempstead, by Onderdonk; Thompson's History of Long 
 Island, and Furman's Notes are works to be consulted by the 
 inquisitive in matters concerning Long Island in colonial and 
 pre-colonial times. 
 
 We find the Algonkin represented as dwelling in great 
 numbers on the necks of the south side of Long Island. He 
 appeared to be the earliest human occupant and as natural a 
 product of the soil as the wild beasts of the forests, with whom 
 he contended on equal terms "the right to be.'* He had none 
 of the luxuries of life, from our point of view, but he was 
 contented, indolent, improvident and happy. His wants were 
 few and simple, all of which were supplied by the spontaneity 
 of nature; his greatest anxiety was for his next dinner. 
 
 The Indian of Hempstead prior to the advent of the 
 English settlers was not a savage; he had advanced a long 
 
 59 
 
way beyond savagery. He dwelt in communities; he had an 
 unwritten code; he was an agriculturist; he had a currency; 
 his sachems derived their power from the people, popular will. 
 But notwithstanding all this, he could not hold against the 
 white man's civilization, and his decline dates from his first 
 contact with the white man. 
 
 Let it be understood that the Indian, prior to the advent 
 of the white man, was quite a different thing from the degen- 
 erate being of the period of our ancestors. The processes 
 historically of his decline are fragmentary and incomplete, and 
 to fill the hiatus, his historian has resorted largely to specula- 
 tion. Here for nearly two hundred years, or up to the period 
 of the dissolution of the last pure Algonkin, two forces were 
 at work, and processes operating in the presence of each other 
 — one an inferior civilization going out, and another, a super- 
 ior coming in, or supplanting the former. They did not in 
 any marked degree merge or mix. There was no distinct class 
 created, a result of mixture, as the mulatto, the combination of 
 the white and negro. The Indian as a rule could not reach 
 the plane of the white man's civilization and he continued In- 
 dian to the last. 
 
 Of the stages along the line of ascent or descent we now 
 know nothing; we have the result — annihilation. The de- 
 tailed processes which marked the downfall and extinction of 
 the Indian are not of history. All the records we have of 
 the Algonkin at Hempstead South, all that is left from which 
 we are to gather his sad history, and upon which to affirm even 
 his existence, are here and there an earth mound and shell 
 heap of doubtful chronology, a few flint arrowheads and now 
 and then legislation by state and town enactments with evi- 
 dent intentions to save him from his impending fate, but all 
 in vain. Physiologically, here and there in the present gen- 
 eration his characteristics survive in the high cheek bones, 
 straight black hair, almond eyes, dark, sallow complexion, a 
 general unthriftiness, and an indifference to the higher methods 
 of civilization. From the public documents and from private 
 
 60 
 
testimony it would seem that the early settlers in the Town of 
 Hempstead made every effort to treat fairly with the Indian. 
 There is abundant evidence in our possession that my grand- 
 father and great-grandfather had much sympathy for the In- 
 dian. All of which, of course, was from the white man's point 
 of view, viz,, to raise the former to the status of the white 
 man, and prevent the latter from sinking to the status of the 
 savage. The former was difficult to accomplish, the latter dif- 
 ficult to prevent. The Indian was required to substitute for 
 his habits of life those of the white man, and with a large por- 
 tion, and especially the influential class of whites, every effort 
 was used to make this result as easy as possible for the In- 
 dian without compromising the white man or his civilization. 
 There is abundant evidence that there were many white men 
 ready to lapse into savagery. 
 
 The following excerpts of laws concerning the Indian 
 passed in 1664 and at various times subsequently at the gen- 
 eral assemblies, or town meetings, at Hempstead, L. I., are 
 given to show the consideration of the people for the Indian 
 in his helplessness, and also to protect him against the rapacity 
 of designing men and to elevate him, to all of which he seemed 
 so indifferent. No history written at the present day could 
 give more truthfully the true relations between the Indian and 
 the white man than these random extracts from the Laws of 
 the Freeholders of the Town. The following are extracts 
 only of these laws: 
 
 "No purchase of lands from the Indians after the first 
 '*day of March, 1664, shall be esteemed a good title without 
 "leave first being had and obtained from the Governor, and 
 "after leave so attained the purchaser shall bring the Sachem 
 "and right owner of such lands before the Governor to ac- 
 "knowledge satisfaction in the payments received for the said 
 "lands, whereupon they shall have a grant from the Governor, 
 "and the purchase so made and prosecuted is to be entered 
 "upon record in the office, and from that time to be valid to all 
 "intents and purposes." 
 
 61 
 
"All injuries done to the Indians of what nature what- 
 ever shall, upon the complaint and proofs thereof in any 
 court, have speedy redress gratis, against any Christian in 
 as full and ample manner (with reasonable allowance for 
 damage) as if the same had been between Christian and 
 Christian." 
 
 "No person shall sell or give or barter, directly or indi- 
 rectly, any Gun or Guns, Powder, Bullet, Shot, Lead, nor any 
 Vessel of Burthen or Row Boats, Canoes only excepted, 
 without License first had and obtained from the Governor's 
 hand and Seal, to any Indian whatsoever, nor to any person 
 inhabiting out of this Government, nor shall mend or repair 
 any Gun belonging to any Indian, nor shall sell any armour 
 or weapons, upon penalty of ten pounds for every Gun, Ar- 
 mour, Vessel or Boat so sold, given or bartered, five pounds 
 for every pound of powder, forty shillings for every pound 
 of shot or lead, and proportionally for any greater or less 
 quantity." 
 
 "No person shall, from and after the first day of Sep- 
 tember, 1665, directly or indirectly, trade with the Indians 
 for any sort of furs without license first had from the Gov- 
 ernment, which license is to be renewed every year at the 
 Governor's pleasure remained if he shall find just Excep- 
 
 tions." 
 
 "No person whatsoever from henceforth shall Sell, 
 Truck, Barter, give or deliver any Strong Drink or Liquors 
 to any Indian, directly or indirectly, whatsoever known by 
 the name of Rum, Strong Waters, Wine, Brandy, Spirits, or 
 any other Strong Liquors under any other name whatsoever, 
 under the penalty of forty shillings for one pint and so pro- 
 portionably for greater or lesser quantities so Sould, Bartered 
 or delivered, as aforesaid. One third part of this penalty to 
 be to the informer. Provided always that it is and shall be 
 lawful by way of reliefs and chanty to any Indian in case of 
 sudden extremity, sickness, faintness or weariness, to sell or 
 give to such Indian or Indians the quantity of two drames 
 
 62 
 
'and no more of any such Strong Liquors as are afore-men- 
 'tioned. Provided also that the Governor by License may 
 'Authorize any person to sell any or all such Strong Liquors 
 'to Indians upon Security taken from the person Licensed for 
 'his or their good behavior." 
 
 "In all Places within this Government the English and 
 'all others shall keep their cattle from destroying the Indian's 
 'Corne in any ground where they have right to plant, and if 
 'any of their Corne be destroyed for want of fencing, the 
 'Town shall make satisfaction and shall have power amongst 
 'themselves to lay the charge when the Occasion of the Dam- 
 'age did arise. Providing that the Indian shall make proofs 
 'the cattle of such Town of — farms or Person did the 
 'Damage. And for the Indian's encouragement towards the 
 'fencing in their Corne fields such Towns, farms or Persons 
 'where cattle may annoy them that they shall direct, assist 
 'and help them in felling of trees, striving and sharpening 
 'Railes and holling of Posts, allowing one Englishman to 
 'three or more Indians, and shall also draw the fencing into 
 'place for them and allow one man a day or two towards the 
 'setting up of the same. And either sell or lend them tooles 
 'to finish it, provided that such Indian shall fence their Corne 
 'fields or ground at their own expense. And if any Indian 
 'shall refuse to fence their Corne grounds (being tendered 
 'help as aforesaid) in the presence and hearing of sufficient 
 'evidence, they shall keep off all cattle or loose their damage." 
 
 "And if any harme be done at any time by the Indians 
 'unto the English to their cattle, the governor or his deputy 
 'with two of the counsel, or any court of sessions or assize, 
 'may order satisfaction according to law and justice." 
 
 From the very nature of things the Indian could not sur- 
 vive a contest on lines parallel with the white man. He was 
 not fitted to survive such an ordeal. 
 
 In the struggle of civilized life a stored-up energy, or 
 something laid up for a rainy day, in treasures, capital or 
 other available assets, may bridge the possessor over a period 
 
 63 
 
of dearth, or exempt him from the possibilities of sudden and 
 immediate want. The individual may lose his employment, 
 his health and even his friends, but he may be sustained by the 
 storage of force, at least to span or cover a period of the 
 reign of violence. 
 
 The Indian civilization made but a weak provision, or 
 none at all, for such contingency, not enough to ensure him his 
 next meal. He consequently deteriorated rapidly in the strug- 
 gle with the provident white man, and a few years reduced 
 him below the refuse of white society. 
 
 By the destruction of his hunting grounds the Indian was 
 deprived of his means of support under his system and en- 
 forced upon him the customs of a civilization which he de- 
 spised. He therefore lapsed instantly into mendicancy; he had 
 not the flexibility of character to adapt himself to the new 
 environment, the provident methods of the white man, and 
 having no reservoir of stored-up energy, nothing laid up to 
 draw upon during the interim, or emergency — the Inevitable 
 resulted. 
 
 In the government of the tribes each tribe held sway 
 over a territory with fixed boundaries, distinguished by a 
 stream or trail; sometimes stones were set up marking tribe 
 boundaries. When at peace no tribe would encroach upon the 
 territory of another with any but friendly intentions. They 
 would not pursue animals over the boundary. Out of these 
 well-defined customs and laws of the Indians grew a vast 
 amount of trouble when the white man became possessed of 
 the territory of the tribe. We showed no respect for the In- 
 dian custom. There is no doubt much trouble could have been 
 avoided had the whites recognized native rights as the native 
 saw them. The Indian could not enforce his rights; he sub- 
 mitted to force. The quotations from laws on a former page 
 show a magnamlnous effort to assist the Indian, — but it is all 
 White Man. 
 
 One of my grandfathers (a public man) made a state- 
 
 64 
 
ment In a private communication concerning the Merikos In- 
 dian In the early day of his degeneracy, In 1692: 
 
 "He Is always," said he, ''under your feet when you have 
 ''no occasion for him, and never to be found when wanted. 
 "He tills little patches of ground, but we have to plough them 
 "for him and lend him a hoe to work them, and then he will 
 "go to sleep and let the squaw do it. The South Side Indians 
 "are too worthless to live, but not bad enough to be hanged." 
 
 "One day when the thermometer was down to zero," 
 said my grandfather, "an Indian squatter on my place applied 
 "for an armful of wood to keep him from freezing. I 
 "pointed," said my grandfather, "to a tree and told him to 
 "cut it down and use it for firewood. The Indian said he had 
 "no axe. I lent him an axe, and he went to his hut, rolled hlm- 
 "self up in his blanket and laid down, choosing rather to freeze 
 "than work." 
 
 "The Indian youth," said my grandfather, "although of 
 "full blood if brought up in white neighborhoods, is an im- 
 "provement on the old evil. Indian boys are not disliked by 
 "white boys, in fact, they are rather favorites, and white boys 
 "were more frequently found defending the Indian boy than 
 "one of their own blood. They frequently married into white 
 "families; very few whites married squaws. These facts are 
 "attested by our ancestors." 
 
 You could not satisfy an Indian by fair and generous 
 treatment because he did not know what generous treatment 
 was, from his point of view; we looked at It so differently. An 
 Indian captured in war expected torture and he thought you 
 a fool, and lost all respect for you, if you released him. This 
 Is a rule to which there are many noble exceptions of record. 
 
 When the Indian exchanged large tracts of land for two 
 or three old flintlock muskets, two pounds of powder and shot 
 to match, an old broad-axe and two gallons of rum, a mon- 
 strously unfair exchange, but he went away rejoicing at the 
 cupidity of the white man. Bargains of this kind, however,, 
 had to be readjusted sometimes. 
 
 65 
 
In the Journal of a Voyage to New York in 1660 by 
 Jasper Bankers and Peter Sluyter, edited and translated by 
 Hon. Henry C. Murphy, there is a careful description of a 
 house of the Nyack Indians of Long Island. This was a 
 typical residence of the tribe from Maine to Georgia, and 
 which corresponds probably very closely with those of other 
 parts of the Island, and especially with Merikos. 
 
 "We went from hence," said he (Bankers), **to her habi- 
 **tation, where we found the whole troop together, consisting 
 "of seven or eight families and twenty to twenty-five persons, 
 "we should think. The house was low and long, about sixty 
 "feet long and fourteen or fifteen feet wide. The bottom was 
 "earth, the sides and roof were made of reeds and the bark 
 "of the chestnut tree, and were sometimes covered with mats. 
 "The posts or columns were trunks of trees set firmly in the 
 "ground and all fastened together. The top or ridge of the 
 "roof was open about half a foot from one end to the other in 
 "order to let the smoke escape in the place of a chimney; this 
 "could be closed. On the sides or walls of the house the roof 
 "was so low that you could hardly stand under it. The en- 
 "trances or doors at both ends were small and low so that 
 "they had to stoop down and squeeze themselves through. 
 "The doors were made of plaited reeds with flat bark. In the 
 "whole building there was no stone, lime or iron. They build 
 "their fires in the middle of the room on a platform of the 
 "floor. Each family has its own apartment with separate fire. 
 "All those who live in one house are generally of one stock or 
 "clan or descent. The interior of the house was comparted 
 "at intervals of six or ten feet, leaving each chamber entirely 
 "open, like a stall upon the passageway which passed through 
 "the center of the house from end to end. 
 
 "In these dwelling or wigwams some provisions had been 
 "made for the future; they contained a storeroom for nuts, 
 "corn and other provisions. There was a plentiful supply of 
 "furs upon which they slept at night, or which were hung up 
 "as a lining to their houses to make them warm. 
 
 66 
 
**The Indians were found in possession of many of the 
 "useful arts. They possessed the art of striking fire, of mak- 
 "ing fish nets, of making the bow and arrow with the sinew- 
 "string, of curing and tanning skins, of making wearing ap- 
 "parel, moccasins, of making rope and nets from filaments 
 "of bark, of finger weaving of woof and warp, of canoe mak- 
 "ing of skins, birch bark and dug-outs, building lodges, shap- 
 "ing stone mauls, hammers and chisels, of making fish spears 
 "and bone hooks, and music flute and drum." 
 
 The Long Island Indians possessed a form of govern- 
 ment and clearly defined social and home institutions which 
 seemed to regulate their domestic affairs. But it must be re- 
 membered this was the Indian before the white man came; 
 that with the first contact with the white man degeneracy and 
 decay began, and there is a vast difference in the Long Island 
 Indian in his native state and the Indian as we know him. 
 
 As to their religion, we believe the high religious sense 
 which it is said existed among them is a pure fiction of the 
 historian; it had no status. At revival meetings held at the 
 south side at Hick's Neck we observed that among the people 
 of the Neck those most susceptible of religious emotion were 
 those who were suspected of being of Indian descent, and that 
 they, with few exceptions, lapsed into their former indifference 
 when the pressure was removed. As far as they reached, if it 
 can be said that they reached in religious ethics at all, was a 
 distinction between a good Indian and a bad Indian. A good 
 Indian was one true to his friends, who served his tribe faith- 
 fully, supported his family and had killed many enemies. The 
 reverse constituted a bad Indian. No future reward or prom- 
 ise of future reward entered into the religion or ethics of the 
 good Indian. The moral idea of goodness in an Algonkin 
 was faithfulness to his chief and a successful warrior. 
 
 One of the greatest superstitions of the Indians of this 
 part of Long Island was their veneration for the Owl and the 
 Hawk, their totems, and they must be conciliated. 
 
 If the great White Owl should alight near the village, of 
 
 67 
 
an evening, and hoot loudly, it would be regarded as an omen 
 of displeasure and the Sachem would at once assemble a coun- 
 cil of head-men and determine upon a proper propitiatory 
 offering. He must be placated by blood or wampum. 
 
 But the Owl, while held in such high esteem by the Al- 
 gonkins, was held in great abhorence by most other nations. 
 As early as the age of the Mahabhratta and Ramayanna it was 
 an evil genius with the Hindoos; it was an ill omen to the 
 Romans; the Latin poets show great prejudice to it; Virgil 
 calls it an omen of mortality; Lucan stigmatizes it; Pliny calls 
 it a funeral bird, and Shakespeare calls it the ominous and 
 fearful bird of death. The Owl takes high rank with all the 
 races of low civilization or barbarous peoples, all of whom 
 regard it as a symbol of great wisdom, while the more civilized 
 peoples have deserted the owl and accepted the goose, who is 
 confessedly an animal of great stupidity. 
 
 When the Indian mixed and intermixed with the negro 
 they appear to have become extinct, but evidence of Indian 
 blood and characteristics are still distinctly traceable among 
 the white inhabitants of the Necks. What we mean by char- 
 acteristics is complexion, straight hair, high cheek bones, and 
 general unthriftiness. When these are combined in the indi- 
 vidual it is pretty certain that Indian blood prevails. We can 
 enumerate twenty respectable families who four generations 
 ago one side ran into pure Indian. 
 
 The aboriginal American of Long Island, or the Ameri- 
 can Indian, before his contact with the white man in his native 
 state, has been ill understood and grossly misrepresented. He 
 had been pictured a naked savage, cruel, treacherous and re- 
 vengeful, without government or laws; whereas instead of 
 living in an unorganized state where each man is a law unto 
 himself, these people lived under an organized government, 
 rude indeed, but essentially advanced above the conditions at- 
 tained by the savage in other parts of the world. Their social 
 system was very ingenious and complex, being based largely 
 upon kinship ties, and was well fitted for the state they had at- 
 
 68 
 
b 
 
 talned. They had made some considerable advance in politi- 
 cal confederations for defense and to wage war against a com- 
 mon enemy. 
 
 The great outrages said to have been committed by the 
 Long Island Indians were almost to a case in retaliation for 
 some real or imaginary outrages said to have been committed 
 upon them by the whites. 
 
 The Indians of the south shore of Hempstead were never 
 really hostile to the white settlers. True, they sometimes felt 
 aggrieved when punished by the courts for small offenses, but 
 their complaining was never rebellious and did not disturb the 
 white settlers in this part of the town. Especially were the 
 resident Indians of the Hooks thorough friends of the Eng- 
 lish and fairly good faith and conduct were maintained by 
 both in their dealings. 
 
 It was the neighboring Indians who made the trouble in 
 trying to stir up insubordination. The Canarsie, Maspeth, 
 Flushing and the Indians on the north side were the principal 
 aggressors and they were as hostile to our resident Indians as 
 to the whites. On no part of Long Island were the Indians 
 more fairly treated than here, and there are rare instances of 
 gross unfairness. 
 
 The Indian would not steal unless pinched by hunger, at 
 which crisis he had no conception of it being wrong to help 
 himself out of anybody's crib or smoke-house when hungry, 
 and, according to Indian ethics, it was no wrong. He would 
 help himself to poultry, sheep and pig and any kind of vege- 
 tables upon which he could lay his hands, for which offense, 
 under our laws, it was necessary to punish him, but he always 
 felt that he was wronged when punished and complained bit- 
 terly of the injustice, but he was never known to complain of 
 being cheated out of his hunting grounds (which was a more 
 grievous wrong) unless put up to it by some white man. 
 
 The Long Island tribes, when they first attracted the at- 
 tention of the European, had long passed the savage state and 
 were apparently a happy, contented people. Each tribe had its 
 
 69 
 
own Sachem, raised by the tribe and invested by them with 
 office, and his realm was marked by well-defined geographical 
 limits. They were agriculturists and village dwellers, and they 
 were all members of a confederacy. Not only was this an 
 alliance for benefits and mutual protection, but one founded 
 upon consanguinity, bond of kin. 
 
 Their Sachems could declare war, make peace, enter into 
 treaties with foreign tribes, receive embassies, etc. They met 
 around the council fire and smoked the pipe of peace in settle- 
 ment of disputes, or dug up the hatchet in declaration of war. 
 
 All the civilized races on earth known to us have passed 
 through these grades on their upward march* to civilization, 
 except the Polynesians, and theirs is a degeneracy. The aver- 
 age status of the American Indian under his native half-civi- 
 lized code was much higher than the white man under his 
 higher civilization, that is to say, he lived nearer to his ideal 
 than the white man did to his. This fact is borne out by the 
 investigations and testimony of learned ethnological scholars 
 who have pursued all the intricacies of aboriginal character, 
 that from his own standpoint, and that standpoint was com- 
 petent to sustain a state of society without anarchy, that in- 
 dividual rights were as much respected as they were under our 
 own by us. The Indian believed in his superiority, and he had 
 a consciousness that he was no less honorable, no less honest, 
 no less brave, no less moral than the white man, and much 
 more truthful; for all of this the white man's testimony is in. 
 
 It matters not what the code of laws which sustains the 
 social and political conditions of a community, or tribe, or 
 nation, so long as such laws sustain them It is entitled to re- 
 spect. Hospitality to the stranger was upheld by public sen- 
 timent with the Indian. If a stranger entered an Algonkin 
 house, food was immediately set before him (remember that 
 in the savage state food was the great concern of life), to re- 
 fuse which was an affront. If not hungry he must taste and 
 praise Its excellence. This custom was maintained by public 
 sentiment among all the Long Island tribes. 
 
 70 
 
At the time of the discovery of America these social in- 
 stitutions possessed a vitality difficult for the white man to 
 comprehend in a race of savages. But the Algonkins were 
 not a race of naked savages; on the contrary, they dressed 
 well in winter and were great dandies in dress. The Long Is- 
 land Indian was a picturesque character in his native costume, 
 which was far from unbecoming to him, while the white man's 
 clothing was as unbefitting the Indian as the white man's civi- 
 lization. 
 
 Ownership of land, the soil, the fee, or right to convey, 
 was unknown and incomprehensible to the Indian of Long Is- 
 land, but he could under his law reduce unoccupied lands to 
 possession by cultivation, the right of which was respected and 
 would pass by inheritance. The Indian was never brought to 
 comprehend what advantage could possibly accrue from owner- 
 ship in land (the fee) since it could not be eaten or carried 
 away, and from his knowledge and method of reasoning it 
 was just as good for hunting purposes under one owner as an- 
 other. And retrospecting the bitter litigation we have had 
 contingent upon these relations of ownership to transitory 
 game which is attested in our voluminous reports, proves that 
 we were further from a settlement of this question of personal 
 rights than the Indian. His rights had been determined by 
 an unwritten code which by years of application had become 
 the law of the land, better defined than the written statutes 
 of our commonwealth. As to his rights in game, or its pursuit 
 he was unlimited, and its possession constituted perfect owner- 
 ship, over which there could be no dispute. The bear, the 
 deer, the salmon, the duck and all other wild game no man held 
 ownership in until captured; ownership was not determined 
 by territorial limitations of metes and bounds, and so long as 
 the game remained free upon the wing it was its own owner, 
 and subject to the same laws of surprise and capture as he, 
 the Indian, was. The Indian maintained that his right to fish, 
 hunt and clam was co-equal with the squirrel to the nuts on 
 the trees, or the beasts of prey to their victims of the chase. 
 
 71 
 
We have heretofore referred to the dress of the Indian 
 as a subject of no little ridicule by the white man, but no Beau 
 Brummel was ever more circumspect in the style and make of 
 his garments, or the quality of feathers, quality and quantity 
 of paint and grease with which he decorated himself, than an 
 Algonkin brave when dressed for wiar, or for the conquest of 
 some coquettish squaw of a neighboring tribe. The purpose of 
 the white man and the Indian in decorating their persons was 
 identical, but their methods differed vastly; but from the point 
 of view of each both were equally ridiculous. We find the 
 same desire for distinction in individuals by their dress exist- 
 ing in all races, and the same desire to dress richly on the part 
 of those possessing wealth or station, for it must be under- 
 stood that wealth and station had their degrees among the 
 rude Algonkins as among cultured Europeans. 
 
 In winter the Long Island Indian dressed in cured skins 
 made soft and pliable and sometimes ornamented with paint 
 and beads made from shells. They sometimes wore a mantle 
 of fur decorated with feathers. They went bareheaded, their 
 hair trimmed fantastically and thoroughly stiffened with grease 
 and paint. They wore leggins of dressed deer skins and boots 
 of leather. To this, in winter, was added a mantle of fur. 
 The women wore one or two leather skirts, otherwise they 
 dressed as the men. In summer they wore little clothing; 
 children went naked. 
 
 We are not going into the intricacies of political or so- 
 cial life of the Indian to show how, or why, things were done, 
 but simply to demonstrate that they were done. 
 
 The Algonkins maintained a state of society and a gov 
 ernment under which they were happy, prosperous and mul- 
 tiplied, without prisons, jails. Bastilles or Bridewells. 
 
 But it is said that their methods for the enforcemeni 
 of law were summary, brutal and cruel. They did not thin 
 so, but believed them eminently equitable and just. There was 
 but little detail in Indian justice. No one believes that a 
 pre-Columbian Long Islander would have hesitated a mo- 
 
 72 
 
 i 
 
ment if permitted to select between immediate death and one 
 year in a penitentiary. The true Indian scorned a life which 
 entailed degradation when an honorable death was the alter- 
 nate. 
 
 It was only after the Indian had taken degrees in our 
 civilization that life became sweet to him under any condi- 
 tions. Taking this question in the abstract, leaving out all de- 
 tails and definitions, the Indian treated crime as a disease 
 of community and his methods were to eliminate it. Conse- 
 quently all crime was punishable with death; then the cause 
 was removed. We compromise with it, try to cure it, and 
 adopt a graduated scale of punishment according to what we 
 consider to be the enormity of the offense (that is, as it ulti- 
 mately affects society) , but the cause remains. 
 
 Now, if naked results are being sought, regardless oi 
 all other considerations, the Indian was undoubtedly right. 
 We cannot shield ourselves under the plea of inhumanity of 
 the Indian method, for in that respect between his and ours 
 the difference is one only of degree. A death penalty is in- 
 human; so is one year in the penitentiary. Many a grand 
 larceny has affected a community for ill more than some 
 murders. 
 
 This reasoning is an apology for the Indian under his 
 iron-clad environment, not a plea for the adoption of the In- 
 dian method; that, whether good or bad, would be absolutely 
 impossible under our environment, so that all sentimentality 
 is wasted in considering the subject. We cannot fence in 
 reservations to preserve an antiquated civilization; progress 
 cannot be stayed for humanity's sake on the plea of sympathy; 
 nature is remorseless, unrelenting and aims at nothing but to 
 glorify the future. The Indian must fill the bill, or perish. 
 
 But had other methods been pursued with the Indian, 
 more humane and less natural, had our ancestors utterly ex- 
 tinguished, instead of fanning, that remaining spark of Puri- 
 tanism brought from Europe, had they sought for merit and 
 worth in manners not their own, in the social and political 
 
 6 73 
 
system of a people who lived under so little government — 
 so little law — so little crime, without anarchy — without jails, 
 as the Long Island Indian, had they adjusted their civilization 
 to an Indian code of morals, results might have been differ- 
 ent. Had our ancestors taken more interest in this people 
 and their institutions and temporized with them, results might 
 have been more beneficial to white man and Indian. 
 
 It is well known, however, that all efforts to civilize the 
 Indian from the white man's standard have thus far aggre- 
 gated in failure, and in all the instances where the Indian has 
 accepted, or adopted, our habits, customs and mode of living, 
 he had lost all the characteristics for which he was admired in 
 his wild state. The white man's vices were placed before him 
 in a more attractive form than his virtues. The Indian lived, 
 fed, clothed and housed himself from those materials which 
 came readiest to hand and which were obtained with the least 
 exertion on his part. This want of ambition, or ability to 
 contend on new lines familiar to the white man, led to his 
 decay and final extinction, or absorption, and nothing could 
 save him, as thousands of communities of civilized white men 
 have perished under a reversal of conditions. 
 
 The Indian men are hunters and warriors; when old, 
 counsellors, for all their government is by counsel of the sages. 
 There is no force; there are no prisons, or officers, to compel 
 obedience or inflict punishment. The Indian women till the 
 ground, dress the food, nurse and bring up the children and 
 preserve and hand down to posterity the memory of public 
 transactions. The employments of the men and women are 
 accounted natural and honorable. 
 
 The full-blooded Indian, even when he has fully adopted 
 our customs and mode of life, seldom becomes a valuable or 
 desirable member of society. There are noble exceptions. 
 The half-breeds were very much better than the full-bloods. 
 There are many respectable families of Coe's Neck and Hick's 
 Neck and vicinity who can boast aboriginal blood. 
 
 In our youth an old Indian, probably of the Merikos 
 
 74 
 
tribe, dwelt on my father's farm. He was a squatter. His 
 dwelling was a miserable device for a house; it had but one 
 room and a wretched garret. It was located in a clump of 
 dense cedar trees. The only evidence of civilization about 
 the place was a large pear tree in front of the hut, which 
 came there by accident. In this miserable place he lived with 
 his wife, a white woman, less ambitious, if possible, than him- 
 self. To her credit, however, it may be said that she would 
 work. She did washing and cleaning for the neighborhood. 
 This old Indian belonged to a past generation; he wore 
 fringed leggins and a coon-skin cap. He was known by the 
 name of Tom; he had never had any other name, and he did 
 not really require it. He was utterly indifferent about it him- 
 self; he had never been baptized, could not write, had never 
 owned any real estate, paid no taxes, so altogether, another 
 name would have been wasted on him, as no monument was 
 erected to his memory. 
 
 There was plenty of good land surrounding Tom's hut 
 which he could have had to cultivate for the asking, rent free, 
 but he preferred his miserable hand-to-mouth method of living 
 to that of respectably earning it. There was no such thing as 
 thrift in the Indian code, and no such sentiment as earning a 
 living in his philosophy. Thrift was the exception, for 
 wherever the Indian blood prevailed unthriftiness prevailed. 
 
 They improved generation after generation as the blood 
 became diluted, but it was constant in proportion to its purity, 
 and would crop out at intervals amongst the most thrifty. 
 There were, however, noble exceptions to this general rule. 
 There were thrifty, respectable families of nearly pure Indian 
 blood. 
 
 Tom was not a drunkard, but he indulged in more than 
 was good for him of firewater. Now, with all that has been 
 said of Tom, he was an honorable man, a sympathetic, kind 
 man, always ready to do a favor, and when done as a favor 
 would scorn compensation; in fact, possessed qualities which 
 would have been ornamental to many men in higher stations. 
 
 75 
 
Tom was of royal blood, being, as he claimed, a relation of 
 the Sachem Wantagh of the Merikos, and thus lived and 
 died this prince of the royal house of Wantagh. 
 
 Tom had a son who had followed the bay from child- 
 hood during the summer, and he went to school in winter at 
 the district school at Raynortown, where he reached the at- 
 tainments of reading and writing. His Christian name was 
 James and he went by the name of Jim Tom. He grew up 
 perfectly familiar with boats and boating in the bay, and final- 
 ly became the captain of a packet sloop belonging to my uncle 
 running from here to New Brunswick. He was a trusty man 
 and rendered valuable service to my uncle, in whose service he 
 remained many years. He married a white woman from 
 Patchogue and moved to New Brunswick, New Jersey, where 
 he reared quite a family by the name of Tom, some of whom 
 we have been informed attained to positions of prominence 
 and respectability and acquired considerable means. Our 
 knowledge of James Tom ceased when he moved away. We 
 can, therefore, say nothing positive about the advancement 
 of the family, but there is no doubt about it, James Tom was 
 a great improvement on his father. We remember James 
 Tom very well; he was a typical half-breed, with strong In- 
 dian characteristics. He was indolent, but he had some white 
 pride in him, which would sometimes assert itself and he 
 could not reconcile himself to his father's savage mode of 
 life. Unlike his father, he did not indulge in drink. 
 
 "The Long Island Indians in their present degraded 
 condition," says Benjamin Tredwell in a letter to the Governor 
 of Connecticut in 1747, "wear but little clothing, and that of 
 the coarsest and commonest kind. Their dwellings are of no 
 general structure, anything that can afford them shelter. This, 
 however, like most other customs, is not true of all of the 
 resident Indians. Some of them who reside in or near com- 
 munities of the English permanently on little pieces of ground, 
 which they own and cultivate, occupy neat little cottages, and 
 
 76 
 
» 
 
 an air of thrift and cleanliness surrounds them." All of this, 
 however, is in great contrast with the average Indian. 
 Thursday, September 26, 1839. 
 
