COLUMBIA LIBRARIES OFFSITE 
 
 AVERY FINE ARTS RESTRICTED 
 
 AR00880558 
 
 | LEGENDS, STORIES AND FOLKLORE 
 OF OLD STATEN ISLAND 
 
 THE NORTH SHORE 
 
IEx lOthria 
 
 SEYMOUR DURST 
 
 When you leave, please leave this hook 
 
 Because it has heen said 
 "Sver'thing comes t' him who waits 
 
 Except a loaned hook." 
 
 Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library 
 Gu t of Seymour B. Durst Old York Library 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://archive.org/details/legendsstoriesfoOOhine 
 
Legends, Stories and Folklore 
 of Old Staten Island 
 
 By 
 
 CHARLES GILBERT HINE 
 
 and 
 
 WILLIAM T. DAVIS 
 
 PART I -THE NORTH SHORE 
 
 From Printed Records, Manuscripts and 
 the Memories of the Older Inhabitants 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 THE STATEN ISLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY 
 
 FEBRUARY. 1925 
 
THE 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
HINE PUBLISHING CO.. 52 DUANE ST., NEW YORK 
 
Foreword 
 
 The North Shore stretches from St. George to the Eliza- 
 bethport ferry, and the Richmond Terrace is its main thorough- 
 fare. 
 
 Beyond a few Revolutionary scraps, the history of the re- 
 gion from St. George to West New Brighton practically dates 
 from about 1830. The suddenness and completeness of the 
 change from a sparsely settled farming region to one of urban 
 life, which swept out the descendants of the first land owners 
 and swept in the butterflies from New York and the South, 
 making of this North shore the most fashionable resort in the 
 country, seems to have largely obliterated tales of the early set- 
 tlers as they had already swamped Indian tradition. 
 
 Before 1830 there was no shore road at New Brighton be- 
 yond, possibly, the remains of the old Indian footpath which 
 skirted the water. The only means of reaching the water were 
 the farm lanes that came down from the interior. 
 
 The golden age of this part of the Island, in fact of the 
 northern half of the Island, dawned in the thirties with the ad- 
 vent of Thomas E. Davis, who came, saw and purchased lib- 
 erally of the hill country, now known as New Brighton. Mr. 
 Davis platted his property with the laudable purpose of selling 
 lots, and thereby doing well by himself. Among others he laid 
 out the Richmond Terrace or Shore Road in New Brighton. 
 Mr. Davis was unsuccessful, and eventually the New Brighton 
 Association was formed in 1836 to take over the property. 
 
 In Captain Marryat's "Diary in America" (1839) occurs the 
 following passage: 
 
 "At Staten Island, at the entrance into the Sound, an estate 
 was purchased by some speculators for ten thousand dollars, 
 was divided into lots, and planned as a town to be called New 
 Brighton ; and had the whole of the lots been sold at the price 
 at which many were previous to the crash, the original specu- 
 lators would have realized three million of dollars." 
 
 The Richmond Terrace of today is rather depressing to one 
 who has in mind its past glories and beauties. Before the 
 
4 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 grimy and ill-smelling factories of Bayonne arrived in these 
 parts, and before what Eugene Field called "the bumptious B. 
 & O." came to bind the shore in its iron grip, this was the most 
 beautiful road in the country — embowered in tall trees, its 
 equipages drawn by the best the stables could supply and 
 adorned with the youth, beauty and fashion of the day. 
 
 The hillsides were dotted with the enormous homes in which 
 the rich of those days indulged. Southern planters came up 
 and swarmed the hotels during the warm months. In fact, so 
 fashionable did this region become that anyone who was any- 
 one was sure to get his name on one or other of the hotel regis- 
 ters. 
 
 Literary West New Brighton followed hard on the heels of 
 fashionable New Brighton. 
 
 Port Richmond which, under various names had been a 
 ferry landing and settlement since the early days, now took 
 unto itself its share of the new migrants and the prosperity 
 which followed in their trail. 
 
 Mariners' Harbor and adjacent parts became the headquar- 
 ters of the Oyster aristocrats. 
 
 The history of each section is singularly individual and in- 
 teresting. Possibly no other stretch of so few miles in the 
 country can show as diverse reasons for being. 
 
 The following disconnected scraps have been gathered dur- 
 ing a considerable number of years. They cover story, family 
 history and folklore of the region. Material already printed 
 has been used sparingly except in the case of newspaper arti- 
 cles that would not otherwise be easily accessible. It is not pos- 
 sible to mention all of those who have contributed, but it is 
 fitting that a few who have given largely should be recorded; 
 these include Mrs. George William Curtis, Mrs. William G. 
 Willcox and her brother Mr. Martin Gay, Mr. Louis P. Grata- 
 cap, Mr. Cornelius G. Kolff, Mr. Edward C. Delavan, Jr., Mr. 
 Charles W. Leng, Mr. Royden W. Vosburgh, Mr. Calvin D. 
 Van Name, Mr. Azel F. Merrill, Mr. Matthias De Hart and Mr. 
 C. E. Simonson. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 5 
 
 STATEN ISLAND IN 1839 
 
 [Copied from the "Corsair," by the "Richmond County Mir- 
 ror" of July 20, 1839.] 
 
 "As for Staten Island, the interior is actually little known, 
 and so rarely visited by our citizens, and the Islanders so homo- 
 genous and primitive in their ideas, that they speak of us as 
 Foreigners ! 
 
 " 'We don't want any Forners coming in here to meddle in 
 our polities', said a worthy islander to an itinerant politician 
 of his own party who went down from Brooklyn to reconnoitre 
 the state of the land. 
 
 "'Do you ever have strangers settling among you here?' 
 asked a gentleman of another. 
 
 " 'Very few except the Forners from New York who have 
 stuck themselves against the hillside at New Brighton, and a 
 small sprinkling about Stapleton and the Quorten', was the re- 
 ply. 
 
 "These people living within two hours of New York, con- 
 stitute one of the most peculiar classes of independent yeo- 
 manry to be found in the United States. Their farms are of 
 small extent, but are highly cultivated and enriched with a prod- 
 igality of fruit trees, and their neat white-washed cottages, 
 many of which were built by the French Huguenots, by whom 
 Staten Island was chiefly settled, are held by the descendants 
 of the original owners to this day. The majority of the people 
 unite fishing with farming as a means of livelihood, and ex- 
 tending their settlements around the shores of the island, they 
 have left so much of the forest remaining in the centre that it 
 even yet furnishes material for one or two saw-mills, which 
 still ply their trade in the interior within a few miles of New 
 Brighton. Now, these woods and fields, intersected here and 
 there by winding roads, offer some of the most delightful 
 drives, extensive water prospects, and varied rural landscapes 
 to be found in any part of the country. The roads, too, are ex- 
 cellent, and the fruits newly gathered, and fish fresh from the 
 sea, make the Inns to which they lead more or less attractive. 
 And yet, near by and accessible as it is from town, how few of 
 our citizens who have a day to spend ever think of devoting it 
 to an excursion through the interior of Staten Island. How 
 few, in fact, have the least idea that in two hours' time they can 
 
6 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 shake off the noisome airs of the city and enjoy the sea breeze 
 in one of the most beautiful farming districts of the State. For 
 such really is the southern side of the Island. 
 
 "Mr. Wills' deputy seems to think he is the only New 
 Yorker who knows anything about our island. We would ad- 
 vise him to claim the territory by right of discovery and ex- 
 pel the present occupants on the plea of their being uncivilized, 
 and therefore not entitled to an abiding place this side of the 
 Mississippi." 
 
 "Ed. Mirror." 
 
 St. George 
 
 As the adoption of the name St. George marks to some ex- 
 tent the beginning of the commercial era, it might be well to 
 give Erastus Wiman's explanation of the origin of the name. 
 When this was purely a region of homes no one regarded the 
 land under water along this shore as of value, but George Law 
 who saw its future possibilities proceeded to buy it up at prices 
 that were merely nominal. In the early eighties came Erastus 
 Wiman with his scheme for centralizing the ferry landings, 
 and instead of having six to eight, as was then the case, to 
 bring them all together at one point. The place now known as 
 St. George he thought best, and explained his scheme to Law, 
 and secured from him an option on the water front. This ex- 
 pired before the plan could be worked out, but Law renewed 
 it. When, however, Wiman wanted it renewed a second time, 
 Law objected and resisted all of the former's arguments and 
 coaxing until the first named finally said, "George, if you will 
 give me that option I will canonize you." "What do you mean 
 by 'canonize' me," answered Law. "I will name the place St. 
 George" was the response. That put Law in a good humor 
 and he granted Wiman's request for the third option, and so 
 came St. George to Staten Island. 
 
 The St. George Waterfront 
 
 If the kind reader will stand on the bridge leading to the St. 
 George ferry and, ignoring the crass commercialism that so of- 
 fends, will allow his imagination to roam over a gently sloping 
 greensward, dotted with trees and gray granite boulders, he 
 will note clean waters laving the shores of a beautiful, un- 
 spoiled point ; will observe the biy covered with a multitude of 
 sailing craft, small and large, careening to the fresh breeze or, 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 7 
 
 with idly hanging sails sending long and beautiful reflections 
 across the smooth surface almost to his feet, he will carry a 
 much better impression of what this point once was than he 
 can possibly receive from any mere pen picture. And he can 
 also the more readily realize why the idle rich seized upon this 
 spot at an early date for a playground. 
 
 The low land of the St. George waterfront that is now criss- 
 crossed with railroad tracks was formerly nearly on a level 
 with the Richmond Terrace. Before the Civil War this point 
 was known as Camp Washington. Newspapers record the fact 
 that the Quickstep Baseball Club had a game at Camp Wash- 
 ington on Thanksgiving day in 1859. The place was used dur- 
 ing the war as a training ground for recruits, beginning with 
 Wilson's Zouaves in May, 1861, and ending with the First Na- 
 tional Regiment in September, 1862. During this period six- 
 teen regiments were licked into shape here. In 1873, the Staten 
 Island Cricket and Baseball Club was organized here. Many of 
 the important cricket games in this country were played on 
 these grounds. The club held sway here for twelve years. On 
 January 18, 1885, the club purchased the property near the foot 
 of Bard Avenue and about the same time transferred its old 
 grounds to the railroad. 
 
 Following the Cricket Club, came Erastus Wiman and his 
 Staten Island Amusement Co. (Unlimited). Here were 
 grounds for baseball and ballet shows for those so inclined. 
 There was a "Fountain of Illuminated Water" imported from 
 London at a cost of $25,000. The Seventh Regiment band of 
 sixty pieces led by Cappa furnished music. A grand stand 
 from which to view baseball and other games was erected at a 
 cost of $35,000, ''the largest and handsomest in America." A 
 dining hall that would serve one thousand persons at a time 
 was part of the outfit ; the partitions on the upper floors of this 
 were made of glass that the occupants might have an unob- 
 structed view of the Upper Bay. 
 
 The Amusement Company owned the franchise of the Met- 
 ropolitan Baseball Club, the "Mets", and this was their home 
 ground. The opening game, with the Athletics of Philadel- 
 phia, took place April 22, 1885. before nearly 7,000 people. 
 
 When the "Mets" were en tour lacrosse games were staged 
 that Manhattanites might not get out of the habit of journey- 
 ing down this way. These visitors contributed to the wealth of 
 those interested from the moment they stepped on the boat at 
 
8 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 New York until they were returned to its home shores. There 
 was the transportation fare, the eats in that wonderful rest- 
 aurant as well as a ticket to the game, and, last but not least, 
 came all the sideshows instituted for the purpose of enticing 
 any dimes and quarters that the larger attractions might have 
 overlooked. 
 
 It was here, in 1887, that the Kiralfys put on their great 
 spectacular production, "The Fall of Babylon", followed dur- 
 ing the summer of 1888 by "The Fall of Rome". These fell and 
 fell and fell, and it is said the gate receipts fell likewise. There 
 were many girls in marching columns picked out by the lime- 
 light, a riot of color and very much noise. However, one of our 
 Staten Island nature lovers avers that "They were great shows, 
 though no better than a sunset". 
 
 While Babylon was in the nightly process of falling, the 
 band played a mournful dirge that still lingers in memory's 
 ears. Such of those still with us who were fishing from the 
 rocks hereabouts, or were spending a sheltered evening on a 
 friendly veranda in the vicinity, can still recall the slow music 
 that helped Babylon to fall. 
 
 The Duxbury Glebe 
 
 And now having explained how St. George came to Staten 
 Island we will turn backward to the time when this was the 
 northeasternmost portion of the plantation of Colonel Francis 
 Lovelace, the second English governor of New York (1668). 
 This plantation extended at least as far as Palmer's Run. Love- 
 lace was arrested for debt and his property confiscated. In 
 1 69 1, Ellis Duxbury received a patent for this portion of the Is- 
 land, reaffirmed in 1708. In 17 18 Duxbury died having devised 
 his farm to the minister, church wardens and vestry of St. An- 
 drew in the County of Richmond, this being later known as 
 Duxbury Glebe. In 18 14 a law was passed permitting St. An- 
 drew's to sell the Glebe, and in 181 5 all that portion lying north 
 of the Richmond Turnpike and a large part of that lying south 
 of the Turnpike was conveyed to Daniel D. Tompkins. In 
 1823 St. Andrew's church foreclosed the mortgage given by 
 Mr. Tompkins and bought the property in, but in 1824 recon- 
 veyed the north portion of the Glebe to Tompkins. 
 