 All the aboriginal inhabitant Indians and their descendants of the 
 south side of Long Island were familiar with the sea and skilled in the 
 management of boats. John Winthrop testifies that there were canoes 
 on the waters of Long Island that could carry eighty persons. My 
 grandfather said, and it is borne out by tradition, that a great many of 
 these Indians occupied in summer the west side of Milburn Creek, 
 south of Lott's and Bedell's Landing, and that there also was a per- 
 manent settlement there and that the great shell mounds at these places 
 were the result of extensive wampum manufactories before the innova- 
 tion of the vi^hite man (1658). The most extensive shell heaps in 
 the country are to be found in this neighborhood and but little doubt 
 remains that a great deal of wampum was manufactured on the south 
 side of Long Island. A tribute of sixty fathoms was once imposed upon 
 this people. 
 
 Wampum was introduced into New England in 1641, 
 and in 1673 it had become the circulating medium everywhere 
 east of the Mississippi. The superior quality of that manu- 
 factured on the south side of Long Island and between Rock- 
 away and Patchogue was so marked as to be noted in Win- 
 throp's Journal. The purple was twice the value of the white 
 wampum. In 1641 a city ordinance of the Director General 
 Keift deplores the depreciation of this primitive currency. "A 
 great deal of bad seawant, nasty, rough things imported from 
 other places, was In circulation, while the good, splendid sea- 
 want was out of sight, or exported, which must cause the ruin 
 of the country." 
 
 Wampum was made on Long Island for exportation as 
 late as 1830. There were many inferior kinds. In later 
 times the manufacture was taken up by speculators, who made 
 it by machinery. This soon occasioned its depreciation and 
 it passed out of general use, but will ever remain a curiosity 
 and a memorial of the aborigines. 
 
 Whatever may be the result of future investigations, it 
 Is pretty conclusively established that the head center for the 
 production of wampum was Long Island, and probably the 
 Algonkin was the originator, the name being in the Algonkin 
 
 77 
 
language, viz., Wampumpeag; the Dutch called it seawant. 
 The literature of wampum would fill a volume. 
 
 The great body of historical evidence goes to show that 
 currency in shells was in use among the Atlantic coast tribes 
 when first encountered by the white man. Thomas Morton 
 says: "The Indians of New England back in 1630 had a 
 kind of shell in strings which they used instead of money. It 
 was of different values and of different colors. But it had 
 other uses than money. The wampum belts are the most in- 
 teresting wampum productions, and the importance they held 
 in great and ceremonial assemblies is extremely interesting.'* 
 
 There seems, as before stated, but little doubt that Long 
 Island was the principal locality from which the shells were 
 gathered of which wampum was made, and that the vast shell 
 heaps which we have referred to were the refuse of the wam- 
 pum industry. It is impossible from any known records or 
 traditions to demonstrate an approximate antiquity for the 
 use of wampum among the Algonkin tribes. It is not prob- 
 able, however, that a custom so unique and so general could 
 have grown up within the historic period, nor is it probable 
 that a practice foreign to the genius of a tradition-loving race 
 could have become so well established and so dear to their 
 hearts in a few generations, and yet it has no tradition. 
 
 The Mayas of Central America were ages in developing 
 the phonetic system of their pseud alphabet. The Mexicans 
 had an ancient system of picture writing. The Peruvians and 
 the Chinese had a system of knotted cords known as quipos 
 (with the Peruvians), and the Algonkins had their wampum, 
 all of which were more or less imperfect and distinct methods 
 of recording events, or of rendering them permanent. 
 
 The distinction to be made between string wampum and 
 wampum belts is that a belt is composed of a number of strings. 
 Both the string and belt wampum were used for personal dec- 
 oration of male and female. The belt wampum was also 
 used to assist the memory and in recording events, and both 
 
 78 
 
ware also used as money, with a fairly well established value 
 as compared with other standards. 
 
 All of this is demonstrated, for we find it named hun- 
 dreds of times as consideration in whole or in part in the pur- 
 chase of real estate, and in other transactions between the 
 English, Dutch and Indian. 
 
 There were many things which the Indians in their prim- 
 itive state might have used to represent values, and we can 
 only account for the use of beads on the theory of their in- 
 trinsic value. John Jacob Astor is said to have carried tons 
 of wampum west with him for traffic with the natives of the 
 Pacific Coast (Furman's Antiquities). 
 
 From all that is known upon this subject the inference 
 is that up to, or nearly up to, my great-grandfather's time, or 
 about one hundred and eighty years ago, those shell heaps 
 were still in process of formation, which may in some respects 
 throw doubts upon the great antiquity claimed for them; but 
 in exploring them one is struck with the evidence of great age 
 of the lower strata of the shells and the vast period of time 
 which must have elapsed between the first or bottom stratum 
 and the last deposit. 
 
 It has been held and believed by many observing resi- 
 dents of the place that a large Indian village or settlement 
 once existed at or near this location of the shell heap on our 
 farm. This was my father's notion, hypothecated upon the 
 fact that here was a tract of ground consisting of many acres 
 which had been deforested in very early times; the existence 
 of so many spots of burnt earth which he thought might have 
 been fireplaces; then the finding of charred wood, and the 
 generally prevailing tradition that the natives had a large 
 settlement at or near this spot; but we know of no graves or 
 burial places, so necessary an accessory to a compact com- 
 munity; no bones or skeletons were found in the immediate 
 vicinity. More recently, in 1869, we explored the mound and 
 from it and other sources obtained a few unimportant relics, 
 all of which have been deposited in public institutions. 
 
 79 
 
The material generally of the spear and arrowheads was 
 of flint and quartz (pebbles), such as occur at various lo- 
 calities on Long Island, as at Flatbush, Glen Cove, Westbury, 
 Bay Ridge and Montauk Point, in the Glacial Drift. Some 
 of them have been made of quartz-rock, such as is found in 
 sites on Manhattan Island; the axes and hammers were made 
 of various kinds of sandstone. At the period of these finds 
 ethnology was just becoming a classified science in this country, 
 and geology was beginning to assume a recognized position 
 in physical science. 
 
 On digging near the center of the mound the deeper we 
 went the more decayed and friable became the shells. Small 
 pieces of bone, not identified, were also found, with, however, 
 no evidence of the handiwork of man appearing, and at the 
 depth of two and a half feet the shells ceased altogether. 
 They rested upon a hard gravel resembling that in other parts 
 of the field, except that the gravel was black, being stained 
 by the decayed animal matter. We confirmed the statement 
 of my father that none of the shells had been designedly 
 broken and that it was, consequently, not a wampum manufac- 
 tory. The mound showed stratification, or intervening layers 
 of soil. This no doubt came from not using the same spot 
 consecutive years. So firm and compact were the shells that 
 the digging with a spade was extremely difficult. 
 
 80 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Geology of Long Island.— Sheep Parting.— Ancient Laws in Regard to 
 
 Sheep Herding. 
 
 Thursday, September 29, 1839. 
 
 iF it be true, as stated by Dr. Gale in his Geological Lec- 
 ture (in 1838) on the Ice Age, of the vast effect of the 
 glacial epoch — epoch of ice — upon the topography of the 
 ^1^:^^^^ earth, and especially upon the contour and altitude of 
 Long Island, then it would be well for us to familiarize 
 ourself with the subject, because it seems to us that the 
 theory of Dr. Gale, if applied to territory upon which we are engaged, 
 might throw a vast amount of light upon some heretofore unexplained 
 effects, the cause of which to the present is a profound mystery. In 
 due time we shall look into the new science of glacial action and apply 
 it to our little territory of Long Island; there is apparently so much 
 good sound common sense in Dr. Gale's reasoning upon the new ice 
 theory, and that to the glacial activity may be charged many of the 
 incongruities of the surface of Long Island. 
 
 The glacial theory solves many problems mysterious to 
 us when a boy. The brook which ran through the farm, 
 upon the banks of which was located the shell heaps hereto- 
 fore referred to, had evidently once been a stream of con- 
 siderable volume, for since our childhood it has much 
 shrunken, the far greater portion of its ancient bed being 
 absolutely dry. We have traced the stream to its ancient 
 source, the base of the hills traversing the length of Long 
 Island, and which are the terminal moraine of the glacial 
 age. The course and ancient bed of the stream can be traced 
 with as great certainty as if the water was still flowing through 
 its channel. The erosion by the current having been very great 
 had worn the earth away to a depth of ten feet and had left 
 gently sloping banks composed entirely of glacial drift on 
 either side. There are also bottom lands evidently once 
 covered by water, the accumulations of vegetable matter on 
 these bottoms record the natural history of the territory 
 
 81 
 
through which the stream ran. There is no essential differ- 
 ence In the character of the work of erosion done by this 
 little stream, except in magnitude, and the great Mississippi. 
 All the characteristics which mark the lake basins and ice 
 dams of the great lakjes of the Northwest we find, in minia- 
 ture, and all the features which mark the Algonkin beach of 
 Lake Huron are here. 
 
 Near the shell heap or at the point heretofore desig- 
 nated as head of canoe navigation, and three or four hun- 
 dred feet distant up the stream to the eastward, the stream 
 passes between two considerable elevations about two hundred 
 feet apart. These hills in early times were connected and 
 continuous across the stream and formed what is known as 
 a glacial dam; a lake about a mile long was formed above 
 the dam; Its shore lines are still distinctly traceable. For 
 some cause this dam gave way and emptied the lake, and 
 the material which formed the dam was carried down with 
 the flood and deposited, and can be positively identified, about 
 three hundred yards down the stream. 
 
 The drying up of this and other streams on Long Island 
 presents to us a vast field for research and speculation. It 
 would seem that the drying of these streams was caused by a 
 gradual rising of the land, but there is abundant evidence 
 that around the margins of Long Island, especially the south 
 shore, the land is sinking. These lands were anciently covered 
 with forests, all of which have long since disappeared, mostly 
 through the Instrumentality of man, some by the encroach- 
 ment of the sea, the remains of the last named forest can 
 now. In many places, be seen under the overflowing waters. 
 
 That such movements are taking place on our earth has 
 been demonstrated by Lyell. And Professor Hitchcock has 
 shown that subsidence Is taking place on Long Island, Nan- 
 tucket, Martha's Vineyard and Cape Cod, in his geology of 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 The drying up of the stream may have resulted from 
 one of two causes, the clearing away of the forests and land 
 
 82 
 
cultivation, or upheaval of the land. The latter of which does 
 not seem to be soluble upon this immediate territory, we 
 mean the question of subsidence, or upheaval, we must con- 
 sequently try issues elsewhere. 
 
 Since the last mentioned period, the glacial, the old 
 Atlantic has persistently contested her sovereignty over the 
 territory of Long Island; slowly but surely she is winning it 
 back, and the time will come when she will again command 
 to the base of the hills where she reigned 280,000 years ago. 
 
 In geological time this period is not far remote. As an 
 evidence of the truth of what we have just said, we have 
 only to observe the insinuating progress of the south beach 
 upon the bays and marshes skirting the southerly rim of the 
 upland of Long Island. It is not an uncommon thing to find 
 a mass of marsh out in the very breakers half a mile from 
 any other marsh land, which has, so to speak, passed under 
 the ridge of beach hills and is now breaking up on the ocean 
 side. These changes which have and are now taking place 
 on the Hempstead Beach, near or in the vicinity of what was 
 formerly known as New Inlet, have been enormous. All the 
 openings or inlets through the beach are gradually working 
 their way w^estward, while the general tendency of the beach 
 or strand is inland, and in some places it moves quite rapidly, 
 and hills now cover marsh lands from which men now living 
 have harvested hay. 
 
 New Inlet, where the channel was formerly sixty feet 
 deep, is now entirely closed, and sand dunes, thirty feet high, 
 occupy the site. A thousand acres of flats once spread out 
 in front of White Hill, on the south side of the east channel 
 or run. These flats were formerly famous soft-shell clamming 
 grounds. Many barrels of clams were taken from there at 
 every low water. The flats were covered at high water, and 
 they, with the hills bordering upon the ocean on the south, 
 are now entirely washed away and a considerable depth of 
 water exists there. 
 
 Our first recollection of New Inlet (so called because 
 
 83 
 
it had newly broken through the sand hills) was when it was 
 in direct continuation of Swift Creek. It has worked west- 
 ward to the White Hills and then it still continued westward 
 until opposite Sea Dog Creek (so named from the sea dogs 
 taken there in early times). The current of the flood tides 
 from the ocean was very rapid and it dredged this creek out 
 to a great depth, and also widened it, and Sea Dog Creek 
 became the principal outlet to the ocean, as Swift Creek, 
 about one mile easterly, and White Hill or Long Creek had 
 formerly been. These localities were also famous fishing 
 centers, the deep water making them the resort of many 
 varieties of fish. Sea Dog Creek was famous for kingfish 
 and weakfish. Swift Creek was noted for sheepshead, striped 
 bass, blackfish, black-bass and porgies; many other varieties 
 were taken in these and other localities. Long Creek had 
 many fine fishing grounds. Scow Creek was noted for its 
 flounders. Probably no locality on the Atlantic coast of the 
 United States was stocked so abundantly and with such 
 variety of molluscs, crustaceans, vertebrates and invertebrates 
 of the sea as this immediate portion of the Great South Bay 
 of Hempstead, Long Island. 
 
 The portion of Long Island under consideration pos- 
 sessed a large aboriginal population, on the basis of savage 
 populations scientifically estimated, i. e., means of subsistence. 
 
 The necessaries of life were here produced in abundance 
 and there was no region where subsistence was more easily 
 procured. In all such localities the largest development of 
 population would naturally be found. 
 
 The hunt or chase is an uncertain and precarious means 
 of maintenance, and for many reasons the supply is some- 
 times cut off; the food supply for game may be scarce, in 
 which event it seeks other fields. Concerning the supply of 
 fish, molluscs and crustaceans, however, it is quite different; 
 the bay and ocean nursery is always profuse and unlimited. 
 
 The herding of the barbarian in early times on the necks 
 of land jutting into the bay had its counterpart in the rush 
 
 84 
 
 1 
 
of the white emigrant for these localities; they immediately 
 invaded these territories. Rockaway, Hick's Neck, Coe's 
 Neck, Raynor's Neck, and all along the south side to the 
 Hamptons were filled up long before a foot of the interior 
 or territory between what is now the south road and Hemp- 
 stead, or Middle Island, was occupied by settlers. The obvi- 
 ous reason was the same which concentrated the Indian popu- 
 lation there, the ease with which the means of subsistence 
 could be obtained from the bay during the tedious period of 
 clearing up the forests and bringing the soil to a condition to 
 remunerate their labor, and the country supported a vastly 
 greater population of civilized men than savages. Their 
 Improved methods of agriculture, use of firearms and the 
 metals, gave civilized man a vast advantage over the savage. 
 
 Returning to the old diary, the entries followed pretty 
 regularly from the last entry down to the present, consisting, 
 however, mostly in reference to books we had read, with 
 extracts and comments preserved to aid the memory. The 
 storehouse of books from which we drew were limited almost 
 exclusively to "Harper's Family Library," kept in the district 
 library at Raynortown, Willet Charlick being the librarian. 
 Mr. Charlick was indefatigable, and we may enter a tribute 
 to his memory. In his efforts in getting books and placing them 
 in the hands of the young people of the district to create a 
 love for reading. 
 
 Friday, October 20, 1839. 
 
 The historical literature of Long Island has a narrow range, limited 
 to a few books only. Silas Wood's Sketch of the First Settlements 
 Upon Long Islandj and Benjamin F. Thompson's History of Long 
 Island, An Account of the Discovery and Settlement, etc., to the Pres- 
 ent Time, is the list of books at our command upon the subject. The 
 former was published in 1828 and the latter has just been issued, 1839. 
 
 These two works cover important fields in the history of Long 
 Island, but are vastly wanting in that interesting and gossippy detail 
 which is the charm of local history and which is to be gathered only 
 when there is a profuse literature to draw from in oral legend or printed 
 records. These works, considering the limited amount of material to 
 which their authors had access, are marvels of reliable information. 
 
 85 
 
We have also some historical sermons and orations useful in their 
 way, but too special to be available to the historian. We also have 
 Furmans Notes, published in 1824, but they relate chiefly to Kings 
 County and Brooklyn. The above works have begotten a thirst in us 
 for more of the details of Long Island history, to obtain which involves 
 laborious research amongst the town and county records and appeals to 
 private papers and documents and to the unwritten traditions and leg- 
 ends with the experiences of the oldest citizens. 
 
 All these sources must be exhausted, and Thompson in his pioneer 
 work has given satisfaction and laid out the field for his more elaborate 
 successor. 
 
 Tuesday, October 15, 1839. 
 
 Went with father this day to the sheep parting to bring home our 
 sheep that had been turned out on the plains last spring. 
 
 The Hempstead Plains is one of the most marked features of Long 
 Island. This tract of territory, being sixteen miles in length and con- 
 taining sixty-four square miles, has a prairie-like appearance, and it is 
 the common pasturage ground for the town of Hempstead. By a 
 strange misconception the soil was deemed by the early settlers too 
 poor for cultivation, and yet the secretary grass grew in some places to 
 the height of four feet. In 1670 Daniel Denton says: "There is neither 
 stick nor stone, and it produces very fine grass, which makes excellent 
 good fodder for winter, but it is more especially valuable for pasturage." 
 
 Sheep raising was followed from the earliest settlement of the 
 town of Hempstead. The sheep were branded or marked and pas- 
 tured in common upon the Great Plains. This common pasturage was 
 carefully guarded, as shown by an act of June 17, 1726: 
 
 "To prevent the setting on fire or burning the old grass on Hemp- 
 "stead Plains, done by certain persons for the gratification of their own 
 "wanton temper and humors, an act was passed and a committee 
 "appointed to take charge of this matter and with power to arrest all 
 "persons whom they suspected of mischief. Captain John Tredwell, 
 "Mr. James Jackson, Mr. William Cornwell, Nathaniel Seaman, 
 "Benjamin Seaman, Obadiah Valentine, Thomas Williams, Peter Titus, 
 "Henry Willis, John Pratt, Caleb Carman, Nathaniel Townsend, John 
 "Tredwell, Jeremiah Robbins, Thomas Powell, Samuel Jackson, 
 "Thomas Seaman and John Mott were appointed such committee to 
 "enforce the law against transgressors." 
 
 The sheep parting was a very simple institution on its first intro- 
 duction in this country. But on Long Island, in consequence of the 
 great interest taken in stock, it became a great public doing.* 
 
 *Att a general Town meeting, 3d day of April, 1733. It was by unani- 
 mous Voate agreed and determined by the freeholders of ye Sd Township that 
 all sheep belonging to them shall run at larg on the plaines without molestation 
 and have free access to all the commons, and that if any parson or parsons 
 Shall at any time drive the said sheep so as to fold or to pen, or Shall by wais 
 
 86 
 
' Sheep were not introduced In the town as early as cattle. 
 In 1643 there were not over sixteen sheep in the whole colony 
 of New York. They were fed on the great plains under the 
 care of a shepherd, whose directions were not to let them 
 go over half a mile in the woods for fear of being lost, or 
 destroyed by wolves. No one was allowed to take away any, 
 even his own sheep, from the common flock, or kill it but in 
 the presence of two witnesses. 
 
 Every owner had an earmark for his sheep, which was 
 recorded in the town books. These marks were bought and 
 sold; ingenuity was exhausted in devising new ones. There 
 were sheep stealers who have been known to alter these 
 marks. In the fall the sheep were pounded by the pounders 
 into pens agreed upon at the town meeting. In 1710 the 
 pens were at Isaac Smith's, at Herrick's, at another time at 
 Success, perhaps by reason of the convenience of having water 
 at hand. After the sheep had been pastured on the plains 
 during the summer, on an appointed day in October or 
 November, the owners met for the parting. 
 
 On April 1, 1845, the town meeting appointed the last 
 Monday in October for sheep parting. The sheep tenders 
 severally arose early on that day and commenced driving in 
 the sheep from the outskirts of the plains to a large central 
 pen, then each owner selected his own by the ear mark and 
 
 Intice them into their fields or inclosures, that the parson so offending shall be 
 prosecuted or sued for every such offence before any Justice of the peace by 
 the parsons hereafter named in the behalf of the said Town, and out of the 
 money arising from the damages, given by the said Justice on these suits or 
 prosecutions the parsons who sue or prosecute in the behalf of the Town for 
 such trespases or damages shall be paid for their trouble and Charges in 
 prosecuting the same, and it is further voated that Peter Titus, Thomas Wil- 
 liams, John Jackson, Junior, John Smith, rock Senior of the north side, John 
 Dosenboro of forsters meadow and Isaac Jarman shall be the overs to take care 
 of the Sheep, to prosecut for said trespass or offences, and they arc desired to 
 be very diligent in the discharg of their trust, and it is also voated and agreed 
 that no rams be turned out or suffered to run at large on the said plains or 
 Commons from the first day of August next untill the first day of October next. 
 The services rendered by any citizen in keeping coarse wool rams from the 
 flocks on the plaines will be paid by Col. Tredwell, who has money in his 
 hands for that purpose. 
 
 This voat to be in force for the year ensuing and no longer. 
 
 Liber D, page 453, Town Records. 
 
 87 
 
 W' 
 
put them in their individual pens. This process was con- 
 tinued until all the sheep were taken out; but if some yet 
 remained without a claimant on the last day they were sold 
 at outcry to the highest bidder and the proceeds went toward 
 paying expenses. 
 
 The sheep parting in the fall is of historical interest. 
 It was the great holiday of the times. Here rogues, thieves 
 and bullies congregated, creditors came in quest of debtors, 
 dealers and traders of all kinds advertised their wares, 
 horses were swapped and scrub races had; betting, gambling, 
 drinking and fighting were in the order of the day's enter- 
 tainment. To counteract these numerous evils, the town 
 enacted a law that there should be no tavern or selling of 
 liquor at the pens. 
 
 There seems to be no good reason why so many people should 
 congregate at the Sheep Parting, except, like sheep, one goes because 
 another goes. It took place on the open Hempstead plains a little 
 southwest from Westbury. Permanent pens had been erected upon 
 the ground in which to confine the sheep while they were being re- 
 claimed, otherwise there was not a structure, shed, tree or particle 
 of shelter of any kind upon the territory proper on which this omni- 
 verous fair was held except the temporary booths and tents erected by 
 tradesmen and showmen. 
 
 There was a vast number of people gathered at this bleak and un- 
 inviting spot, summing up into the thousands. To natives of Queens 
 County who had resided long from home, sheep parting and camp meet- 
 ing were occasions to meet and greet old acquaintances, reunions — 
 not that they had either sheep or religious purposes to serve, but a fairly 
 excusable object, the social. Everybody went to sheep parting and 
 camp meeting. But with a large percentage, sheep parting was simply 
 made the occasion for a great frolic of the masculine persuasion. The 
 number of those who came for the ostensible purpose of the fair, or 
 sheep parting, was comparatively small, and they generally transacted 
 their business and went home; the fun followed. All the princes in 
 small gambling were there, from Sam Wait and Nick Searing, with 
 their sweat-cloths, to New York thimble riggers and experts at three 
 card monte, and a limited number of representatives from the light- 
 fingered fraternity. 
 
 In eatables and drinkables the commissariat was ample for any 
 contingency. Patty Ann Wright was there with cake, gingerbread and 
 vivant beer; oysters, watermelons by the wagon load. There was hot 
 
 88 
 
corn, a traffic monopolized by the darkey, and served with scrupulous 
 neatness. 
 
 Among the amusements there was a troop of lofty tumblers, clowns, 
 harlequins and pantaloons, whose wit and flexible bodies were marvelous 
 exhibits. 
 
 But the most attractive, best patronized and most creditable sport- 
 ing feature of the fair was the dancing, foot-racing, leaping and wrestling 
 matches. These sports were carried on with order and decency by 
 persons who were lovers of athletics. This was by far the most manly 
 and respectable feature of the show. Officers of the law maintained 
 order. 
 
 The fat woman, who weighed four hundred pounds, more or less, 
 and the skeleton man, who weighed only sixty pounds, less or more, — 
 the former in a tent, the latter in a covered wagon. The purveyors 
 of the two last itinerant marvels of human phenomena stood at the 
 doors of their respective institutions proclaiming in Thrasonic voices 
 the merits of their products. All for one shilling. The above by no 
 means exhausts the bill of fare. 
 
 It being now near the fall election, the politicians also made sheep 
 parting the occasion for putting their goods on the market, and ven- 
 tilate their righteous purposes of reform and expose the rascality of the 
 other side. (A matter susceptible of easy proof.) A little outside of 
 the main show ground, or aside from the sheep pens and on another 
 part of the field, a stand had been erected by the Whigs on which was 
 displayed a large poster, "Opposed to Selling the Marshes and Plains." 
 Year after year propositions had been made, plans submitted and voted 
 upon at town meetings, and committees appointed for dividing the 
 common lands of the town, all of which, for reasons, failed in fruition, 
 but it was nevertheless made a campaign issue when its agitation was 
 likely to affect the popular vote. Not more than two hundred feet dis- 
 tant from the stand was another platform erected by the Democrats. 
 At these two stands were holding forth respectively William McNeil 
 and Bernardus Hendrickson and other local spoilsmen upon the great 
 national questions of the day, and the merits of their party candidates 
 for the November election. 
 
 Some go to sheep parting for business, some for social intercourse, 
 more for fun. The programme of entertainment is so extempore, varied 
 and impulsive that one who goes for coarse fun can hardly fail of finding 
 some agreeable comedy or comic tragedy. The ostensible purpose of 
 sheep parting, originally participated in only by farmers, was to collect 
 their sheep, which had been corralled by the keepers, and drive them 
 home to house them for the winter, and fully and particularly set forth 
 in the acts of the General Assembly of the people.* 
 
 ♦At a Town Meeting held in Hempstead, the first Tuesday in April, 
 1768, the following resolution was adopted: 
 
 Whereas it has been the practice for many persons in this Towne to Drive 
 ye Sheep feeding on Hempstead plains up into private yards in many parts of 
 
 •7 ' 89 
 
Stock raising, and especially sheep for their wool and mutton, was 
 followed by the people of the town of Hempstead from the earliest set- 
 tlement and has been continued up to the present, but the census shows 
 a decline in the number of sheep raised for the past few years. Great 
 care has always been observed in the management of the common lands, 
 the plains and the marshes, so important a factor in stock raising. The 
 earliest record we have of stock tenders was in 1658, when William 
 Jacocks and Edward Raynor were appointed by the General Assem- 
 bly of Townsmen to look after the cattle and sheep on the plains and 
 preserve them from thieves and wolves. And we believe these offices 
 have been filled at the town meetings or General Assembly to the pres- 
 ent. One of the great enemies of the farmer to sheep raising was the 
 wolf; eternal vigilance alone prevented whole herds being destroyed by 
 them. My grandfather said it was his impression that there were but 
 few wolves on Long Island prior to the introduction of the sheep in- 
 dustry. The wolf's sense of smell is very acute and he will smell a 
 sheepfold miles away. They come over in the winter on the ice of the 
 East River or Sound in great numbers and the following season great 
 havoc was made among the sheep, although great efforts were made to 
 destroy them. A bounty of twenty shillings* a head was given to every 
 one destroyed, but they seemed to fill their decimated ranks every 
 winter and there was little or no diminution to their numbers or depre- 
 dations. Renewed efforts, however, on the part of the town officers 
 soon had its effect and they began to decline. The wolf became very 
 bold and ravenous when pressed by hunger, and numbers are the in- 
 stances in which he invaded the farmyards in winter and carried away 
 
 the Town in order to Separate and pick out their own perticular Sheep from 
 day to day Sometime before the day fixed for a general parting, whereby the 
 flock is so Scatered that people are put to Much Greater Deficulty in Collecting 
 them togather than if they were let run to the day of General parting, to pre- 
 vent which for the futer the Major part of the freeholders assembled at this 
 Town Meeting do Make the under Mentioned Orders, that is to Say that ye gen- 
 eral parting of the Sheep Shall be held in the fall of the year on the first Mon- 
 day in November Yearly, and that after the parting is over in the Spring of 
 the Year No person Shall Drive up Any Sheep in Order to pick out their Own 
 until that day, and then in no other place but at the public Yards in the Town 
 Spott of Hempstead, under the penalty of Twenty Shillings for Each offence, 
 and the persons hereafter Named, or Either of them, are Chosen to Sue for 
 the Said fines and when Recovered to pay it into the hands of the Church 
 Wardens for the use of the poor. 
 
 To Wit: Benjamin Cheesman, Isaac Hendrickson, Ben Gildersleve, Jos. 
 Hall, Carmon Rushmore, Justice Jackson and Peter Titus. 
 
 At the Same time, Timothy Clowes and Silvanus Beadle was chosen to 
 Sell Such Stray Sheep as no Owners Appear to Claim at the time of parting. 
 
 * It is ordered and concluded upon at a general towne meeting held on 
 the 19th day of May, 1663, That any inhabitant of this Towne that shall kill 
 any woolfe or woolfes within three weeks' time from the day above written 
 and within four miles of the Towne, hee shall have twenty five shillings paid 
 him in Corne for every woolfe he killeth; But after the said three weeks' time 
 be expired they are to have but fifteen shillings a woolfe in Corne. 
 
 90 
 
young sheep. These attacks, however, became less frequent and finally 
 ceased altogether. But during their reign many hundreds of sheep 
 were destroyed by them and they sometimes attacked young cattle. 
 
 Sheep parting, as they say nowadays, is ancient history, 
 a back number. It is, however, replete with incident and 
 method of our ancestors, highly illustrative of their lives and 
 times. To the interested reader not reared under the shadow 
 of the old custom, an explanation may be required not 
 included in the foregoing transcript from the journal written 
 over sixty years ago. 
 
 First: It is a survival of an old Friesland custom or 
 enactment. When the townspeople had grazing rights in com- 
 mon to the unappropriated land or common lands, we find 
 in their old law provisions for a cow-herd or calf-keeper, 
 whose duties were precisely those of the keepers appointed 
 at the Hempstead town meeting. This old Norse custom or 
 law was found by our American ancestors to contain useful 
 provisions for their model. 
 
 But the office of cow-herd was never so important a 
 trust in American as with our Norse ancestors, whose herds 
 and flocks constituted their almost entire possessions. Con- 
 sequently its provisions were less rigorously observed and 
 enforced here than in its homestead; but it had degenerated 
 along the whole line of descent until at the present time 
 (1900) all we have to show for one of the most significant 
 customs of our Norse ancestors is the modern pound keepers. 
 As an institution of the town of Hempstead the keeper dates 
 from colonial days or the earliest English settlement. 
 
 It is well known that the Hempstead Plains was, prior to 
 the purchase of Alexander T. Stewart, common lands of the 
 town. It was territory reserved by the original, or in the 
 original grants or patents, to the inhabitants of the town for 
 pasturage of cattle and sheep, and in the early days of the 
 colony thousands of cattle and sheep were pastured there. 
 The further privilege was granted to every freeholder of 
 cutting grass on said plains. The commissioners of high- 
 
 91 
 
ways were required to keep open the means of access to the 
 public watering places, and for the purpose of looking after 
 the interest of freeholders who patronized the public lands; 
 officers were elected at the annual town meetings or town 
 assemblys. A great portion of the acts passed related to 
 sheep, cattle and the common lands. 
 
 But the sheep. Farmers engaged in sheep raising and 
 wishing to avail themselves of the public privilege of turning 
 their cattle and sheep upon the public lands were required to 
 adopt a device to the end of proving their ownership in the 
 event of any dispute at the sheep parting. As before stated, 
 this mark was cut in the ear of the animal. 
 
 There was a period when wool raising in the southern 
 portion of the town of Hempstead was among the industries 
 of the day. Every farmer or planter had his drove of sheep, 
 and to some extent his drove of sheep was an index to his 
 capacity or extent of his plantation. So marked had this 
 industry become that a capitalist by the name of William 
 Clowes built a woolen factory at Mllburn, on the site of the 
 old grist mill. A great many hands were employed in this 
 factory, men and women. Here the wool for the country 
 about was carded, spun, woven and fulled into cloth for con- 
 sumption. We remember the old factory; it did not pay 
 and was discontinued and the grist mill reinstated by Daniel 
 Terry, a millwright. The wool factory, which was a large 
 building, was moved or turned around and made to face the 
 south road and converted into a hotel and so remains today. 
 
 The wool industry and sheep parting on Long Island 
 are things entirely of the past. Yet from the little Long Island 
 beginnings the wool industry of the United States has become 
 the greatest in the world. 
 
 Wool growing has been at various times and by various 
 acts fostered and protected by Congress until it has grown 
 in the southwest to gigantic proportions. The wool factories 
 of the United States are now working into fabrics five hun- 
 dred million pounds of wool annually, and nearly three- 
 
 92 
 
quarters of the raw material is raised in the United States 
 and the whole of it is retained in the country for home con- 
 sumption. Wool raising at the present time is made a special 
 business by those who do nothing else, and the industry, as we 
 remember it of Long Island carried on by farmers having 
 from ten to a hundred sheep on the Hempstead Plains, has 
 grown on the plains of Texas, New Mexico, Utah, Wyoming, 
 Oregon and California, to more than forty millions sheep 
 at the present, and the carding, dyeing, weaving and fulling 
 formerly performed on the farm are now done by the finest 
 and most complicated machinery in the world. The Hemp- 
 stead Plains would not furnish standing room for all the 
 sheep in the United States today. 
 
 Our history of sheep does not go back to a great 
 antiquity, considered geologically. 
 
 "No unequivocal fossils of the sheep have yet been found 
 in the bone-caves, the drift or the more tranquil, stratified, 
 newer pliocene deposits so associated with the fossil bones 
 of oxen, wild boars, wolves, foxes, etc., as to indicate the 
 coevality of the sheep with these species, or in such an altered 
 state as to indicate them to have been of equal antiquity." 
 
 Scientists have directed their attention particularly to this 
 point in' collecting evidence for a history of fossil mammals. 
 No fossil core horns of the sheep have yet been anywhere 
 discovered, and so far as this negative evidence goes we may 
 infer that the sheep is not geologically more ancient than 
 man. That it is not a native of Europe, but has been intro- 
 duced by the tribes who carried hither the germs of civiliza- 
 tion in their migrations westward from Asia. 
 
 Tuesday, November 19, 1839. 
 
 Since the election the weather has been very unsettled. It has 
 rained or snowed, and sometimes both, nearly every day. The roads 
 are very sloppy; we consequently have been unable to visit home for 
 nearly two weeks. Should we have freezing weather, which is prom- 
 ised, will go home next Friday or Saturday, to be present on mother's 
 birthday. Uncle Oliver and Nathaniel Ellsworth are expected to be 
 present. 
 
 93 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Natural History of Long Island. — Professor J. P. Giraud, Jr. — Long Island 
 
 Ichthyology. 
 Friday, March 6, 1840. 
 
 COMET of great magnitude and density, with a tail 
 of enormous extent, made its first appearance in the 
 northern heavens on the 20th of February last, accord- 
 ing to the newspapers, and on the same authority, was 
 approaching the earth at the rate of 1,200,000 miles an 
 hour, and they have ever since been treating their readers 
 to a dessert of horrors — appalling disasters — from this harbinger of 
 evil, providing always that the long-tailed stranger running lawless 
 through the sky should come in collision with our dear old mother earth, 
 as some unskillful and bungling astronomer has predicted it will. — (In 
 which event it would bring grief to the comet.) Great alarm and 
 thousands of prayers (which can do no harm) are being offered to 
 avert so dreadful a calamity. The ignorance of the aforementioned 
 astronomer of the theories of Tycho Brahe, Kepler, Galileo, La Place 
 or Newton is phenomenal. 
 
 Aside from the mere scare there is nothing to apprehend from such 
 a collision of the subtile foreigner, which may be a sister orb in our 
 own stellar commonwealth, and whose orbit, instead of lawless, may be 
 in rigid conformity to law and orbicular allegiance to our central sun. 
 Who knows? 
 
 Whatever the constituent of comets, we have the best assurance 
 in the world that it is not one of their functions to disturb the equilib- 
 rium of solid matter. (Read the result of Herschell's Long Years in 
 Watching the Heavens.) 
 
 But all our platitudes have faded into thin nebula, for it has turned 
 out to be no comet at all. The northern heavens for the past fortnight 
 have been shrouded in a vapory nimbus, more favorable to sensational 
 newspaper speculations than to correct astronomical observation. Hence, 
 these unwarranted rumors. One flash of the clear sky and true science 
 reported that no derelict of the sky had invaded the planitoid universe 
 of the boreal heavens. And the dreaded comet turned out to be only 
 a flushed supply of harmless zodiacical light (phosphorescence or gas). 
 Aurora borealis, entirely impotent of harm. We can never be quite 
 certain of anything told us, even though we see it in the papers. 
 
 1839 — 40. 
 
 J. P. Giraud, Jr., a naturalist, occupies the carpenter and wheel- 
 wright shop of George Smith at Raynortown for the purpose of collect- 
 
 94 
 
ing natural history specimens, and especially birds of Long Island. 
 Many of his specimens are already mounted, and this old shop possesses 
 peculiar attractions to us, and we are a frequent visitor and have per- 
 sonally supplied many of the bird and other natural history specimens 
 which now adorn the collection of Professor Giraud, for which the pro- 
 fessor paid liberal prices to the grubber. He was very kind, and dis- 
 coursed freely on natural history subjects. 
 
 This labor of Professor Giraud resulted in one of the 
 most exhaustive popular works on this subject ever published 
 in this country, "Birds of Long Island," containing three 
 hundred and ninety-seven pages and describing five hundred 
 and sixty varieties of birds. 
 
 This professor was fully equipped for his work. He 
 was a member of the Lyceum of Natural History of New 
 York, corresponding member of the Academy of Natural Sci- 
 ences of Philadelphia, etc., and his plain little book, which 
 appeared In 1844 from the press of Wiley & Putnam, Is a 
 monument to his Industry and talent. 
 
 In his preface to that work he says: "In preparing a list 
 of the birds of Long Island, I have studiously avoided intro- 
 ducing any species that I have not met with, or received from 
 the very best authority an Intimation of Its occurrence In our 
 locality." 
 
 The occurrence on Long Island of many species that are 
 rarely or never observed in other parts of the middle dis- 
 tricts, win doubtless appear somewhat remarkable to those 
 who are unacquainted with the locality. But when they exam- 
 ine the map and find that this lengthy and comparatively 
 narrow Island extends some distance Into the ocean nearly at 
 right angles to the mainland of the continent, containing within 
 Its boundaries numerous bays. Inlets, shoals and bars abound- 
 ing In all the various kinds of food peculiar to every species 
 of marine bird. It will not seem surprising that these species, 
 which are more abundant on the higher as well as the tem- 
 perate latitudes, should, In their wanderings, visit these 
 hospitable shores. 
 
 Not only Is our section the resort for nearly every species 
 
 95 
 
of water bird found within the limits of the United States, 
 but out of less than five hundred birds now ascertained to 
 belong to North America, two hundred have been frequenters 
 of this famous little island. In fact, no portion of our country 
 of the same extent is richer in resources for the student of 
 natural history or more inviting to the sportsman than this 
 garden of the middle districts. 
 
 The Great South Bay, occupying a distance of seventy 
 miles of uninterrupted inland navigation, with its sea-washed 
 shores, abounding in numerous species of shellfish and other 
 fish, doubtless contains treasures yet unknown to the ichthyolo- 
 gist or conchologist. Here is also a field for the zoologist, 
 botanist, geologist and ethnologist. Professor Jacob P. Gi- 
 raud died at Poughkeepsie ; his ornithological collection was 
 presented to Vassar College of that place. 
 
 Tuesday, March 10, 1840. 
 
 Today Uncle Daniel Smith launched a sloop, built by himself dur- 
 ing the past year. The launching was attended by quite a crowd of 
 neighbors. The sloop Is designed for coasting and traffic and was 
 christened "Plough Boy," being the fifteenth sea-going craft launched 
 from this yard. 
 
 In tracing its career, the old "Plough Boy" is still (1904) 
 doing service as an oyster boat. The events and vicissitudes in 
 the life of the old coaster account materially to its great 
 longevity and vitality. Having been once in collision with a 
 Hamilton Avenue ferryboat, being badly broken up and sunk, 
 on another occasion pretty thoroughly burned out. On each 
 of the above and on various other minor occasions the old Boy 
 has been renovated and restored to an extent that little now 
 physically remains save the name, the keel and the model, of 
 the original "Plough Boy," nearly every original timber having 
 been substituted by new. 
 
 It is strange, considering its "strenuous life," that the 
 old "Plough Boy" should have escaped dissolution through 
 the popular calamity of shipwreck. But it is not too late yet, 
 providing the old weathered veteran is doomed to an end of 
 
 96 
 
violence; if such, let it be a graceful and dignified shipwreck 
 while in vigorous life. At all events, let us hope that it may 
 be saved the mortifying fate of being dismantled and aban- 
 doned, a prey to the teredo, in the corner of some inf requented 
 creek or estuary of the South Bay, an outcast, an impediment 
 to navigation, there to swale with the ebb and flow of the slug- 
 gish tide, with hatchways grown up with salt sedge, until final 
 entombment in the accumulating mud and filth of the neighbor- 
 ing sewer. Better turn turtle or derelict in mid-ocean, or per- 
 ish on some ignoble sand spit, battling the elements, than such 
 a fate — die game. 
 Saturday, April 4, 1840. 
 
 From our earliest childhood we have beheld with marvelous ad- 
 miration the phenomenon of the migration of a flock of wild geese. 
 There are but few Long Islanders who are not familiar with the mys- 
 terious annual pilgrimage of the wild goose northward in the spring 
 and his return in the fall. 
 
 A flock of fifty of these bulky, awkward winged bipeds in pro- 
 cession, following each other in strict Indian file in an absolutely 
 straight line, with a captain on the right side, about a quarter of a mile 
 overhead, sweeping noiselessly along at the rate of sixty miles an hour, 
 is an interesting spectacle. It is an exhibition of great determination 
 of purpose and a stateliness of movement which commands attention, 
 and even admiration. They appear to be engaged in a great and im- 
 portant mission and all other business has been laid aside until its ful- 
 fillment. 
 
 On the appearance of a flock of geese, first indicated by an occa- 
 sional "Honk" of the captain gander, the farmer will suspend work, 
 poise himself on his hoe, scan the horizon until he has located it, and 
 will not resume labor until it has passed out of sight. The man on the 
 road will stop, the carpenter will lay down his hammer, and from the 
 school child to the gray-haired sage, all find a momentary interest in 
 witnessing this extraordinary flight of the wild goose. Yet there is 
 nothing so very peculiar in the sight, or movement of a flock of geese. 
 They travel in a straight line for their destination, and at a great 
 speed, and appear to be wonderfully in earnest in carrying out their 
 purpose. But they are a desperately dissatisfied race; the places they 
 make their homes are alternately too hot and too cold. Consequently 
 a large portion of their time is spent in getting ready (packing up) 
 and moving twice a year. 
 
 And many gentlemen and ladies of our northern states who pos- 
 sess the means and can command the leisure — and who do — escape the 
 rigors of our Arctic winters in migrating with a frain of family ser- 
 
 97 
 
vants, baggage and trunks to Florida (Ponce de Leon), or some other 
 tropical paradise, have many traits in common with a goose. 
 
 On the flight of the goose we hypothecate an early spring, or late 
 winter, but the goose knows no more about the weather than our 
 Brooklyn Heights philosopher, Merriam. For two days past the flight 
 of wild geese has been the most extraordinary ever known in this part 
 of the country, so great as to provoke comment. This fact is attested 
 by the oldest people of the place, and if a cause for this were needed, 
 the following may prove satisfactory: 
 
 The wild goose in migrating to his summer habitation, as he does 
 every spring, from his native jungle of the Gulf States to higher lati- 
 tudes, sometimes tarries on the way, either to obtain rest, or food, or 
 both. The weather for the past four or five days has been cool and 
 large bodies of these birds halted and have been feeding in and about 
 the Chesapeake Bay and other bays on the coast. The weather being 
 agreeable to them, they remained, and with the fresh arrivals of each 
 day they became a great multitude. When the weather suddenly 
 changed to a higher temperature, they resumed their pilgrimage for 
 the same reason and pretty nearly at the same time. This southern 
 exit extraordinary accounts for the great flight which has continued for 
 two days. We saw today ten flocks of geese in sight at the same mo- 
 ment. 
 
 The wild goose has great powers of flight and flies very high, just 
 beyond the reach of shot guns. Great numbers have been known to 
 rendezvous in the Great South Hempstead Bay in former times, and 
 when not disturbed by hunters, have remained several days while 
 feeding was good and the weather not too warm. They are very 
 timid, easily frightened, and the discharge of a shot gun would startle 
 every goose within its hearing. It is in consequence of the cautiousness 
 that so few are taken during their sojourn in our waters. The wild 
 goose is very social with his kind and when flying keeps up at pretty 
 regular intervals a honking, with a view of opening communication 
 with his kind below. 
 
 But it was our intention to record the account of shooting a goose 
 this morning, but we have wandered off on a wild goose chase, entirely 
 ignoring our original purpose. We went out with our gun this morn- 
 ing fortunately, not for the purpose of shooting geese, but for the small 
 game. In noting the great number of wild geese flying, our eyes for- 
 tuitously fell upon two birds entirely distinct from the migrating geese 
 flying directly towards us at a rate of at least eighty miles an hour. 
 They were only about thirty or forty yards high and were coming in 
 a bee line. There was no time for reflection or reasoning upon what 
 were best to do. There was barely time to do it. Quicker than thought 
 our gun was at our shoulder, elevated about forty-five degrees with 
 such precarious aim (or no aim at all) as one takes on such occasions, 
 and fired. One of the birds fell. We are unable to say whether it 
 
 98 
 
was the front or hind bird, but he struck the ground dead about three 
 hundred feet beyond us. This bird was a goose, but of a variety en- 
 tirely unknown to us. A post-mortem, however, held on the body by 
 some of the oldest and astutest sporting neighbors pronounced it a 
 white goose {A user hyperboreus) of a variety much smaller than the 
 Canadensis wild goose and very rare in this country, but common in 
 Norway. 
 
 This is our story of shooting a goose which is a case of purely 
 accidental killing. 
 
 In the literature of the ancient world the domestic goose 
 occupies an important place. He was the sacred bird of many 
 peoples, and yet he was almost universally recognized as the 
 symbol of stupidity. He was despised by the Gauls and 
 Franks; ancestrally hated by the Italians; was the sacred bird 
 of the Egyptians, Ceylonese, Burmese and Chinese; was wor- 
 shipped by the Romans, who were very grateful to the goose, 
 and awarded to him an annual festival at the Capitol, for the 
 malntalnance of which a large sum was appropriated. Mother 
 Goose stories prevail in nearly all the nationalities of the earth. 
 
 The common wild goose of America, Anser Canadensis, 
 spends his winters In the gulfs, bays and estuaries of the Gulf 
 of Mexico, from the Rio Grande to Florida, and the entire sea- 
 coast, as well as the Inlands, of Florida. He leaves these 
 quarters In March and early April and journeys northward, not 
 In a solid body, but In detachments. The period of his de- 
 parture Is regulated very much by the season. When warm 
 weather comes on he takes wing. He Is not fond of extreme 
 cold, and his summers are spent on the coast of Maine, in the 
 Gulf of St. Lawrence, the Magdalene Islands, and the Labra- 
 dor coast; the latter absolutely swarm with them. He some- 
 times visits the Interior territory of the Hudson Bay Com- 
 pany In great numbers as far west as Manitoba. He remains 
 north during the summer or breeding season, and starts south- 
 ward In October. And In the early days, before the Innovation 
 of civilized man and gunpowder, the southern shore of Long 
 Island was a great breeding place of the wild goose. The 
 ducks, such as brant, mallards, canvasbacks and teal, are later 
 
 99 
 
in starting for their summer home than the goose, but many 
 of them arrive earlier; the goose loafs on the way. 
 
 Since this entry, which has been one of digressions, it mr.y 
 not be uninteresting to wander into the philological realm 
 for a moment. Here we find abundant interesting matter 
 concerning the name of the goose. The goose is known all 
 over the world and his history goes back into the dimmest an- 
 tiquity. In the Malay or Kawi tongue of the Malay Archi- 
 pelago, the sacred language of Bali, and from which we be- 
 lieve all other names of the goose were derived, it being the 
 most ancient language, he is known by the name of gangsa ; in 
 the Bali or Pali, closely allied to the Kawi, hanza; in the old 
 Aryan, hansa; in Ceylon, henza; in Egypt, Ahu-hanza^ or 
 sacred goose, the name being of Malay origin; by the Romans, 
 anser; in the Portuguese, ganso; by the Spaniards, ansar; by 
 the Germans, gans ; and by the English, gander. 
 
 These names by which the goose is known among the 
 different nations show its descent and probable origin. Our 
 goose is now up to the philologist for ethnological treatment. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the high encomiums bestowed upon 
 the goose by the ancients, the good people of the Town of 
 Hempstead voted him a nuisance, and legalized his assassina- 
 tion. 
 
 *Town Meeting, May 5, 1682. 
 
 "Att the foregoing townd Meeting it was concluded by 
 the Ma Jer Vote that No Teame Geese should have liberty 
 to goo on the commons. In the townd after the fift of Novem- 
 ber Next insuing and that it shall be lawful for any Person 
 to shute any they shall find on the commons aforementioned 
 after the time. Perfixed." 
 
 The above was re-enacted yearly. 
 
 Monday, April 20, 1840. 
 
 This day a native, Dave Leinad, accomplished the greatest fish- 
 ing feat ever accomplished on Long Island, i.e., the capture of a pure 
 American brook trout weighing four pounds, nine ounces. His entire 
 catch for the day was four trout. The aggregate weight was eleven 
 
 100 
 
pounds, four ounces. They were taken with a rod and line from the 
 stream, or creek, below the mill pond at Milburn. This marvelous 
 fish above named was the largest brook trout that we have ever seen — 
 probably the largest ever taken in these waters. It created quite a sen- 
 sation in the neighborhood when it became known. Many persons were 
 incredulous, but so many people saw the fish weighed that it is folly to 
 raise the question. 
 
 The above Is copied from an entry in the diary made at 
 the time. Upon this entry and our personal recollection rests 
 the good faith of the story of the big trout. As, however, it Is 
 not possible at this late day to produce any further verification^ 
 let us accept, or reject. It upon what we have. 
 
 It would, however, be a pleasing task to map out to the 
 reader, or to retrospect In words, the famous old trout stream 
 which has produced so many marvels. This stream lies en- 
 tirely within the Town of Hempstead and was born of the 
 glacial age. When, as a boy, we first knew It, It was sur- 
 rounded by a heavy forest, of which It Is now dismantled, and 
 also much changed by cultivation and the obliterating hand of 
 time. 
 
 The volume of water In this stream at the time when 
 we first knew it was certainly twice as great as at present. 
 
 We knew the little stream (for such It was, compared 
 to the great trout streams of Maine), every foot of It, and 
 loved It from its source to the ocean, a distance of about fif- 
 teen miles in Its devious course as it existed In our youth. 
 
 We have traversed it In spring when the sweet aroma of 
 the budding dog-wood, the music of birds and the censorious 
 croaking of frogs were side diversions. We have traversed It 
 In the heat of summer and have lingered in Its cool recesses, 
 shut out from the heat and glimmer of the sun by a dense over- 
 hanging foliage of bramble and vine. We have traversed Its 
 shrunken waters in the stillness of autumn. In the glory of 
 Indian Summer, of brown October, amid the rustle of falling 
 leaves, and found It even then full of grace and beauty, al- 
 though in the somber mantle of decay and death. 
 
 Like all other streams on the south side of Long Island, 
 
 101 
 
it had its origin in archaic times in the glacial hills which skirt 
 the northern edge of the Island. From this starting point it 
 has greatly receded. Within the memory of man, however, its 
 source was a small pond occupying a deep hollow in the bed 
 of the ancient glacial stream in the middle of the great plains. 
 At the period referred to it was fed, or supplied, from springs 
 and was empty during extremely dry seasons, while now it is 
 filled only in extremely wet ones. 
 
 From this point the infant stream pursued a southwester- 
 ly course in a depression worn by the ancient glacial current, 
 until it reached a point about one mile east from the Village of 
 Hempstead; thence its course was almost, or directly, south, 
 with but little crookedness, through a dense and heavily tim- 
 bered forest, about two miles to Turtle Hook, where it crossed 
 the Merrick Turnpike, and about one mile further south it 
 crossed the swamp road leading from the Main South Road 
 at Coe's Neck to Hempstead. The stream here was of sur- 
 passing beauty, about sixty feet wide, the current swift and 
 over a clean, pebbly bottom, and at ordinary times not over 
 five Inches deep; thousands of trout crossed these shallows 
 daily. Still pursuing its course southerly, skirting moderately 
 high ground on the west, and through a continuous swamp of 
 heavy timber, noted for the great beauty and variety of its 
 flora and fauna, its forest odors and bird notes, for there is 
 scarcely a bird known to the ornithology of upland birds of 
 the State of New York representatives of which could not be 
 found In these woods, — about three miles to the Milburn pond, 
 the stream sometimes flowing between banks scarcely five feet 
 apart and at others over a bed fifty feet wide. 
 
 It was an ideal trout brook, one upon which poets might 
 dwell with enthusiasm and word-play: 
 
 *'I chatter over stoney ways, 
 
 ''In little sharps and trebles, 
 
 "I bubble into eddying bays, 
 
 "And babble on the pebbles." 
 
 — Tennyson. 
 
 102 
 
At the end of the last named three miles it flowed into an 
 artificial lake or pond created in the early history of the town 
 for the purpose of making a power for a grist mill located at 
 Milburn, then called 'The Corners." The grant for this 
 pond was to John Pine. 
 
 To this point the stream was a continuous spawning bed 
 for trout and the pond itself, full of cold springs, was a pro- 
 lific breeding place. 
 
 Flowing through this lake nearly a mile, the waters of 
 the stream escape at the south end over a waste gate into the 
 creek below. This pond or lake in our boyhood days was the 
 temporary abode of great quantities of web-footed game. We 
 distinctly call to mind many varieties of ducks, and particular- 
 ly the hell diver (grebe), the latter of which we have cause to 
 remember with much mortification for the many abortive ef- 
 forts to slay them with an old-fashioned firearm. They were 
 too nimble for a flint-lock. 
 
 The grebe is destructive to the young trout, as is also the 
 duck, and the kingfisher destroys thousands; probably not 
 more than three per cent. of*the trout hatched naturally escape 
 all the varied enemies encountered and attain maturity. 
 
 Mr. Dunbar, an old man who lived in the woods near the 
 head of this pond, told us that there were two gigantic pep- 
 peridge trees in the swamp not far from his home in early 
 times, on which eagles built their nests for many successive 
 years, and that they fed their young entirely from the brook, 
 taking as many as twenty trout a day to their young. We 
 wonderfully suspect that Mr. Dunbar's eagles were simply fish 
 hawks, which, like the eagle, is a noble bird, and belongs to 
 the Falconidse. This bird was from twenty inches to two feet 
 in length with a vast spread of wing, reaching when fully ex- 
 tended over five feet. Pliny called it the *'Sea Eagle." 
 
 The fish hawk is strongly built and is of great flight, has 
 powerful talons for seizing and holding its prey, upon which 
 it depends entirely for food. It flies slowly over the water at 
 a height of from ten to twenty yards; when it sees a fish it 
 
 103 
 
drops Itself down and seizes Its game In Its talons. No natur- 
 alist or fisherman ever understood how the fish hawk managed 
 to get a living fishing with Its limited appliances, nor could he 
 were It not for the absolute stupidity of Its game. He cannot 
 swim, cannot dive, and he cannot take his game In his bill; he 
 is only calculated to take fish from just such shallows as those 
 described In our stream. Still he does sometimes take them 
 in open waters. 
 
 The pose of the fish hawk when sitting Is dignified and 
 haughty, and all Its movements are graceful. It Is migratory 
 and arrives In our latitude in the early part of March, and 
 leaves for Its more northern home and breeding place about the 
 first of May. This bird was much sought after by the In- 
 dians; Its quills and tail feathers were used by them to plume 
 their arrows and to ornament their calumet and adorn their 
 garments. 
 
 A few rods north from the head of the pond, near the 
 residence of Mr. Dunbar, and on the west of the stream, 
 nearly opposite the residence of Samuel Miller, on the Hick's 
 Neck road to Hempstead, in the tnlddle of this swamp, there 
 was within our recollection (1840) a piece of cleared upland 
 of about two acres. It at one period had divided the stream, 
 when It (the stream) was much larger. From its novel situa- 
 tion and surroundings and traditions it was a fascinating spot 
 to us. We visited it frequently and were enamored of its 
 natural beauty and solitude. It was surrounded by a wild and 
 almost Impenetrable tangle of swamp on three sides; on the 
 other was the stream. The ground still bore evidence of for-^ 
 mer cultivation. This Island, for such it was, was detachec 
 completely from the mainland by a dangerous morass on the! 
 west, the former bed of the stream. In this morass Thorne' 
 Bedell, a simple fellow, an old resident who lived within two 
 hundred yards of the spot, became entangled one dark night 
 and perished. This was late in the 30's. 
 
 Tradition says that in early times this island was ownedj 
 and occupied by two Indian families who lived by cultivating! 
 
 104 
 
the ground, trapping game, gathering nuts and berries and 
 following the bay. They were regarded as industrious and 
 respectable. During this period a feud existed between the 
 Indians of this vicinity and the Rockaway and Canarsie tribes. 
 Out of revenge for some real or imaginary outrage committed 
 upon the Rockaways or Canarsies by the Merlkos, a company 
 of the former stealthily gained access to the island in the 
 night, murdered the two families of Indians, men, women and 
 children, and burned their houses. This was regarded as a 
 most wanton and diabolical outrage, and the whites of the 
 neighborhood took up the matter with a determination of 
 punishing the perpetrators, and for that purpose organized a 
 small party of volunteers, armed themselves and marched to 
 Rockaway and Canarsie to arrest the culprits, but failed to 
 find them, the tribes denying all participation in the crime. 
 The volunteers, disclaiming Indian methods of visiting ven- 
 gence upon the whole tribe, returned without accomplishing 
 anything, but the outrage rankled in the bosoms of the people 
 for a long time, and Rockaway and Canarsie Indians were 
 afraid to enter the territory of the Merlkos unless in sufficient 
 numbers to defend themselves In case of an attack. An ac- 
 count of this tragedy was current In the neighborhood when 
 we were a boy, but we are unable to give even an approximate 
 date of the massacre, except the date of the Governor's per- 
 mit, allowing pay to those who might volunteer to go against 
 the Indians.* 
 
 At the time of our familiarity with the island the ground 
 was pretty generally covered with dwarf huckleberry shrubs 
 (Soponaria), but there was extant evidence of former culti- 
 vation, and the location of houses and remains of caches, the 
 
 ♦From liber A, page 114 of the town records of the Town of Hemp- 
 stead we copy the following: 
 
 The 3d of Oc't 1659. 
 Upon a message sent by ye Governor by Capt. Newton & Leut'nt Steclwell 
 it was granted that all Vollentiers that were desirous to goe under pay ag'st 
 ye Indians mighte have their liberty to goe out of this place. 
 Teste 
 
 JOHN JAMES. [8.S.] 
 
 8 105 
 
Indian method of preserving their potatoes and other vege- 
 tables during the winter. And the great number of shells about 
 the ground was an evidence that the occupants lived largely 
 upon molluscs from the bay. 
 
 The pond or lake heretofore referred to was about one 
 thousand feet wide and flooded a portion of the original 
 Tredwell estate. t After passing the waste gate on our way 
 to the ocean the stream and surroundings assumed an entirely 
 different character. The swamp and forest disappear, and 
 its course was then through meadow and marsh land beset with 
 reeds, mallow, calamus and cat-tails (typha), about two miles 
 as the crow flies to the Hempstead Bay, but instead of being 
 
 tFrom The South Side Observer. 1885. 
 A Notable Lawsuit. 
 
 The Court of Appeals has just decided a case of much interest to this 
 vicinity. As nearly as can be ascertained we give the history of the case. 
 
 In the year 1683 one John Tredwell was the owner of a large tract of 
 land lying at and about Milburn in this town. It contained about 2,000 acres 
 a part of which still remains in the Tredwell family to this day. Through this 
 property runs a stream of water which has caused the litigation. In 1686 the 
 people of the township granted to one John Pine the privilege of selecting a 
 stream of water for the purposes of erecting a grist mill to do the town's 
 grinding with restrictions not to select a stream where there was a mill located 
 or about to be erected. He was also granted five acres to set his mill upon. If 
 he failed to secure a stream within one year the grant became void. 
 
 Pine selected the stream at Milburn and built a dam, with the assistance 
 of John Tredwell on the Tredwell property which caused the formation of 
 a large pond. This grant has passed from one to another until some thirty 
 years ago it passed into the hands of Carman Smith. Mr. Smith then obtained 
 some sort of a deed of pond and pondage, and assumed control although his 
 claim was disputed by the Tredwells and the matter has lain dormant for 
 years. About four years ago Christopher Risley came to Milburn to reside at 
 the Tredwell homestead. After examining titles he decided that the Tredwells 
 owned the dam and the pondage around and all the privileges. He secured 
 from the Tredwells permission to go fishing on the pond. A war of words 
 ensued. Mr. Smith sued Mr. Risley for trespass in Justice court. Risley raised 
 the question of title and carried the case to the Supreme Court. Judge Gil- 
 bert decided in favor of Smith. Risley appealed to the General Term which 
 reversed Judge Gilbert's decision. The opinion written by Judge Barnard was 
 that the Tredwells owned the pond and pondage and all privileges and that 
 Smith must be governed by the original grant to Pine to do the town grinding 
 only. 
 
 Mr. Smith then carried the case to the Court of Appeals which again 
 decided against him confirming Judge Barnard's opinion at General Term. Thus 
 ended a tedious litigation by Mr. Smith losing all interest in the property which 
 he has held and controlled so long. 
 
 The pond has been taken by the City of Brooklyn for the purpose of 
 supplying the city with water. All other questions are to be settled between 
 the Tredwells and the City of Brooklyn. 
 
 106 
 
straight as the stream above the pond, its waters flow at least 
 three and a half miles to accomplish this two miles. This 
 creek was called Tredwell Creek in the early town records. 
 
 From the plain edge to the pond this stream flowed 
 through a continuous forest of heavy timber. But a new and 
 important factor is encountered here; the stream now becomes 
 subject to the force of the ebb and flow of the ocean, about 
 four miles distant, into which it flows. 
 
 Reverting again to the millpond or lake above mentioned, 
 created by the construction of a causeway or dam at its south- 
 erly end, the structure being at right angles to the stream and 
 extending from high ground at either extremity of the dam. 
 The dam was about twelve feet wide at the top, with a well- 
 graded walk for people on foot, and was in early times a 
 popular promenade. 
 
 When a boy, in the fall of about 1835, on a Saturday 
 night after dark, my mother required some things from the 
 store kept by James Frost at the Corners (Milburn). We 
 had a man, a farmhand called Jack. He was mentally slug- 
 gish, but was physically a perfect man. We were sent to the 
 store to do the shopping and Jack was to accompany us for 
 protection, it being after dark and we were afraid to go alone. 
 Frost's store was just on the west side of the pond, and we 
 were obliged to cross the dam. The dam was a dark, dismal 
 place at night, being studded with willow trees which entirely 
 overhung the pathway. After purchasing the goods and on 
 our way home Jack took into his head, as soon as we entered 
 upon the dam, the notion to run away from us, thinking it 
 would be funny, and he started at full speed, just at a point 
 where the dam was the highest and sloped on the south side 
 thirty feet or more to level ground. Jack struck a tree while 
 at full speed. The blow knocked him down and stunned him, 
 and he lost his hat. We felt about in the sand for the hat, but 
 could not find it, and we went home without it. Jack's bruises 
 were rubbed with liniment and he sent to bed. 
 
 Now it happened that on this same evening old Sam 
 
 107 
 
Gritman, an itinerant shoemaker, who had been at our house 
 at work all the week making up our winter supply of shoes, 
 had received his pay from my father for the week's work, 
 which did not exceed four or five dollars, left for home after 
 we (Jack and I) had left for the store. He had also to cross 
 the dam on his way home. 
 
 On the next morning, it being Sunday, Gritman came to 
 our house in a shattered nervous condition with the sad story 
 of having been waylaid by robbers on his way home on the 
 dam on Saturday night. They knocked him down and he 
 rolled over the bank, which probably saved his life, for he 
 escaped them. There were two of them. He heard them 
 talk and they felt around in the sand for him for some time, 
 but he lay still and they did not find him. In coming over Sun- 
 day morning to tell of his miraculous escape, he stopped to 
 inspect the place where the assault was made, and then he 
 found the hat of one of the would-be assassins, and produced 
 it. It was Jack's hat, and it told the whole story of the tree 
 and thieves. 
 