 Under date of May 30, 1814, the following appears in the 
 minutes of the vestry of the church of St. Andrew's: "May 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 9 
 
 th 30 Sold to Govenor D. D. Tomkins 88 Acres of Gletb Land 
 for 2642 Dollars. Joseph Bedell Clerk." A few pages further on 
 in the same old book is the following entry: "May 1, 1815 the 
 Rector Wardens and Vestry have given a deed to Govenor 
 Daniel D. Tompkins of ninetv Four Acres three Rods and 
 Eight perches for the Sum of Eleven thousand eight hundred 
 and Fifty Dollars which they have taken a mortgage for of this 
 date of Glebe Farm 
 
 $11850 Joseph Bedell Clerk of vestry." 
 
 The First House 
 
 Clute states that there was a tradition that one of the first 
 dwelling:, on Staten Island was built of brick, brought from 
 Holland, and was situated on the heights of New Brighton, 
 and if there is any truth in it, the house was probably built 
 by de Vries, who on January 5, 1639, began the first settlement 
 on the Island. 
 
 Port Hill 
 
 During the British occupation of Staten Island a fort was 
 erected on what is now known as Fort Hill ; at the head of Fort 
 Place, back of the Borough Hall, a bit of the earth work still 
 remains, but the brick vaults are modern. In one of the raids 
 on Staten Island American soldiers appeared before this fort, 
 which was known as Fort Knyphausen, but the snow of Janu- 
 ary, 1780, was knee deep and the defenses appeared so formida- 
 ble that no attack was made. This appears to have been the 
 only attempt to assault the fort. 
 
 A Few Names 
 
 Many names of well known New Yorkers appear as early 
 residents: Daniel Low. who owned a large tract on Fort Hill, 
 which included at least a part of the fort, John C. Green, Anson 
 Phelps Stokes, George Wotherspoon, Judge P. T. Ruggles and 
 others. That part of the Richmond Terrace from about Hamil- 
 ton Avenue was known as Jay Street. 
 
 Hvatt Street 
 
 In deeds of 1846 and 1854 what is now known as Hyatt 
 Street is referred to as the "Old Shore Road", for at that time 
 
IO 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 the shore road, the present Bay Street, did not continue along 
 the shore but turned up the hill. Hyatt Street is said to be one 
 of the widest streets on Staten Island, and the way of it was 
 this : Martin Wiener bought the Quarantine property and put 
 Central Avenue through. South Street, which leads down to 
 the Brooklyn ferry, extended up the hill on a diagonal, joining 
 Hyatt above the present Central Avenue. This left a triangu- 
 lar plot between the two. Wiener proposed an exchange to the 
 village trustees, they to give him the lower part of this triangle 
 for the upper end of South Street. This was agreed to and re- 
 sulted in the widening of Hyatt Street. The agreement ap- 
 pears, however, never to have been ratified by the trustees of 
 the Village of New Brighton and as a result title to the prop- 
 erty is said to be clouded. That is possibly the reason why the 
 Library building is set so far from Hyatt Street. Hyatt was 
 the family name of the mother of Daniel D. Tompkins. 
 
 "Honest John Thompson" 
 
 John C. Thompson, known as "Honest John Thompson," 
 whose property was bounded by Tompkins Avenue (now St. 
 Marks Place), Hyatt Street and Stuyvesant Place, was one of 
 those rare men who have the courage of their convictions and 
 who did that for Staten Island which deserves more than pass- 
 ing notice. The political gang that ruled Staten Island about 
 60 years ago was running things with a very high hand when 
 Honest John put a spoke in its wheel. But even before that he 
 was one of the prominent leaders in the burning of Quarantine ; 
 in fact, had the honor to be arrested with Ray Tompkins and 
 put in jail over night because of his leadership. 
 
 But it was his attack on the politicians that gave him his 
 sobriquet of "Honest John". Truthful James had nothing on 
 Mr. Thompson for plain talk, as witness the following broad- 
 side which with others of like pungency, supplemented with 
 newspaper articles, resulted in an investigation that clouded 
 the title of more than one to his golden harp. 
 
 The Board of Supervisors was compelled to take notice, and 
 in February, 1867, it issued a report on an examination of the 
 treasurer's books, showing many errors which seem always to 
 have been against the county, and finding that he was indebted 
 to the county for moneys received and not credited, false 
 charge of percentage, etc., to the extent of $24,951.67, probably 
 a very small portion of the loot. 
 
J. O. THOMPSON 
 
 TQ 
 
 TAXPAYERS OF RICHMOND CO 
 
 My Friends:— You are again called on to choose a 
 Coonty Treasurer for the next three years from Jan. I, 
 1867. On the subject of your choice I desire to Mf a 
 Few words to all, Uing alike interested with yon in see- 
 ing what becomes of the money we annually pay into 
 the Treasury. We all know our taxes have been in- 
 creasing year after year for the past six years ; so let 
 us look into the Treasurer's accounts.. The present 
 Treasurer says he " varied nine yearx to get into that 
 office now I hold, a good ineciiauic, with a good 
 business, must be hard up for an office that wil] work 
 nine years and then give up his business tor a place 
 worth (if he takes no more than the law allows him) $5110 
 a vcar. There must be something loo*e laving around 
 in that office or good moeepiugx and picking* to induce 
 a man to work nine years to get it, and ihen to spend 
 lar^e sinus to keep it for three yearx more. 
 
 Now I will show you from his own l»ooks why he can 
 afford to pay out very large sums to bur up the Demo- 
 cratic County Convention to secure his nomination, and 
 to spend large sums to insure his election for the next 
 term. (Whether he is using our money or his own I 
 leave you to judge). Yoa all know I have examined 
 and - thoroughly exposed the swindling acts of the 
 
 King" Board of riupervisors, of which the County 
 Treasurer was the ring-leader. It was the discovery 
 of their base attempt to swindle the Couhty out of 
 about $40,(100 on the lirst contract lor men for the 
 war which led me to examine the condition of our 
 County finan«cs since he has been Treasurer, and when 
 you examine rheiu carefully, you will see why he worked 
 nine years to get into the office, and then paid himself 
 well for the privilege of taking care of our money. I 
 want you to remember that the statements here made 
 are taken from his ovni books, and I defy him, nay, 1 
 dare him to show that they »re any different from what 
 I tftatc. 
 
 He went into office Jan. 1, 1861. The first year he 
 kept his accounts pretty nearly correct, with the excep- 
 tion of charging the County with §27,761. ^or State tax, 
 while he only paid out to the State $20,472 72, keep- 
 ing the balance over till the next year, thus bringing 
 the County in his debt $1,453, for which he got a 
 voucher on his first settlement with the Supervisors, 
 while he actually had in hand $9,525. I will now show 
 you how he charged. and credited his school money ac- 
 count, and then you can judge as well as I if be is 
 rhJa or I am wrong. 1 claim (hat he has overcharged 
 the Couuty $18,803 71 on school money alone. Don't 
 forget that these figures arc taken from bis own .account 
 and they are his own words and figures : 
 Statement showing bow the Treasurer has changed and 
 
 credited the schooi monies to the County for the 
 
 years lSGl-^-'S-^-'S. 
 
 1861.— Charged to the County. 
 
 Paid Supervisor of Xorthfield $1,419 63 
 
 14 Middietown 1,889 51 
 
 44 Southfield 735 40 
 
 M M Weslfieid 1,146 00 
 
 44 Castleton 1.579 16 
 
 Total school charged to Couuty in IS61 $6,769 72 
 
 Cr. By total apportionment from State for' 
 
 echooj money $6,770 30 
 
 The account of 1861 is evidently correct. 
 Now LOOK AT 
 
 1SR2.— Charged to the County 
 
 IVid to Supervisor of Westfield $1,100 10 
 
 Northfield 1,579 15 
 
 44 Southfield 794 76 
 
 44 Middietown 2,122 72 
 
 Castleton 1,631 37 
 
 Amount charged as paid to Supervisors. . . .$i,228 10 
 ' 11 K again charges — Total amount school 
 
 money paid to towns •••• $7,226 10 
 
 Whole sum ^charged to County in 1862. .. .$14,454 20 
 
 Now xee hix Credit for 1862. 
 Cr. By credit of school moneys from State 
 
 authorities $6,546 30 
 
 Amount overcharged to County in 1862.. .$7,909 9o 
 lie actually received $7,226 10 from the State for 
 
 schools. Why credit the County short $*'»79 80 ? 
 Here is th». accouut lor 
 
 1863. — Charged to County. 
 
 Paid to Supervisor of Middietown .$2,203 62 
 
 41 ' 4 Northficld -.. 1,506 03 
 
 44 44 Westfield '. 1,087 40- 
 
 Southfield 792 16 
 
 14 44 Castleton 1,658 56 
 
 Total charged as paid to Supervisors. .... .$7,247 77 
 
 Hk again charges — Total amount paid for 
 
 school monevs 7,247 77 
 
 Whole amount of school moneys charged to — 
 
 the County in 1863 $14,495 54 
 
 Cr. From State School money from $ mill 
 
 tax, and Free School lund, credited on 
 
 State tax by transfer 7,247 77 
 
 Amount overcharged to Coanty in 1863. . ..$7,247 77 
 In 1863 the school money is credited right, as 
 in 1861. J£% 
 
 (OYER.) 
 
1864. — Charged to the County. 
 
 Paid to the Supervisor of Southfield $726 47 
 
 " 4t Castleton.. 1,616 63 
 
 « 44 Middletown. . . ... . 2,2 1 5 05 
 
 " Westfield ........ 1,079 24 
 
 Northfield 1,599 89 
 
 Total charged to the Supervisors in 1864.. .$7,237 28 
 Nothing charged in a lump to the County in 1864, 
 «s he did in l862-'3 
 
 Being more closely watched in 1864, the Treasurer 
 changed the mode of keeping his accounts this year 
 (1864) and as he received $28,473 58 for State taxes 
 levied in 1863 to be paid out in 1864, the account 
 stands thus : 
 
 Paid to'the Comptroller State tax $23,960 52 
 
 Paid to himself, fees, one percent 242 02 
 
 Paid school moneys to the Supervisors of 
 
 the several towns 7,237 28 
 
 Total charged to the County in 1864. .V.. .$31,439 82 
 Or. — By' State- tax- levied in 1863 to be paid 
 
 out in '64 28,473 58 
 
 Amount overcharged the County in 1864. 2,966 24 
 Here he should have credited the "deficiency 
 f mill tax," and the amount he received from the com- 
 mon school fund, $2,966 24. You will find he credited 
 these tv)o items in his account for 1865. Now, why 
 not in ,1864 as well as 1865 ? If he had done so his 
 account would have balanced and the difference, 
 $2,966 24 would have been in our pockets and out of his. 
 1865. 
 
 This year our Treasurer began to smell a pretty il big 
 mice, "so he charged the school money this time only once 
 iu the different towns' books, .and not to the County as 
 he always had done before. The reform Board of Super- 
 visors plainly told him to charge it back to the County, 
 where it properly belonged. lie did so, Imt- -ag*ttn 
 changed the mode of keeping his accounts, winch. you 
 will find charged and credited as follows, showing that 
 there are no two years charged alike in the past five 
 years. The State tax for 18f»5, $31,805 89, is disposed 
 of 'as follows : 
 
 Paul to State Comptroller ?$27,262 \9 
 
 I'aul School moneys to Supervisors 7,402, 6f> 
 
 $34,664 85 
 Dedact amount credited to the County for 
 " deficiencies | mill tax," 1,457 ^7 ; by 
 amount common school fund 1,400 99. — 2,858 96 
 
 $81,805 89 
 
 Recapitulation. 
 In 1861 his school money account is correct. 
 In 1802 the school money is overcharged . . $7,909 90 
 In 1863 the school money is overcharged . , 7,247 77 
 
 and is credited short 679 80 
 
 In 1864 The County is credited short 2,966 24 
 
 In 1865 his account is correct. 
 
 Total amount overcharged in 'five years. .. .$18,803 71 
 
 Now, if his accounts show anything, do they not 
 dearly Show that the Treasurer owes us the abov e sum £ 
 and therefore it is not the*$500 office that he worked 
 nine years to obtain, and now wantsyto be kept there 
 for three v^ears more. Myopinion is he is too expens- 
 ive an officer for an overtaxed people, and therefore we 
 •hould try and get a cheaper one 
 
 I am often asked why the old Boards of Sujlervisors 
 had not discovered these things. Let me answer: On 
 every settling day the Treasurer dines and wines them 
 most beautifully, after which they have no desire for a 
 •areful examination of his accounts and by way of dis- 
 posing of the business all the vouchers and papers are 
 thrown into the stove. This was tried on last year but 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 the reform Board could not see it. 
 