 Jack, instead of running into a tree as was supposed, ran 
 into old Gritman and bruised him badly, but not seriously. 
 
 To resume: English ichthyologists tell us there are no 
 trout in this country; the fish we call brook trout is no trout at 
 all, but simply the charr. We are satisfied with their nomen- 
 clature so long as they are pleased with it, but we have no dis- 
 position to re-baptize our radiant beauty known to us only as 
 brook trout, salvelinus fountenalis, with the meaningless and 
 emotionless name of charr; the name is not euphonious with 
 the character of the fish. 
 
 They say that the classification is based on anatomical dif- 
 ferences of structure and talk glibly of dorsal, pectoral, ventral 
 and caudal fins, dual dontiforms, microscopic scales, pylonic 
 appendages, etc., but they give away their whole case and prove 
 too much when they show that age changes and modifies all 
 these distinctions, and that species are extremely unstable and 
 variable, and their conclusions consequently worthless. 
 
 108 
 
The hero of the four-pound trout above named was an 
 expert fisherman, with a large experience, and he had studied 
 with marvelous success the habits of the creek trout (which is 
 only an intensified brook trout) and knew every hole in the 
 creek where they frequented, where they fed, on what they 
 fed and when they fed, and their sporting ground after feed- 
 ing. 
 
 The creek trout is a refractory creature and when in one 
 of his moods no amount of flirtation can woo him from his 
 dogged humor; it must wear off. 
 
 He is a voracious feeder, but very nervous, and will not 
 feed when the least affrighted. 
 
 Saturday, July 7, 1840. 
 
 Vacation this year will be spent at home. Have prepared myself 
 with reading matter, principally Natural History. I anticipate great 
 pleasure from Elements of Conchology, by E. I. Barrow, A.M., Dick's 
 Sideral Heavens, etc. 
 
 The Fourth of July was uneventful. Went to White Hill to see 
 boat race between Dr. Richard Udal's yacht of Babylon and Tom Ray- 
 nor's sloop. They sailed from White Hill to Fire Island Inlet. Ray- 
 nor was the winner. 
 
 109 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The Family Picnic— The Broom Factory. — Mr. Terry's Invention. — Testi- 
 monial TO Captain Raynor Rock Smith. — The Famous Horse Race. 
 
 Monday. July 20, 1840. 
 
 AVE just returned from our annual family picnic to the 
 beach, a custom observed by our family for many years 
 and many generations. As usual, had a delightful day 
 and some happy reunions. Uncle Oliver Ellsworth with 
 his family from New York accompanied us, and with 
 whom the novel excursion was a great treat, some of 
 whom will regret their indiscretion in going about with arms, feet and 
 necks exposed to the burning sun. Have had a charming day; every- 
 body happy, tired and sunburned. 
 
 Saturday/ August 15, 1840. 
 
 Uncle Daniel Smith, father and myself sailed from Bedell's Land- 
 ing on August tenth in the sloop "Ploughboy" for the west end of 
 Coney Island, the occasion being to witness experiments to be made with 
 the new Tredwell cannon, in which my father and uncle felt some in- 
 terest. 
 
 On the voyage we passed within hailing distance of the great 
 Rockaway Pavilion at Far Rockaway Beach, one of the largest summer 
 hotels in the country. The main building is 230 feet front, with wings 
 of 75 feet each, the piazza is 235 feet long and 20 feet wide. 
 
 After eleven hours' sailing with light winds, we rounded Coney 
 Island Point and anchored in Gravesend Bay near Coney Island. The 
 bay was filled with all kinds of craft. 
 
 We had never been so far from home before by water. We took 
 but little interest in the cannon and consequently spent our time in 
 roaming over the island. There were many people who came with 
 teams, following the edge of the surf on the strand, and some came on 
 foot from the east end of Coney Island, but more came in boats. 
 
 The beach was very interesting to us, the scenery of which was 
 novel and unsurpassed in beauty. The cannon was tested on the point 
 of the beach, the shooting directed toward the ocean. We did not see 
 the experiments with the gun, but believe they were eminently satis- 
 factory to the government officials under whose supervision the ex- 
 periments were conducted. My father and uncle were pleased with 
 the result. 
 
 Daniel Tredwell, the inventor of this great cannon, was 
 
 110 
 
born at Ipswich, Massachusetts, in 1791. In 1819 he in- 
 vented and put in operation the first power press ever con- 
 structed in the United States. It went into general use. In 
 1826 a turn-out for railroads. In 1829 devised a machine 
 for spinning hemp, adopted over the world. In 1835 a patent 
 process for making cannon, which was later adopted by Sir 
 William Armstrong and known as the Armstrong Gun. He 
 founded and edited the Boston Journal of Philosophy and 
 Arts, from 1834 to 1845 was Rumford Professor of Technol- 
 ogy in Harvard College. Invented a cannon of great calibre. 
 He was author of many works and of many inventions. He 
 died at Cambridge in 1872. 
 
 Wednesday, October 24, 1840. 
 
 Went to the sheep parting yesterday. It was remarkably similar 
 to that of last year described in this journal — in short, like all other 
 previous years. The same omnifarious multitude with similar purposes, 
 if not identically the same, the same grade of gamblers and toughs. 
 
 There was a decided improvement in the representatives of the 
 horse sporting crowd, and the racing on the Jericho Turnpike road was 
 considered more attractive. 
 
 There was a new and higher grade of politicians present. The 
 selling of the plains and marshes were dead local issues, the present 
 were national. In November next there is to be elected the ninth Pres- 
 ident of the United States. The candidates were long ago selected, 
 Martin Van Buren and William Henry Harrison, and the campaign 
 up to the present has been a vigorous and bitter one. The respective 
 merits and demerits of the two aspirants were ably and eloquently set 
 forth from their party platforms yesterday. 
 
 We have on a former occasion referred to the absence of all ac- 
 commodation at the sheep parting, nor was any expected. There were, 
 however, a limited number of reserved seats, consisting of the top rails 
 of the fence surrounding the sheep pens. Nothing on earth probably 
 as a resting place has less adaptiveness to ease and comfort than a rail 
 fence, and yet two out of every three countrymen, as a rostrum from 
 which to air their brains, select the fence. We have seen two of these 
 baronets of the soil engaged in a cow trade mounted on the sharp edge 
 of a chestnut rail when there were a dozen more comfortable and lowly 
 seats in sight. This habit is a survival of arborescent man. 
 
 In our itineraries around the grounds we espied a neighbor of ours, 
 James Wood, a respectable boss fisherman of Hick's Neck and a very 
 entertaining man. He always commanded an audience, and he was 
 always telling stories, and here he was perched upon the top rail of a 
 
 111 
 
panel of fence in his shirt sleeves (he weighed about 260 pounds avoir- 
 dupois), and holding forth to an admiring audience of Goths and Van- 
 dals, to whom he was relating a story of a miraculous draught of moss- 
 bunkers. 
 
 In the pen immediately behind Mr. Wood were four or five sheep, 
 including an old patriarch ram. From the time we entered upon the 
 scene our earliest glance at that old ram convinced us from his pose 
 that he was meditating mischief, i.e., had unpacific intentions. The vio- 
 lent gyrations of Mr. Wood's arms were a defiance and a challenge to 
 this Sultan of the Hempstead pampas. Mr. Wood's audience saw this 
 impending coup de grace, and they urged him on, anticipating fun. 
 Finally, with that peculiar ferocity and dash of the ovine family when 
 going into business, the old ram raised himself on his hind feet and 
 made a plunge straight for Mr. Wood's parts exposed over the fence, 
 and with the momentum of a pile-driver planted his two horns into 
 Mr. Wood's lumbral regions about ten inches below his gallus buttons. 
 The blow was terrific. Mr. Wood broke from his moorings and 
 landed ignobly in the rear part of a booth occupied by a vendor of a 
 newly invented device for peeling and slicing potatoes and coring apples. 
 Wood's friends crowded around him and with the strongest attestations 
 of sympathy got him on his feet. Mr. Wood was no fool. He said 
 nothing — he thought. As near as we could ascertain he had sustained 
 no damage above the shock, and the loss of his suspender buttons. 
 
 Sunday, November 8, 1840. 
 
 Yesterday ended the brief Indian Summer of this year, only four 
 typical days. Today ends in rain, snow and slush and getting colder. 
 
 Friday, December 4, 1840. 
 
 A great snowstorm now in progress, accompanied with a gale of 
 wind. 
 
 Sunday, December 6, 1840. 
 
 The snowstorm was one of the severest and most destructive ever 
 known in this part of the country, and it was of great extent ; the snow 
 is said to be one and a half feet deep in Philadelphia. It averages about 
 one foot here, but the storm closed here with rain. It was very dam- 
 aging to shipping along the coast. 
 
 A fishing crew from Hick's Neck, consisting of five men, had been 
 caught in the storm and had not been heard from for three days. Fears 
 were entertained for their safety, as it was known that they were not 
 provided with provisions for a prolonged siege. As soon, however, as 
 the weather had sufficiently cleared, the horizon was swept with a large 
 spy glass, when a signal of distress was discovered flying over the hut 
 at the Hummocks on Long Beach. This was either the missing crew 
 of fishermen, or shipwrecked sailors from the main beach. Immediately 
 provisions were made for rescue and a relief squad was organized under 
 
 112 
 
the direction of the wreck master, composed of Thomas Carman, Mor- 
 ton Homan, Richard Soper, Thomas Dunbar, Charles Johnson and Jim 
 Tom, to carry relief and rescue the sufferers, whoever they may be, 
 which resulted in bringing the fishermen to mainland, the weather still 
 being cold and boisterous. 
 
 It seems that they had lost their boat in the early stages of the 
 storm and had no means of relief unless from the mainland. They 
 reached the hut on Long Beach by fording the West Run at low water. 
 
 Monday, March 1, 1841. 
 
 Yesterday closed a long and uneventful winter. The old diary is 
 encumbered with entries of weather conditions, daily school incidents 
 and events of a purely personal character, none of which are of a suffi- 
 cient general interest to entitle them to be transcribed in this journal. 
 This is a bright day and there are promises of an early spring. 
 
 Saturday, April 10, 1841. 
 
 The broom factory on Coe's Neck is to close. During the past 
 two years Daniel Smith, Jr., of Coe's Neck has been experimenting upon 
 raising broom corn. He had erected an economical shop, or factory, 
 with small machinery for turning his own sticks and making brooms on 
 the place, and had also adopted means for placing his goods on the 
 market of Long Island. For the latter purpose he engaged two can- 
 vassers to visit all the country stores on Long Island. They each started 
 out with a two horse wagon load of manufactured brooms, consisting of 
 twelve hundred brooms, great and small, which they were to sell and 
 take orders. The enterprise up to the present time, Mr. Smith says, 
 has been a great success, but he regrets that he must give it up in order 
 to take charge of another part of his father's estate. 
 
 This is much to be regretted, for one reason, the success of the en- 
 terprise and its growth promised to give employment to quite a number 
 of young people along the whole line, from planting of the corn to the 
 completion and sale of the goods. No one has come forth prepared to 
 make terms for the continuation of the business. 
 
 It is to be regretted for another reason. It is a good thing to have 
 cheap brooms and plenty of them. We have heard the opinion expressed 
 that the number of brooms used in any community furnishes the surest 
 criterion from which to judge its moral advancement and progress, and 
 concerning the important part which the little insignificant instrument 
 sustains in regard to domestic comfort and neatness, the opinion may 
 be correct. According to this standard, the inhabitants of Coe's Neck 
 and thereabouts ought to be in the most advanced stages of moral de- 
 velopment. But according to the Justice Court record of Squire Ben 
 Smith, the culmination of matrimonial infelicities in broomstick as- 
 saults has increased two hundred per cent, since the factory was es- 
 tablished — owing, as the Squire suggests, to the ever presence of this 
 convenient weapon. 
 
 113 
 
Friday, September 10, 1841. 
 
 For a number of years past our apples had been taken to John I. 
 Lott's, down at Hick's Neck, to be made into cider. This year my 
 father had concluded to take them to George Smith's at Raynortown, 
 he having an improved press for the mash and a much larger mill, with 
 horse-power for grinding. My father thinks we will have about four 
 barrels for this season. 
 
 Less and less cider is being made on this part of Long Island every 
 year. Our orchard is getting old and no efforts are being made to re- 
 pair it by planting new trees. John L Lott formerly made a great 
 quantity of cider, but he is now very indiflFerent about it. He says it 
 does not pay. Since steam transportation has been introduced it can 
 be brought from a distance, where it is raised with less expense, and 
 the New York market can be supplied much cheaper than he can raise it. 
 
 Tuesday, October 5, 1841. 
 
 Night before last, Sunday, October 3rd, was a wild night on the 
 South Side. A storm broke upon us from the southeast and east with 
 strong wind and moderate temperature and rain on Saturday morning, 
 which increased in severity until Sunday night, when it became terrific 
 from the southeast; the tide rose two feet in our brook and covered the 
 bridge, part of which floated away. Uncle Daniel Smith's crib and 
 wagon house were unroofed and some of the shingles were found in our 
 garden, a number of houses and barns were blown down, chimneys de- 
 molished and trees uprooted. Our orchard was much damaged and 
 great quantities of fruit destroyed everywhere. 
 
 Old people say this was the fiercest storm ever known on this part 
 of the island, even more destructive than the epochal September gale of 
 1833. The waters of the ocean were blown three or four miles inland. 
 The grass, the leaves from the trees and buildings are encrusted with 
 salt, left after evaporation had carried off the water. 
 
 Much damage was done to the small craft of the south side of 
 Long Island, but we have heard of no great disaster of sea-going ves- 
 sels on the south beach, and probably there were none; the gradual 
 growth of the storm gave warning of its approach, with ample time to 
 escape, and again, it did not reach far out to sea. 
 
 P. S., Or/o^er— 1841. 
 
 The newspapers from the East are bringing in reports of the won- 
 derfully destructive storm in the Eastern States; the damage to the 
 shipping and loss of life along the coast were enormous. Vessels in port 
 broke from their moorings and were cast on shore. In the harbor of 
 Portland, Maine, several vessels were completely wrecked, and at Ports- 
 mouth, Cohasset, Cape Ann, Gloucester, Newburyport and Nantucket 
 great damage was done to shipping, and to the wharfs, vast quantities of 
 lumber were carried away and lives lost. 
 
 The greatest loss of life, however, was at Cape Cod. The beach 
 
 114 
 
from Chatham to the highlands was absolutely strewn with wreckage. 
 The effects of this disastrous storm are still being received ; already the 
 list of vessels lost numbers hundreds, and of lives lost, thousands. 
 
 No storm every known in the Eastern States was half so destruc- 
 tive. Long Island was marvelously favored. We have up to the pres- 
 ent heard of no loss of life, and the wreck of only a few coasters and 
 small craft. 
 
 In the New England reports the gale is described as coming from 
 the north northeast, while on Long Island it was from the southeast. 
 
 Sunday, October 10, 1841. 
 
 Reports continue to be received by the papers showing that the 
 above destructive storm was more widespread and more ruinous than 
 early reports show. It w^as a storm long to be remembered by Long 
 Islanders ; to the New Englanders it was phenomenal. 
 
 Tuesday, October 12, 1841. 
 
 It is reported that this storm effected great changes at New Inlet. 
 The channel of the inlet is said to have moved westerly several hundred 
 feet, and that large bar of many acres has formed inside. Similar changes 
 are constantly taking place along the south coast of Long Island, but it 
 is seldom one storm works so great innovation as this one. 
 
 Saturday, November 6, 1841. 
 
 Our oldest people tell us that up to the present this has been the 
 harshest, most Inclement and blustering fall ever known, and It Is losing 
 none of Its reputation today. 
 
 It began snowing this morning with a high northeast wind and It 
 has alternately snowed and rained all day. The storm is as full of vigor 
 as an adult snowstorm of February. This is our Indian Summer season, 
 but for the two past years It has had a brief duration. 
 
 Wednesday, November 10, 1841. 
 
 Mr. Daniel Terry, a millwright, a neighbor of our family, lives 
 at Frost's Corners and is the miller at that place. He is a very in- 
 genious man and has been engaged many years on a most wonderful 
 machine which Is to run forever, a perpetual motion. The people in the 
 neighborhood talk about It; nobody has ever seen It. The shop in which 
 Mr. Terry keeps It and works upon it is in an upper story of his mill 
 and kept always locked. 
 
 Today we were permitted to see the wonderful machine, and it 
 is wonderful. It is elegantly made, that is, the mechanism, the finish, 
 but we don't believe It will run, and still we think Mr. Terry ought 
 to know what he is about. 
 
 The machine consists of an overshot water-wheel with self-adjust- 
 ing buckets. The water which furnishes the power is raised by an 
 Archlmedian screw and after being run over the wheel is deposited in 
 the reservoir below, from which the screw again raises it. The machine 
 
 115 
 
is expected to run by the gravity of the faUing water which the machine 
 pumps up; the water is used over and over again. By a very ingenious 
 device the loaded buckets go down at arm's length and on returning 
 discharged on the other, the arms fall in close to the central shaft so 
 that the lifting force is greatly decreased in the up-coming buckets, 
 nearly nil. As soon as the buckets have passed the centre, on top, they 
 drop out at arm's length again and are prepared to receive their freight, 
 which carries them down with great force. There were six buckets 
 going down loaded at the same time and ten empty ones coming up. 
 Now, in order to keep the machine going there must be a constant sup- 
 ply of water to fill the down-going buckets. The water for this pur- 
 pose was drawn up by the screw before named. The power which 
 raised the water was furnished by the down-going buckets. Here lies 
 the great solecism overlooked by Mr. Terry, for strip the machine of 
 all its redundance, cancel both sides of the equation to its simplest form, 
 and we have x=^x-\-y, that is, to raise the water will require all the 
 power generated by the gravity of the same water, plus y, the friction. 
 
 It is a very complicated piece of machinery, and although Mr. Terry 
 did not charge it and set it in operation in our presence for reasons 
 which were quite obvious, the machinery was not prepared for it; yet 
 he explained it so clearly that we began to think it would run, but it 
 won't. It is self-evidently impossible. We did not tell Mr. Terry so. 
 He was very kind to permit us to see the machine when so many were 
 anxious to get a glimpse of it. (His reason was that he thought we 
 were a bright boy.) Many people in the neighborhood believe that Mr. 
 Terry will some day startle the world with his great invention. But 
 we do not. Of Mr. Terry's mill, every part, from the water-wheel to 
 the bolting bin, was made by him, or under his immediate direction; 
 every cog-wheel in the mill, concentric or eccentric, was made of wood. 
 There was not an iron cog-wheel in it. 
 
 Perpetual motion, as applied here, is a machine to be 
 moved by a power furnished within itself and not from any 
 source outside of it, and continues without ceasing and without 
 any renewed application of force. It is no part of the requisi- 
 tion concerning perpetual motion that the machinery should 
 never get out of repair. What is looked for is not perfection 
 in the construction of the apparatus, but an unfailing moving 
 force. 
 
 From the day of our visit to Mr. Terry's and for a long 
 period onwards our head was full of perpetual motion ma- 
 chines, and in our imagination we constructed hundreds of 
 them with one result : the resistance to overcome and the power 
 
 116 
 
to overcome It (so to speak) were always equal, and the thing 
 stood still. But why did not the clear head of Mr. Terry see 
 this? Because his head was not clear; he had great mental 
 activity without sound principles to control it, and he was a 
 better theoretical machinist than practical engineer. He was 
 endeavoring to raise himself over the fence by the straps of 
 his boots. 
 
 Mr. Terry reasoned that so long as the example was 
 before him of a man raising himself by a tackle and fall with- 
 out any outward application of power, just so long would he 
 entertain hopes of eventually accomplishing a machine that 
 would do the same thing. This is where Mr. Terry's reason- 
 ing is at fault; he has left out one important factor — caloric. 
 
 Mr. Terry, however, was not a unique dispenser of faulty 
 logic on the subject; the victims of the fallacy of perpetual 
 motion are multitudinous and date from an early period in the 
 history of mechanism. The beginning of statistics of the 
 eighteenth century is full of them. There were fewer in the 
 nineteenth century and they are not all dead yet, many prob- 
 ably not so far gone but they may be saved. 
 
 From 1860 to 1869 there were eighty-six English, twenty- 
 three French and thirteen American patents taken out for 
 perpetual motion. 
 
 But on the whole, the pursuit of perpetual motion may 
 have been a benefit to the world at large ; many important dis- 
 coveries in mechanics have been worked out just as the falla- 
 ciousness of perpetual motion was discovered. The sewing 
 machine, the typewriter and the bicycle all carry improvements 
 made by the perpetual motion crank. This mechanical sole- 
 cism, however, has its parallels in the intellectual world, as 
 Judicial Astrology, the Philosopher's Stone, the Quadrature 
 of the Circle, the Multiplication of the Cube, and the Elixir 
 of Life. These have all had, and ruined, their victims by 
 tens of thousands. Nearly one hundred years ago the Aca- 
 demic Royal des Sciences at Paris passed a resolution that they 
 would no longer entertain communications about discoveries 
 
 117 
 
of perpetual motion, and the reasons given were at some length 
 and may be summed up: "The thing can't be did." 
 
 One of the most novel expositions that could be offered 
 to the public of mechanical proneness would be a collection of 
 machines constructed for perpetual motion. It would be an 
 exhibition of the utterest stillness, and deadest immobility, a 
 show of labyrinthian structures to run eternally, all absolutely 
 motionless. 
 
 Mr. Terry was not only not alone in his mental halluci- 
 nations, millions of dollars have been expended in the hope- 
 less experiment of perpetual motion. Thousands of the acutest 
 minds the world has ever produced have logically demonstrated 
 the feasibility of all this. Yet, as a product of human inge- 
 nuity not even the remotest approximation to success has been 
 experimentally accomplished, for while it may be logically true, 
 it is experimentally false. We may reason about it, speculate 
 objectively and subjectively about it, for imaginary things are 
 as capable of being represented in thought as real ones. And 
 we may also predicate of it from certain premise that when once 
 put in motion it will continue forever. And notwithstanding 
 all this, the moment we apply the empirical method, or what is 
 actually known about it, it declines to ratify our abstractions in 
 refusing to go after exhausting the force which first set it in 
 motion. 
 
 I have examined hundreds of these elegant specimens of 
 mechanism, ingenious contrivances, every one of which is a 
 mechanical syllogism with a defective major premise. And 
 hundreds of men who fancied they had made great physical 
 discoveries have come to their senses by discovering that they 
 have committed great mechanical blunders. 
 
 Mr. Terry was the projector of many very important 
 improvements in mill machinery. He was always at work on 
 something new. As early as 1839 he had a boat about four- 
 teen feet long in the mill pond to which he had attached a novel 
 motor power. On the outside of the boat he had rigged a 
 screw (Archimedian screw) about five feet long and attached 
 
 118 
 
to each side of the boat under water. The screw was con- 
 structed of an iron rod or tube about ^ve feet long and a 
 strip of sheet iron about five inches wide, twisted spirally 
 around it, making a screw. This iron rod communicated with 
 machinery on the inside of the boat by an endless chain. The 
 whole was set in motion by a crank. We think this was a 
 great success, but we do not remember of ever having heard 
 more about it. The boat moved with ease and with great 
 rapidity, and was a great curiosity in the pond for a long 
 time, and unless there is more to be learned adversely upon 
 this question, we think Mr. Terry should be accredited with 
 having discovered and first applied successfully the screw for 
 the propulsion of boats, or vessels. Captain John Ericssen 
 made a successful application of the screw in 1844-1847 to 
 the "Rattler," a vessel built in the United States. But I be- 
 lieve Mr. Terry was the real discoverer of the screw pro- 
 peller. 
 
 Up to 1855 the screw had not been adopted for men-of- 
 war. The French were constructing two or three experimental 
 vessels. Great interest was excited on this subject both here 
 and in Europe. The ablest naval constructors and engineers 
 had determined that it would be impossible to obtain more 
 than ten knots an hour as an extreme figure, under which cir- 
 cumstances the propeller would be of very problematical util- 
 ity. And the "Austerlitz," then being equipped as a propeller 
 at Rochefort, it was hoped would be enabled to compass four 
 or five knots an hour under steam. 
 
 The history of the manifold improvements and develop- 
 ment of the screw as a propeller is not within our province, 
 but it has undoubtedly revolutionized the entire method in 
 maritime science, with the limit not yet reached, nor the ulti- 
 mate in view. 
 
 Monday J January 10, 1842. 
 
 We called upon Raynor Rock Smith of Raynortown to have him 
 verify to us some straggling facts which our memory imperfectly re- 
 
 119 
 
tafned concerning a testimonial presented to him by the citizens of New 
 York on an occasion, the facts of which are as follows: 
 
 On January 2, 1837, the barque "Mexico," 300 tons burden, came 
 ashore at Long Beach. She had on board one hundred and twelve 
 passengers and a crew of eighteen, all of whom perished in the wreck 
 save eight. No relation of the details of that sad, sad story will be 
 recounted here; they are matters of history. Our purpose is the pre- 
 servation of a subsequent event bearing upon, or a sequence to, the 
 great calamity, which event reflected with much credit and honor upon 
 a neighbor, the most modest and unassuming man that ever lived. The 
 unparalleled heroism displayed by Raynor Rock in his efEorts to save 
 the lives of the unfortunate passengers and crew of the barque "Mexico" 
 at the risk of his own life. He, commanding one of the bravest crews 
 that ever manned a surf boat, will be immortalized in the history and 
 records of the great disasters of the Long Island coast. 
 
 No shipwreck and suffering that ever happened on the south shores 
 of Long Island has made such a deep and lasting impression upon the 
 sympathies of the native population of Hempstead South as did this 
 disaster to the passengers and crew of the "Mexico." The sorrow 
 was sincere and universal. 
 
 We remember the event of the wreck of the "Mexico" and "Bris- 
 tol" with great distinctness. We remember seeing the bodies of the 
 drowned and frozen brought from the beach in sleds and placed in rows 
 in John Lott's barn for the identification of friends and relatives. We 
 remember the funeral, consisting of fifty-two farm wagons carrying the 
 jboxes containing the bodies of the unclaimed dead. It was a sad sight. 
 
 Everybody here knows Raynor Rock Smith and all are familiar 
 with the many brave and noble acts in the service of humanity accredited 
 to him. But in his superhuman efforts on behalf of the passengers and 
 crew of the ill-fated "Mexico" his fame reached beyond his immediate 
 neighborhood; his efforts affected the state and the nation. Citizens of 
 New York City saw this, and hence this public recognition. 
 
 On the 25th of March, 1837, less than three months after the 
 "Mexico" calamity and less than two months after the entombment 
 of the victims at Rockville Centre, a committee of gentlemen from the 
 City of New York, composed of William J. Hawes, Joseph Meeks, 
 John Horspool, Lawrence Ackerman, William Kellogg and Benjamin 
 Ringold, met Raynor Rock and his friends by appointment at the hotel 
 of Oliver Conklin in Hempstead for the purpose of presenting him, 
 Raynor Rock, with a token of regard (a silver tankard) in commemora- 
 tion of his services to humanity. 
 
 At four o'clock in the afternoon the committee from New York 
 arrived, and the presentation took place in the hall of the hotel in pres- 
 ence of a large audience of New Yorkers, South Siders and many vil- 
 lagers. 
 
 While awaiting the arrival of the committee and at the personal 
 
 120 
 
request of a friend of Captain Nathan Holdridge and the audience, Mr. 
 Smith recounted in detail the rescue of Captain Holdridge from death. 
 The story was intensely interesting, rehearsing minutely all that tran- 
 spired for over half an hour while he struggled alternately in a tem- 
 pestuous surf for his own life and in keeping the unconscious captain 
 from drowning, and finally getting him on the beach and in working all 
 night to revive him. It was a plain, simple story of self-devotion to 
 an unfortunate human being, told without adornment, flowing with the 
 enthusiasm and eloquence of nature. This was long prior to the wreck 
 of the "Mexico." 
 
 On the arrival of the committee the meeting was called to order 
 and organized by the appointment of John Simonson to the chair. The 
 object of the call was read, when William J. Hawes delivered the fol- 
 lowing address in presenting the cup: 
 
 ''Mr. Chairman, Citizens of Hempstead," and turning to Raynor 
 Smith, said: 
 
 "We are a committee appointed by the citizens of the Fifth Ward 
 "of the City of New York to discharge the difficult task of expressing 
 "to you their admiration of your chivalrous attempt to rescue the pas- 
 "sengers and crew of the barque 'Mexico,* lately stranded on the adja- 
 "cent beach, and to ask your acceptance of a trifling token of their re- 
 "gard for your intrepidity. 
 
 "You, sir, cannot have forgotten the terrors of that distressed 
 "wreck, nor is it possible for us not to remember how nobly you and 
 "your gallant associates adorned humanity in your life struggle with 
 "the elements, and how well you redeemed our coast from the ignominy 
 "of inhospitality. 
 
 "Having awaited in vain for the recognition of your services in a 
 "more general and distinguished manner, we have felt that we owe it to 
 "our city, to the credit of our state and country, so far as in our power 
 "lies, to express to you the sentiments we entertain of your perilous ad- 
 "venture. We cannot forget the morning of that eventful day, when the 
 "weary 'Mexico,' with an insufficient and mutinous crew, doomed to 
 "avoidable destruction, poured out her signal gun of distress among 
 "the breakers of Long Island; when mothers and sisters and rough 
 "sailors stretched imploring hands to the shore and screamed unavailing 
 "prayers to Him who rules the storm; when, as if to turn into mockery 
 "the attempt to save the predestined ship, violence was given to the 
 "winds and fury to the waves, and builded between the vessel and the 
 "shore a wall of floating ice, which scarce even hope itself could strug- 
 "gle to surmount. 
 
 "Who that saw the scene — the lingering death of a hundred mar- 
 "tyrs to cold and hunger and hope disappointed, freezing in the sight 
 "of comfortable hearths, starving in the view of abundance, despairing 
 "in the midst of promise! I cannot attempt to paint a description of 
 "that day and night of horror! It was amid the terrors of such a 
 
 Q 121 
 
"scene, when the boldest and skilfullest stood upon the beach in doubt 
 "and dismay and awe, that in risking everything but honor and the 
 "plaudits of the humane, your sole adventurous skifE struggled through 
 "the resisting ice and climbed the overwhelming mountains of surf, and 
 "sought to bring salvation to the perishing wretches, who ought to have 
 "expected you rather as a fellow sufferer than a saviour. What heaven 
 "denied to their prayers it seemed willing to grant to your courage. 
 "Eight souls live to pray for the future reward of your exertions. The 
 "rest cold death claimed for his portion. 
 
 "The city knows the fact, the commercial and Christian world 
 "knows the fact, and the press the length and breadth of the country 
 "have heralded your heroism and hazardous endeavors. We propose 
 "a simple but more tangible and lasting testimonial that you and your 
 "children may contemplate with pride. Such conduct has in other 
 "countries gained for less daring heroes the reward of civic crowns and 
 "national honors. He who saved the life of a Roman was honored with 
 *^SL seat next to the Senate, and public assemblies, when he entered, rose 
 "to do him reverence. These rewards we cannot give you. But such 
 "as your fellow countrymen can give, of gratitude to one who has ren- 
 "dered honor to the state, such we bestow. These we yield, these we 
 "bring in tribute, that your children and the children of your brave 
 "boys may not complain that Americans cannot appreciate acts of de- 
 "votion and danger, and that your distant posterity may have preserved 
 "among them a glorious example of their ancestor. We have caused a 
 "skilful artist to engrave upon silver a faint sketch of your achievement. 
 "Upon this cup, which I now tender to your acceptance, is embossed the 
 "story of the ill-fated 'Mexico' and the glory of Raynor Rock Smith. 
 "It is but a sketch, for the labors of the artist, however successful, can 
 "initiate only the prominent features of the scene. ... In tender- 
 "ing to you, sir, this token of our regard, we do not expect greatly to 
 "add to your honor, nor to increase the esteem in which you must be 
 "held by every man who appreciates virtuous heroism. It is perhaps 
 "more as a relief to our own hearts than as a sufficient tribute to your 
 "merits that we bring our offering. Justice to ourselves requires us, 
 "nevertheless, to say it is not a mere impulse, not an emotion springing 
 "from the first impression produced by the performance of a good ac- 
 "tion, that has prompted this expression of our feelings. The memorial 
 "has been considered. The worthiness of your conduct has been 
 "weighed. It is from deliberate justice, as well as from glowing ad- 
 "miration, that our tribute springs. . . . 
 