 BACK TAXES. 
 Let us examine this subject. — We all know this 
 
 has been the scape goat when called on to know what 
 they had done with the enormous sums they had put 
 into the tax levy for interest on bonds not in existence 
 and to pay bonds which have not been paid. The' 
 Treasurer and the ring Clerk of the old Board both 
 answered, oh ! the back Taxes always keep the treas- 
 urey short. Now, every body knows that a large 
 amount of back taxes is collected every year. What 
 becomes of them ; that is the question ? Will th« 
 Treasurer answer? No. Let me do it for. him. 
 
 It is his " internal revenue " for the benefit of tha 
 corruption fund. 
 
 Here is all jt he money he has ever credited the Coun- 
 ty for back taxes during the past five years : 
 
 In 1861 — 41 Received taxes in arrears on property 
 formerly owned hy W. W, Van Wagoner, in Southfield, 
 $360 66." Received taxes in arrears on property of 
 Isaac Ward in Castleton, $5 63." 
 In 1862-'3-'4— Not a dollar. 
 
 In 1865 — "Received taxes from Castleton, Kenny's 
 property, $282 35." Total, $648 64. 
 
 Will the taxpayers of this County believe that this i» 
 all the money that has been paid into tho Treasury 
 for back taxes during all this time ? No, 4t is impos- 
 sihle, lor more than ten times that amount has been 
 collected, and remains unaccounted for to us, but has 
 gone into the corruption fund, which is to be used to 
 elect this very careSul public servant again, so that he 
 may serve us as well in the future as in the past. 
 
 When the Treasurer closed up his last year's accounts 
 I was present. Supervisor Child requested Judge Met- 
 calfe to swear, the Treasurer. To the question put, 
 have you accounted for all the pubjie mmmy thrrtrtrar 
 come into your bands during the past year ? He an- 
 swered, I have. Now, at that vtery time he' took the 
 oath, I had in my pocket two receipts of his for back 
 taxes ; one for $40 00 and the other for $60 00, on 
 property own»»d by Stephen Baxsjer, the last sum wa* 
 paid to him on the 7th of November, 1865 — only two 
 months before he swore he rendered a full account of 
 all money received. 
 
 Look at his rkcruiting charges. — First, in 1863, 
 he lifted a $1.00«j out of the Treasury fdr M fees for 
 obtaining loans, issuing bonds, stamps and disburs- 
 ments "" without any authority from the Supervisors. 
 Second his attempt to give Jim Lee a contract for men 
 by which our County would have been cheated out of 
 about $40,000. Defeated in that the Ring let Lee cheat, 
 us out*>f 63 men and $4,725, and then made the Coun- 
 ty pay all the expenses, $20,553 38. 
 
 Third, his different charges for his fees and commis- 
 sion, $17, 51 60, besides making the County piy all 
 his and the recruiting expenses, which are over $40,000 
 more. 
 
 Remember that by the acts of the Ring leader our 
 County is nearly a million of dollars in debt for tha 
 1,300 then we sent to the wkrr When the "city ""Of* 
 Hartford sent 2,000 men at a cost under $200,000. 
 Wdiile Vermont sent 32,000 men, and her 'war debt u 
 only $1.600. 000, and then don't forget he refuses to 
 pay over to the County $14,000 whica the Supervisors 
 say be owes out of the last money put into his hands 
 for recruiting purposes. 
 
 And, now, Taxpayers are you ready to vote such a 
 man into offiee again ? Choose vou now between Wan- 
 del, the present Treasurer, and IAMES GUYON, 
 a worthy and honest man, to care ' for the public money 
 in future. 
 
 * J. C. THOMPSON. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 i3 
 
 "Honest John" was finally hit on the head by one of the 
 eminent gentlemen who was helping run the county's affairs 
 and who we are informed was arrested for assault. 
 
 In this connection the following is interesting: 
 
 BY-LAWS 
 of the 
 
 TAX-PAYERS' ASSOCIATION 
 of 
 
 RICHMOND COUNTY 
 Organized February, 1864. 
 
 PREAMBLE 
 
 Whereas. Some of the offices of Richmond County have 
 been usurped by a set of irresponsible and dishonest men, who 
 make politics a trade, and depend for a living upon the pockets 
 of tax-payers ; 
 
 And Whereas, The public moneys of the County are now, 
 and for a long time have been needlessly and dishonestly squan- 
 dered and appropriated by those having the custody and dis- 
 position of them, thus largely increasing our already enormous 
 taxes, without any corresponding increase of the benefits they 
 are intended to produce ; and whereas, this state of affairs, if 
 permitted to continue, will in a short time utterly check the 
 growth and improvement of Staten Island, by making the 
 ownership of real estate thereon a burden too heavy to be 
 borne; and 
 
 Whereas, The various efforts heretofore made to bring 
 about a reform have all been unsuccessful, and our affairs as a 
 tax-paying community, instead of improving, are continually 
 growing worse ; and whereas, an immediate change for the bet- 
 ter is absolutely essential to the interests of the County — Now 
 therefore, we, the undersigned, tax-payers of Richmond County, 
 hereby form ourselves into an association to be called "The 
 Tax-Payers' Vigilance Association of Richmond County," for 
 the purpose of protecting our interests as tax-payers, and 
 checking the corruption and dishonesty which prevail to such 
 an alarming extent among many of our public officials. And 
 we do hereby pledge ourselves to use every effort in our power, 
 
14 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 whether as individuals or as an association, to defeat their cor- 
 rupt designs, and to bring the offenders themselves to justice. 
 For which purpose, and that our action, being systematic may 
 be more effectual, we have established the following by-laws 
 by which to govern ourselves : 
 
 BY-LAWS 
 
 I. The name of this Association shall be "The Tax-Payers' 
 Vigilance Association of Richmond County." 
 
 II. The object of the Association is to relieve the tax-payers 
 of Richmond County from the unnecessary and onerous bur- 
 dens placed upon them by dishonest officials; to exercise a 
 careful scrutiny over all public matters in the County, v/ith a 
 view of correcting the manifold abuses which now exist, and 
 preventing their recurrence in future; and to detect and punish 
 to the utmost extent of the law, every person, whether in or out 
 of office, who shall have attempted to defraud the tax -payers of 
 the County in any manner whatever. 
 
 III. The officers of the Association shall be a President, 
 Vice President, Secretary and Treasurer, who shall be elected 
 annually by ballot and whose duties shall be such as usually 
 devolve upon such officers in similar associations. 
 
 IV. Any tax-payer of good standing in Richmond County 
 may, on application, become a member of this Association by 
 being nominated by one or more members thereof at any regu- 
 lar meeting, and being confirmed by the members present, and 
 voting at such meeting, and subscribing his name to this pre- 
 amble and by-laws. 
 
 V. The following standing committees shall be elected an- 
 nually at the same time and in the same manner as the officers 
 of the Association, viz r 
 
 i st. The "Executive Committee," to consist of two members 
 from each town in the county, whose duty it shall be to scruti- 
 nize all the transactions of public officials in the County, and 
 the several towns thereof ; and to whom shall be referred for 
 examination all cases of official corruption or malfeasance 
 which may come within the knowledge of the Association, or 
 any of the members thereof; and who shall report from time to 
 time to the Association, at its regular meeting, the disclosures 
 made and information obtained by them in relation to the mat- 
 ters coming under their charge. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 i5 
 
 2d. The "Judiciary Committee," to consist of three members, 
 to whom shall be referred all questions relating to proposed 
 changes in legislation, and all legal matters whatever; and 
 who, in the absence of regularly employed counsel, shall act as 
 such for the Association. 
 
 VI. The regular meeting shall be held on the first Tuesday 
 of each month, at such hour and place as may be appointed. 
 Special meetings may at any time be called by the president at 
 the request of two or more members — Provided, that five mem- 
 bers shall constitute a quorum to do business. 
 
 VII. Counsel may at any time be employed by the Associa- 
 tion, and reimbursed by the treasurer out of the funds in his 
 hands. One or more special agents may also be employed, if 
 deemed necessary to carry out the objects of the Association, 
 either temporarily for a fixed sum, or permanently, at a stated 
 salary — Provided, that all resolutions involving an expendi- 
 ture of money shall be adopted by a vote of at least two-thirds 
 of the members present at the meeting when such expenditure 
 is authorized. 
 
 VIII. Funds may be raised by subscription among mem- 
 bers of the Association, or among the tax-payers of the County. 
 
 IX. The order of business at the regular meetings of the 
 Association shall be as follows : 
 
 1st. The reading of the minutes of the last meeting. 
 
 2d. The election of officers, if any are to be chosen. 
 
 3d. The reports of committees. 
 
 4th. The reception of new members. 
 
 5th. Miscellaneous business. 
 
 X. A quorum to do business, shall consist of at least five 
 members. 
 
 XI. These by-laws may be amended at any regular meeting 
 by a vote of two-thirds of the members present. 
 
 At a meeting of the Association, held at the office of Mr. 
 
 Low, No. 17 Broadway, May 3d, 1864, the following officers 
 
 were unanimously elected: 
 
 President Daniel Low 
 
 Vice-President Alex. Hornby 
 
 Sec'y and Treas'r Sam'l Barton 
 
i6 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 Executive Committee 
 Castleton: J. C. Thompson, Wm. Hoyt 
 Middletown : N. B. Labau, R. M. Hazard 
 Southfield: Geo. M. Root, Sam'l Barton 
 Northfield: G. W. Jewett, Jno. W. Houseman 
 Westfield : G. A. Cole, Sam'l H. Frost 
 
 Judiciary Committee 
 N. B. Labau, C. Bainbridge Smith, Geo. Catlin 
 
 The Staten Island Institute of Arts and Sciences 
 
 The Staten Island Institute of Arts and Sciences, whose in- 
 teresting and valuable museum and library is situated on the 
 northerly corner of Stuyvesant Place and Wall St., has done 
 much for the development of both the history and natural sci- 
 ence of the Island. The Institute is the outgrowth of the older 
 Staten Island Association of Arts and Sciences, and this of the 
 still older Natural Science Association, which was started at a 
 meeting in the home of William T. Davis on November 12, 
 1881. The first officers were Sanderson Smith, president; 
 Charles W. Leng, recording and financial secretary ; Arthur 
 Hollick, corresponding secretary; Wm. T. Davis, curator. Dr. 
 Nathaniel L. Britton, Samuel Henshaw, Ernest F. Neilson, Ed- 
 ward C. Delavan, Jr., Charles W. Butler, Wilton G. Berry, E. 
 F. Birmingham, George W. Wright, Bradish J. Carroll and Dr. 
 Alfred L. Carroll (who later served as president for five years), 
 were also present. The first number of the Proceedings is 
 dated November icth, 1883. 
 
 Old Days on Staten Island * 
 
 When Staten Island first presents itself to my mental vision 
 through accounts of its beauty at first hand, its North Shore 
 had been girdled by a road and there was one running from 
 Quarantine to Fort Wadsworth. Previously the farms on both 
 shores had stretched in green fields to the water. Many people, 
 even young ones, can remember the last of these farms which 
 lay at St. George where the freight yards now are. 
 
 There were two lines of steamboats from New York, one 
 going through the Kills and one along the South Shore. These 
 two lines were a never-ending source of trouble to the visiting 
 stranger, and every family had harrowing tales of good meals 
 
 * Contributed by Mrs. Willcox. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 spoiled in the waiting; of impatient horses jerking at the reins 
 on the nearest dock, while the expected guest to his horror 
 found that he had taken the other ferry and was miles from his 
 host's house, the only way to reach it being to go back to New 
 York and start afresh. 
 
 The ferry on the South Shore was a Vanderbilt creation and 
 distinct successor of the little sailboat, a periagua owned by 
 the father of the "Commodore". When the old man died and 
 left his widow with only the little boat as her chief means of 
 support, she told the oldest son, Cornelius, that he must now 
 run the ferry and support the family. The boy was only a lad, 
 but he managed the boat and made his trips back and forth, 
 bringing to his mother every night the proceeds of the day's 
 work, all but a small percent, which he kept for himself until 
 he had saved enough to buy a larger and a better boat and to 
 run his mother's off the line, a stroke of business not unknown 
 in his later methods. 
 
 The "Staten Islander" and the "Huguenot" were the two 
 boats employed on the North Shore, and their names on the 
 pilot house were abbreviated to "Str." and "Hgn." They made 
 the trip once in two hours, and not then if the captain did not 
 consider the weather auspicious. If it were foggy, or too 
 rough, the boat would not leave the Whitehall Street slip, and 
 the luckless passengers were obliged to take trains to Bergen 
 Point, walk down to the shore and hire a rowboat. 
 
 The boats stopped at the Harbor dock by courtesy, thus 
 giving easy means whereby New York could be reached by 
 that neighborhood. But it was not a large dock, and when the 
 coal barges were tied up there with the winter's supply of fuel 
 for the institution, there was no room for the ferryboat to land. 
 It never seemed possible to foretell the date of arrival of these 
 barges, and the only intimation that the ferryboat would not 
 stop was that it went by, leaving the passengers fuming on the 
 dock. Then would that neighborliness, which was so charac- 
 teristic, show itself, and those who had carriages would load 
 up to capacity and hurry down to the New Brighton dock. 
 
 Young people often ran the long mile and, as the boat was 
 slow, it was not an impossibility to catch up with it. Mr. 
 Abraham S. Hewitt, a young man at the time, and boarding 
 for the summer on the shore near the Harbor dock, was ob- 
 served to dash out of the house, coat and waistcoat in either 
 hand, dressing as he ran. 
 
i8 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 Five cents was the fare in those days from any point and, 
 there being no Coney Island or South Beach, mothers and 
 babies often took the round trip for an outing. At all times 
 the boat was a pleasant meeting place for friends, and the first 
 question asked on reaching home, was : "Whom did you see on 
 the boat?" 
 
 The men smoked in the downstairs cabin forward, a place 
 smelling of horses and cigar smoke, and through which all 
 well-conducted females hurried, looking neither to the right 
 hand nor the left. There was a ladies' cabin, upholstered in 
 red, and with red rep curtains draping the windows, but in this 
 cabin ladies of social position never sat, nor did they sit outside 
 this in the lower cabin. They sat upstairs or on the deck, and 
 on the "guards", if accompanied by a gentleman. Into the sa- 
 cred precincts of the upper cabin it was quite proper for a man 
 to venture ; indeed, they often sat there when they did not care 
 for tobacco smoke, and it was here that many a happy hour 
 was spent of a sunny morning by youth and maiden in joyous 
 converse : Only, be it understood, that few, if any, girls went 
 to work in those days. A journey to town might be for educa- 
 tion in an advanced form, or merely for a day spent in shop- 
 ping or in pleasure. 
 
 It was considered quite a step in advance when the tracks 
 for the horsecars were laid, and the little bumping, swaying 
 vehicles, drawn by two horses with their jingling bells, jogged 
 by the foot of the streets twice an hour. 
 
 When the snow lay too heavily on the roads to be shoveled 
 off by hand (there were no electric plows in those days), and 
 the horses could not pull the little cars over the impacted rails, 
 great sleighs were brought out, with long, box bodies seating 
 perhaps twenty people, and covered with white canvas like the 
 old-time prairie schooner. A journey at night in one of these 
 was a thing not lightly to be undertaken, and nothing more 
 uncomfortable can well be imagined, especially if the trip was 
 as far as the German Club Rooms to an entertainment calling 
 for one's best dress! We sat huddled close together, the men 
 hanging on the straps in the aisle. Nobody could tell where to 
 get off, because nobody could see through the canvas cover; the 
 sleigh bobbed and jerked and skidded and swung in the ruts; 
 the young men pitched about with the motion and tramped on 
 our feet, which were encased in arctics or even rubber boots, 
 ready for the plunge into the snow or deep slush when the 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 19 
 
 right corner should be reached. Often it was impossible to 
 cross our streets except on the raised flag crossings at the cor- 
 ners. On one of our best streets a young man, when he wished 
 to call on an opposite neighbor, used to wrap his feet in news- 
 papers firmly tied on and, crossing over through the mud, leave 
 the impromptu overshoes in the gutter where he came to shore. 
 
 There was a North Shore Car Line and a South Shore Line, 
 and why these lines never made connection in point of time, 
 we never knew. The South Shore line started near the old 
 Nautilus Hotel on Bay Street, and we could always count on 
 a half hour's wait when we left the North Shore cars. 
 
 About once a summer we took this trip when some kind- 
 hearted grown-up would organize a picnic at the Fort, or 'way 
 around the corner past the Aspinwall Place to a wild bank and 
 sandy beach, which must be now the northern end of South 
 Beach. Fort Wadsworth was a very different place then. 
 There were soldiers there and sentinels and cannon and piles 
 of cannon balls, and great high banks of earth with guns con- 
 cealed behind them; there were inside courtyards and secret 
 stairs ; hidden walks and unexpected lookout places, and every- 
 body was allowed to run at will over them, and no sentinel 
 warned you off — on the contrary, they helped you to find new 
 mysteries in the art of harbor defense. 
 
 The only road which could be used in wet weather for car- 
 riages and horses was the Shore Road, called by this time 
 Richmond Terrace, and it was a lovely drive. No factories 
 marred its shore line, graceful trees bordered its sides, and 
 from New Brighton to what is now St. George the elms arched 
 overhead, completely shading the road. On this drive the rich 
 and great disported themselves of an afternoon, and pretty car- 
 riages, shiny harness and prancing horses passed to and fro. 
 
 Handsome houses with lawns and gardens were on the land- 
 ward side of the Terrace, and toward the water green banks 
 sloped to the Kills, whose waves lapped up on pebbly beaches 
 or big rocks. The Jersey shore was a vast expanse of green 
 salt meadow, shimmering in the sunshine, only broken by one 
 small factory and a house with octagonal ends on a rise of 
 ground opposite the Harbor dock, and by a gunpowder store- 
 house belonging to the Government, and an old white stone 
 cottage in which the keeper lived, on the extreme point toward 
 Communipaw Bay. 
 
 People had bathing houses along the shores and boats rode 
 at their moorings in sheltered coves. The waters were clean, 
 
20 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 especially at high tide, and the bathing was good. There is a 
 story of how Dr. Theodore Walser said to his lively young 
 son : "Willie, don't you go in bathing more than once a day," 
 and, driving off on his daily round of visits, saw the boy dis- 
 porting himself in the water near the New Brighton dock. 
 Imagine his displeasure when, on returning from the daily 
 round in the afternoon, he saw Willie disporting himself 
 in the same spot. Stern investigation brought out a frank re- 
 ply : "Why, you told me I could only go in once ; so I stayed 
 in." 
 
 Boat club houses stood on the shores and crews rowed in 
 the summer evenings up and down the Kills, getting ready for 
 the great races between the Neptunes, the Bergen Pointers 
 and the Kittens. They rowed in single shells and in eight- 
 oared shells, and great was the rivalry between the clubs. 
 
 These clubs also owned barges for four and eight oars, and 
 in the long twilight evenings of the summer, the oarsmen took 
 their best girls out for a pull, duly chaperoned, of course, by 
 some obliging older woman who sat at her ease in the cush- 
 ioned stern. Each girl sat by her man, his oar reaching across 
 her, and straight she had to sit or else she would have been 
 thwacked in front or bumped behind. Yet it was a great pleas- 
 ure, ending with ice cream at the Latourette House, in Bergen 
 Point, and the quiet row home in the warm dusk, to the sound 
 of the dripping oars and young voices singing in unison. 
 
 In dry weather only was it possible to drive over the coun- 
 try roads which intersected the Island, and which were the 
 only means of communication for the small towns strung along 
 them at long intervals like beads on a string. 
 
 Our woods were full of tall chestnut trees then, and oaks 
 and the white trunks of beech and birch. The lovely dogwood 
 and the dark green of the cedars stood in familiar contrast. 
 Fringed gentians were for the picking when the "woods" at 
 the top of Bard Avenue boasted big trees and not the scrub of 
 second growth, and arbutus nestled under the dead leaves fur- 
 ther inland. 
 
 Silver Lake was full of white waterlilies and the yellow 
 ones grew in the nearby ponds. Anemones, spring-beauties 
 and hepaticas grew all through our woods where the foot of 
 the urban dweller had not trod and his vandal hand had not 
 torn up our beautiful flowers by the roots. 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 21 
 
 The Marble House—St. Marks Hotel— 
 Hotel Castleton 
 
 The Marble House, about No. 125 St. Marks Place, was 
 built about 1821 by Gilbert L. Thompson, a son-in-law of Gov- 
 ernor Tompkins. It changed owners many times, one of the 
 purchasers being August Belmont who used it as a residence 
 for a number of years. Later the place came into the posses- 
 sion of John C. Green whose residence stood where now stands 
 the Curtis High School. In due time, Mr. Green sold, but, in 
 order to preserve his view over the broad waters of the Up- 
 per Bay, with the proviso that only one house should stand on 
 the property. The purchaser, a hotel man, recognized the pos- 
 sibilities of the site, and proceeded to expand the one house in 
 a manner that brought astonishment to the mind of Mr. Green 
 and abbreviation to his outlook. 
 
 The new owner apparently fed the Marble House from the 
 left side of the mushroom ; for, like Alice in Wonderland, it 
 grew and it grew until, lo, the St. Marks Hotel filled all the 
 view, and Mr. Green had learned something concerning the mu- 
 tability of contracts. 
 
 This became a very popular summer resort until it was de- 
 molished about 1889, ar, d tne Hotel Castleton arose in its stead. 
 Times were changing, however. No longer did the summer so- 
 journers throng to Staten Island, and, but for a small group of 
 New Yorkers, who, though they had the wherewithal yet 
 must needs stick to their lasts, it was the ghosts of the past 
 chiefly that thronged the halls of the Castleton, and after lan- 
 guishing for eight long years, it burned on November 12, 1907, 
 and the fire insurance companies came nobly to the rescue. 
 
 Mr. Anthon was told in 1850 that there were caves in the 
 hill near the Marble House, occupied during the Revolution by 
 Hessian soldiers. A Captain Blake told him of his visit to these 
 Hessian underground habitations to get money for a beef which 
 had been run through by them. He said they were fed on 
 slices of pork shaken up with rum and sugar, which latter they 
 called "schnapps." 
 
 Hamilton Avenue 
 
 Hamilton Avenue was locally known as Sunny or Lovers' 
 Lane. On a sunny day there were always warm places along 
 
22 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 this one-time sheltered road that bends like a cupid's bow and, 
 as it was sequestered, it must needs be a "Lovers' Lane." 
 
 Jones Family 
 
 John Q. Jones resided at the west corner of Nicholas Street. 
 He, his brother Joshua, with two sisters, made the house their 
 residence. They died one by one, but up to the death of the 
 last the table was always set and meals served for four. 
 
 Site of St. Peters Parochial School 
 
 Here formerly stood the A. M. Proudfit mansion, later 
 called the Harding mansion, about which there was much un- 
 explained mj'stery. The house had the reputation of being 
 haunted. A former tenant tells how exactly as the clock struck 
 the hour of noon was heard a sound as of a woman dressed in 
 silks, slowly descending the staircase and passing down the 
 hall past the dining room door. This occurred day after day 
 and always at the same moment. Watchers could never see 
 anything, but one day when an adventurous member of the fam- 
 ily put herself in the way of the ghost, at the foot of the stairs, 
 she distinctly felt the swish of a skirt on her ankle. One room 
 which was claimed to be a store-room was always locked. The 
 sounds emanating from this room at night were such that no 
 one could ever be induced to sleep in an adjoining room a sec- 
 ond time, while in the basement at the exact hour of 8 o'clock 
 every evening the dishes would rattle as though the house was 
 shaken by some convulsion of the earth, and frightened serv- 
 ants would refuse to return to the kitchen until the light of day 
 dispelled all black shadows. This Harding house was for a 
 number of years and until it was demolished the home of the 
 Democratic Club. 
 
 The Greek Temple Buildings 
 
 The Greek temple buildings, which were a notable feature 
 of the New Brighton landscape, were built by Thomas E. 
 Davis in 1839. One of these he occupied as a residence. The 
 others were gradually sold to prominent men chiefly from New 
 York. Being visible from the water, they were one of the 
 sights of the Upper Bay. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 23 
 
 A Civil War Incident 
 
 One of the Greek temple buildings was purchased in 184 1 
 by a Mr. Ernest Fiedler who entertained a great deal and 
 whose home was the scene of almost constant gaiety. 
 
 At some social function here, during the period of the Civil 
 War, the commanding officer of Fort Lafayette was among 
 those present. While the gaiety was at its height he was called 
 outside and handed a telegram announcing a great North- 
 ern victory. He immediately returned to the ballroom and 
 waving the telegram aloft reported the good news. Naturally 
 there was a great noise of rejoicing. Much to the astonishment 
 and consternation of the host and most of his guests, however, 
 one of a group of Southern young women present advanced to 
 the wall and grasped a large United States flag which was 
 draped thereon. This she tore down and stamped under foot. 
 There was a tense silence for a moment. It would have been an 
 easy matter to have dealt with a man who had so overstepped 
 the bounds, but with a woman it was a different matter. 
 Finally, the gentlemen formed a double line from the girl to the 
 door, and she was motioned to leave, and so the incident was 
 quietly closed. 
 
 Before the Civil War the Pavilion Hotel was a headquar- 
 ters for Southern planters. When the war broke out the South- 
 ern chivalry sent many of its women and children here to be 
 cared for while the men remained at home to fight the damned 
 Yankees. This was. of course, the highest compliment that 
 could have been paid to the chivalry of the North. These wo- 
 men had in many instances been visitors here for years and 
 were well known in society, consequently, in spite of their 
 sympathies, many of them were entertained in these Staten Is- 
 land homes. 
 