 "Permit me now, in conclusion, to express the gratification which 
 "I personally feel in being the organ of expression of the sentiments 
 "of our constituents. None can know better than I know how well the 
 "tribute is bestowed. I have had the enjoyment of your acquaintance 
 "for many years and have witnessed more than one instance of your 
 "skill and courage. I have partaken of your hospitality in the islands of 
 
 122 
 
"the sea and have had good occasion to commend the staunchness of 
 "your surf boat. But there lives another worthy citizen who will com- 
 "mend more than I know how to do the intrepidity which is the theme 
 "of our present praise. Years since, at the imminent peril of your own 
 "life, you rescued Captain Nathan Holdridge from the surf and re- 
 "called him from the jaws of death back to grateful life. For him and 
 "for all the other lives you have saved to the republic, we thank you. 
 "And we pray that your valuable life may long be spared, if not to act 
 "in future cases of distress, to teach and encourage your sons and 
 "grandsons how to earn esteem on earth and a worthy welcome into 
 "heaven." 
 
 To which Mr. Smith replied: 
 "Gentlemen : 
 
 "I thank you, I sincerely thank you for your gift. In return for it 
 "I can only say that should a similar wreck, or any other wreck, ever 
 "again occur on our shores, I shall endeavor to show that I deserve it. 
 "I shall preserve your gift. I shall value it above all price. It shall 
 "remain with me while I live, and when I die it shall not go out of my 
 "family, if I can help it." 
 
 A simple entertainment was then had prepared by the friends of 
 Mr. Smith, in which only about thirty participated. This highly com- 
 mendable act of private citizens in recognition of the humane and heroic 
 act of Raynor Rock Smith had a salutary effect upon the community 
 and led to the incorporation of the "Life Saving Benevolent Associa- 
 tion." This society has been of incalculable service in life saving on the 
 •south shores of Long Island, not that it has increased the number of 
 those heroic and humane people who have always been ready to hazard 
 their own lives to relieve distress, but that such acts were through this 
 Association given to the public. One noted case of many is that of Pat- 
 rick T. Gould, who received a gold medal from that Association for 
 courage and humanity in saving the lives of the crew of the brig "Flying 
 Cloud," wrecked at East Hampton, Long Island. 
 
 We must forego the pleasure of recording many notable instances 
 of life saving which, besides courage, displayed a vast knowledge of how 
 to act in the face of a heavy surf on the Long Island coast. 
 
 Tuesday. May 10, 1842. 
 
 Having a leave of absence today, we attended the great contest be- 
 tween "Fashion" and "Boston," two horses reared under methods re- 
 spectively Northern and Southern. 
 
 It was never our fortune to see so many people gathered on any one 
 occasion as were massed at the Union Race Course, Long Island, today. 
 This great event was the outcome of a challenge from Colonel William 
 R. Johnson, a Southern man, a Nestor of the sporting world of Amer- 
 ica, to James Long, of Washington, to run his mare, "Fashion," four- 
 mile heats, best two in three, against the latter's horse, "Boston," for 
 
 123 
 
forty thousand dollars, twenty thousand a side, to be run on the Union 
 Course, Long Island. 
 
 The number of spectators who witnessed this great trial of speed 
 was estimated at between fifty and sixty thousand, gathered from all 
 parts of the United States. 
 
 The day was all that could be desired, and the track in good con- 
 dition. All efforts to describe the enthusiasm of the partisans in this 
 great contest would be absolutely useless. 
 
 The race was won by Johnson's mare, "Fashion." Time, first 
 heat, 7 minutes, 31^ seconds; second heat, 7 minutes, 45 seconds. 
 
 This was the second great race between the North and South, a 
 former having taken place in 1823. 
 
 There had been much contention between Northern and Southern 
 breeders in bringing up and training blooded horses for best results. 
 These sectional experts differed on many points, and hence this great 
 meeting. 
 
 The amount of money which changed owners on this day at the 
 Union Track and other places consequent upon this contest must have 
 been enormous. It ran probably up into hundreds of thousands. It 
 was also a harvest for the land-sharks; some of the most enterprising 
 of the light-fingered professionals may retire on the earnings of this 
 day. They operated in gangs and on lines entirely circumventing the 
 efforts of the constabulary of Queens County. 
 
 Thursday, May 12, 1842. 
 
 The people of the Town of Hempstead have been greatly exercised 
 over a proposed canal, extending from deep water on the Hempstead 
 Bay to Milburn. The subject has been much discussed and the Gov- 
 ernment has made preliminary surveys from the head of Long Creek 
 to the Milburn corners. An enterprise of this character would vastly 
 improve the commerce of the town and build up an important business 
 center at Milburn. 
 
 124 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Crows. — The Millerite Camp-Meeting. 
 Sunday, May 15, 1842. 
 
 |E are taking these notes from the open door of the second 
 story of the wagon-house, while watching the movements 
 of a flock of crows. About one hundred and fifty yards 
 from the house a crow is perched upon the summit of a 
 locust tree, on the highest dry branch. His pose is ma- 
 jestic. His companions, seven in number, are upon the 
 ground. That this one crow is placed there as a sentinel to give warn- 
 ing of approaching danger there can be no reasonable doubt. A man 
 crossing an adjoining field four hundred yards away was deemed sus- 
 picious and the "ka-ka" comes from the top of the locust. In an instant 
 the crows are on the wing; they settle in a near woods, and in a few 
 moments the danger seemed to have passed, they return and the sen- 
 tinel again takes his station, and the crows resume their meal. 
 
 That sentinel crow has watched us scrutinizingly as we have him, 
 and taken as copious notes, but so long as we remain up in the wagon- 
 house he will not become suspicious of us. 
 
 The movement of these crows is an interesting study, and we 
 watched them until they had gleaned their breakfast on the stubble and 
 cornfield and flew away. Nothing gathered from this interview would 
 go to change our long established conviction that the crow is a criminal, 
 and he knows it. Man is his enemy, and he knows it. A crow don't 
 loaf around a cornfield with a picket guard for fun, nor for exercise. 
 The vacant corn hills when the young sprouts begin to appear attest to 
 his thrift, but he is wily; he takes a minimum number of chances, and 
 those are when his wit fails. He does not know the significance of a 
 piece of bright tin fluttering from the end of a pole in a cornfield, and 
 he gives it a wide berth. He has familiarized himself with the straw 
 effigy of a man set up in a cornfield. He knows the difference between 
 the stick the man holds and a real gun, and he commits his depredations 
 under the very shadow of it. The man image is a physical fraud and he 
 has demonstrated it, but the fluttering tin is metaphysical ; his logic will 
 not explain it ; therefore he avoids it. 
 
 The crow is a philosopher and a logician. The depth of his philos- 
 ophy or the soundness of his logic we need not here go into; it is suffi- 
 cient to preserve to him a whole skin. He is a sound reasoner so far 
 as applicable to his personal safety. If you betray the least interest in 
 him he construes it into intended mischief. He will sometimes permit 
 you to approach near him, providing you appear indifferent to him, but 
 
 125 
 
the moment you betray the least interest in him he becomes suspicious 
 and seeks safety in flight. 
 
 Tuesday, June 7, 1842. 
 
 The apology for retaining the following in the journal is that 
 some of the events connect the famous criminal with Hempstead : 
 
 Colonel Monroe Edwards, otherwise I. P. Caldwell, under which 
 title he operated, was brought to trial in the City of New York before 
 presiding Judge William Kent, Aldermen Hall and Hatfield, for forgery 
 and other frauds. His operations involved an amount exceeding 
 $160,000. 
 
 Monroe Edwards had formerly been a prominent figure during the 
 summer season in the Village of Hempstead, and was highly respected 
 there for his social and charitable qualities. He entertained a great 
 affection for sport in the South Bay; hence the great interest taken in 
 the trial by Hempstead people who knew him personally. Many at- 
 tended through the entire trial, which lasted eight days. 
 
 We attended with my Uncle Oliver Ellsworth, who was attracted 
 there by the great men engaged in the case, and he believed that Ed- 
 wards was the subject of a conspiracy. 
 
 The fraud committed by Edwards consisted in forging checks and 
 commercial paper, in which he displayed a consummate knowledge 
 and adroitness, far transcending that of the ordinary criminal, embrac- 
 ing a labyrinthian field of false and forged correspondence. 
 
 In social life Edwards was a man of extraordinary attractiveness, 
 of faultless personal address, and all who knew him personally believed 
 in his innocence to the last. 
 
 A great amount of legal talent was arrayed on this trial. For the 
 prosecution were James R. Whitney, District Attorney, assisted by Hon. 
 Ogden Hoffman, and for the defense Hon. J. J. Crittenden, U. S. 
 Senator, Hon. Thomas F. Marshall, I. Prescott Hall, Robert M. Em- 
 mett, William M. Price and William M. Evarts. Up to this period of 
 our history, in the following respects — the amount involved — the high 
 status of the court — the legal talent on both the prosecution and the 
 defense, and the social standing of the defendant — this was the most 
 extraordinary criminal trial ever had, or probably ever will be had in 
 this state; such a combination is not likely to ever occur again in any 
 single trial. 
 
 Those who witnessed the trial have pronounced it one of the most 
 consummate exhibitions of legal sparring ever known, and the eloquence 
 of the summing up will never be forgotten by those present. 
 
 The trial occupied eight days. The appeals to the jury 
 were masterpieces of the highest order. Edwards, however, 
 was found guilty, convicted, and died in State prison. There 
 was a pamphlet published of this trial, which (trial) was re- 
 
 126 
 
markable for the dignified manner in which a desperate case 
 was handled. 
 
 Mrs. Chapman Coleman, daughter of John J. Critten- 
 den, in her life of her father says: "In 1868, I was in Wash- 
 ington and was introduced to Mr. Evarts, then Attorney-Gen- 
 eral of the United States. I was introduced as the daughter of 
 John J. Crittenden, and I received from Mr. Evarts a cordial 
 grasp of the hand and a touching allusion to my father's pub- 
 lic character and private worth. I told him that I was collect- 
 ing materials for the life of Mr. Crittenden and asked his as- 
 sistance. This he readily promised. Mr. Evarts at that time 
 told me this anecdote: 
 
 " 'At the very outset of my professional career, I was 
 associated with Mr. Crittenden as counsel in the famous trial 
 of Monroe Edwards for forgery. (Monroe Edwards was a 
 Kentuckian. His parents lived in Logan County, where he 
 was born and where Mr. Crittenden commenced the practice 
 of law. Mr. Edwards' family were among Mr. Crittenden's 
 most intimate friends, and Monroe had been, in boyhood, one 
 of his special favorites. Mr. Crittenden came forward to ex- 
 ert his best abilities in the service of his old friend.) 
 
 " 'Mrs. Coleman,' said Mr. Evarts, 'I shall never forget 
 that trial in connection with your father. I was a young man 
 on the threshold of my professional career, and your father's 
 reputation was firmly and widely established as a lawyer and 
 a statesman. His cordial manner during the trial is most 
 gratefully remembered by me, and at its close he asked me to 
 take a walk with him. During that walk he took a slight re- 
 view of the trial, complimented me upon my course during 
 its progress and the ability he was pleased to think I had 
 manifested, and in conclusion, grasping my hand with warmth, 
 he said: "Allow me to congratulate and encourage you on 
 the course of life you have adopted. I assure you that the 
 highest honors of the profession are within your grasp, and 
 with perseverance you may expect to attain them." Those 
 words from Mr. Crittenden would have gratified the pride of 
 
 127 
 
any young lawyer and given him new strength for the strug- 
 gle of his profession. I can truly say that these words have 
 been of the greatest value to me through life.' " 
 
 Sunday, July 10, 1842. 
 
 Today is the ninth consecutive day in which we have had rain. 
 We don't remember so long a spell of rainy weather; our enduring 
 storms are usually from the south, but during the last nine days we 
 have had but little southerly wind. Reports from the northern and 
 western parts of the state bring accounts of similar weather. V^ast 
 quantities of hay have been ruined, having been cut and no weather to 
 cure it and get it in. A famine for our stock is prophesied therefore 
 next winter. 
 
 Tuesday, July 26, 1842. 
 
 Went yesterday on our annual family picnic to Long Beach. We 
 were conveyed from the landing in the small boats of Daniel Smith, 
 Samuel Tredwell and Daniel Tredwell to the head of Long Creek, 
 where we embarked on a large sloop belonging to Daniel Smith. The 
 company consisted of the families of Thomas Tredwell, John Tred- 
 well, Daniel Tredwell, Samuel Tredwell, Benjamin Tredwell, Daniel 
 Smith and Lester Bedell, consisting of fifty-one persons, representing 
 three generations. We sailed down Long Creek to the beach, where we 
 arrived at 9.30 o'clock and moored the sloop in deep water close to the 
 })ank, where we could walk to the shore on a gangplank. We roamed 
 over the beach, bathed in the surf and swam in the still water. Some 
 of our party gathered clams for a clambake. Everybody was enjoying 
 himself generally. Dinner, which had been provided by each family, 
 was served in common on the deck of the sloop under shelter of the 
 mainsail spread over the deck as an awning. The dinner was the great 
 feature of the day. All kinds of good things had been prepared and 
 everybody had a good appetite. Cheer after cheer went up as dish after 
 dish of chicken salad and pan after pan of baked beans were brought 
 upon the table. 
 
 After dinner we took another stroll on the beach and at six o'clock 
 got under way for home with the early flood. The sail home was de- 
 lightful, and we ventured outside New Inlet until we felt the ocean 
 ground swell; when some of the women complained of sea sickness, 
 we returned. 
 
 The wind was light ; the weather perfect. Our progress homeward 
 was slow and tedious; we did not arrive until after dark. The small 
 boats were dispensed with on our return; it being now high tide, the 
 sloop came up to the dock of Samuel Tredwell's landing, where wagons 
 were In waiting to carry us home. Everybody had a good time, got 
 sunburned, and the old folks and the children were very tired. Thus 
 
 128 
 
ended a very pleasurable day, a kind of family reunion, which will be 
 repeated again next year, as it has been continued from immemorial time. 
 
 Sunday, August 14, 1842. 
 
 Went this day to see the great Millerite encampment in Pettit^s 
 woods, about one mile south from the Village of Hempstead. We 
 believe they have been encamped here about one week. This piece of 
 primeval woods is charmingly adapted and is held for purposes of this 
 kind. The grounds are fenced, or stockaded, and can be closed at night 
 against intruders. The encampment does not in any essential particular 
 differ in its arrangement from an ordinary Methodist camp meeting. 
 There is a large shelter, or stand, erected, from which sermons are 
 preached or addresses delivered. 
 
 There are seats erected sufficient to accommodate two thousand peo- 
 ple ; besides, there is a large tent capable of holding a great many people, 
 to be used in the emergency of bad weather. The private tents, of which 
 there were a great many, were arranged about the grounds much as 
 the ordinary camp meeting. We were told that the attendance during 
 the week had not been remarkably great, being mostly composed of the 
 faithful; people were too busy getting in their crops to listen to talks 
 about the end of the world. "We'll get our wheat in, and then we 
 don't care." 
 
 But there was a vast number of people on the ground today, the 
 greater portion of whom were attracted there out of curiosity and the 
 novelty of the occasion. Not much respect was shown for the promoters 
 of the Millerite bubble. It was regarded by all level-headed people the 
 most airy of all the religious frauds. 
 
 The founder of this schism was William Miller. His doctrine 
 was made known to the world in 1833. He claimed that he had dis- 
 covered from the Scriptures that the second coming of Christ was to 
 take place in April, 1843, when the world would come to an end and the 
 faithful would enter at once into the joys of heaven; that they would 
 be translated in the flesh when the dissolution took place, which Miller 
 prophesied would be in April, 1843. This doctrine of Miller, which 
 seems to supplement the general belief of all Christians in the second 
 coming of Christ, did not require a great deal of pushing to capture 
 the minds of weak Christians. Many of the strong ones ridiculed Miller 
 as a fraud, while in their hearts they quaked with fear as the day ap- 
 proached, fearing that it might be true. 
 
 While the great crowd on the camp ground who were not wor- 
 shippers, nor neophytes, maintained a marvelous decorum, it was quite 
 the reverse on the outside of the grounds; for a fourth of a mile north 
 and south of the main entrance every conceivable traffic in bibulous 
 fluids was carried on, and noisy vagabond crowds occupied booths on 
 the highway. There was a constant stream of pedestrians going and 
 coming from the Village of Hempstead. 
 
 129 
 
The most attractive speaker during the day was Joshua V. Hines, 
 chief saint and prophet. He spoke twice during the day from the out- 
 side stand. One Amasa Baker held forth from within the big tent. 
 He was a fire eater. He enunciated emphatically that all the saints 
 who accepted the teachings of the prophet and were prepared would 
 enter with Christ the Kingdom in April next; all others would be 
 burned to a cinder by an avenging God. Many others preached, but 
 the principal method for proselytizing was through the circulation of 
 printed matter, pamphlets, not only for the camp ground, as was being 
 done at the present time, but for years previous the country had been 
 flooded with Millerite literature, pamphlets and books. No household 
 on the South Side escaped this infliction. Some of the pamphlets were 
 made up of labyrinthian diagrams, signs, with a muddle of mathematics, 
 chronology and Scripture references, entirely beyond the comprehension 
 of any sane man. By this means the doctrinal jungle had been thorough- 
 ly introduced to all grades of society in this part of the town, and with 
 all this and a great deal of intemperate bluster, and the promise of a 
 free passage to heaven, while all other things were in a state of fusion, 
 many people who had never seriously anticipated going to heaven at 
 all were scared into a yearning, and some no doubt were led to sincerely 
 believe. 
 
 But we shall see what takes place on April next. Many of the 
 faithful have made complete arrangements for the ascension, some 
 having already prepared ascension robes of elaborate structure. Some, 
 it is said, have given away their property to relieve themselves of all 
 earthly attachments, knowing that they will have no further use for 
 such things. 
 
 The devotion of these deluded people to their cause and their ab- 
 solute faith transcends anything we have ever seen in the way of re- 
 ligious enthusiasm. In all their prayer meetings, in their singing and 
 in their conversations, there was an earnestness marvelous for so weak 
 a cause. There were many people about the grounds known to us whose 
 interest seemed to be more than mere idle spectators. Thy appeared to 
 be connected with the encampment; many of them belonged on the 
 Neck, and whom we had never suspected of being tainted with this 
 most preposterous fake, they being communicants in other churches. 
 
 Altogether, the day was profitably spent in meeting friends and 
 punning about becoming colors for robes, etc., not, however, in a sense 
 of ridicule to those sincere worshippers; upon their leaders rests the 
 odium. 
 
 The records of the Millerite movement in the Town of 
 Hempstead during the years from 1834 to 1843 would form 
 an Important factor in the history of the town during that de- 
 cade. Many proselytes were made In Hempstead from the 
 
 130 
 
sturdy, hard-working yeomanry of the South Side, who had 
 successfully resisted the appeals of all other sects. 
 
 They were reached principally by personal contact, the 
 newspapers and a vast amount of book and pamphlet literature. 
 
 William Miller, the founder of the sect, was born at 
 Pittsfield, Massachusetts, 1781, and he began prophesying the 
 end of the world and the second coming of Christ about 1834. 
 The Great High Priest, however, of the sect was Joshua V. 
 Hines. 
 
 The following is from "Reminiscences of an Octogenar- 
 ian of the City of New York (1816 to 1840)" : "This year 
 (1833) saw the beginning of the Millerite craze, which as- 
 sumed considerable proportions during the ten years or more 
 next succeeding, causing a good deal of talk and newspaper 
 comment and unsettling many weak minds. William Miller 
 of Hampton, New York (born in Pittsfield, Mass.), believed, 
 or pretended that he had discovered from his study of the 
 Holy Scriptures, that the end of the world was near at hand 
 and prophesied Christ's second coming in the month of April, 
 1843. The new doctrine was promulgated by preaching and 
 circulation of books and tracts and secured adherents, many 
 of whom when the appointed time drew near divested them- 
 selves of their property, as being of no further use to them and 
 prepared ascension robes to be in readiness for the great day. 
 Finally, the day arrived; full of expectation, every Millerite 
 was prepared; but on that day, nothing unusual occurring, it 
 was said that some error in the computation had been found 
 and that the true date was in October of the same year. All 
 this did not in the least degree ruffle the faith of the true be- 
 liever." 
 
 A letter in the "Troy Times" of July, 1894, contains an 
 account by the Rev. Professor Wentworth, then in the Troy 
 Conference Academy, of a visit made by him to Miller on the 
 day before the great expected conflagration. 
 
 Professor Wentworth says: "That although the final 
 judgment was so near, and the faithful were casting away their 
 
 m 
 
worldly goods In contempt of all things perishable, it was not 
 so with Miller himself. He believed," says Dr. Wentworth, 
 "in the Scripture injunction, 'Occupy till I come,' and his fields 
 were clean mown and cropped, his woodhouse was full of wood 
 sawed and piled for winter use. Forty rods of new stone wall 
 had been built that fall, and a drag stood ready with boulders 
 as a cargo to be laid upon the wall the next day." 
 
 Lydia Maria Childs' caustic comment on the Millerlte 
 was that she had ''heard of very few instances of stolen goods 
 restored, or of falsehoods acknowledged as a preparation for 
 the dreaded event." 
 
 Upon the failure of the second prophecy reasons for a 
 new one were forthcoming, and again on March 22, 1844, the 
 Mlllerites, clad in their ascension robes, gathered on hilltops, 
 looking vainly for the coming of Christ from the East. It 
 was a pathetic company and much of the pathetic quality at- 
 tended this delusion, in the course of which the more feeble 
 minds became deranged, and not a few committed suicide. 
 
 During the years embraced in this recital much discus- 
 sion was had among the people of a higher intellectual grade 
 than Miller's proselytes generally, upon whom little or no 
 impression was made by these ranting adventlsts. 
 
 Miller outlived his reputation as a prophet, but not that 
 of a sacreliglous fraud, and the end of the world came for him 
 in December, 1849. The Second Adventlst Sect, however, of 
 which he was the real father, survives as his monument, hav- 
 ing attained the dignity of further sectism and subdivision 
 within itself, some of the members having developed new views 
 of the Trinity, while some retain orthodox opinions, some tak- 
 ing up the seventh day notion, others Sunday, etc. Miller, of 
 course, was the figurehead, but the brains were in the head of 
 Joshua V. Hines, an early convert, who became the real or- 
 ganizer of the movement and provided and disseminated its 
 literature. In after years, when sect after sect appeared among 
 the remaining adherents of Miller, Mr. Hines continued to 
 be the leader of the more conservative. At the age of seventy- 
 
 132 
 
four so adroit a schemer was he that he received Deacon's or- 
 ders In the Episcopal Church at the hand of Bishop Clarkson, 
 and remained In the missionary charge then entrusted to him, 
 and active therein, until his death at ninety years toward the 
 close of 1895. 
 
 The same author says: 'It Is a remarkable fact that the 
 Millerlte movement largely helped to pave the way for the 
 Episcopal Church reformation, into which thousands came 
 after the time had passed for the second coming. Mlllerism 
 made no converts originally from the Episcopal Church, but 
 drew from the religious bodies In which the doctrines of the 
 Intermediate state, the Resurrection and the second coming of 
 Christ had been once a prevailing faith, now much ignored.'' 
 
 We do not believe that the above, as a result, will apply 
 to the Hempstead South congregations of Mlllerism. Our 
 experience, which, true, was limited, was that those who drew 
 from the churches to swell the ranks of the Millerltes re- 
 turned generally to their old churches, the Presbyterian and 
 Methodist. An organization known as Second Adventists 
 survived the collapse at Hempstead. The true believer, how- 
 ever, lost no faith by the first failure, but on the second and 
 third many began to gain consciousness and realize that they 
 had been Imposed upon and felt the deepest mortification, 
 which was much heightened by the ridicule heaped upon them 
 by their unbelieving neighbors. And the taint stuck to them 
 many years. 
 
 Quite a large congregation of these deluded people as- 
 sembled In a barn between Rockville Centre and Hempstead 
 (further particulars leading to identification we forbear out of 
 respect to the many respectable survivors of these misguided 
 people), arrayed in ascension robes on the night before the 
 coming of Christ and their ascension. They spent the night 
 (their last on earth) In praying and singing, and not until the 
 dawn of day did It dawn upon these misguided idiots of the 
 ridiculous spectacle they made in returning to their homes in 
 their most absurd trousseau. Some felt the disgrace keenly, 
 
 133 
 
abandoned the faith and from that time never in any manner 
 referred to the subject of Millerism, or the second coming of 
 Christ. Some remained in the barn all day and left under the 
 shadow of darkness. These facts are all well known in the 
 neighborhood and there are those still living who remember the 
 incident and, in fact, there are some yet living who partici- 
 pated in this madman's act. Similar acts of imbecility took 
 place in many other places. It seems improbable that a ration- 
 al being could be led into such ridiculous beliefs, and yet it is 
 no more absurd than some things in all the creeds ; what makes 
 it ridiculous is that they believed it. 
 
 Friday, September 2, 1842. 
 
 John Tredwell, of Brooklyn, called on my father yesterday at the 
 home of the latter. He was in a most fantastic turnout, consisting of 
 a jaunty buggy with bright red wheels. His team, a white and a sorrel, 
 which he drove tandem, had exceedingly attractive harness and trap- 
 pings, trimmed with ribbons and rosettes. 
 
 Mr. Tredwell and his dashing rig created a sensation among the 
 plain country people, none to his reputation as a man of good sense, 
 from their point of view. 
 
 He had driven from Jamaica by way of Hempstead during the 
 morning. His horses were of the highest training, so my father says, 
 and no man in the United States held in higher estimation a well-dis- 
 ciplined, blooded horse than did John Tredwell. He spent about half 
 an hour at our house and drove off toward Jamaica. 
 
 The interview we afterwards learned was concerning 
 some interest my grandfather was supposed to have had in 
 property located at Huntington, L. I. 
 
 134 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Customs of The Marshing Season. 
 
 Foreword. 
 
 IKE the great plains, the marshes were the 
 common lands of the Town of Hempstead. The 
 marsh privileges were considered a great induce- 
 ment to settlers. 
 
 Sheep parting and marshing were institu- 
 tions peculiar to Long Island, and so far as we know were 
 unique. 
 
 On the south shore of Long Island, between the upland 
 and the beach, or ocean, is a tract of meadow, or marsh land, 
 consisting of about 50,000 acres, of which about 22,000 acres 
 lie In Queens County and about 8,300 acres in the Town of 
 Hempstead. 
 
 From the earliest history of the town efforts have been 
 made to divide the common lands of the Town of Hempstead, 
 consisting of the plain lands and these marshes, pro rata 
 among the freeholders of the town. These efforts for various 
 reasons have failed in fruition. At a general town meeting 
 held at Hempstead on October 14, 1723, certain freeholders 
 of the town presented a memorial, setting forth "That whereas, 
 many persons, having no rights whatever in the town, have 
 used large tracts of the common marshes to their benefit and 
 to the injury of the real parties interested, or the freeholders 
 and inhabitants of the town. The memorialists therefore 
 pray the assembly that a division of said common land be 
 equitably made among the freeholders of said town, in pro- 
 portion to their holdings at the present time, and for this 
 purpose pray that a commission may be appointed by this 
 Assembly, consisting of Colonel Hicks, James Searing, James 
 Jackson, William Willis, Sen. Benjamin Searing, Jun., Joshua 
 
 135 
 
"Carman and Abil Smith, with full power and authority to 
 "divide our said lands in manner and form prescribed." 
 (Here follows plan.) "And that the charges incurred in 
 "effecting such division be taken from the town funds now in 
 "the hands of Justice John Tredwell, Treasurer of the Town." 
 The resolution was adopted and at the same time It was or- 
 dered that the men deputed to make the division be allowed 
 for their services six shillings per day each. 
 
 At a town meeting held nearly twenty years later the 
 four supervisors of this commission were called upon for a 
 report, and they asked for more time. The objection to the 
 scheme seemed to be too much power In the commission, that 
 the projected plan permitted them to dispose of the land as 
 they pleased, and laying out to some persons select tracts, while 
 others might be left to put up with what was left, or get 
 nothing. 
 
 This tract of marsh land Is perfectly level and is inter- 
 spersed by creeks running in every conceivable direction, and 
 being of every conceivable degree of crookedness, width and 
 depth. A large portion of this tract of meadow produces a 
 salt grass very healthful for cattle and sheep. And it being 
 common land of the town, any townsman may harvest as much 
 as he pleases, with only the restriction as to the time for the 
 commencement of cutting. At the town meeting, or spring 
 election, It was resolved by the good people of the town viva 
 voce that the cutting of the marshes shall commence on a 
 named day, usually Tuesday after the second Monday In 
 September. Consequently, on the day previous, or the second 
 Monday in September, the Inhabitants go in their boats to lo- 
 cate a patent, or in other words, to select a desirable piece of 
 grass not yet selected by any other person; but no one Is per- 
 mitted to cut until sunrise on Tuesday, under the penalty of the 
 law. The cutting of hay on these marshes commenced early 
 in the history of the English settlers, but the first act appearing 
 on the records of the town regulating the cutting was on July 
 5, 1667, and was as follows: 
 
 136 
 
"July ye 5, 1667. 
 
 "It is ordered this day by the constable and overseers of 
 "this present towne that Noe man shall mow under any pre- 
 "tense soever Any of ye common meddows Att the South be- 
 "fore ye 25th Day of this present Month upon ye Breach of 
 "this order he that shall make ye Breach of ye foresayd order 
 "shall forfitt the sayd grass or hay or ten shillings a lode ye 
 "one halfe to him that Complains and ye other halfe to ye 
 
 "towne." 
 
 From this time on, many acts were passed at the town 
 meeting regulating the cutting of grass and many other mat- 
 ters concerning the marshes, until nearly one hundred years 
 later, we find the following fully defined enactment on the 
 town records : 
 
 "Att a Publick Town Meeting held in Hempstead the 
 "thirty-first Day of August one thousand and Seven hundred 
 "and Sixty-one persuant to the Direction of the above War- 
 "rant it Was then Voted and Agreed upon by the Majority of 
 "the Freeholders & Tennants in Common of the Said Town- 
 "ship then Assembled that No Grass Nor Sedge Shall be cut 
 "On the Common Meadows or MarsheSsOn the South Side of 
 "Sd Township at any time hereafter untill the first day of 
 "September (Except Such Small Quantitys as people usually 
 "Cut in the Summer Season to Salt their cattle), and it is Also 
 "Voted by a Majority of the said Freeholders & Tennants in 
 "Common that if Any person shall Cut any Grasse or Sedge 
 "as aforesaid before the first day of September they shall 
 "forfitt & pay twenty shillings for Every offence to the use of 
 "the poor of the said Township & the following persons to 
 "wit: Timothy Beadle, Sam R. Smith, Samuel Langdon, In- 
 "crease Pettit & William Langdon, or any two of them are by 
 "Vote of the said Freeholders and tennants in common chosen 
 "to Sue for the Said Fines and forfitures & When Received to 
 "pay it to the Church Warden for the use above said. 
 
 "And whereas many persons have of late years been 
 "obliged to go to the Marshes to Git hay to Winter there Cat- 
 
 To 137 
 
'tie but find Great Difficulty in Curing the Same for want of 
 'More publick Landing places and have complained at the 
 'Town Meeting that Sundry persons have inclosed part of the 
 'Common Land and Meadow AT South for their own particu- 
 'lar use So as to Debar the Town in general the benefitt 
 'thereof therefore the Freeholders & Tennants as abovesaid 
 'Do by Majority of Votes Appoint and Impower Timothy 
 'Beadle, Thomas Rushmore, Isaac Denton & Benjamin 
 'Cheesman to Inspect into the Same and Where they Shall find 
 'Any person or persons that have fenced in Any of the An- 
 'cient Comanages as aforesaid they shall require Such Persons 
 'to throw out the Same in Som Convenient time, Which if 
 'they neglect or Refuse to Do then the said Persons or 
 'Either of them Shall Lay Open the Same and the Town to 
 'Clear them Harmless for So Doing & as Several persons 
 'Who usually practice Gitting Hay of the Marshes have 
 'Made Application to this Town Meeting in behalf of them- 
 'selves and Others that Now Do or hereafter May have Occa- 
 'sion to Git Hay of the Marshes for Libery to Inclose such 
 'parts of the comonages as they May have Occasion for to 
 'cure their Hay On. During the General Season of Gitting 
 'Sedge and then their Inclosure to be removed So as to Lye 
 
 in common." 
 