 Pavilion Hotel 
 
 The Pavilion Hotel was in its day one of the most fash- 
 ionable summer hotels of the country. The central part of the 
 original building was erected by Thomas E. Davis about 1828 
 as his residence. After it had been so occupied for about four 
 years it was converted into a hotel. An immense saloon was 
 built in the rear and two wings were added, each larger than 
 the original building. A colonnade more than two hundred 
 feet in length in front of the building afforded a place for stroll- 
 
2 4 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 ing. A covered promenade of the same length connected the 
 three divisions of the building — the saloon was 75 by 80 feet 
 with a large dome sustained by a multitude of Corinthian pil- 
 lars and lighted at night by immense chandeliers. All the 
 rooms ''have elegant Italian marble mantles and are furnished 
 in a degree of elegance and luxury rarely equalled by the 
 largest hotels of the cities" (old newspaper). Its old registers 
 contain such names as those of General Winfield Scott, Henry 
 Clay, General Santa Anna, Martin Van Buren, John C. Breck- 
 enridge, Horatio Seymour, Jennie Lind, Mme. Adelina Patti, 
 Signor Brignoli and a large number of others, in fact, almost 
 every well known name of that period. 
 
 Some industrious compiler, whose bent was facts, gathered 
 so much from old newspapers some thirty years ago. But the 
 human interest part of the story has been neglected. This ho- 
 tel flourished during the Mexican and Civil Wars and during 
 the reconstruction period when feeling was high and bitter. It 
 was frequented by Southerners as well as those from the North. 
 Unquestionably there was much of the picturesque, much that 
 would be of more than passing interest today, possibly a few 
 thrillers, as heated arguments were in order just preceding the 
 Civil War. In fact, so strong was the Southern element here 
 that New Brighton had a bad name with the loyal element, 
 which largely passed by on the other side. 
 
 Westervelt Avenue — Belmont Hall 
 
 Westervelt Avenue was laid out by Dr. John S. Westervelt 
 through his farm. The Doctor was a son-in-law of Governor 
 Tompkins and was health officer of the port. He appears to 
 have been one of those men to whom the accumulation of 
 money was not very much of a task. 
 
 Belmont Hall, on the Terrace immediately west of Wester- 
 velt Avenue, was erected as a dwelling in 1832 by Captain 
 Thomas Lawrence who conducted a distillery nearly opposite 
 on a small wharf known as Still House Landing. After a few 
 years the Lawrence house became a military academy and, 
 later, oh, shades of Bacchus! a temperance hotel. Three 
 churches were organized in its parlor. It was closed about 
 1898 and has since been demolished. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 25 
 
 Hessian Spring and Jersey Street 
 
 Hessian Spring, which occupied the valley east of Jersey 
 Street, appears to have consisted of one large spring to which 
 a number of smaller springs were contributary. Its name 
 comes from the alleged fact that there was a Hessian encamp- 
 ment at this place. About 1830 the valley was dammed and a 
 mill pond formed. Here a grist mill was built by Abraham 
 Crocheron, but the panic of 1837 closed it. It was known 
 in later years as the Duck Pond, and a neighborhood not safe 
 for a person to travel in at night. 
 
 In the "Abstract of the Title of Thomas E. Davis to Certain 
 Lands in Castleton" (1834) occurs the following: 
 
 " . . . the said party of the second part, his heirs and as- 
 signs shall have . . . the spring called the Hessian Spring, 
 being upon said block or square, number sixty, for the pur- 
 poses of watering the village of Tompkinsville and the premi- 
 ses hereby conveyed, or for any other purpose, and forty feet 
 square of land surrounding and including said spring for the 
 purpose of erecting thereon buildings and machinery for rais- 
 ing said water . . 
 
 The following is from the Mirror of February 3rd, 1838: 
 
 "On Thursday last, five or six men were engaged in cutting 
 ice for the New Brighton Association on the mill-pond just be- 
 hind Hessian Spring, at this place ; the ice gave way and they 
 were precipitated into the water. All were rescued but one, 
 Mr. William Ford, who was drowned." 
 
 In 1838, there was talk of converting Hessian Spring and 
 its valley into a place "with vine-hung arbors" where the weary 
 traveler could be at rest. The locality is described at that time 
 as follows: "Tall trees bend their cooling shade over the 
 streamlet that leaps from this antiquated source and the hills 
 come sloping in gradually from every direction. Everything 
 seems to have conspired to render this sweet retreat a perfect 
 paradise." In this day, noting the present condition of the 
 locality, one is forced to the belief that the conspiracy of civil- 
 ization against the beauties of Nature has been the only suc- 
 cessful conspiracy hereabouts. 
 
 Before the forest was cut from this region a deep ravine ex- 
 tended from salt water back toward the spring ; into this ravine 
 the tide ebbed and flowed. This was used as a hiding place by 
 the smugglers that infested the coast. In this ravine Gilbert 
 
26 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 Thompson, son-in-law of Governor Tompkins, built a schooner 
 in which he and his family sailed for Texas where he joined 
 General Sam Houston in the campaign against Mexico. After 
 the capture of Santa Anna, Thompson enabled him to escape to 
 Staten Island. This is the same Thompson who built the Mar- 
 ble House. 
 
 Smuggling in the Olden Time 
 
 [From Richmond County Gazette, September 26, 1866.] 
 
 The numerous rivulets and passages on the coasts of Long 
 Island furnished many retreats for smugglers. There were 
 several places on Staten Island also in which these daring sea- 
 men sheltered themselves and concealed their goods, and tradi- 
 tion tells of one which was long used for this purpose. It was 
 situated on the north shore near the mouth of the Kills, and the 
 precise locality of its entrance is now occupied by the old 
 steamboat wharf at New Brighton. A deep ravine extended 
 from the shore a few rods into the island, into which the tide 
 ebbed and flowed, and could only be entered by a vessel at 
 high water. It was, as what is left of it still is, the channel 
 through which the waters of the Hessian Spring — as it was 
 afterward called — found their outlet. 
 
 The ravine, though much changed, is now occupied by the 
 print works. At the time of which we write t.ie sides of this 
 ravine were densely wooded, and the limbs of the trees on the 
 opposite sides thereof met each other, and effectually concealed 
 from external observation any vessel that had entered it. At 
 this time, too, there stood on the western declivity thereof, in 
 the midst of the original forest, a small wooden building, then 
 already called the old mill, though probably it had never been 
 used for that purpose; for the waters of the spring had never 
 been dammed, and were not copious enough to afford any use- 
 ful amount of power, a fact which the proprietor perhaps dis- 
 covered after he had erected the building, and consequently 
 abandoned it. But for whatever purpose it had been erected, 
 there it stood. 
 
 The public road, which at that time was little better than a 
 mere path, as it approached the ravine, left the shore, and after 
 passing around the spring to the south, returned again to the 
 water's edge, and as the population in that part of the island 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 27 
 
 was very sparse, perhaps not half a dozen persons passed the 
 spot after nightfall in the course of a year; consequently this 
 secluded dell afforded a convenient and safe retreat for the 
 smuggler. 
 
 One evening, a belated farmer, as he was passing around 
 the spring, perceived a light glimmering through the trees in 
 the direction of the water. His first impression undoubtedly 
 was that it was of a supernatural character, but as he stood a 
 moment to observe it, he heard the sound of a human voice, 
 and as he had never heard that a ghost was invested with the 
 power of audible speech, he naturally concluded that there 
 were at least two human beings there, the speaker and the 
 speakee. 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, he cautiously approached 
 the place, and concealed himself, in order to make his observa- 
 tions unseen by others. Though he could not hear all that was 
 said distinctly, he caught some of the conversation, from which 
 he inferred that those he saw before him were smugglers. This 
 opinion was confirmed by perceiving several small parcels and 
 casks conveyed by men from a vessel in the creek toward the 
 old mill. 
 
 After spending half an hour in making his observations, he 
 departed with the intention of inspecting the place by daylight. 
 Accordingly, early the next morning, he returned to the lo- 
 cality, and as he was about to descend toward the creek, he 
 perceived a man approaching from the opposite direction, 
 whom he at once recognized as a city merchant residing tem- 
 porarily upon the Island. From his place of concealment, he 
 observed the new-comer approach the old building, and hav- 
 ing looked cautiously around, saw him unlock the door, enter, 
 and close it again. 
 
 The farmer must have been a man of quick perceptions, for 
 he immediately devised a plan by which he conceived that his 
 own perpendicular personal pronoun might derive some bene- 
 fit from his discovery. Knowing that he could not be seen 
 from the side in which the door was situated, as there were no 
 windows there, he approached the building and began to speak 
 in a loud, authoritative tone, as if he were accompanied by sev- 
 eral other persons. "Conceal yourselves," he cried, "among 
 the bushes, and if the vessel of the smugglers enters the creek 
 at any time during the day, fire upon it. Shoot any man who 
 
28 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 insists upon entering the ravine after being warned off, and 
 above all, suffer no one to enter or leave the mill. 
 
 "The cutter will be around perhaps tomorrow and you will 
 be relieved tonight. In the meantime, keep perfect silence 
 among yourselves." 
 
 Having delivered his orders to his imaginary subordinates, 
 he withdrew to a little distance to observe the consequences, 
 but no sign was made. 
 
 The poor merchant in the mill had heard every word and 
 had the comfortable conviction that he was effectually trap- 
 ped. The day passed, during which the farmer visited the 
 place two or three times, and the merchant was starving in his 
 prison. After dark he again approached the place, and again 
 repeated his orders to his imaginary relief guard. Early the 
 next morning he was again at the mill and, tapping at the door, 
 he called out in a subdued tone, "Mr. Boerman, Mr. Boerman." 
 The door of the mill was cautiously opened, and the famished 
 Mr. Boerman inquired who called? 
 
 "I did", said the farmer ; "the cutter marines have just gone 
 away, and now is the time for you to escape if such is your de- 
 sire; they may return again very soon." Mr. B. immediately 
 came out of the building and, after locking the door, departed 
 in company of the farmer. On the way the latter informed his 
 companion that he had seen the smugglers unload in the creek, 
 that the following morning he had seen him enter the mill, and 
 that almost immediately thereafter he had seen the guard set; 
 and that he had watched the place closely ever since in order 
 to find an opportunity of relieving the prisoner, which had not 
 occurred until that moment. 
 
 What more took place must be left to the imagination of the 
 reader. The story goes that when the merchant found how 
 much the farmer knew, he purchased his silence at a round 
 price, and that the farmer's house thenceforward was amply 
 supplied with various specimens of choice liquors. 
 
 The Cement House — Hamilton Park 
 
 At the corner of the Terrace and Franklin Avenue stood 
 the Cement House built about 1834 by George A. Ward, a gen- 
 tleman of wealth. This is said to have been the first building 
 ever constructed of concrete blocks. A local paper of 1837 savs 
 of it: "This building is a sufficient curiosity to start half the 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 29 
 
 world on a pilgrimage to Staten Island." At one time the Eng- 
 lish Consul General occupied the place as a summer home. 
 Mrs. Willcox recalls hearing Mr. Ward, the son of the builder, 
 state that the house was a reproduction of the English house 
 in which the older man was born. It was a square, two-story 
 and battlemented, and either side of the steps was guarded by 
 couchant lions. 
 
 Hamilton Park, bounded by York Avenue, Prospect Ave- 
 nue, Franklin Avenue and Buchanan Street, was opened by 
 Charles Hamilton of Halifax, whose pet scheme was a bridge 
 from about the high land of the Park over the kills to Bergen, a 
 plan that seems feasible, and which could possibly be a solution 
 of the present subway problem, over which many of those who 
 own their own homes on Staten Island do not appear to be 
 very enthusiastic. 
 
 August R. Grote 
 
 Off Franklin Avenue and opposite Christ Church formerly 
 stood a group of "Jackson Cottages." For two years one of 
 these was occupied by August R. Grote, the celebrated natural- 
 ist and poet, who sold his collection of North American moths 
 to the British Museum. Mr. Grote's history rightly belongs to 
 Rockland Avenue, where his love of nature had ample oppor- 
 tunity to develop. 
 
 An Exclusive Ferry 
 
 This North Shore section thought so well of itself that it 
 had a ferry all its own to which the common people were not 
 admitted. The morning and evening trips to and from New 
 York were more in the nature of social gatherings than mere 
 adventuring into the world of business or home. Groups of 
 those of similar tastes or interests came naturally together on 
 the deck with reasonable certainty that none of the common 
 herd would intrude. 
 
 This, of course, tended to create feeling between the native 
 born and those who purchased the latter's land and groceries, 
 and unkind remarks were sometimes passed, particularly when 
 some interloper was forced to retire from the boat. This ceased, 
 however, as better boats were put on the regular line which 
 in due time the rich themselves patronized to the neglect of 
 their own classy, but out-classed ferry. 
 
30 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 "The Stone Jug" 
 
 At the corner of Tysen Street still stands the picturesque 
 stone residence built about 1770 by Captain John Neville, a re- 
 tired naval officer. This was at one time the home of Judge 
 Jacob Tysen, who was supervisor of the Town of Castleton, 
 County Judge from 1822 to 1840, and State Senator in 1828. He 
 was a member of the Consistory that built the present Dutch 
 Church at Port Richmond. It was in this house that Raymond 
 M. Tysen, a son of Judge Tysen, was born. He was a Prince- 
 ton graduate and studied law in the office of one of New York's 
 most able lawyers. John Anthon has said that Raymond Tysen 
 was one of the most brilliant young lawyers he knew and that 
 had he lived his future was assured. 
 
 Raymond Tysen gathered material for a history of Staten 
 Island, but does not appear to have published much beyond a 
 pamphlet entitled "A Lecture on the History of Staten Island" 
 (delivered before the Tompkinsville Lyceum, by Raymond M. 
 Tysen, Esq., Tuesday, April 12th, 1842). He died in Savan- 
 nah, Ga., May 8, 1851, and is buried in the Staten Island Ceme- 
 tery. West New Brighton. 
 
 The Tysen farm was purchased for the Sailors Snug Har- 
 bor, which adjoins on the west. Those who recall the palmy 
 days of the North Shore speak of the Tysen place as one of its 
 chief beauty spots, with handsome flower beds bordered by box 
 and kept in the most exquisite order. 
 
 S^Iors Snug Harbor 
 
 In 1801 Robert Richard Randall whose riches rolled in "by 
 honest privateering", as he put it, made a will and at the in- 
 stigation of Alexander Hamilton*, who with Daniel D. Tomp- 
 kins had been summoned to draw the will, left his farm for the 
 benefit of "aged, decrepit and wornout sailors." He selected as 
 trustees the Chancellor of New York, Mayor and Recorder of 
 New York City, President of the Chamber of Commerce, Presi- 
 dent and Vice-President of the Marine Society, and the senior 
 Clergymen of the Episcopalian and Presbyterian churches of 
 the city. The offices of chancellor and recorder have been abol- 
 
 * There are those who claim that the Sailors Snug Harbor was the Cap- 
 tain's own inspiration and that Hamilton had nothing to do with the incep- 
 tion of the idea. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 3i 
 
 lished, the others continue. This farm now lies in the heart of 
 Manhattan, being bounded by Broadway, Tenth Street, Fourth 
 Avenue and Waverly Place. 
 
 In 181 7 Governor Tompkins offered to donate to the Snug 
 Harbor ten acres of land on Staten Island, but the offer could 
 not be accepted because at that time the income was not suffi- 
 cient for the operating expenses, but by 183 1 conditions had 
 improved and the trustees purchased 130 acres where the Har- 
 bor is now situated. 
 
 In the course of time the politicians discovered that the sail- 
 or votes of the institution were worth cultivating, the most 
 effective cultivator being a $2 bill. The purchasing of votes 
 became so open and shameless that Captain G. D. S. Trask, 
 governor of the harbor from 1884 to 1898, undertook to put a 
 stop to it, and his assassination was unsuccessfully attempted 
 by a disgruntled sailor. 
 
 Logan Spring or Harbor Brook runs through the dike, 
 which has been built across the swampy hollow just west of 
 the Sailors Snug Harbor. 
 
 "Our Neighborhood" 
 
 While New Brighton was distinguished as a brilliant so- 
 cial center, West New Brighton, or rather "Our Neighbor- 
 hood", was known to fame because of its literary colony which 
 attracted many remarkable and interesting people. Among 
 these appear such names as Elliott, Shaw, Gay, Curtis, Win- 
 throp, Delafield, Minturn, Johnson. Weston, Tuckerman, De 
 Puyster, Oakey, Davidson, Bard and others, people of wide 
 literary fame, an important group of so-called "Black Re- 
 publicans" whose anti-slavery sentiments carried weight. 
 There was also a goodly sprinkling of men who were a power 
 in financial circles who preferred to exercise their intellectual 
 faculties rather than their feet, a la New Brighton. 
 
 The Glory That Has Departed 
 
 Mr. Louis P. Gratacap. long a resident of "Our Neighbor- 
 hood," has recorded his recollections of its golden age as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 "Where formerly the picturesque bluffs were encumbered 
 along their bases with multitudinous boulders and benches we 
 now have the useful but scarcely beautiful embankments, 
 
32 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 bridges and fillings of the Rapid Transit R. R. The attractive 
 cove that once indented the shore-line at the Pelton farmstead 
 is being rapidly obliterated ; the little banks over which strag- 
 gled a wandering foot-worn path from Davis Avenue to the 
 same cove, is not recalled in the smoothed slopes of the deco- 
 rous terrace. 
 
 "The sleeping or swiftly passing fleets of oyster sloops 
 formed a beautiful feature of that ancient day. Boating was a 
 favorite pastime along the shore and the nights were often 
 charmed with song from the many boat-parties that were oared 
 along its banks. 
 
 "Old land-marks in the stylish old frame villas with their 
 scrupulous lawns, their pretentious neatness and freshness have 
 all gone now and the wretched wrecks of themselves only re- 
 main. 
 
 "Factoryville was — let me confess — perhaps a less tidy 
 place than it is today, but it had its interesting picturesqueness 
 and the old "Yellow Row" is recalled as a spot where the bel- 
 ligerent small boy lurked for his foe; while the murky black- 
 purple tide of the Dye-House stream blighted the scene. 
 
 "A small group of houses — many of them still standing — at 
 the present station of Livingston, was known as Elliottville, 
 named so from the famous oculist, Dr. Elliott, who erected 
 them. An old deserted church for a long time stood facing the 
 present First Street, its congregation having built at the head 
 of Davis Avenue the present St. Mary's. Facing the hillside 
 south of this was in the spring a wonderful vision of white flow- 
 ering dogwood, those ghostly apparelled trees that gave the 
 name of Aquehonga to our island among the early Indians. 
 
 "The present Livingston station was then a commodious 
 home, occupied in 1865 by the Rikers, later by Mr. and Mrs. An- 
 son Livingston and their daughters, Miss Livingston and Mrs. 
 Harrison. It stood well out in the waters of the channel. Fur- 
 ther along the shore road the present boarding house at the 
 foot of Davis Avenue was a retired villa, belonging, I think, to 
 a Mr. Parker, whose gardens were hopelessly hidden by a high 
 board fence. 
 
 "It was then that there rose at the foot of Bement Avenue 
 three towering Lombardy poplars, whose dark green columns, 
 stiff and effective, were well recognized landmarks up and 
 down the channel. Beyond them on the shore side of the road, 
 and opposite the Gothic villa of Mr. Edward Bement, was a line 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 33 
 
 of beautiful flowering dogwood, whose white splendors made 
 the road there a pathway of delight. A walk on the shore side 
 of the road prevailed all the way from Snug Harbor to Factory- 
 ville, and beyond, as now ; and when, by a popular subscription, 
 a board walk was laid its entire length, the inhabitants, un- 
 sophisticated indeed, felt themselves metropolitanized by rea- 
 son of this expensive convenience. Later again the Shore Road 
 was invaded by a horse-car track, traversed by cars whose 
 gradual dilapidation passed through every phase of decay until 
 the forlorn objects, drawn by horses, became a by-word and a 
 nuisance. 
 
 "Changes have altered the expression, character, and fea- 
 tures of the old Shore Road. Its glories have departed, and the 
 wholesome beauty of much of it is irrevocably lost. It is lined 
 with wrecks of former comeliness and luxury, and the fair love- 
 liness of the old Kill-van-Kull itself, in the days when its 
 depths were filled with fish, when oyster beds were dredged op- 
 posite Pelton's cove and when schools of porpoises rolled 
 through its sparkling waters, is also just a memory. In those 
 long past years inhabitants of Bergen Point, Newark, Eliza- 
 beth and Elizabethport were carried to New York in two hand- 
 some passenger boats — the Red Jacket and the Wyoming — and 
 on one freight boat, the Huguenot. The Richard R. Stockton 
 sped from Perth Amboy to New York, our swiftest steamer, 
 whose wash we boys almost feared and on its return from New 
 York brought with it the daily papers, which, thrown over- 
 board in the Kills, in a rubber bag, were picked up by the row- 
 boat of our single and omnipresent newspaper man. 
 
 "There have been great compensations in all of the recent 
 changes, and living is certainly relieved of many of its former 
 hardships, but the atmosphere, the environment, the unaffected 
 simplicity — yes, and a certain pleasing stateliness as well — the 
 mere physical purity, and grace of the old times, along the Old 
 Shore Road are all quite destroyed." 
 
 The Livingstons and One Watson 
 
 We shall begin with the Livingston house, now the railroad 
 station. 
 
 Livingston is a name of recent origin, adopted by the Rapid 
 Transit as a name for its station here. The depot building is 
 the former residence of Anson Livingston. Because of its ex- 
 posed position, the house was known as Bleak House. 
 
34 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 The Livingston family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Living- 
 ston and two daughters, Mrs. Harrison and Miss Living- 
 ston. The father was a typical gentleman of the old school, 
 tall, handsome, gracious and, while always a gentleman, just 
 as human as the rest of us. It is told how, one day, when the 
 family was driving over Todt Hill, Mrs. Livingston persisted 
 in calling it To-ad Hill, much to the annoyance of the precise 
 head of the family who, after numerous unheeded corrections, 
 remarked : "Mrs. Livingston, if you call this eminence 'To-ad' 
 Hill again, I shall get out upon the 'ro-ad' and walk home." 
 And, according to gossip, he fulfilled his vow to the uttermost. 
 
 The father and daughters spent much time on horseback. 
 Always, before they started, the careful Mrs. Livingston ex- 
 plored the road before the house for loose stones, which she 
 gathered, lest the horses should stumble. Mrs. Livingston 
 was strongly intrenched in her social position and family 
 pride. What a Livingston did was right, regardless of the 
 customs of the world at large. It was her habit to take a morn- 
 ing walk up Bard Avenue. On these occasions, she wore a 
 "short gown and petticoat" and a green calash, the whole being 
 surmounted by a small parasol. This was not an outdoor cos- 
 tume becoming to a lady of her station in life, and if she met 
 any of the neighbors she lowered the parasol and did not see 
 them, the dress acting as a disguise. So, also, if a caller caught 
 her on hei piazza in a costume not suitable for the occasion, 
 she gave no sign of recognition or notice, she merely turned 
 her head aside and ignored the friend on the steps. 
 
 The French class met at the Livingstons. Mrs. Staples 
 and the Johnsons were members. On one occasion the novel 
 read had much to say concerning a particularly worthless and 
 dissipated youth. Each time this character was mentioned, 
 Mrs. Carroll Livingston would exclaim: "How like my Car- 
 roll ! Mr. Carroll to the life !" 
 
 Chip Livingston is recalled as an important member of the 
 family, very dear to the ladies who endowed him with vastly 
 more intelligence than, in the opinion of the neighbors, the facts 
 warranted. Chip was small, and black and tan, and wagged a 
 happy tail ; but he went where they went, leaving an engraved 
 pasteboard — "Mr. Chip Livingston" — when they left their 
 cards. Yet Chip had his lapses, for we have it on the authority 
 of Mrs. Livingston herself, that "he went down to the rocks 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 35 
 
 at the river's edge and played with the rats and other 
 creatures." 
 
 The daughters were clever actors, and often took part in 
 private theatricals with the now grown-up members of the 
 Richmond County Dramatic Society, Mrs. Staples coaching. 
 DeWolf Hopper, a nice young Quaker school boy, but even 
 then showing great talent for dramatics, often acted with them. 
 His Captain Absolute was a charming rendering of that gay 
 and happy youth. 
 
 Mrs. Livingston was present at a rehearsal one evening, 
 and so perfect was his love scene with the heroine in "Naval 
 Engagements," that she, Mrs. Livingston, felt called upon to 
 insist that the young people should "Make it real, my dear." 
 She called first the young lady and suggested it, and then dis- 
 missed her, promising "to make it quite right with the young 
 man." The poor boy was terribly embarrassed when he 
 emerged from the interview, and only great tact and an 
 "elderly-sister" attitude saved the occasion and the play. 
 
 Long before the Livingstons came to the house, it had been 
 occupied by a family named Watson. Mr. Watson was a great 
 student of Shakespeare and a very original mind. He loved 
 in the summer evenings to walk under the great cherry trees 
 which then stood in the center of what is now the asphalt road- 
 bed of Davis Avenue, and repeat Shakespeare aloud — there was 
 only one house within hearing then. One night he had his 
 little boy with him, and was instructing him in the knowledge 
 of the great poet. Mr. Watson would say, with emphasis: 
 " 'Shylock is m' name.' Now, say it! Say it!" Little Freddy 
 in his childish treble would obediently repeat : "Shylock is my 
 name!" This not being satisfactory or dramatic, they would 
 try again, Mr. Watson emphatically shouting, "Shylock is m' 
 name," and little Freddy would pipe out, indifferently and 
 without emphasis, as an uncomprehending child would, 
 "An' Shylock is my name,'* till Mr. Watson, exasperated, would 
 shout : "Damn it ! Damn it ! Can't you say it this way?" 
 
 Once he asked Mr. Gay what he ate for lunch and, on being 
 told "oyster stew", he exclaimed: "Good! I often wonder 
 what is the use of putting the whole machinery of a man's 
 stomach into motion for one damn cracker." 
 