 All of which was granted by the Major Vote of the Free- 
 holders. 
 
 On June 17, 1765, the above enactment was confirmed by 
 the assembled freeholders, adding "That whereas, many per- 
 "sons have for Several Years past in order to Ingross to them- 
 "selves the Sedge Growing on the Most handy Marshes in 
 "the Said Township as Soon as the time Comes for Mowing 
 "to go on with such a Number of hands as to Cut down Such 
 "Large parcels as cannot be got off under several days which 
 "Not only Renders it Liable to be Carried away with the 
 "tide & so make a Scarcity butt is doing great Injustice to the 
 "other Inhabitants having a right as they are deprived of a 
 
 138 
 
"Share in the handy marshes and are obliged to get most of 
 *'their Hay from the Most distant. 
 
 ''Now, if any persons Shall for the futer any time before 
 "the 20th day of September Cut Down Any More Sedge on 
 "the said South Marshes than they shall Bring off the same 
 "day they Shall forfitt twenty Shillings for each Offence. 
 
 "In case of stress of weather or accident such persons 
 "May not be considered offenders." A committee was ap- 
 pointed to enforce the enactment. 
 
 At every town meeting some enactment was passed regu- 
 lating the cutting of grass on the marshes. The last act con- 
 tained in the extant records of the Town of Hempstead was 
 passed August 7, 1775. It was merely confirmatory of former 
 acts. 
 
 There is an unwritten common law among these honest 
 people that the person first locating on a tract of marsh sig- 
 nified by setting up a rake, a pitchfork, a grindstone, or other 
 device, has undisputed right to occupy against all subsequent 
 comers. This right is never questioned. 
 
 My father had located a cluster of islands on Shell Creek, 
 better known as Mud Hole Hassock. These patents were 
 about three and a half miles from our landing place on the 
 mainland. The landing place was private, belonging to our 
 family, and we consequently escaped the 111 consequences of 
 common dockage and common curing ground. Such was the 
 scarcity and so great the demand for curing ground that the 
 highway commissioners were petitioned to set aside a piece 
 of public ground for that purpose, which they did as a fred 
 spreading ground. 
 
 (See Rec. of the Towns of North and South Hempstead, 
 Liber E, page 70.) 
 
 The grass when cut was brought in boats (large farmers 
 had scows which would carry ten ordinary boat loads) to the 
 mainland, usually the same day that It was cut, for a storm 
 or a spring tide might carry It all away. Here It was spread 
 out on upland to cure, and when cured It was removed to the 
 
 139 
 
barnyard and stacked, the cattle and sheep generally having 
 access to it during the winter. They did not, however, eat 
 much of it; it was very salt. They enjoyed a little of it as a 
 relish only. Milch cows were kept away from it, as it was 
 said to dry up their milk. 
 
 This sedge hay harvest, or marshing, as it was called, was 
 a season of hard work, but not without its pleasures. It was 
 extremely healthful work. There were some who cut this hay 
 to sell, and we believe it was sold at a profit. Farmers living 
 out of the town who kept a large stock of cattle were generally 
 the customers who purchased it. A two-horse load after it 
 was cured would fetch about twelve or fifteen dollars. Some 
 of the larger farmers who wintered a great deal of stock cut 
 large quantities of this hay and had many men in their employ 
 during the sedge harvest. Such usually constructed temporary 
 huts or shelters of considerable dimensions on the marsh dur- 
 ing this season. In these rude structures they slept, generally 
 taking their meals in the open air, one of their number usually 
 doing the cooking and preparing the meals. The cook was 
 generally the greatest crank in the gang. He had a weakness 
 for his profession and was always ventilating his peerless 
 qualities as a caterer. 
 
 Eels, hard and soft shell clams, crabs and fish being ob- 
 tainable in great quantities in the waters of the immediate 
 creeks and bays, the farmers and their hands lived pretty 
 generally upon these products, sometimes, however, indulging 
 in the luxury of such game as snipe and duck. There was a 
 great variety of game birds frequenting the waters and marshes 
 of this part of Long Island, as the plover, canvasback duck, 
 yellow leg snipe, marlin and others of the tribe, teal or brant. 
 
 Many of the plain countrymen are genuine sporting men 
 of the old school, famous for coolness, unassuming and who 
 do not in the fullness of experience claim entire immunity from 
 nervousness in extreme cases, as a prolonged struggle with a 
 twelve-pound sheepshead with a six-ounce rod and an ordinary 
 trout line, and whose nerves do sometimes threaten ancesthesia 
 
 140 
 
in looking Into a flock of yellow leg snipe or marlln along the 
 barrels of his fowling piece, but they never miss their game. 
 
 We recall with great pleasure the incidents of the nine 
 days spent in the marshing camp, during which period we 
 slept on the marsh, ate eel and clam chowder and smothered 
 flounders, or fluke, with the mess. 
 
 The methods of cooking were probably healthful, but 
 not calculated to inspire the greatest enthusiasm for its classi- 
 cal neatness, or immaculate cleanliness, nor its conformity 
 with the revised code of Brillat Savarin. 
 
 Our chef de cuisine was phenomenal In science and arti- 
 fice; one iron pot rendered service for boiling, stewing, roast- 
 ing and for a variety of other purposes. The plates used were 
 of pewter, spoons of the same material. Elegance and for- 
 mality were not distinguishing characteristics of these camp 
 meals, but they were served and eaten with an abundance of 
 that appetizing sauce called in the old adage "hunger." Ovid 
 observed that even the fingers could be used with grace at 
 meals. 
 
 The vividness and detail with which our memory recalls, 
 after a lapse of nearly fifty years, the small Incidents of the 
 old institution and its customs, all now passed into the realm 
 of dreams, is an evidence of the deep impression made upon 
 us and the intensity with which we enjoyed them. We believe 
 many farmers looked forward with pleasure to the marshing 
 season, as a relief to the monotony of their lives. They made 
 a picnic of it. 
 
 All is now passed and oblivion Is fast closing over even 
 the memory of these interesting local institutions. 
 
 The following entry was made: 
 
 Monday, September 5, 1842. 
 
 The law now in force concerning the cutting of sedge on the 
 marshes, or the common lands, is that no grass shall be cut before 
 Tuesday after the first Monday in September. Some amendments 
 were made to the marshing law almost every year, but this regulating 
 the cutting was of many years' standing. 
 
 According to a long-established custom, our gang were on the 
 
 141 
 
ground at Mud Hole Hassock early on Monday (this) morning and 
 took possession of these hassocks under a ceremony very much like that 
 under which Hendrick Hudson took possession of the Island of Man- 
 hattan, not, however, by the erection of our flag, but by the more sig- 
 nificant symbols of putting up a rake in one place, a pair of cock-poles 
 in another, our residence and grindstone in another, thus giving notice 
 to the world that our claim was by prior discovery and would be de- 
 fended against all or any subsequent claimant. 
 
 As no sedge could be cut on Monday, except for erecting huts, or 
 some such necessary purpose, the day was spent in preparation, grind- 
 ing scythes, mending rakes, etc. First, a hut or shelter was erected, 
 and all hands were set to work in its construction. The site selected 
 was on Shell Creek and which had been occupied for the past twenty- 
 five years for the like purpose. There is no high ground on these 
 marshes, but our home site was a trifle higher than the surrounding 
 marsh, made so to some extent by the accumulations incident to oc- 
 cupancy. The soil, and consequently the vegetation, had changed in 
 immediate proximity to our habitation. The vegetation was in a transi- 
 tion state and was already beginning to give evidence of upland ten- 
 dencies, and a resemblance to fresh water products. All this greatly re- 
 lieved the monotonous landscape. 
 
 A hardy shrub with strong woody fibre had taken possession of a 
 little knoll around our hut and extended its sheltering branches over 
 the less hardy aliens which from accident or selection had invaded our 
 little plot. It is marvelous how soon after being rendered possible by 
 leeching and bleaching that upland plants appear in favored spots on 
 these marshes to the exclusion of all saline types. 
 
 Our household consisted of five men and myself and accommoda- 
 tions, although necessarily the most primitive, must be provided for their 
 protection from storms and for comfortable sleeping quarters. In fine 
 weather we would be expected to take our meals in the open air. One 
 of our gang took charge of the preparation of meals and the cooking, 
 and the quantities of food consumed by these five men was truly astound- 
 ing, although a large portion of our food was prepared on the main- 
 land, such as bread, navy hard bread, pies, cooked ham, baked beans and 
 many others; vegetables were cooked in camp; also clams, fish, eels 
 and birds were served daily. We had an abundant supply of fruit and 
 melons. 
 
 Everything now being in readiness for the opening of the season 
 tomorrow, Tuesday, supper was served, and after smoking their pipes 
 the men turned in and in a few minutes were sleeping as soundly as 
 played-out children. 
 
 The novelty of the situation drove sleep from us, and after seek- 
 ing in vain to sleep, thinking into forgetfulness, we crept silently out 
 into the open air. It was a magnificent night. The moon and stars 
 were reflected in flickering zig-zag lines upon the rippling waters. A 
 
 142 
 
slight mist like a curtain hung motionless over the distant creeks, but 
 the solitude was painful. Now and then we were startled by the metallic 
 cackle of a meadow hen or the muffled quack of a sheldrake. Other- 
 wise it was the silence of death, save the ceaseless roll of the ocean. 
 
 Tuesday J September 6, 1842. 
 
 The men were on hand at sunrise with a determination to send a 
 freight of grass on shore on the morning flood tide, it being high water 
 a little after ten o'clock, but alas, on the first stroke with the scythe it 
 was evident that we must suspend in consequence of the snails, the 
 Melajnpus'bidentatus. These little creatures, not more than a quarter 
 of an inch long were on the grass in countless millions and absolutely 
 prevented the men mowing. They have a tough hard shell and in one 
 stroke of the scythe its edge must necessarily come in contact with 
 thousands — no scythe could endure it. This initial trouble was a little 
 mollusc, an air-breathing animal with true lungs, whose habitat was in 
 the mud at the roots of the sedge grass. He is emphatically a saline 
 creature, but he is wonderfully fond of a little fresh water, and in the 
 morning when the dew is on he ascends the stalk to get the pearly drop 
 suspended on the tip of the sedge leaf, and in such vast numbers are 
 these tiny creatures and so simultaneous are their movements that they 
 would defeat any effort of the mower to cut through them. 
 
 Operations must therefore be suspended awaiting their pleasure; 
 from this there was no appeal. However, they soon completed their 
 pilgrimage, for having captured the coveted crystal drop, they descend 
 to their mud homes and in half an hour the grass was entirely free of 
 them. The mowers then went at the work with a will, and in less 
 than two hours had cut sufficient grass for a freight and had commenced 
 loading our transport with the hay, and at nine and a half o'clock our 
 first freight was afloat on its way to the landing. 
 
 Wednesday, September 7, 1842. 
 
 At nine o'clock this morning our transport was again freighted and 
 on its way to the mainland, it being our intention to send two freights 
 today, one on the morning flood and another on the afternoon. After 
 the return of our boat she was again freighted and sent to the landing, 
 this being the second freight today. 
 
 Thursday, September 8, 1842. 
 
 It was very foggy this morning and our boat returned late, but 
 was immediately freighted and sent on shore. In this manner the time 
 passed, shipping one load a day, oftener two, except Sunday. 
 
 On Sunday, September 11th, we made an excursion to the Long 
 Beach. 
 
 Long Beach is about eight miles long, a continuous exchange of 
 sand dunes and ocean strand. And we have heard people say that this 
 stretch of seaboard was a bleak, dreary and unattractive waste. • To 
 this we beg to demur. It must be admitted, however, that the first 
 
 143 
 
impression of the landscape is barrenness, which instead of being dissi- 
 pated, is probably intensified by the sparse vegetation of coarse star- 
 grass with here and there a sunny patch of wild flower in yellow and 
 red. The star-grass, "Marrum" or sea mat, the roots of which pene- 
 trated to a depth of thirty feet in search of moisture, is a great protec- 
 tion to the dunes and to a great extent preserves the form and durability 
 of the hills. 
 
 In some localities on our sea coast where the sand is invading the 
 upland, the artificial cultivation of marrum has stayed the invasion 
 and large tracts of valuable land have been saved. 
 
 We differ from those who see no beauty in the beach landscape. 
 As a whole, the strand, the dunes and the associated marsh to us is a 
 landscape of unparalleled attractiveness. There is something restful 
 and soothing in its silence and stillness. No sound save that of the mo- 
 notonous old ocean upon the shingled beach in front of the sand hills, 
 and the ceaseless cry of the sea gull performing its graceful evolutions 
 overhead, now and then a snipe; but notwithstanding all this, the ag- 
 gregate effect is solitude. 
 
 The eye cannot penetrate the length of these dunes westward. 
 They melt into the horizon and their magnitude is intensified with an 
 endless variety of form. 
 
 These sand hills have an individuality. They are unlike any other 
 hills. They are miniature mountain ranges, as unstable as the waves 
 of the ocean beating at their base. They encircle deep and watered 
 valleys, having a soil and healthful vegetation. As we stand on one of 
 the greatest elevations facing westward, on our immediate right (the 
 north) the white sand shades down insensibly by increased vegetation 
 into the green landscape of the marsh with no sharp line of demarca- 
 tion between beach and marsh. Next beyond to the north comes the 
 West Run, a wide deep passage of water, like a trunk canal; it dis- 
 tributes all the waters of the floods and ebbs running west from and 
 east to New Inlet. Farther still to the right, about one mile distant, by 
 the aid of a field glass our camp is distinctly made out. Our boat that 
 went on shore last night is just returning and will be ready for another 
 freight tomorrow. 
 
 On the other side, the left, is the strand and the ocean, and here 
 was a scene difficult to describe, but of unsurpassing interest. We 
 counted within eye. range from west to east sixty-four sailing vessels, 
 sloops and schooners, coasters belonging to the various ports of the south 
 side of Long Island, some going to, others returning from. New York 
 and places on the Hudson. Farther out on the ocean there were within 
 sight at the same moment eleven square-rigged ocean-going craft, some 
 just completing their maybe long and tempestuous voyage, others out- 
 ward bound. 
 
 There was a good full-sail breeze blowing from the westward and 
 it was interesting to watch the change in position of the westward 
 
 144 
 
bound coasters. It was like a vast regatta. They were obliged to 
 beat; one tack, "the long leg," would be off shore, and "the short leg" 
 on shore. On the on-shore tack some of them would stand close enough 
 inshore so that we could hear the man in the jib sheets call out "let her 
 come," or "helium down" when in his judgment they were close enough 
 inshore for safety, and this vast procession lasted until in the afternoon. 
 As some passed out of sight in the distance others came in, until about 
 five o'clock the whole coast was cleared, not a boat in sight save those 
 entering our port. It seemed that the ocean had engulfed them, but 
 that was not so. The weather outlook was threatening and they had 
 prudently sought shelter in the side ports of Long Island. 
 
 We tramped several miles along the beach, feeling little or no 
 fatigue, and on our return stopped at the Hummocks, where a large 
 hut had been erected and was maintained ; peradventure it might prove 
 a shelter to some poor bayman, or maybe to some wrecked sailor. There 
 was a large Indian shell heap at this place, before referred to. The hut 
 was occupied by Ize Johnson, with general consent its accepted keeper. 
 
 Ize was a vagrant throughout. We do not mean a vicious loafer, 
 but a dreamy idler who takes life indifferently, having learned the Art 
 of Arts, that of doing without — a cultivated savage — this is no contradic- 
 tion — it is near the perfection of manhood. 
 
 We looked in the hut, but did not enter; the atmosphere was far 
 from being agreeable. After giving Ize all the tobacco in our party, we 
 left for the camp. 
 
 The weather prognostications for tomorrow were bad. 
 
 Monday, September 12, 1842. 
 
 At six A. M. we were afloat with rod and gun to make a day for 
 weakfish in Scow Creek, and peradventure any winged creature that 
 may venture within our range. Weather fair, wind S. E. 
 
 Returned with fifteen pounds of weakfish and an empty gun. 
 During the entire nine days of this picnic the weather was remarkably 
 fine. We had but one short storm, many fogs, and among the casualties 
 worthy of mention one was the sinking of our boat with a freight of 
 hay on. It happened in this wise: We were getting ready to go on 
 shore with a freight ; a strong wind was blowing from the northwest and 
 flood tide was making from the southeast. The boat was unmoored 
 from the bank; before her crew were ready the tide swung her around 
 against the strong wind, and between the two forces, wind and tide, 
 acting in counter directions, she careened over, filled with water and 
 sank. She was immediately towed to shallow water and unloaded. By 
 this accident one trip was lost. The other casualty was the loss of a 
 dinner through the stupidity of our cook. He upset two and a half 
 gallons of clam chowder into the fire, putting out the fire, putting out 
 the chowder, and seriously putting the workmen out of temper, who 
 were obliged to satisfy their hunger upon hardtack, red herring and a 
 short allowance of beans. 
 
 145 
 
Wednesday, September 14, 1842. 
 
 The second marshing week was enlivened by an affair in the bay 
 which might have ended in a tragedy. 
 
 It had been a custom from immemorial time for vessels, sloops and 
 schooners, to lay at anchor in Long Creek with a clam basket up in the 
 shrouds — a signal that they were there for trafficking in clams and 
 would purchase, with cash, all that were brought to them. This was 
 all legitimate, providing the sloops and schooners belonged to the ports 
 of the South Side, and that those who caught and offered the clams 
 for sale were inhabitants of the town. 
 
 A great wrong had been endured by the townspeople of Hemp- 
 stead, long prior to 1753 to the present, for on the 13th of October, 
 1753, we find that the freeholders of the town at a town meeting at 
 Hempstead adopted the following resolutions which embody the entire 
 grievance : 
 
 "Whereas, a great many Strangers (without any Right, Liberty 
 "or License so to do), and also some of the Inhabitants of the said 
 "Town, have lately come with Canoes, Boats and other Vessels into 
 "the Bays, Creeks and Marshes Situate on the South Side of the Said 
 "Township and there Raked and Taken and wholly Destroyed Vast 
 "Quantytys of Certain Shell fish Called Clams with Designe chiefly 
 "for the benefit of the Shells which Havock and Wast if Continued and 
 "Suffered will tend to the Total Destruction of that part of the fishery 
 "in those places to the very great Loss and Detriment of the Inhabi- 
 "tants of the Said Town. Especially of the poorer Sort who Daly 
 "Receive great Benefit and Sustenance from the Said Fishery. In Order 
 "for the Preventing of the aforesaid Mischife and Wrong it is now by 
 "the freeholders of the Said Town with the Concurence and Desire of 
 "others the Inhabitants agree to and the Right Privilege and free Liberty 
 "of the piscary and fishery of Clams in the aforesaid plaise is hereby 
 "given and granted unto James Pine, Leffert Hogovout, Colman Comes 
 "and Abram Bond as assignees and feoffers in Trust for the use and 
 "benefit of the aforesaid freeholders and Inhabitants and in respect of 
 "these persons who Reside in the Said Town and do do the futer for 
 "their own Covetious humors Continue to Make Destruction of the 
 "Said fishery in manner aforesaid the aforesaid Trustees are to agree 
 "with those persons and assign them and Space where to take clams and 
 "if these persons will neither Disest from Destroying the Clams in 
 "manner as aforesaid or come to a Reasonable Agreement then in that 
 "case the Said Assignees or Trustees are to bring them to An Appor- 
 "tionment By Law or Equity as they in their Discretion shall think fit 
 "and With Respect to Straingers and Idel persons who have no right 
 "in the town aforesaid it is by the freeholders and Inhabitants of Sd 
 "Town Ordered that for Each offence as above said they shall pay a 
 "fine of Twenty Shillings and the aforementioned Trustees are Hereby 
 "Impowered to Sue for the Same and to pay themselves for their Trouble 
 
 146 
 
''Out of the Said fines and the Overplush Deliver to the Church War- 
 "dens for the Use of the Poor." 
 
 Records of the Town of Hempstead, 
 
 Liber E, Page 449, 
 
 Re-Enacted in 1769, 
 
 And subsequently Amended. 
 
 The townspeople had suffered these outrages, from which there 
 seemed no relief, for a long time. Legislation had been tried without 
 avail. 
 
 Yesterday, September 13th, when the South Bay was swarming 
 with a population of hay gatherers, a large strange schooner from New 
 Jersey came into New Inlet, sailed up Long Creek and came to anchor 
 opposite Skow Creek. Soon after she hoisted her basket, thus declaring 
 her errand and soliciting trade of the native baymen. (The news im- 
 mediately spread among the marshers that the strange vessel was a 
 pirate.) This was an aggravated case, inasmuch that she came with 
 six crews for clamming, all fully equipped with the latest contrivances 
 of rakes and tongs preparatory for stealing a cargo of clams, and 
 should no resistance be offered to do so peaceable, but forceably if 
 necessary. 
 
 On learning these facts the trustees were notified and they pro- 
 ceeded this morning to enforce the law. They visited the schooner, 
 followed by a long train of baymen in their boats and a whole fleet of 
 marshmen. 
 
 The trustees demanded that the schooner, being engaged in an un- 
 lawful traffic, immediately depart from these waters. 
 
 To this demand the captain bluntly refused to comply, declaring 
 that he had entered the port in stress of weather for water and pro- 
 visions, that he "knew his rights and would maintain them by force 
 against a gang of land pirates if necessary." This was impolitic lan- 
 guage, and he was instantly informed by the indignant marshers and 
 baymen that he had an option of leaving in thirty minutes, or they 
 would burn his vessel. He still hesitated and wished to debate his 
 rights, but when they proceeded to carry out their threat he then hauled 
 down his basket and was out of the inlet in an hour. 
 
 The captain of this schooner had a crew of about twenty men, 
 which was force enough on any ordinary occasion to defy or overcome 
 the South Side authorities with their immediately available force, or 
 put out to sea at any moment when danger threatened. But he had 
 made a mistake in coming into the bay during the marshing season. He 
 had run unwittingly into a complete ambush. 
 
 The people of Hempstead had suffered too long these thieving in- 
 cursions w^ithout redress to allow this one now in their power to es- 
 cape without at least some healthful admonitions. No overt act had 
 been committed, no clams had been taken by these foreigners; had 
 there been, they would undoubtedly have been confiscated. The prompt 
 
 147 
 
and determined action of the marshers turned the threatened bloody 
 tragedy of the New Jersey captain into a one-act comedy. 
 
 Saturday, September 17, 1842. 
 
 Today we pulled up stakes for good. During all this marshing 
 season the duty had been imposed upon us of supplying the camp with 
 fish and fowl. We were complimented by the gang for our success 
 in that department, with a chilling rejoinder from the cook, who had a 
 contempt for our marksmanship, that he had never known game fur- 
 nished at such reckless cost of materials. We did not, however, ex- 
 pect much from the cook, for unpacific relations had existed between 
 us from the beginning, in consequence of our kindly suggesting the use 
 of more soap in the kitchen economy. 
 
 The hired men, however, were not very particular in their tastes, 
 and it was a merciful dispensation that they were not. When the 
 Scotch hostess seized the cap from the head of one of her boys and 
 boiled a pudding in it for Sam Johnson's dinner she made the most of 
 her resources, and we will charitably think that our cook did his best 
 with his limited means. 
 
 And now after all is over, so agreeably has the time passed that 
 we do not realize that we have been away at all, but have passed 
 through a hazy day-dream with no recognition of time. The greatest 
 pleasures of life are probably those which come unsought, and the 
 delicious unexpected compromise of idleness with labor was all disguised 
 in agreeable results. The hustle and bustle immediately preceding the 
 departure of our consignment of hay for the mainland and the delicious 
 inactivity as we watched the product of our labor glide from its moorings 
 and with a brisk south wind and a strong flood tide speed along Skow 
 Creek toward its destination to add one more load to our acquisitions, 
 was indeed a pleasurable leisure. 
 
 There are no delightful landscapes of forest and lawn embraced in 
 these common lands to enamour the lover of bower and shade, but these 
 marshes present a charming vista of hazy beauty unlike anything else 
 in nature. And the creeks, the waterways, are labyrinthian and present 
 novelties at every turn unknown to the most noted rivers of the world. 
 
 Wednesday, October 5, 1842. 
 
 Attended the sheep parting yesterday. The fair was much the 
 same as formerly and as fully described in another place in these remi- 
 niscences. 
 
 There is evidently a declining interest in these doings, owing prob- 
 ably to the great diminution in the attendance of respectable farmers, 
 who gave character and interest to the show, many of whom have ceased 
 keeping sheep. For the great bulk of the people attending sheep parting 
 did not go because they had sheep to look after, or any other real in- 
 terest in its affairs. But it is very evident that there will be no sheep 
 parting when the farmers cease keeping sheep. And this will be a con- 
 
 148 
 
summation of the not very distant future. Morality is not a loser by its 
 decadence. 
 
 In the afternoon a great storm, not in the programme, came up. 
 It was accompanied by a furfous tornado which carried aw^ay the 
 tents, upset the booths, and the rain absolutely soaked the assembled 
 pleasure seekers. 
 
 My father fortunately had a covered wagon on this occasion into 
 which we retired with some invited guests, while many were glad to 
 avail themselves of the shelter afforded by getting under the wagon, 
 and fortunate indeed it was that our wagon had been put in our private 
 sheep pen with its back to the northwest, whence the squall came, else 
 is would have shared the fate of others, i.e., blown away. My father, 
 in consideration for the old horse, took him from the wagon, turned up 
 the shafts and permitted him to stand with his nose in the wagon, thus 
 sheltering his face from the fury of the storm. The old horse knew 
 what it was all about and he showed his appreciation of that little mark 
 of kindness in a manner as unmistakable as if he spoke it. After the 
 storm was over we immediately left for home. Nobody was left on the 
 ground except a few who had chattels there to look after and gather 
 up, and those who were too boozy to get away. The day was otherwise 
 uneventful. 
 
 149 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Saturday Night at Milburn Corners.— The Trip to Sag Harbor.— Sag 
 
 Harbor July 26, 1843.— SouthaxMpton.— The Old 
 
 Sayre House. — Modern Sag Harbor. 
 
 Saturday, October 15, 1842. 
 
 ,ESTERDAY, October 14th, witnessed the great Croton 
 Water Celebration in New York. It was the grandest 
 spectacle ever witnessed in the city. It is said to have 
 even excelled the famous parade had on the completion of 
 the Erie Canal. We had a beautiful location for seeing 
 the procession, having been invited to the store of a 
 friend on Broadway a short distance above Chambers Street. 
 
 The procession was estimated to have been seven miles long, with 
 a great and magnificent display, military and civic. 
 
 All trades and many industries were represented in character. 
 One of the great novelties of the procession was a car bearing the 
 printing press on which Benjamin Franklin had once worked, and 
 on which were printed during its passage in the procession and dis- 
 tributed to the multitude, copies of an ode written for the occasion by 
 George F. Morris, which was afterwards sung by a large choir from 
 a stage erected in the City Hall Park. 
 
 The route of the procession was from the Battery up Broadway to 
 Union Square, where Governor Seward viewed the troops. The proces- 
 sion then proceeded down the Bowery to the City Hall, and after 
 some very interesting ceremonies was dismissed. The fountains along 
 the route were playing during the procession. 
 
 Speeches were made by the President of the Water Board, the 
 Governor of the State and the Mayor. The city was filled with 
 visitors; there were never so many strangers in New York. A grand 
 illumination took place during the evening, the City Hall was a blaze 
 of fire and bunting, and the day ended in other public and private 
 festivities. 
 
 Saturday, 'November 19, 1842. 
 
 Every Saturday night was market night, and there was a general 
 gathering of the people of the Neck at the corner (now Milburn 
 Corners). 
 
 We were greatly entertained last evening at the store of Tred- 
 well & Frost (Milburn) in hearing some of the old veteran baymen 
 and gunners, gathered about the store and occupying available soap 
 
 150 
 
boxes and barrel heads, relate experiences of great catches, great 
 shots and wonderful flights of Avater fowl. 
 
 Ad Carman and Dick Smith made their boasts that they had cut 
 down teal flying over White Hill point of marsh before a northwest 
 gale at fifty yards distant seven times out of ten, and Dick Verity, 
 with sinful sarcasm, offered to put up the bullion that he would bring 
 home more birds than both of them by taking his chances on those 
 which they missed. There was no reconciling some of their travestied 
 statements, nor was there any happy middle ground or average on 
 which to repose between their extremes — not falsehoods, but sarcasms. 
 AH were agreed, however, that the old veteran, Raynor Rock, at 
 birds on the wing in rapid flight, was the most reliable shot on Long 
 Island. Uncle Ben Raynor was as good as the best of them in his day, 
 and Ira Pettit, of Christian Hook, had had an enviable reputation, 
 now far past his prime. John Bedell thought he could average up 
 with any of them now. 
 
 All this conversation was provoked by the introduction of the fact 
 that Thomas Carman of Hick's Neck had at some time previous killed 
 thirty-four black ducks by one discharge of his fowling piece. This 
 statement, as extraordinary as it may appear, was too well attested to 
 be disputed. It created quite a sensation at the time. The Long Island 
 newspapers and the city papers commented upon it, but some credu- 
 lous people doubted it. Thomas Carman was an entirely trustworthy 
 man and his word may be relied upon, and he vouches for its truth. 
 We well remember the event, * but cannot now give the date. The 
 explanation, however, going with the statement being that the ducks 
 were caught in a rift of the thin ice which was gradually closing as the 
 two bodies of ice moved up with the flood tide, until in direct range 
 from Carman's blind, and his shot raked the entire flock. 
 
 These baymen never use double barrelled guns, but carry two 
 single barrels, and after discharging one into a flock, put the other 
 in commission to take the rising birds. In this case Carman seized 
 his other gun, but no birds arose; he had killed the whole flock, but it 
 was found on examination that six of the birds had been drowned 
 under the ice, where- they dove after being wounded. This kind of 
 entertainment is not of the true sporting man's hankering; it is whole- 
 sale slaughter. 
 
 The refinement and glory of a sportsman is not wanton destruc- 
 tion of life; genuine sporting is an inherited and humane accom- 
 plishment, and a man must be born to it as certain as he must be 
 born a poet. A man may be taught to make a hole as wide as a barn 
 door in a flock of ox-eye snipe and gather half a bushel of birds as 
 a result, or reward, of his contingent luck shot, or he may wing-break 
 a half-starved pigeon sprung from a trap fifteen or twenty yards off; 
 but to stop a vigorous and healthy teal cutting through the keen 
 frosty air of autumn, at daybreak, at the rate of eighty miles an hour, 
 
 151 
 
or to get a bead on a frightened woodcock as he flashes through the 
 opening of a thicket of underbrush, entitles a man to a seat among 
 the elders. It takes an eye, a hand and a heart which science cannot 
 create. *'It is born," says Squire Bob Akeley. "Reading and writing 
 are inflictions of the schoolmaster, but a crack shot is the work of God." 
 Among the shooting legends of Long Island, one was related of 
 a Bellport sportsman slaying one hundred and six yellow leg snipe 
 sitting on the beach by discharging both barrels into them. But Mr. 
 Audubon, the great naturalist, once condoned such an offense. He 
 says he was present when one hundred and twenty red breasted snipe 
 were killed by discharging three barrels into an enormous flock of 
 them. 
 
 Many were the marvelous feats of powder and shot related by 
 these amphibious, tarpaulin-skinned baymen, whose sense of humor is 
 as keen as their instincts in hunting. And their adroitness in turning 
 the statements of another into ridicule was unique and racy, but their 
 wit and sarcasm were show^n to the best advantage in describing the 
 presumptuous methods of a city Nimrod in taking wild fowl. 
 
 The subsistence and being of these people is with the bay. It 
 pervades their entire lives, and when they are not engaged in gunning, 
 or in talking and speculating upon spring flights of snipe, autumn 
 arrivals of sea fowl, nor dissertating upon marvelous hoardes of wild 
 pigeons, then they were either fishing or talking of fishing, at which 
 latter they were equally expert. 
 
 It is not always a salutary subject with South Siders, but we 
 venture the statement generally that the most successful gunner and 
 fisher is not infrequently tainted with Algonkin blood. Hecatombs 
 of sea fowl, willet, marlin, curlew and plover, have fallen victims to 
 the pleasure and profit of these craftsmen. 
 
 It was the verdict of the audience at the store that ordinary duck 
 shooting was failing; nothing short of twenty-five or thirty birds 
 could be considered a successful day's work, and in the season, which 
 is short, there are at least two hundred and fifty professionals hunt- 
 ing, and twice that number of amateurs, on the south side of Long 
 Island alone. The birds are getting scarce, but man pursues them 
 from Florida to Maine on their migration, during which time they are 
 constantly under fire. Annihilation is already in sight. 
 