36 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 Elliottville 
 
 On maps of 50 years or more ago this locality is noted as 
 Elliottville. 
 
 When Dr. Samuel McKenzie Elliott came to Staten Island 
 about 183 1 or 1832, he occupied a farm house, still standing, 
 which faced the water between Bard and Davis Avenues. As 
 the Doctor is said to have occupied 30 houses in the 28 years 
 he resided on the Island, it is to be presumed he did not long 
 remain here. The next tenant in this house was John Bard, 
 after whom Bard Avenue was named, and his successor was 
 Edward Wanten Gould. 
 
 Dr. Elliott purchased land west from Bard Avenue. The 
 avenue originally was a farm lane and in the early days was 
 known as "Nurses Lane" because its quiet shade was popular 
 with nurse maids and their young charges. When the Doctor 
 began to develop the property he put up along the lane signs 
 bearing the name Elliottville. There was opposition to this 
 name and the Delafield boys, grandsons of John Bard, des- 
 troyed the signs and put up "Bard Avenue" in their place and 
 as the boys were more persistent than the Doctor, the name 
 remained. 
 
 It is related that Dr. Elliott was so firmly convinced that 
 Staten Island was to be the great civic center in days to come, 
 that when he was offered the choice of the sites now occupied 
 by the Flatiron Building or the Metropolitan Life Insurance 
 Company, on Manhattan Island, or this property at West New 
 Brighton, he chose the latter as holding the best prospects for 
 the future — so well did the Island think of itself in the eighteen- 
 thirties. 
 
 Dr. Elliott was a remarkable man. He was the first medi- 
 cal practitioner in this country who made a specialty of the 
 eyes. Methods were crude and he was compelled to originate 
 at every turn. Mrs. Curtis has stated that the Doctor would 
 require his patient to lie on his back on the floor and, while he 
 operated, held the head of the sufferer firmly between his knees. 
 We all know how difficult it is to do two distinctly different 
 things at the same time and, when we consider that chloroform 
 was only discovered in 1831, and that anaesthetics were not 
 then commonly used, a patient undergoing such an operation 
 would not be apt to lie still. That the doctor could keep his 
 mind on his knees which were acting as a vise and also on his 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 37 
 
 hands that were performing one of the most delicate operations 
 known, is more than remarkable. 
 
 The most noted men of the country came to Dr. Elliott for 
 treatment. Francis George Shaw, father of Mrs. George Wil- 
 liam Curtis, removed from Boston to Staten Island to be near 
 the doctor on account of his wife's eyes. 
 
 When the Civil War came the Doctor, who was a Scotch- 
 man, advertised for "red-headed Macs with a bad temper", and 
 organized the "Seventy-ninth Highlanders" at his own ex- 
 pense, some $30,000. His daughter, Miss Elizabeth, who until 
 recently lived on Staten Island, acted as enrolling officer, and 
 all his three sons enlisted. The New York Tribune of May 7. 
 1875, spoke of him as "emphatically one of the men who impart 
 the element of the picturesque to common affairs, a person of 
 very strong, original, eccentric character. A man of positive 
 genius in his profession." 
 
 The Doctor was extremely eccentric, but very kind. He 
 had many charity patients who came for treatment early in the 
 morning. On these he worked until the 8 o'clock boat passed 
 the end of Bard Avenue, would then jump into his buggy and 
 race the boat to the second landing. This was his regular 
 morning programme. 
 
 The Doctor left many pleasant and humorous memories be- 
 hind him. In the days when spirit rappings were taken seri- 
 ously, a party consisting of the Shaws, the Elliotts and others 
 was amusing itself one evening listening to rappings and la- 
 boriously translating them. The code was so simple that any 
 ghost could understand it; one rap meant A, two B, etc. Fi- 
 nally some one said, let's ask who it is that is sending us these 
 messages from the other world. When they did, the answer 
 that came consisted of a series of consonants that those pres- 
 ent could not translate. A second call brought the same iden- 
 tical response. Finally, some one noticed a singular expression 
 on the Doctor's face and asked if he had any explanation of the 
 answer. "Yes," said he, "that is the name of my Welsh grand- 
 mother." 
 
 One of the houses erected by Dr. Elliott was the Decatur 
 house on the north side of Livingston Place. Decatur was a 
 lineal descendant of Commodore Decatur. There was a nar- 
 row strip in the garden of the Decatur plot on which the Doc- 
 tor erected a church so small it was like a toy, but though 
 small, it was very complete, having among other things a bar- 
 
38 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 rel organ fitted with the entire music for the Episcopal service. 
 This church was called St. Mary's and when it became too 
 small, a new St. Mary's at Castleton and Davis Avenues was 
 built. The entire silver service was presented by the Doctor. 
 The small original church building was burned some time after 
 it was vacated, by a crazed incendiary who lived in a hovel on 
 the shore at the foot of Davis Avenue and who was a terror to 
 the neighborhood. 
 
 Dr. S. R. Elliott, eldest son of Dr. S. M. Elliott, who lived 
 and died in a house, which stood until recently on the water- 
 side at the foot of Bard Avenue, was another remarkable man. 
 Gottschalk, hearing him compose certain dreamy melodies pre- 
 dicted a wonderful future as a musician. Longfellow offered 
 to bring him up for a literary career because of his quaint 
 verses. He was the champion broadswordman at the Univer- 
 sity of Heidelberg when studying there. 
 
 In Paris there came to him high honors for his work in both 
 medicine and music. He was requested by the Empress Eu- 
 genie to play before the imperial court where he won great ap- 
 plause. He served through the Civil War, taking part in 30 
 engagements. Many stories of his heroism are told. He with 
 a chum composed several sermons which were preached by a 
 leading divine and which became famous for their literary qual- 
 ities and profound theological erudition. 
 
 His physical strength was abnormal. Indian clubs which 
 he used habitually were almost too heavy for the ordinary 
 man to lift. He could crack a coin with his fingers. He once 
 carried five men up a long and steep flight of stairs. His mem- 
 ory was as phenomenal as his physical strength. Once he read 
 a poem that appealed to him he never forgot it. It was the 
 same with an opera. He wrote prose and poetry for the At- 
 lantic Monthly, Harper's Weekly, the Churchman and the Con- 
 gregationalism Such is an extremely brief summary of an un- 
 usual character. 
 
 Warren Weston 
 
 Warren Weston who lived at the easterly corner of the Ter- 
 race and Bard Avenue was one of the old East India tea mer- 
 chants of the days when the clipper ships in the tea trade were 
 the fastest ships that sailed the seas, a period of sea romance 
 such as only the days of the Vikings can equal, though very 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 39 
 
 different. Mr. Weston was full of humor, a most agreeable 
 companion and, while not a writer of note as were so many of 
 his neighbors, he yet possessed a considerable skill in language. 
 
 John Parkman 
 
 The John Parkman place. This house stands immediately 
 east of the Weston home. Its date of erection is not known, but 
 it must be considerably over a hundred years ago, if the state- 
 ments of a former slave well known hereabouts in years long 
 gone are to be relied on. He has told Mrs. Curtis that he was 
 born in the house the year after the law was passed in New 
 York, which freed all those born of slave parents. This act is 
 dated in April, 1799. This man's name was Nicholas DeHart 
 and he was generally regarded as very reliable. The cellar 
 beams of the house show that they were hewn by hand, and the 
 woodwork throughout is hand carved. The earliest name now 
 available of ownership is that of Abraham Crocheron who 
 deeded the property in 1835. Livingston Place, now called De- 
 lafield Place, which runs back of it, was formerly called Croch- 
 eron Avenue and later First Street. This last name is used in 
 Beer's Atlas of 1874. 
 
 "Claus" 
 
 One of the earliest recollections of the children of Our 
 Neighborhood was "Old Claus". It was Mr. Parker who gave 
 him this name, his real one being Nicholas De Hart. 
 
 He was born a slave on the Crocheron farm, which lay 
 south of what is now Livingston Station, and of which Bard 
 Avenue was the lane running back to the fields. There was 
 no shore road then, no transverse street — the farmers went 
 from farm to farm by rowboat. The "top" of Bard and Davis 
 Avenues was thick woods long after the time Claus was born. 
 The Crocheron house stood near the end of the lane, with an 
 unbroken view of the Kills and up the Bay. 
 
 When the slaves were set free, many of them went to Sandy 
 Ground, which was well named! I have read that with the 
 emancipation of the slaves in the North it was customary to 
 give them a bit of land for settlement, and characteristically 
 the poorest ground was selected. Sandy Ground did not prove 
 a very paying proposition, so the colored men took to oystering 
 and made good. Before our waters were so polluted by factory 
 
4 o 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 waste that no oyster can live in them, there were many com- 
 fortable homes in Sandy Ground — staunch oyster sloops rode 
 at anchor off Rossville, owned and manned by colored men. 
 
 Claus was only a boy when he was emancipated, and he 
 stayed with his mother and worked for the neighbors. He be- 
 came an experienced gardener and took care of Mr. Parker's 
 garden. Mr. Parker lived in the big house on the corner of 
 Davis Avenue and the shore. They were Boston people who, 
 following the custom of their fellow-countrymen, left their city 
 houses always before the May taxes were levied. They had one 
 daughter and entertained a great deal. The house was un- 
 heated save for the open fires. The west wing was not con- 
 nected with the main house, but was reached by an outside 
 staircase and was used for the men guests. 
 
 Miss Parker became Mrs. Charles Goodhue, and lived in 
 the big house at the head of Clinton Avenue, and which she ul- 
 timately willed to the Children's Aid Society for a country 
 home. 
 
 Later Claus gardened for my parents, and a fine garden they 
 had in the rich, fresh loam of unused soil. My mother used 
 to hire old Mr. Fountain's carryall and, with the baby in her 
 arms, she and Claus, his spade at his feet, would drive up the 
 lane to the woods. When they saw a fine, vigorous young tree, 
 beech or elm or oak, out Claus would climb and proceed to dig 
 it up. In this way many of the native trees were moved to 
 our place, and Claus to the day of his death had a strong sense 
 of proprietorship in them. To the trees my father bought and 
 set out he was more or less indifferent. 
 
 When he was too old for gardening he went into the oyster 
 business. He and Aunt Mary Ann lived in a tiny house under 
 the hill on the old Factoryville dock at the foot of Broadway. 
 He bought the oysters fresh from the oyster boats. We grew 
 good oysters in the Kills and the Bay then, and it was a com- 
 mon sight to see the big rowboats swaying in the swells from 
 the ferryboats, a man standing at either end with his long- 
 handled oyster rake, scooping up the unsuspecting bivalve. 
 
 These oysters Aunt Mary Ann cooked and served on the 
 spot, or Claus carried them uncooked to our houses. Espe- 
 cially lucky was the child into whose portion of oyster stew 
 or soup there slipped a tiny, pink-cooked, tender young crab. 
 And never is to be forgotten the feast when Claus brought a 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 4i 
 
 whole half-pint of the little things as a gift. And yet, there 
 was a little shiver attending the first scrunch! 
 
 A lovely, sunny nature had old Claus, and dearly beloved 
 was he by old and young. He had several children, and their 
 descendants still live on Staten Island. 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
 The John Bards 
 
 The John Bards lived in the house at the corner of Bard 
 Avenue and Delafield Place, well set back from the trees on a 
 little rise of ground. Recently it was moved onto Bard Ave- 
 nue — a long, low house with gables facing the road. Mr. Bard 
 must have owned part of the meadow which lay between his 
 property and the Harbor, because it was Mr. Bard who thought 
 he could better Nature by changing the course of the brook 
 which now runs straight to the Kills. In those days it mean- 
 dered back and forth across the meadow, which was perfectly 
 dry and filled with soft meadow grass and flowers; the 
 straightening of this brook left less bed to hold the water when 
 the tide backed up the entrance to the stream, causing its banks 
 to overflow with a brackish mixture, thus changing the char- 
 acter of the meadow to a swampy hollow, which is now being 
 painstakingly filled in by the Sailors Snug Harbor. 
 
 Mrs. Delafield was John Bard's daughter, and lived in the 
 house on the corner opposite her father. This at first they used 
 as a summer place, having what was very rare in this neigh- 
 borhood, an outside kitchen in a building quite detached from 
 the house. In after years they lived here all the year round, 
 and it was a puzzle to the neighbors how, on a cold winter's 
 morning, the griddle cakes could be served hot. 
 
 Another daughter of Mr. Bard was a Mrs. Sands, and she 
 had two sons, of whom Mr. Louis Sands came back to the 
 Island to live with his aunt, Miss Caroline Bard, who had 
 moved with her mother, on the death of Mr. Bard, into the old 
 house on the shore road next door to Mrs. Staples. 
 