 We may safely say that where we have seen the South Bay alive 
 with web-footed denizens, there is not at this time (1880) one where 
 there were thousands. When Thomas Carman, Floyd Smith and Dick 
 Verity would take a skiff load of coot, duck and sheldrake in a day, their 
 great-grandsons, with all the latest and most modern equipments of de- 
 struction, would have a struggle to bag (this is a modern invention; it 
 took the place of the wheelbarrow as a game receptacle) enough for 
 Sunday dinner, and still growing rarer. Within the memory of men 
 
 152 
 
now living, over fifty varieties of ducks frequented Long Island; now 
 there are not half that number. 
 
 We have seen the November air thick with wild pigeons, so manj' 
 that it was neither sport nor profit to shoot them. To the present 
 generation of Hempstead South the wild pigeon is (1880) unknown, 
 except the dressed and cooked variety. And the change was brought 
 about chiefly by the rapacity and indiscretion of man. Of a frosty 
 morning in the fall of 1846 we have seen the woods of John Tredwell 
 and William Bedell swarm with wild pigeons. There were millions 
 of them. In 1863 there were none worthy of mention, and in 1880 
 specimens for naturalists could with difficulty be obtained. Of birds, 
 few existed in the State of New York in such numbers as the wild 
 pigeon, and none have become extinct so quickly. It is now entirely 
 a creature of the past. 
 
 Friday, July 1, 1843. 
 
 Events for record have not crowded themselves upon us for the 
 past twelve months and the ordinary meteorological notes on the weather 
 as cold, hot, fair and stormy days have become too monotonous for a 
 popular journal. 
 
 But the ordinary has reached a climax, a turning point, and the 
 unexpected has happened. Yesterday was an epochal day, a day from 
 which to date a new era in electrical phenomena. It was pre-eminently 
 a day of thunderstorms; nature had broken restraint; every spot seemed 
 to be a storm center. The electrical disturbances began in the morning 
 and continued at short intervals until evening, ending in a storm of 
 painful severity. 
 
 The clearing up storm was the most remarkable we have ever 
 know^n, both in fierceness and in duration. The accompanying tornado 
 we have since been informed had a width of only a few hundred yards, 
 but it unroofed houses and barns, blew down chimneys, trees and de- 
 stroyed crops. The lightning was incessant, the sky was a blaze of 
 fire. It struck in many places. It struck and burned Jarvis Seaman*s 
 barn and contents, with horses; it struck and killed a man and horse 
 at the head of Coe's Neck who had sought the shelter of a large oak 
 tree standing in the road; it struck in many other places in its course 
 with equally serious effect, the details of which have not yet reached us. 
 The thunder and lightning were phenomenal for half an hour. It 
 was a continuous bombardment, and yet it was only a local storm. It 
 came up from the west; in the meantime, as the storm approached, it 
 was blowing a young hurricane from the southeast and hot as a 
 sirocco. It did not seem threatening at first, but it became very 
 dark and increased. It followed the seacoast, never extending inland 
 more than two miles. Raynortown, Merrick, Amityville, Babylon, 
 Islip and Patchogue all bear marks of its violence. By the time it 
 reached Patchogue it was carrying everything before it, houses, barns, 
 trees, fences, orchards and crops were demolished. 
 
 II 153 
 
Patchogue and vicinity were the greatest sufferers, although the 
 whole course of the tornado was marked with ruin. At this place it 
 deflected and passed out to sea. It swept the Great South Bay, lashing 
 its shallow waters into a fury, and did great damage to the small craft. 
 We have heard of no damage at sea and there probably w^as none. The 
 succession of storms and the threatening weather during the day gave 
 timely warning to keep out of its track, which they probably did. 
 
 Thursday, July 20, 1843. 
 
 It now being our vacation, we were informed that some business 
 of a family nature was to be transacted at Sag Harbor and that the 
 option of this mission was offered to us, and it would be necessary to 
 leave tomorrow (July 20th). 
 
 Today we were driven to Merrick, about five miles from Hemp- 
 stead on the turnpike, to intercept the Sag Harbor mail stage, which 
 leaves Brooklyn every Thursday morning at 9 A. M. At 2.30 P. M. 
 the stage arrived at Merrick at Hewlett's Corner, opposite the resi- 
 dence of Doctor Wheeler. The stage was full, but room was made 
 for us on top with the driver. From Merrick to Amityville the dis- 
 tance is about six miles (we get the distances from the stage driver). 
 The road was very dusty. On reaching Amityville two passengers got 
 out at South Side Hotel, which enabled us to get a seat inside. This 
 was more enjoyable than the outside in the sun, and we took our book 
 out to read, but the attractions of the country were much greater than 
 the book. It is a singularly interesting piece of country; its contiguity 
 to the ocean is the attractive feature. And then we had a traveling 
 companion who took a great deal of pains to make himself ridiculous 
 in relating his marvelous traveling experiences; he had visited many 
 countries, and did all the talking, his hearers the thinking. During 
 the afternoon we had a glorious shower, which laid the dust and made 
 the traveling more agreeable. We arrived at Babylon at 6.30 P. M. 
 Here we put up for the night at Carll's Hotel, Main Street. 
 
 Babylon (Sunguam's Neck) is a thriving village, with a general 
 air of business pervading it. The people get up early and appear to 
 have something to do, and set themselves about to do it. 
 
 Friday, July 21, 1843. 
 
 We were called for an early start this morning and we left without 
 breakfast. Our tedious and loquacious companion left us at Babylon 
 and the last we saw of him he was disputing with a local hackman 
 about fare to a certain place due north from Babylon, the hackman con- 
 tending that the distance was fifteen miles, our traveled friend insisting 
 with all the force of geographical facts on his side that you can't go 
 due north, or south, from any point on Long Island fifteen miles with- 
 out driving off; that's where we left him. 
 
 The rain of yesterday made the ride of this morning delightful. 
 The distance to Islip was five miles and we had a constant view of 
 the Great South Bay and ocean beyond, and the distance was soon gone 
 
 154 
 
over. No stop was made at Isllp except to water horses and leave the 
 mail. We were soon on the road to Patchogue (Porchog), a distance 
 from Islip of eleven miles, and nearly all the way in full sight of the 
 ocean and an endless expanse of sand hills, going through Bayshore 
 and Sayville, both thriving looking and well groomed little places. At 
 Patchogue, which we reached at about 10 A. M., we took breakfast 
 and changed horses. 
 
 Patchogue w^as named from a tribe of Indians who made it their 
 headquarters. It is a lively little town of about seven hundred in- 
 habitants with a number of hotels and some manufactories. Its great- 
 est merit being that it is located upon the great thoroughfare from 
 Brooklyn to Sag Harbor, and several other stage lines. It has two 
 important business streets. Main Street and Ocean Avenue, and it has 
 a considerable coasting traffic. Two of our company left here, and one 
 got on. After breakfast we started for the next stopping place, Fire 
 Place. Did not stop at Bellport, a much more important place, but a 
 little off the road. 
 
 Fire Place, formerly Connetquot, was distant from Patchogue 
 nine miles, where we arrived at 3 P. M. One of our passengers left 
 here. After leaving the mails for Fire Place, St. George's Manor and 
 Mastic, we proceeded on to Moriches. Fire Place is a small hamlet of 
 six or eight private houses, a hotel, church and schoolhouse, the rest 
 being mills. It is a tidy looking place nestled among willows and on the 
 edge of a great forest, a charming place for retirement, or a recluse. 
 Moriches is distant six miles over a territory where the leading impres- 
 sion is barrenness and sand. We arrived at 3 P. M., left the mail, 
 changed horses and were off again for Quogue (also called Quanqua- 
 nantuck) (the termination ogue in Indian proper names on Long Island 
 means fish)^ a distance of eight miles, where w^e arrived at 8 P. M. 
 and remained all night. Just before we reached Quogue we struck a 
 strong southeast wind loaded with moisture; it set us shivering. 
 
 Saturday, July 22, 1843. 
 
 Had an early breakfast and were off again before sunrise, while 
 the lighthouse at Shinnecock Point was yet flashing its rays. Our 
 next stopping place will be Southampton, a random village built along 
 a wide street two miles long called Main Street. It is distant nine 
 miles from Quogue. Southampton has a reputation and a history. The 
 travel today was slow; the road was heavy, but we had no dust. The 
 landscape was interesting, but a desert of sand, with a few green patches 
 to relieve it. It was a chromo landscape. A short stop only was made 
 at Southampton and we hurried on to Bridgehampton, a distance of six 
 miles, 'over which we passed without incident, except a little hamlet, 
 ironically called a centre of civilization, through which we passed, but 
 did not stop. We were, however, in review of the entire population 
 of men, women and dogs. From the glances we obtained of the motely 
 crowd should say that they were of that class of the human family 
 
 155 
 
called primitive. We did not see a pair of shoes among them; they 
 were all barefoot and nearly bareback, and appear to have solved the 
 great philosophy of Diogenes, "getting along without things." 
 
 A short stop at Bridgehampton ; we then pass tract after tract of 
 territory marked on the school geography barren, and arrived at Sag 
 Harbor at 4 P. M. 
 
 Sag Harbor is indebted for its name to Saggabonac (meaning the 
 place of ground nuts), a little place near Bridgehampton, for short 
 called Sagg, and Sag Harbor, being the seaport of Sagg, was baptized 
 Sag Harbor. 
 
 We immediately called upon Captain Budd, to whom we were 
 accredited. Our business was put down for the early part of the week. 
 Captain Budd to notify other parties in the matter, the object of our 
 visit. This was satisfactory to us, as it would give us time (nearly a 
 week) to do up the town and possibly to visit Montauk. 
 
 Sag Harbor is not an accident; it is a considerable village, situated 
 directly on the bay, with ample water for all maritime purposes. It 
 has a population of about three thousand and five hundred souls, and 
 considering that it is a seaport and its population consists largely of 
 sailors, it is orderly. The village consists of one principal street (Main 
 Street), pretty solidly built upon for several blocks, and on which its 
 business is transacted, with many side streets of private residences. On 
 Saturday, the day of our arrival, it certainly made a lively show for 
 business. It was the market day for the country people, who came 
 from miles around, and country wagons and "hayseeders" possessed 
 the town. 
 
 Two whalers have arrived within the past fortnight and are 
 lying at the wharf, and one out in the harbor ready to sail for the 
 Pacific on Monday. The arrival or departure of one ship gives Sag 
 Harbor an excuse for going busy, but there are three here now and 
 the business of the town essays New York activity. The financial and 
 commercial importance of Sag Harbor is out of all proportion to its 
 size and population. It has a population of about thirty-five hundred, 
 many dry goods stores, grocery stores, outfitting stores for whalers, with 
 ship chandlery stores and others. Sag Harbor has about $1,000,000 
 invested in the whaling and codfishing business, and has many packets 
 and vessels engaged in the coasting trade. The income from its in- 
 vestments is about $15,000,000 annually; the profits arising therefrom 
 mostly remain in Sag Harbor. Last year there were twenty-five arrivals 
 of successful whalers at the port and thirty-five departures. There 
 were 8,000 quintals of codfish shipped from this port, the result of the 
 codfish enterprise. Sag Harbor is the oldest port of customs in the 
 State of New York and the oldest principality on Long Island. Henry 
 P. Bering was appointed Port Collector by George Washington in 
 1790, which office he held until his death in 1832 at the age of 91. 
 
 The first known settlement within the present corporate limits of 
 
 156 
 
Sag Harbor was by a small party of Narragansett Indians for fishing, 
 about 1697. They were located at the head of the Long Wharf and 
 the junction of what now is Main and Water Streets. The white 
 settlers began to mix in with them in 1730. This settlement was first 
 called Sterling Bay, subsequently changed to Sag Harbor. The country 
 about here was at this time a wilderness, and the settlers were of a 
 low order, engaged in the hardy industry of the sea, living in huts. 
 The settlement increased without order or government; boat whaling 
 was instituted here, and settlers were held together by a community of 
 interests. It soon began to attract attention and a better class of 
 settlers came in, built better dwellings and a church was erected and 
 laws enacted. It became a commercial factor and in 1760 the first 
 sea-going vessel was sent in pursuit of whales, and from 1767 to the 
 present, 1843, Sag Harbor ranked as the second in importance of 
 whaling ports in the United States. There are now sixty-five first 
 class ships engaged in the industry and they have made lively pages in 
 the history of Sag Harbor. The first newspaper printed on Long 
 Island was at Sag Harbor by David Frothingham, called "The Long 
 Island Herald." In 1802 Samuel Osborne published it under the 
 title of "The Suffolk County Herald." In 1804 Alden Spooner took 
 charge and changed its name to "The Suffolk Gazette." Mr. Spooner 
 continued to publish the "Gazette" until 1811, when he removed to 
 Brooklyn and commenced the publication of "The Long Island Star." 
 
 In the course of our conversations with Captain Budd during our 
 stay he made this remark: "That a calamity was imminent with the 
 whaling business. Whales are getting scarce, the profits are getting 
 smaller and the expenses greater, and that he was shortening sail." 
 
 Of the inhabitants of Sag Harbor as a class little can be said. 
 They are just what one would suppose from a population made up in 
 the manner they were; there is no marked famous or infamous class. 
 But there are many learned and cultured people here brought here 
 through interest, and it was this class that gave status and character 
 to Sag Harbor society. There are many wealthy and respectable citizens 
 of Sag Harbor who commenced their career as ordinary seamen and 
 rose to the rank of commanders, who are now retired capitalists, and 
 who still maintain that the highest honors belong to those who have 
 passed and graduated through the curriculum of a voyage around 
 Cape Horn. 
 
 As a school for the study of ethnology and philology New Bedford 
 is the only port in the United States that outranks Sag Harbor. Nearly 
 every insular nation of the globe is represented in their population, and 
 many languages spoken. 
 
 Sunday, July 23, 1843. 
 
 Weather very warm this morning. Took a walk from foot of 
 Main Street up to Jefferson Street, crossed over to the cemetery and 
 back to the hotel, the weather being too hot for an extended ramble. 
 
 157 
 
In the afternoon walked up Division Avenue and Easthampton 
 Turnpike, led on by a feeling of loneliness, the novel scenery, and 
 the many pretty suburban residences, some palatial mansions, many 
 of the little cottages vi^ith graceful verandas and charming green gar- 
 dens, and yet in the midst of all this beauty we w^ere sad; the truth 
 is, vi^e were homesick, and for the first time we began to realize it. 
 We were a long way from home; at least twelve days intervened 
 between us and home and friends. We walked down the turnpike 
 towards East Hampton. Our thoughts must have been kindred to 
 those which moved the young Ishmalite, John Howard Payne, as he 
 stood alone in laughing Paris, in tears, whose ''Home Sweet Home" 
 
 A^^%^^-. 
 
 ,.-^#1^ 
 
 3<>^n\< 
 
 
 «4j. 
 
 has rendered East Hampton, only three miles distant from where we 
 now stand and where Payne was born, immortal. 
 
 Wednesday, July 26, 1843. 
 
 But with all the positive attractions of business, bustle and activity 
 of Sag Harbor, we are repelled by its negative attractions. Its 
 odoriferous atmosphere of whale oil and codfish fail to inspire us, and 
 we seek relief now that we have closed the business which called us here. 
 
 Today we fortuitously made the acquaintance of a Southampton 
 farmer by the name of Bishop who had, he Informed us, just disposed 
 of his load of hay and was about to return to Southampton in ballast, 
 that is, one barrel of molasses and ten bags of shot consigned to a 
 storekeeper at Southampton. We shipped with him for the voyage, of 
 which we sadly repented. His old wagon was without springs and 
 added to the clatter of the shelvings, took all the romance out of the 
 
 158 
 
trip, and when we arrived at Southampton we were too lame to get 
 out of the wagon without assistance. Mr. Bishop, however, very 
 kindly offered to keep us at his home during our stay in Southampton, 
 and at the same time suggested that on Saturday morning he was going 
 to Quogue with a load of straw, and if we so desired, might accompany 
 him to that place, remarking that the roads were heavy and while our 
 carpet bag might have a berth on the straw, we would be obliged to 
 walk a portion of the way. This presented no obstacles to us and we 
 accepted thankfully. 
 
 Thursday, July 27, 1843. 
 
 Our purposes in coming to Southampton, which is a charming 
 place to look upon, were twofold, first, to escape the odors of Sag Har- 
 bor; second, that our ancestors originally settled in Southampton (for- 
 merly Agawam). Southampton was originally settled by a band of 
 fighting Puritans under the leadership of one Captain Daniel How, in 
 1641 (simultaneously with Southold), who came from Lynn and 
 settled at Cow Bay ('T Schouts Baie), from which they were driven 
 by the Ehitch. July 27th and 28th were spent at Southampton in 
 researches and enquiries concerning our family (who came from 
 Ipswich), but reached the conclusion that when the Tred wells left 
 Southampton or Southold they had just cause for so doing, and that 
 they brought everything with them that belonged to them. 
 
 To pass our time as agreeably and profitably as possible with this 
 clever people, we called upon a Justice of the Peace, a very old man 
 and a cyclopedia of history, who had been in office thirty-eight years. 
 He was a twin brother of the sexton; the aggregate of their ages was 
 one hundred and seventy years. It may be interesting to know that the 
 sterling virtues of these two faithful public servants were not likely to 
 be perpetuated in their descendants, they both being bachelors. 
 
 We explored the place pretty thoroughly and were charmed with 
 the evidences of antiquity, cleanliness and holiness which pervaded every- 
 where. But its out-of-door antiquity is "sickened o'er with the pale 
 cast of modernity." New and modern structures were sandwiched in 
 among the old and venerable remains, whose duration is measured by 
 centuries, but the old in the main is master of the field and its antique 
 character is dominant. 
 
 Among the many historic old residences of Southampton the most 
 noted is the Sayre house, located at the junction of Main Street and 
 the road leading to the North Sea and Southold. This old structure 
 was built in 1648 by Thomas Sayre and is tenantable yet. Opposite 
 this are the two notable old houses, one the Pelletreau house and the 
 other known as the Johnes house. Their gables and moss-covered 
 roofs for many succeeding years have shown but little change, save the 
 soft and gentle hand of decay. 
 
 The Sayre house is still in the Sayre family, having passed through 
 six generations of that family. In the line of the Sayre family was one 
 
 159 
 
Stephen Sayre, born in Southampton in 1745. He was conspicuous for 
 his personal beauty. During the American Revolution he was a pro- 
 nounced Whig. He made a visit to England in 1775 as confidential 
 agent of the government. He gained admission to the best society and 
 married an English lady of rank, by whom he obtained a handsome for- 
 tune. He entered into financial and commercial business, which with 
 his engaging manners caused him to be chosen High Sheriff of London. 
 By his advocacy of the American cause and open opposition to the 
 conduct of the Crown he was arrested under a charge of high treason 
 and was thrown into the Tower. Mr. Sayre heard the summons with 
 
 'OxSr^av^fT^oviSt, Ai^\_AA xCMT" 
 
 composure and obeyed its dictators with manly dignity and perfect 
 reliance upon his innocence. He smiled at the malignity of the charge 
 and permitted the officers to search his tables and rifle his bureau. They 
 conducted him to Lord Rochford, where he also found Sir John 
 Fielding. The charge in the writ was that Mr. Sayre had expressed 
 an intention of seizing the King's person as he went to the Parliament 
 House. The charge was not sustained and Mr. Sayre was released, 
 and he prosecuted for a malicious persecution. 
 
 After remaining many years in London as a banker and broker, he 
 came to America and purchased a plantation on the Delaware River 
 at Bordentown, New Jersey, which after his death was purchased by 
 Joseph Bonaparte, formerly King of Spain, upon which he erected a 
 splendid mansion, which is now standing. 
 
 As we had not relished the odors of the Sag Harbor atmosphere, 
 
 160 
 
so we were not in sympathy with the surviving Puritan atmosphere of 
 Southampton, and we resolved to try Quogue. 
 
 Puritanism is a persistent and enduring type of humanity; it is 
 full of godliness and as devoid of manliness. The old rules for training 
 children two hundred years ago prevail today, but children rebel, and 
 once beyond the tyranny of home and church, lose the effects of their 
 unnatural training. With all the eulogisms upon Puritanism, it has but 
 one quality worth perpetuity and that is its persistency, and that has 
 two poles, a positive and a negative, one for good and the other for evil. 
 
 A resolution of the town meeting of 1653 ordered: "That if any 
 person over fourteen years of age shall be convicted of wilful lying by 
 the testimony of two witnesses, he shall be fined five shillings or set in 
 the stocks for five hours." 
 
 They had laws punishing every phase of immorality, for drunken- 
 ness and gambling a fine of ten and sixpence, or three hours in the stocks. 
 The cost of these luxuries to malefactors was to be doubled for a 
 second indulgence, a wonderful commentary on their tendency to crime. 
 
 Saturday, July 29, 1843. 
 
 Had a pleasant trip to Quogue. The walk was less painful than 
 the ride from Sag Harbor to Southampton, and did not leave the 
 results. Have determined to remain at Quogue until the stage leaves 
 on Tuesday. While at Quogue we stopped at the boarding house of 
 Mr. Cooper and fortuitously made the acquaintance of Hon. George 
 Hall, formerly Post Master and Mayor of the City of Brooklyn, who 
 was summering here. We fraternized ; there was a degree of frankness 
 and kindness in Mr. Hall's manner that won our confidence. He has 
 a great consideration for young people. We walked together. 
 
 P. S. — ^And an acquaintance was formed which lasted until Mayor 
 Hall's death in 1868. 
 
 Tuesday, August 1, 1843. 
 
 We were fortunate in securing a back seat in the stage. The 
 romance of the country failed to overcome our weariness and we 
 at once fell asleep and did not awake until we had reached Patchogue, 
 and then hunger awoke us. When we commenced this journey our 
 notes were prolific in detail, but the novelty had worn off and our 
 entries were like Mrs. Palmer's during her travels in the Malay 
 Archipelago. Day after day she entered with painful detail in her 
 diary her personal experiences in earthquakes, but so familiar had she 
 become with the phenomenon that it assumed less and less importance 
 until finally her diary closed day after day with: "Earthquakes as 
 usual." 
 
 The stopping places on the road were reached and passed without 
 comment or recognition until we reached Merrick, when with reckless- 
 ness we offered Dr. Wheeler's farm manager six shillings to carry us 
 to our home about two miles distant. We were joyfully received at 
 
 161 
 
home. We had accomplished a great journey and everybody was glad 
 to see us, and we were happy, having been successful in the purposes 
 of our journey. 
 
 Since the above notes were made, now about forty years 
 ago (1880), Sag Harbor has had her calamity and gone 
 through all the stages of decline, from the highest prosperity 
 down to zero; once started on the toboggan, there is no stop- 
 ping place but the bottom, and Sag Harbor reached it. Not 
 a whaling ship has entered her port in twenty years and grass 
 grew in her streets, her immense warehouses fell into decay, 
 her docks crumbled to ruins and her bustling streets became 
 as silent as the Oracle of Delphi. When Sag Harbor went 
 into decline Southampton also fell into peaceful and pious slum- 
 ber and for the same cause, a decline in the whaling industry. 
 
 But, like Sag Harbor, Southampton awoke one day. 
 Some artists became attracted to the place and modern wealth 
 became interested in its antiquity, simplicity and healthfulness. 
 The Long Island Railroad saw and embraced its opportunity, 
 and Southampton is now one of the most popular summer 
 resorts on Long Island, the Mecca of the invalid. 
 
 A new era also dawned upon Sag Harbor, but on entirely 
 different lines of wealth and beauty. It began a new existence, 
 became the home of luxury and culture ; magnificent residences 
 now adorn its streets and avenues; the sand hills of its suburbs 
 have been converted into boulevards; every variety of mer- 
 chandise may now be procured in its bazaars. Its harbor and 
 bay, once filled with whaling ships, are now filled with yachts 
 and motor boats, and altogether, there is no more charming 
 spot for summer residence, or for the permanent home of the 
 man of leisure and retirement than Sag Harbor. 
 
 Nothing probably since the erection of the first Indian 
 hut within the principality of Sag Harbor has contributed 
 more permanently in sentiment and popularity to its already 
 well-earned reputation than the noble response of Mrs. Russell 
 Sage from her millions to the elevation of its social and educa- 
 tional possibilities and physical adornment. 
 
 162 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Plover.— The Hon. Samuel Latham Mitchill, M.D., LL.D.— The Long 
 Island Railroad. — ^Reduced Postage Rates. 
 
 Saturday, August 12, 1843. 
 
 HERE is nothing remarkable in the great enthusiasm 
 manifested by the early prospectors of this country 
 concerning the resources of Long Island. There was 
 probably no spot in America more prolific in animal life, 
 or more fertile, than "This Fruitful Island near the 
 Continent of Virginia in America named the Isle Plow- 
 don or Long Isle.' " 
 
 The forests were swarming with wild life; bears, wolves, foxes 
 and deer were plentiful even down to within the memory of man ; every 
 variety of game known to the temperate zone flourished here, from the 
 king of wild birds, the turkey, to the tiniest of the feathered creation. 
 
 The waters were teeming with every variety of game, fish, mol- 
 luscs, crustacae, etc.; even the whale and the seal were pursued with 
 profit. Its brooks and streams have furnished the highest standard of 
 trout fishing in the world. Three hundred years of vandalism have 
 wrought great changes in the fauna of the island, and still there is an 
 abundance of game in its uplands, marshes and waters, which rigid 
 protection is necessary to preservation. No season has ever passed 
 within our memory without one good sporting period of eight or ten 
 days on the Great Hempstead Plains shooting the plain plover. 
 
 Some seasons have been much better than others, but there has been 
 a gradual yearly decline. The plover migrates north in the early spring ; 
 he is not much sought after at that time, but on his return in August 
 he is game worthy the nobility of the sporting fraternity. 
 
 There are a great many varieties of the plover. They are insec- 
 tivorous feeders. The plain plover feeds upon grasshoppers and crickets 
 and other insects, of which they consume vast numbers and which 
 accounts for the great excellence of their flesh. It has been pronounced 
 by epicures as equal to that of the woodcock. 
 
 Plover shooting differs from all other forms of sporting in the 
 world. It is a characteristic of the entire plover family {charadrince) to 
 be desperately afraid of man on foot, but entirely indifferent about him 
 if on horseback, or walking at the side of a horse, or in a wagon. And 
 the sportsman who risks his chances on foot, although the plains may 
 be covered with birds, is pretty sure to return with an empty game 
 bag. 
 
 The plover in many respects is a wonderfully stupid bird, yet for 
 
 163 
 
three hundred years his increasing knowledge of the efficacy of pro- 
 jectiles has kept pace with our steady improvement, and he has acquired 
 with marvelous accuracy the range of modern shot guns. A plover 
 feeding in the fields or on the great plains will permit a horse to approach 
 within ten feet of him. But a man on foot, in the open, is fortunate 
 indeed to get within a long gunshot of one in a day's pursuit. 
 
 Therefore successful hunting of the plover depends more in taking 
 advantage of his weaknesses than in good marksmanship. Go on horse- 
 back, in a wagon, or lie in ambush, if you want success. There never 
 has been a season within the memory of man when plover have not 
 been fairly plentiful on the great plains, but the present is an excep- 
 tional one ; in fact, they were never known to be so numerous, and great 
 numbers have been taken not alone on the plains, but in the cultivated 
 farm fields on the South Side, where they had better feeding and 
 better cover. 
 
 Today, Saturday, still on vacation. We have accepted an invita- 
 tion from some South Side friends to accompany them for a day's plover 
 shooting on the great plains. We met them at the place agreed upon 
 in the village, ourselves unequipped, however, for participating in the 
 sport, going simply as a spectator. This was not a company of profes- 
 sional sportsmen, but a party of boys who were fond of shooting. The 
 party, however, was rounded up by one professional gunner, who gun- 
 ned for a living, and who knew the habits and call of every game bird 
 on Long Island — Bob Akeley; we were under Akeley's charge. 
 
 We made our camp about halfway across the great plains north- 
 east of Hempstead on a hollow that filled up with water in winter. 
 
 Our journey to the ground along the plain edge was enlivened 
 by the presence of thousands of larks. We never saw so many, but they 
 seemed to follow us always at a respectful distance, however. The 
 larks are gathering here from the north and will not move south until 
 October unless a cold snap comes sooner. We also passed several 
 parties on foot, or horseback and in wagons on the same errand as 
 ourselves, their destination being farther east. 
 
 It must be remembered that the Hempstead plains is more than a 
 mere potato patch. It embraces sixty square miles within its limits, 
 and as a play and feeding ground for plover fifteen or twenty square 
 miles of private territory adjoining may be added, the latter of which 
 for feeding and hiding is more serviceable to the plover than the former. 
 
 On reaching our camp and after rigging a blind with the long 
 dry plain grass around a hole which had been used for the same purpose 
 some previous season, we set out the decoys, tied our horses to stakes 
 with about thirty feet of halter, that they might graze at their leisure, 
 and awaited results. One of our horses was accustomed to a gun. He 
 knew its meaning and did not flinch if discharged over his shoulders; 
 the other was too nervous to be of service. 
 
 Two of our party were alternately to occupy the blind, the others 
 
 164 
 
to remain in, or under, the wagon. The birds were apparently indif- 
 ferent, for they gave us a wide berth. After a period, however, four 
 plover had espied the decoys and came with set wing directly for them. 
 Just as they huddled (as is their habit) before lighting, a discharge from 
 the blind dropped all four. It was impossible for the tenants of the 
 wagon to restrain applause and a shout went up from the wagon. In 
 half a second the air was thick with birds; they got up from everywhere. 
 
 This was the commencement of the day's sport, which lasted about 
 three hours, the birds coming along in bunches of from two to ten. 
 The day's work resulted in bagging eighty-two birds. It had been a 
 restless day for the plain plover. There were many gunners and an 
 incessant firing was going on. Some of it was miles away, others nearer. 
 We could see persons on horseback a mile oflF; others in wagons, and 
 some lonely fellows on foot, the latter doing good execution. There 
 were so many birds on the wing that their chances, providing the 
 hunter could hide, were as good as those encumbered with horses. 
 
 On our way home we fell in with a party from Jamaica with 
 trained horses. They had had a great day's sport, and had taken over 
 a hundred birds, but had been disappointed in the efficacy of their horses, 
 which was due to the fact that so many birds were in motion. 
 
 The plain plover is a bird of broad wing and slow pinion move- 
 ments. It makes slides through the air, but gets over the ground much 
 more rapidly than it seems with his kind of jerky movement, and the 
 gunner who is ambitious to take him on the wing is up against a prob- 
 lem fit for no sloven. Many game birds on flushing are intent only 
 on getting away and they go straight from you. That's an easy 
 problem, but the plover has a foolish curiosity to see the cause of his 
 alarm, and he starts up at an angle crossing your longitude; that's 
 another proposition, and as a reward for your skill, if an amateur, you 
 are likely to secure a few tail feathers for your pains. 
 
 The stupid plover decoys easily. He has not wit enough to dis- 
 tinguish between the decoy of the yellow leg snipe and one of his own 
 species. They spy the decoy at a great distance and they come sweep- 
 ing down in their rough and tumble flight all in a heap before lighting; 
 then is the time to fire. 
 
 Akeley's plover call did not seem to avail much; it was very 
 weak. Their plaintive notes are not easily imitated by the human 
 voice, and the plover detects the counterfeit very readily. He does 
 not use his voice much in his day flights, but at night during the migrat- 
 ing season we have heard them at all hours. It is a plaintive "tucksct — 
 peetweet." 
 
 This has been a delightful day's outing. We had a mess of our 
 birds served at Hewlett's Hotel. The whole day's sport was accom- 
 plished between the rising and the setting of the sun. 
 
 We love the country, the fields, the freedom, the air, the sun- 
 shine; this love is instinctively born within us, and docs not wear out. 
 
 165 
 
\ye turn to the open blue sky with an instinct as keen and akin to that 
 displayed by a city-bred dog in trying to bury his bone deep in the 
 hearthrug of his unnatural environment. 
 
 t^7^a/?n^ooe/^ ^£x^j. 
 
 J 
 
Wednesday, September 20, 1843. 
 
 My father in looking over and rearranging his old papers today in 
 my presence, passed an occasional one over for me to read. Of the 
 latter was an invitation to attend a dinner to be given by Hempstead 
 farmers in honor of Samuel Latham Mitchill, M.D., LL.D., who had 
 only a year previous retired from the professorship of agriculture in 
 Columbia College. The dinner was to be given at Sammis' Tavern,* 
 
 0\^ ^atnTn**?* Ho^fcV. 
 
 Hempstead, October 12, 1803. 
 Rockaway." 
 
 The invitation was signed ''Hewlett, 
 
 * The Sammis Tavern is located on the North Side of the Turnpike Road 
 extending through Long Island, east and west, and is located in the Village of 
 Hempstead. It was built by Nehemiah Sammis in 1680, and is probably one 
 of the oldest, if not the oldest inn in the United States. It has consequently 
 been standing about 200 years continuously in the Sammis family. The 
 grandfather and father of the present owner were born on the premises. The 
 inn was used by the British officers as their headquarters during the Revolu- 
 tion. The people of Hempstead were generally loyal to England and were 
 treated by the British with great consideration. The farmers were paid for 
 their produce in British gold. After the Revolution Washington visited this old 
 inn and testified his satisfaction of the accommodations and hospitality of the 
 home. This was in 1788 when Washington was on his way to New York City 
 to attend the Federal celebration. He came across the Sound, landing at 
 Lloyd's Neck and drove across the plains accompanied by a body guard of 
 fifty young men of Oyster Bay. 
 
 Daniel Webster spent the night there on his way to Babylon during 
 the campaign of 1851. His name is found on the register. Much historical 
 interest attaches to this old tavern, much of which although extremely inter- 
 esting does not come within the limits of this note. 
 
 When I first knew the venerable old inn it was under the management 
 
 167 
 
My father seemed pleased with the consideration which had been 
 paid to him by this invitation, he then having just entered his majority, 
 being twenty-three years of age, but was an active farmer of the town. 
 
 He gave me the following facts concerning Dr. Mitchill. He 
 believed him to have been a great man, a native of Hempstead, and had 
 worked himself up by self-education to a doctor and a lawyer, and 
 had held many honorable positions, and that he had rendered great 
 service to the farmers of Long Island. He had been dead about ten 
 years. 
 
 No higher tribute could be paid to any man by my father than he 
 paid to Dr. Mitchill. He was the greatest man he ever knew, and he 
 had a great many sides. 
 
 He spoke of the address at the dinner as characterized by much 
 serious thought, interspersed with great humor. 
 
 In looking over the above entry in our journal of 1843, 
 in 1884, it occurred to us that history had not awarded the 
 full measure of prominence to which he. Professor Mitchill, 
 was justly entitled as a scientist, a scholar and a politician. 
 
 Samuel Latham Mitchill was born at Hempstead, August 
 20, 1764. He was the son of a Quaker farmer. He spent a 
 life of great and varied intellectual activity, and died Septem- 
 ber 7, 1831, in the City of New York. After considerable 
 preparation at home, of an elementary character, he com- 
 pleted his education at the University of Edinburgh and grad- 
 uated an M. D. in 1786. He was the classmate of Sir James 
 Macintosh and Thomas Addis Emmett. On his return to his 
 native town he studied law in the office of Robert Yates and 
 was appointed in 1788 a commissioner to treat with the Iro- 
 quois Indians, who were making much trouble with the Eng- 
 lish settlers on Long Island and elsewhere. 
 
 As professor of applied chemistry in Columbia College 
 
 of Nehemiah Sammis, a grandson of the original Nehemiah. He was a typical 
 English landlord as the old house was a typical English inn. It was a won- 
 derfully preserved institution. 
 
 It was in the parlor of this old house that the greater portion of the 
 names were attached to that celebrated petition — "To the Right Honorable 
 Richard, Lord Viscount Howe, and to His Excellency the Honorable William 
 Howe Esquire General of His Majesty's Colonies in America." 
 
 "The humble Representatives and Petition of the Freeholders and In- 
 habitants of Queens County on the Island of Nassau in the Province of New 
 York." Here followed the petition dated Queens County, October 21, 1776, and 
 signed by twelve hundred and eighty (1280) citizens of Queens County. 
 
 168 
 
he first introduced into America the new nomenclature of 
 Lavoisier. His ingenious theory septon and septic acid, says 
 Dr. Frances, gave great impetus to the chemical researches of 
 Sir Humphry Davy. Geology and zoology, however, were 
 his favorite studies. He was a correspondent of Cuvier. 
 "Show me a scale," said he, "and I will give you the portrait 
 of a fish." 
 
 In 1790, and again in 1797, he was elected to the New 
 York Legislature. In 1796, he explored the valley of the 
 Hudson and the Mohawk and made some careful scientific 
 investigations in the valley of the Mississippi. He was elected 
 to Congress in 1801 and served until 1804. He accompanied 
 Fulton on his first trip of the "Clermont" up the Hudson in 
 1807. Was appointed United States Senator and served until 
 1809, and with Thomas Jefferson examined the bones of the 
 mammoth (mastodon) brought from Bone Lick, the great 
 mausoleum of extinct monsters. He was professor of natural 
 history, chemistry and agriculture in Columbia College from 
 1792 to 1802. In 1803 he was associated with Chancellor 
 Robert R. Livingston and Simeon DeWitt in the establish- 
 ment of a society for the promotion of agriculture. 
 
 He was professor of natural history and botany from 
 1808 to 1820; professor of botany and materia medica from 
 1820 to 1826. John Randolph said of him that he was the 
 "Congressional library of his day." 
 
 Cobbett, for seven years resident in the Ludlow mansion 
 at Hyde Park, said of Dr. Mitchill that he was "a man more 
 full of knowledge and less conscious of it than I ever knew." 
 
 He was vice-president of Rutgers Medical College, New 
 York City, in 1826; president of the New York County 
 Society in 1807; surgeon-general of the militia under Governor 
 DeWitt Clinton; president of the Lyceum of Natural History, 
 New York City, and physician to the New York Hospital 
 from 1796 to 1817. 
 
 He was a serious student, and still was one of the most 
 versatile of men. He delivered a lecture before the "Krout 
 
 12 169 
 
Club" of New York at a dinner. This club was composed 
 of descendants from the original settlers! In this address he 
 dilated upon the great merits and nature of the cabbage, it 
 being the emblem of the club, its value to agriculturalists, its 
 succulent properties and its high significance as an emblem of 
 this great Krout Club, and why not the cabbage — the rose — 
 the lily — -the thistle — the shamrock — the onion and the leek 
 are all emblems of greatness. 
 
 He made an address before the Turtle Club of solid men 
 at Hoboken. 
 
 His geologic insight in recognizing America as the older 
 world and American races the probable ancestors of all other 
 peoples was a mark of great originality of thought and great 
 boldness to assert. He delivered the annual oration of the 
 Phi Beta Kappa Society of Union College in 1821. He deliv- 
 ered the address dedicating the iron fence around the City 
 Hall Park on December 31, 1821. 
 
 On the completion of the Erie Canal it was Dr. Mitchill 
 who delivered the address, November 4, 1825. 
 
 Dr. Mitchill was assigned the highest rank among the 
 cultivators of natural science. He increased the knowledge of 
 ichthyology of the State of New York by adding two hundred 
 new species in 1814 and 1817. He was the friend and asso- 
 ciate of Cuvier and Audubon. 
 
 He was a large contributor to the scientific literature of 
 his day; many of his productions have fallen into unmerited 
 oblivion. He was called the Nestor of American science. 
 
 Halleck immortalized him in the "Croaker." 
 
 This little tribute we offer to the memory of one of the 
 greatest of American products. 
 
 Tuesday, October 17, 1843. 
 
 Accompanied my father yesterday to Hempstead to hear the 
 address of Hon. Daniel S. Dickinson before the Agricultural Society 
 of Queens County. A great crowd was present, as many probably out 
 of curiosity to see the orator as to hear the oration. Dickinson was a 
 
 170 
 
State Senator at thirty-five, and he is now Lieutenant-Governor of 
 New York. 
 
 The address was delivered under a tent erected for that purpose. 
 Daniel S. Dickinson was a truly great man, as shown in 
 after life. He sunk all party preferences during the Civil war 
 and supported the government in its efforts to put down law- 
 lessness. He was a Democrat of the '*01d Hunken" brand. 
 He represented New York State in the United States Senate 
 from 1844 to 1851, voted with the Democrats in the Wilmot 
 Proviso and all the slavery questions, became attorney-general 
 in New York in 1861, acted with the Union Republican party 
 during the Civil war, was made district attorney of the south- 
 ern district of New York by President Lincoln in 1865, and 
 died in 1866. He was born in Connecticut. 
 
 Sunday, March 17, 1844. 
 
 Resolved on spending the day, Sunday, at the old homestead. 
 
 The morning ushered in cold, drizzly and foggy. Nothing can 
 be more uncomfortable without, or cheerless within. But the day is 
 eminently suited to our purpose. We have prepared to make ourselves 
 comfortable within, having secured a copy of the interdicted book 
 anonymously published, entitled "Vestiges of the Natural History of 
 Creation," just published in December, 1843. This book has been 
 proscribed in our schools as one unfit for students to read. Now, in 
 order to learn just what class of book is unfit for students to read, we 
 are going to read this book, and we may, or may not, commend the 
 wisdom of the trustees in taking it out of our library; a rebuke as 
 scathing as the keenness of the insult of the trustees may result. 
 Saturday, July 27, 1844. 
 
 After long and tedious delays and disappointments the Long Island 
 Railroad was this day opened from South Ferry, Brooklyn, to Green- 
 port, the east end of Long Island. It had heretofore been in operation 
 to Hicksville only. 
 
 The Long Island Railroad was one of the earliest chartered rail- 
 roads in the United States. The first charter, covering territory over 
 which the road now holds jurisdiction, was in 1832, which was for a 
 road extending from the South Ferry, City of Brooklyn, to Jamaica. 
 All the rights and assets of this road merged into the Long Island 
 Railroad Company, which was organized under a special act of the 
 Legislature in 1834, ten years ago, and today formally declared opened 
 from the East River at South Ferry, Brooklyn, to the Village of 
 Greenport, Suffolk County. 
 
 During the years 1836 and subsequently up to 1844, the Long 
 Island Railroad had been completed and was in operation as far as 
 
 171 
 
Hicksville only. The great financial panic of 1837, which paralyzed 
 business and brought ruin upon thousands of old substantial institutions 
 and firms, did not spare the Long Island Railroad. Consequently, all 
 improvement was stayed, and it just barely continued to exist and pull 
 through the embarrassed state of the financial world, running with 
 contemplated regularity upon the completed track to Hicksville from 
 South Ferry. Its prospects, however, were such as to inspire no confi- 
 dence in the future or present stability. It was operated with vaguely 
 defined timetables and no well determined intermediate stations. It 
 had three locomotives only, the Ariel, Plowboy and Hicksville. We 
 remember them very well; they seemed marvelous structures to us. 
 
 My father's family during this period patronized this road. We 
 took the train at a station called Obesville, Clowesville, about one mile 
 west of Mineola, by driving over with our team. This station had 
 been furnished with a waiting room for the shelter of passengers and 
 a horse-shed, and it was an important station. All the travel of the 
 Village of Hempstead and surrounding country north and south 
 patronized the station until 1840, when the branch known as Hemp- 
 stead Branch, now Mineola, was created to the Village of Hempstead. 
 
 Nothing can be said in commendation of the equipments of the 
 road during this period. The earliest coaches were constructed after 
 the pattern of the English road coach. One of these coaches is now 
 in the company's shed at Hempstead. The conductor collected fares 
 from the outside of the car. We have seen fifty passengers at a time 
 strolling about the plains in the immediate neighborhood of the road, 
 while their train was on a sidetrack waiting for an up-train. 
 
 An hour's detention in a case of this kind was not an uncommon 
 thing. 
 
 Matters, however, have improved very rapidly on this road since 
 the extension of the road to Greenport. The old English coaches have 
 been superceded by a more commodious car constructed purely upon 
 an American idea. Great improvements have also been made in the 
 running time of the trains. 
 
 Notwithstanding the financial depression of the country and the 
 crippled condition of the company, they did succeed in maintaining the 
 road and making some improvements shortly after the above mentioned 
 period in 1837-38. A collision took place between the engine Ariel 
 and Plowboy, which resulted in putting the Plowboy out of commis- 
 sion. The company not feeling justified in procuring a new engine, 
 the road was operated with the two remaining engines and the only 
 alternate adopted of decreasing the number of trips per day or discon- 
 tinue entirely.* 
 
 * These were among the earliest locomotives built in this country, and the 
 old Ariel or Hicksville, I am not certain which, is still or was recently (1888) 
 doing menial and servile service in a kindling wood factory at Greenpoint, 
 having been but slightly remodeled, the old vertical cylinder and walking beam 
 still in operation. 
 
 172 
 
In 1840, as the financial atmosphere cleared up, a new impetus 
 moved the company and they borrowed $100,000, built a branch road 
 from Mineola, Hempstead Branch, to the Village of Hempstead, and 
 completed the trunk line to Greenport. This began a new era in the 
 history of the Long Island Railroad. 
 
 The branch road to Hempstead was a great financial success. It 
 entered a territory covered by a large population and vastly increased 
 the passenger traffic, besides being greatly important in the carriage 
 of freight. 
 
 The tracks in the Village of Hempstead were originally laid through 
 the center of Main Street and terminated at the store of S. C. & I. 
 Snedeker on Front Street. 
 
 The departure of each train was announced by a man in the street 
 with a hand bell, who walked up and down the street proclaiming that 
 "This train will leave in ( ) minutes." This terminus has since 
 been removed to the head of Main Street, on the west side, near the 
 Sammis Hotel, and a commodious passenger and freight station con- 
 structed there. (Since then removed to Fulton Street, east from Main 
 Street.) 
 
 New life seems to have burst from the old conservative 
 managers of the road. Other branch roads have been con- 
 structed or contemplated, both north and south from the main 
 trunk road. 
 
 Immediately on the completion of the road to Greenport 
 a line of steamers was contracted to be put in service between 
 Greenport and New London in the early part of 1845, thus 
 at once constituting a continuous line for mail and passenger 
 service from New York to Boston. This promises to be a 
 very popular and successful enterprise, and the Long Island 
 Railroad an Institution which all Long Island may regard 
 with pride. But the road has only just entered upon Its career 
 of usefulness and profit. The conveniences offered to prospec- 
 tive settlers seeking country homes along the line of the road 
 were very great, and already new settlements were springing 
 into being and old ones being augmented by the great In- 
 crease of population. All this will militate greatly to the ad- 
 vantage of the railroad and Increase the value of real estate 
 everywhere along the line of the road. 
 
 If the company now becomes thoroughly alive to its 
 opportunities and acts generously with Its patrons, the time is 
 
 173 
 
not distant when instead of four trains of small capacity daily, 
 it will require forty each of four times the capacity to accom- 
 modate its patrons. 
 
 Tuesday J August 1, 1844. 
 
 Our annual family picnic to Long Beach took place yesterday and 
 met with the usual success and satisfaction to all concerned. An inter- 
 esting feature of yesterday's picnic was that we were accompanied by 
 some of our relatives from the West, now on a visit here, who had 
 never before seen the ocean. At the first sight of the ocean from the 
 beach hills they stood spellbound and never grew weary in watching the 
 waves rolling in and breaking upon the beach. It was to them the 
 most delightful day of their lives. 
 
 These relatives are cousins, of the Barwise family, whose parents 
 moved out West before they were born. This is their first visit. They 
 had heard their parents speak of the beach and ocean, but they had 
 formed no conception of its grandeur. 
 
 Altogether, the day was most charmingly passed. The sun shone 
 with intense fierceness, which resulted in some blistered arms and necks 
 of indiscreet persons. 
 
 January to April, 1845. 
 
 During the past winter the journal received but little attention. 
 We were much interested in our school studies and the journal was 
 neglected, except school matters which have no status in this relation. 
 
 There were, nevertheless, several commonplace entries of ordinary 
 events, which may be summarized as follows: 
 
 There had been extremely cold weather, of which there were 
 several entries, and frequent and heavy falls of snow. The snow fell 
 in such quantities and became so much drifted on the main road between 
 our house and Uncle John Tredwell's that travel was suspended and 
 we were obliged to take down our fences and permit the public to go 
 through the lot in front of our house. Teams and loaded sleighs made 
 a highway over the mill pond on the ice, on which they continued to 
 travel for a period of five consecutive weeks, the ice being two feet 
 thick, and teams travelled on the ice of the South Bay from the main- 
 land to the beach, and yet people say: "We don't have any of the old- 
 fashioned winters of former times." We know there are accounts from 
 the old colonial days of great hardship endured by the early settlers in 
 consequence of the severity of the winters, and from all accounts it does 
 appear that as the land was opened up to cultivation and the forests 
 cleared away the climate moderated, for if experience, aided by mem- 
 ory, can be depended upon, the winters do seem to have modified since 
 the days of our grandfathers. 
 
 There were also random comments in the journal during 
 
 174 
 
the winter upon the reprehensible conduct of certain shadowy 
 beings who, It was said, held receptions at indefinite intervals 
 In the midst of the tombstones of the private family burying 
 ground on the* farm of George Smith on the north side of the 
 Merrick road, just west of his residence and in an old unten- 
 anted house on the south side of the road. 
 
 This was not a new thing; the reputation of this neigh- 
 borhood for being haunted was of years' standing. 
 
 The surroundings were not calculated to stimulate cheer- 
 ful emotions at any time, and of a dark night it was extremely 
 pokerlsh. We never passed through there after dark without 
 a shudder and a feeling of relief as we left the old spook- 
 rldden abode behind. It was an ideal camping ground for 
 ghosts and other unclean things, and the gossip of the place 
 was full of their pranks. The ground was low and swampy; 
 a little stream ran through It near the old house. A graveyard 
 on the north side of the road and the old house about two 
 hundred feet off the road on the south side, in which, it is 
 said, a woman had been murdered years ago. It was not an 
 old house; It had been built about twenty years and was erected 
 by a doctor who came from New York and who was said to 
 have been very rich. He lived in It about three years, when 
 he mysteriously disappeared, out of which grew strange rumors. 
 
 The house had been without doors or windows for many 
 years. The winds, rains and snows of summer and winter 
 invaded its interior, but it stood in defiance of the elements. 
 
 Both sides of the road at this point were densely over- 
 grown with trees, oaks, sassafras, pepperidge, etc., and an 
 Impenetrable tangle of shrubbery, wild grape vines and cat- 
 briers. Associate such a landscape If you can with one o'clock 
 A. M., a pale moon, a moaning wind and a hooting owl, and 
 you have all the physical accessories for the construction of 
 an ideal ghost colony, with a frisky celebrity for novelties in 
 that line of goods. 
 
 The testimony of Abby Raynor, a spinster of sixty, who 
 
 175 
 
lived in sight of the haunted house, was that many times 
 during the last and previous winters she had seen through 
 the open windows light in the old house at night and persons 
 passing and repassing from room to room ^nd performing 
 queer antics. They did not remain long. She had no doubt 
 but that the figures she saw were ghosts or that the old house 
 was haunted. 
 
 In the early part of December, 1844, a very respectable 
 old man named Jacob Smith, a small farmer, living on the 
 north side of the Merrick road in the immediate neighborhood 
 of the old house, was annoyed by frequently having his grain 
 stacks torn down and the sheaves scattered about the yard 
 during nights. Many people of the place said it was the work 
 of the ghosts or spirits who frequented the old house, and 
 that the annoyance to Mr. Smith was an act of revenge for 
 the offensive and scandalous language he had used concerning 
 them. But the old man Smith knew otherwise. He never 
 bore testimony of ghosts, and any reference to them threw 
 him into a furious passion. And he resolved to solve the 
 problem himself, so he loaded his old flintlock fowling piece 
 and watched several nights. Finally, about ten o'clock one 
 night he saw a person come stealthily out of the woods and 
 enter the yard and go directly to the grain stacks and com- 
 mence taking the sheaves off and scatter them about the yard, 
 and finally taking three sheaves under each arm, was going 
 off with them. Mr. Smith called to him to lay down the 
 oats. He said nothing, but kept on. Mr. Smith told him to 
 lay down the oats or he would shoot. ^'Shoot and be d — d,'' 
 said the ghost, at the same time making an effort to hold the 
 sheaf of oats to protect his head. Mr. Smith did shoot, with 
 the result that a neighbor by the name of E — H was con- 
 fined to his house with a sickness never reported to the health 
 board. 
 
 The grain stacks were never molested after that. And 
 yet there were people in the community who preferred the 
 mysterious, and who did not believe the old man's story. The 
 
 176 
 
evidence of the truth of which, however, was a scar diagonally 
 across E — H's left cheek inflicted by a number two buck 
 shot. This scar he carried to his grave as a souvenir and 
 damning proof that he was a thief and no ghost. 
 
 Now while there has been a great decline in ghostology, 
 still there is a survival of the faith from past ages smouldering 
 among all people of Puritan origin. 
 
 To those trained in infancy by their nurses in an 
 atmosphere of nursery tales of spooks and hobgoblins, assim- 
 ilate notions which no amount of after culture or training will 
 entirely eliminate. The dread of dark and dismal places as 
 the above described is plainly the ill effects of early inocu- 
 lations. 
 
 We remember when a child and sometimes disobedient, 
 being threatened that "Old Black Steve" would carry us off 
 if we were naughty. Now, Old Black Steve was a manumitted 
 slave, an encumbrance on the neighboring estate of Tredwell 
 Seaman. He frequently passed our house, always drunk, 
 sometimes singing Methodist hymns, sometimes praying. 
 People used to say that it was a great sin to sell rum to old 
 Steve — but why? His skin was black; he was ill looking; his 
 name was a terror to children; everybody tried to make him 
 odious, and rum was the only comfort he had. We became 
 dreadfully afraid of him; he was our spook and our ghost. 
 
 But Old Steve lived long enough and we became discrim- 
 inating enough before he died to enshrine him In our memory 
 as one of the gentlest and most harmless men on earth. Kin- 
 dred to this Is the stuff of which ghosts are created. 
 
 In tracing along the history of delusions In search for 
 origins or beginnings, we find them wonderfully prevalent in 
 the Greek and Roman periods. Plato, Diodorus, Sicylus, 
 Empedocles and Plutarch, and they charge the Egyptians with 
 being their informants, and Egypt turns It over to India. 
 The Adittyas of the Hindoos were the children of night and 
 were modified in more recent times of Grecian and Roman 
 
 177 
 
mythology into demons, beneficent beings, spirits, ghosts, mes- 
 sengers of the gods, etc. 
 
 That the ghosts of the dead should minister to the bene- 
 fit of the living was a noble and beautiful idea, but these 
 beneficent beings in after ages became to have an evil signifi- 
 cation. All ghosts within the historic period have been har- 
 bingers of evil. 
 
 These ancient Greek and Roman philosophers exercised 
 great influence over the popular human mind contemporaneous 
 with them and a greater influence subsequently over the intelli- 
 gent mind. We cannot entirely eliminate the early respect we 
 entertained for those superstitions, fictions and myths breathed 
 into our best life with our classical training. 
 
 There is nothing so remarkable or noteworthy about 
 these stories of Raynortown ghosts as to distinguish them from 
 any other ghost story in any part of the world, or of any age. 
 They are the same stock in trade of the vendor of ghost 
 literature from the remotest time. The spectres, the subjects 
 of the present writing, sometimes appeared in the graveyard, 
 but more frequently in the old house, where their evolutions 
 were more in evidence through the open windows and doors, 
 sometimes on the roof of the old house, than in the graveyard. 
 They were always clad decently in vapory white. Sometimes 
 they performed in the old house with a fire on the hearth. 
 This made a very weird scene to the spectator. They made 
 a great noise, sometimes accompanied with the fife and drum, 
 and other times the clanking of chains. 
 
 None of their sessions were of more than fifteen minutes' 
 duration. These short sessions gave but little opportunity to 
 have their movements studied by experts, and there was no 
 time to summon detectives or officers for their capture; few 
 people even among those who knew they were frauds cared to 
 attack them single handed, or to provoke any closer acquaint- 
 ance. They were seldom seen by any person who could, or 
 did, give an intelligent account of what they saw. Eye-wit- 
 nesses seem to have become so paralyzed by fear as to loose 
 
 178 
 
the capacity of reason or discernment, and their statements 
 were as unsatisfactory and shadowy as the ghosts themselves. 
 
 These gruesome seances were generally in silence; some- 
 times, however, they were guilty of rollicking, uncourtly and 
 vulgar behavior. Visitations were not frequent enough to 
 cause alarm. They came, however, when least expected. 
 
 Intelligent citizens paid little or no regard to the ridicu- 
 lous stories. But to a certain portion of the community these 
 frightful phantoms were certainly demoralizing, as premoni- 
 tions of sickness and d^ath. 
 
 All these stories were, of course, hearsay. Not one in 
 fifty of the mediums of their propagation had ever seen any- 
 thing themselves. It was they principally who invented, multi- 
 plied and gave importance to these stories and pretended with 
 an air of mystery that they were portentlous of evil to some- 
 one. This caused the mischief. 
 
 There were in the pre-Columbian times many legends of 
 evil spirits, or ghosts, among the Algonklns of this section of 
 Long Island, one of which has survived to modern times. It 
 was as follows. It was called the Winged Head : 
 
 This legend relates that one night a widow sat alone 
 In her cabin and In a little fire near the door she was roasting 
 acorns and taking them from the burning embers and eating 
 them for her evening meal. She did not see the ghost, Winged 
 Head, who stood In the doorway grinning at her. Finally, 
 the ghost stealthily reached forth one of his long claws and 
 snatched some of the coals of fire and thrust them into its 
 mouth, thinking these were what the widow was eating. 
 
 With a howl and In great pain. It rushed out of the hut 
 and disappeared, since which time no ghosts have appeared to 
 the red man on Long Island. 
 
 More than four-fifths of the current ghost gossip of 
 Raynortown was the Invention of mischievous persons who 
 gave it out with a grave and mysterious air regardless of truth. 
 The other fifth was an exaggerated account of a real perform- 
 ance of some mooncalf personating ghosts. And it never 
 
 179 
 
failed when interest lagged and ghost stock declined that a 
 new incarnation did not follow. Thus, the ghost literature 
 managed to survive. 
 
 The good people of the neighborhood who gave no heed 
 to these manifestations except to ridicule and denounce them 
 had nevertheless been more than usually annoyed and scan- 
 dalized for the last six months about appearances in the old 
 house, and had resolved that an end must be put to it, but were 
 restrained from using stringent measures, as firearms, for 
 fear of injuring some fool of the neighborhood, which might 
 lead to serious regrets. Bullets, they say, will have no effect 
 on real ghosts. 
 
 April 10, 1845. 
 
 The past has been an active winter in ghost demonstrations, not 
 of the blood-curdling, but of the spooney-brained brood; none of the 
 horrors of Grimm, where Hans plays at ten pins with a ghost using 
 thigh bones for pins and skulls for balls, nor of the Weir Wolf kind, 
 but mostly quiet, peaceable pantomime, old-fashioned spooks who were 
 satisfied with being on exhibition and the subjects of conversation and 
 the terror of the old women and children of the neighborhood. 
 
 They sang plaintive songs, imitated owls, cats and other animals. 
 
 These entertainments, which at intervals had lasted all winter, did 
 not occupy more than fifteen minutes at any one seance, and the ghosts 
 were off. 
 
 But finally these visitations became so frequent and flagrant that 
 Jim Raynor and Tom Southard, two plucky yeomen of Raynortown, 
 who feared not the devil, and ghosts less, had planned to entrap these 
 ghosts, or pigwidgeons, and after laying in unsuccessful ambush several 
 times during the spring, concluded that their movements were com- 
 municated to the would-be phantoms, for whenever they were out 
 spook hunting no spooks appeared. They changed their tactics, and on 
 April 10th they entrapped the Mephistotelian shadows. 
 
 The capture was accomplished by stretching a rope across the only 
 exit from the premises (the old house) while the ghosts were within, 
 then giving an alarm. The ghosts in their haste to escape to the swamp 
 tripped over the rope and over each other and their captors fell upon 
 them. One, however, escaped; the other was captured and when 
 brought to the light materialized into a simple fellow well known in 
 the neighborhood, whose inordinate love for sensation had impelled 
 to this act of assuming the role of ghost, which he had been acting for 
 a long time without any unpleasant complications to the present, but 
 who had on the present occasion evidently struck a storm centre, for it 
 
 180 
 
is said he was pretty roughly handled by his captors. He was put on 
 exhibition with his ghost toggery on at the store of Riley Raynor at 
 Raynortown, on the second floor of which Squire Smith held his court. 
 The Justice was sent for, before whom a charge was made of disturb- 
 ing the public peace. After a hearing he was set at liberty on his own 
 recognizance and a promise to transgress no more. Raynor and South- 
 ard were complimented by the Court. 
 
 But the capture and exposure did in no degree lessen the number 
 of believers in ghosts and the supernatural; the faith continued. Exhi- 
 bitions, however, ceased. 
 
 The only apology we have to make for taking the reader's 
 time with these ridiculous ghost stories and comments is the 
 entry in the diary, and nothing less could have been said about 
 them, if said at all; and, secondly, that by calling attention, 
 some interested student in folk lore, or local tradition, might 
 be stimulated to an interest in the subject and collect in aid 
 to science this literature, of which the country is full, but which 
 must soon become extinct. 
 
 In all communities of New England paternity — a people 
 so noted for rugged common sense and personal grit — both 
 solubles of ghost stories, there still remains a lingering belief 
 among the lowly in these fallacious tales of ghosts and witches, 
 in lucky and unlucky days and lucky numbers and many other 
 ridiculous beliefs. We are astounded at the number of people 
 we meet who will begin no enterprise on Friday. 
 
 To an extent by no means creditable to the former 
 dwellers on the territory covered by these reminiscences, par- 
 ticularly the necks, haunted localities and ghost stories pre- 
 vailed; every old, deserted structure and untenanted building 
 was the subject of some strange spook story or supernatural 
 legend purely of the imagination. 
 
 Nor were these Utopian conceptions confined to the lower 
 orders in past times, for there were ghosts of quality of the 
 higher orders, as Caesar's ghost, Banquo's ghost, ghost of 
 Hamlet's father, the pumpkin-headed spectre of Sleepy Hol- 
 low, Skeleton in Armor, the Flying Dutchman, Headless 
 Horseman, Boucicault's Vampire, the Mysteries of Udolpho. 
 
 181 
 
These were dignified spectres who had modes of behavior of 
 their own and were not a loquacious set — for 
 
 No ghost of common sense 
 Maintains a conversation. 
 
 — CarrolVs Phantom, 
 
 According to Olaus Magnus, the northern nations re- 
 garded ghosts as gnomes, or departed spirits, who for the 
 commission of some crime were doomed to wander up and 
 down the earth for a certain period. 
 
 All the great historical ghost scenes are laid in the regions 
 of ice and snow; high latitudes are the productive hives of 
 legend, myth, dream, visions, fairy and saga tales. No country 
 is more productive than Iceland in fairy lore. The Finns 
 were a very superstitious people. 
 
 Thursday, March 6, 1845. 
 
 On the third of the present March an act was passed by Con- 
 gress reducing the rates of postage on letters to five cents for all dis- 
 tances under three hundred miles, and all over that distance ten cents. 
 This will be a great boon to the poor man. It is he that is specially 
 benefitted by it. The rich man don't care. And yet this measure 
 of cheap postage has been for years persistently opposed by the leaders 
 of the Democratic party, the avowed friends of the poor man. 
 
 The southern states have taken the lead in resisting cheap postage, 
 notwithstanding not a state in the south ever paid its own postage, their 
 deficiencies being paid by the North. Edward Everitt began the agita- 
 tion for the reduction of postage in 1836. Virginia opposed it; the 
 surplus of Massachusetts was just equal to Virginia's shortage. Vir- 
 ginia believed that under a reduced rate the shortage would be greater. 
 Edward Everitt believed it would be enough greater in Massachusetts 
 to pay it. 
 
 It is well for people to know to whom they are indebted for bless- 
 ings; to what party they are indebted for the foresight and statesman- 
 ship to accomplish great reforms. Low postage is a Whig measure and 
 we shall see how it works. 
 
 As to our case individually (our family), we have been sending 
 and receiving letters from our relatives in the West at a cost of twenty- 
 five, sometimes thirty, cents per letter. The new law reduces such 
 letters to ten cents, some to five, an average reduction of over two- 
 thirds. Where a large correspondence was kept up, as in our case, this 
 is a measure to be truly thankful for. 
 
 182 
 
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I'rty 
 
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 ' Hloan dept. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 
 
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 OCT 1 8 1995 
 
 
 U. C. BERKELEY 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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