 Mr. Sands was an artist and, one day, when he was sketch- 
 ing up in one of the Harbor fields, he heard cries of distress 
 from beyond the stone wall. Climbing over the wall, he dis- 
 covered that Miss Catherine Duer, of New Brighton, had come 
 in violent contact with that dread animal, the Harbor bull. 
 The beast had charged her and she, with great presence of mind 
 and accuracy, had flung herself between his horns, and the 
 
42 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 sight which presented itself to Mr. Sands' eyes was that of 
 the bull, frightened and angry, madly prancing about the field 
 with Miss Duer's arms clasped close around his neck, her 
 flapping skirts completely covering his face. Mr. Sands, like 
 a chevalier of old, sprang to the rescue and seized the beast by 
 the tail. The poor creature, attacked before and behind, be- 
 came more frightened than ever, and charged wildly about the 
 field, Miss Duer shrieking and flapping her feet in front; Mr. 
 Sands, who had very long legs, running madly behind. They 
 were rescued by workmen from the institution grounds. 
 
 Mrs. Delafield and Miss Bard were ladies of the old school : 
 Mrs. Delafield rather vivacious and full of humor; Miss Bard 
 courteous, quiet and demure. 
 
 It was two of the Delafield boys and two of Mr. Hoyt's 
 sons, who lived on Elm Court, and a Bement boy, all young 
 men and ardent Unionists, who, hearing that a Confederate 
 flag was hanging in the Gardner house on Broadway, West 
 Brighton, conceived the idea of getting this Rebel banner. 
 Mrs. Tyler, the widow of President Tyler, lived in the house. 
 The boys went up one evening and rang the bell, found a com- 
 pany of gentlemen playing cards with Mrs. Tyler, and an- 
 nounced that they had come for the flag. One of the gentle- 
 men, on seeing the young men, took refuge under the sofa, and 
 none of them offered any resistance. The flag was found up- 
 stairs, and the boys took it. It was kept in o :e house or the 
 other, being moved at night, no parent knew when, until finally 
 Governor Dix, in response to the appeal of Mrs. Gardner, sent 
 his aides here to demand the flag. This order, of course, had to 
 be obeyed. 
 
 Mr. Sands built a little studio at the back of his aunt's 
 property and, as he was a Catholic, he dubbed the tiny place 
 "The Vatican". Mr. Sands was an exceedingly tall and thin 
 man. It was he who said, when he and his aunt moved into 
 the little one-story and mansard house, where Mrs. Bard died, 
 that when he wanted to turn around in his bedroom, he had to 
 go out in the hall to do it. 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
 The Bailey House 
 
 John Bailey lived on Bard Avenue in another of Dr. Elliott's 
 houses on the northwest corner of Bard Avenue and Delafield 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 43 
 
 Place. His sayings would fill a book, but unfortunately most 
 of them come under the heading of profane history and have 
 no place here. Apparently, Mr. Bailey was something of a 
 martinet, and ruled his household firmly, for we are told that a 
 rice pudding came on the table one night that was not to his 
 liking and, taking it to the dumbwaiter shaft, he called to the 
 boss of the lower regions and, as she responded and looked 
 up, he anointed her head with rice pudding. Biddy was Irish 
 to the pig's backbone, not one of those who turn the other 
 cheek, and she straightway walked up to the West Brighton 
 Police Station, to the magistrate, with the evidence of the 
 assault on her person. The result is not known, but apparently 
 it had a soothing effect for, when some time after, he was 
 asked concerning a former occupant of his kitchen, he spoke 
 well concerning her, winding up with, "Treat 'em kind — you 
 got to treat 'em kind." 
 
 At the back of the house is a cellarway, mound-shaped, cov- 
 ered with sod and edged with stone, and it was popularly 
 rumored that Mr. Bailey told his cooks that was where he in- 
 carcerated them if the food was not to his liking. 
 
 From the side piazza the lawn stretched to the Shore Road, 
 shaded by stately pines; a box-edged walk divided it in the 
 center. Every vestige of its peaceful beauty is gone long since. 
 
 This house was one of Dr. Elliott's, and the Elliott family 
 lived there for a time, as they always did in each new house, ap- 
 parently to "break it in" as a trainer does a new horse before 
 selling him. 
 
 Sometime in the '50's, James Russel Lowell and his most 
 lovely wife, Maria, came to Staten Island that she might be 
 under the immediate care of Dr. Elliott. They were a tran- 
 scendently lovely couple, full of grace and beauty of both body 
 and mind, equals in every particular. They boarded with the 
 Elliotts in this house, occupying the room on the first floor, 
 northeast corner, facing both streets. Accommodations were 
 a bit primitive, even for those days, but they were not prepared 
 to be waked the first morning by a rap on the door and a 
 voice demanding admission that the "sugar basin for breakfast 
 might be fetched from the cupboard". Later in the day dear, 
 kind-hearted Mrs. Elliott asked if she should bring her work 
 and sit with the rather lonesome little invalid. In she came, 
 bringing the chickens to pluck for dinner, a strange piece of 
 fancywork for an afternoon call. 
 
44 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 Mrs. John B. Staples 
 
 In the middle of the block between Bard and Davis Ave- 
 nues, on the Shore Road, lived Mrs. Elizabeth Staples. The 
 front door was reached by a straight brick walk from the front 
 gate, leading under tall, dark pine trees to the high Grecian- 
 pillared portico which stretched across the front of the house. 
 Opposite, on the shore, stood the Staples' boathouse, an im- 
 posing structure where all the neighbors' children learned to 
 swim, and from which Mrs. Staples' delightful crabbing parties 
 started. Several times a summer she took her boys and a 
 chosen few of their small friends across the Kills to the Jersey 
 meadows, where now tower the chimneys and tanks of big in- 
 dustry. The little creeks which wound through the salt 
 marshes were full of crabs and, as the rowboat was poled along 
 the twisting course of the stream, the children, supplied with 
 line and bait, hung eagerly over the sides while Jack Staples 
 or some other big boy, armed with the net, would hurry from 
 one excited, shrieking child to another to scoop up the wiggling 
 crab. Mrs. Staples, seated in the stern of the boat, kept it right 
 side up and the children safely in it. 
 
 It was from the Staples' boathouse, too, that the boys used 
 to start on a perilous winter sport called "poling". In those 
 days the Kills were filled with ice in winter. Then the big 
 cakes from Newark Bay were not swept out by the current, 
 but drifted back and forth as the tide willed. When these 
 touched at the Staples' landing, our boys used to arm them- 
 selves with long poles and, selecting a thick cake, would essay 
 a little voyage. They never went far from shore (at least, their 
 mothers thought they did not), and none of them ever drowned, 
 but it must have been owing to that kind Providence which 
 looks after the small boy. 
 
 Mrs. Staples' Christmas trees were an undying wonder to 
 us all; nothing less than a born genius could have created 
 them: A great, towering mass of a tree reaching from the 
 floor to what seemed to be a ceiling of infinite height, cov- 
 ered thick with a shining, sparkling, glittering coat of silver 
 shreds ; strewed with bright Christmas flowers ; every branch 
 the lurking place of a real, visible little fairy, and surpassing 
 everything else a red-coated Santa Claus driving a four- six- 
 or eight-paired team of tiny glass reindeer up the sparkling 
 pathway which led from branch to branch! 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 45 
 
 Mrs. Staples did not walk into stores and buy ornaments 
 for these wonderful trees, as we do nowadays. She made the 
 flowers and the fairies and the bright colored ornaments with 
 her own hands. The glittering covering which made the tree 
 a bit of fairyland she cleverly procured at some tin factory; 
 it was like what is called silver rain that we now put on our 
 Christmas trees. Mrs. Staples kept her tree in mind all the 
 year and was always making something new for it. 
 
 Her marvelously skillful fingers painted autumn leaves and 
 flowers that were greatly prized among us, done in a minute 
 and detailed fashion, just one flat spray or one flower. She 
 did "spatter-work", too, and there is extant a certain piece of 
 solferino-colored ribbon, fringed at the ends and used as a 
 bookmark in a book too precious to be used "hard", which has 
 the facsimile of a tiny fern outlined and surrounded by minute 
 spatters of black India ink, made by drawing an ink-dipped 
 toothbrush across a finetooth comb, the bit of fern being first 
 pinned securely on the ribbon, a method of artistic expression 
 which is now quite obsolete. 
 
 Mrs. Staples' father was, I think, a native of Ireland, who 
 came to this country and settled up "The River" at Saugerties, 
 where he had a mill or a mine. At any rate, there was a big 
 family of hearty boys and girls and, what was unusual in those 
 days, there was but little difference in their upbringing both 
 mentally and physically. They had a tutor, as there was no 
 school, and boys and girls studied the same things, an almost 
 unheard-of thing a century ago. It was the old classical sys- 
 tem of education. Mrs. Staples knew every rule of Latin 
 grammar and syntax, every conjugation and declension, regu- 
 lar and irregular, and the use of every trifling little adverb and 
 conjunction. She read and spoke French like a native, and she 
 believed devoutly in Peter Parley's History. Many of us "went 
 to school" to Mrs. Staples. It was not like any other school : 
 each child went for an hour a day and read and recited the les- 
 sons learned at home, sitting in front of the open fire, the win- 
 ter sun pouring in the big south window; Mrs. Staples sewing 
 at the other side of the table. She was very nearsighted and 
 held her sewing close to her face ; so close that sometimes the 
 needle would prick her nose. One imaginative boy always 
 maintained that he saw it sticking there while he helped her 
 search the table and her lap for the missing needle. It was not 
 the kind of training and the kind of school the children get 
 
4 6 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 nowadays, but we got some things out of it which the modern 
 child misses altogether. 
 
 A narrow lane ran north from Delafield Place between Mrs. 
 Staples' vegetable garden and barn, to her back door and to 
 lessons. The barn held an important place in the neighbor- 
 hood, for here it was that the Richmond County Dramatic 
 Association held forth. Mrs. Staples coached them, and an 
 admirable coach she was, and for long years did she do it for 
 the private theatricals on our side of the Island. 
 
 The members of the R. C. Dramatic Association were an 
 ambitious lot. They began with the delicious, yellow-covered 
 little plays, like "Box and Cox", and "Poor Pillicoddy", but 
 before long were playing "Hamlet" and "The Rivals". Louis 
 Gratacap, at fourteen, was so good a Hamlet that it was said 
 he copied from Edwin Booth, while others said that Booth aped 
 him! So successful was the performance considered to be, that 
 the George Cabot Wards asked Mrs. Staples and the children 
 to repeat the performance in the parlor in their New York 
 house, for the benefit of the Sanitary Commission. They took 
 in quite a harvest, but the audience did not enjoy it as did the 
 Staten Island neighbors, who saw Louis through the insane 
 Hamlet ; saw through Horatio the little, vivacious, red-headed 
 girl neighbor; and little, quiet Helen singing Ophelia's "Sweet 
 Willow" ! 
 
 Mrs. Staples was an intimate friend of Mrs. Shaw, an inti- 
 mate friend of Mrs. Delafield, and of the Gays, and the John- 
 sons; but she was not of the reformer type. Once, however, 
 she went, probably from curiosity more than conviction, with 
 Mrs. Gay to an anti-slavery meeting in New York. Sometimes 
 these meetings were tame and peaceable, sometimes they were 
 not ; and this occasion proved to be the afternon when Rynders 
 made his infamous assault on the hall. Mrs. Staples, not hav- 
 ing the courage of conviction, and not being used to such 
 riotous proceedings, was really quite scared and, looking wildly 
 about her, exclaimed to a benevolent-looking gentleman near- 
 by: "I must get out. Is there no way for me to get out?" 
 "Yes, madam," he replied calmly. "Certainly, you can get out, 
 if you will allow yourself to be passed over the heads of the 
 people." 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 47 
 
 Mrs. Mose and Her Daughters 
 
 In the early sixties there lived in the house on Livingston 
 Place next to the stone house, an English lady and her two 
 daughters, Mrs. Mose, Miss Lavinia and Miss Miriam. Mrs. 
 Mose was the widow of an English clergyman. How they 
 got to America and why, is lost in the past. 
 
 They kept a select school for young ladies, both boarding 
 and day. Mrs. Mose was a little lady of the early Victorian 
 era, with side curls and gracious, punctilious manners. One 
 of the daughters was more modern and businesslike in her 
 dealings with life. The other was of the clinging-vine type so 
 common to the time, but which was which I never could quite 
 remember, being too young at the time to differentiate the 
 types. They taught the girls in the school and some favored 
 very small boys. I fancy they gave them about as good an 
 education as the girl of the day got anywhere. I know they 
 taught them to paint and to sew in the good old-fashioned way. 
 Mrs. Mose conducted religious services every morning, some- 
 times at length. The main schoolroom was the big room on 
 the ground floor on the south side of the house. The cows of 
 the neighborhood used to stray in search of pasturage up and 
 down our lanes, and if any gate was left open the cattle would 
 wander in, and when Mrs. Mose seemed unduly long in her 
 supplications to her Heavenly Father, it was a very easy mat- 
 ter for .a clever girl to sight a stray cow, or think she did, and 
 cry out, "Mrs. Mose, there's a cow in the garden," and down 
 would go the Bible and spectacles with a crash to the floor, 
 and the head mistress, preceded and followed by Miss Miriam, 
 Miss Lavinia and the entire school, would rush out the big 
 door to chase the intruder from her precious flowers. Miss 
 Betsy Trotwood and the donkeys gave no more delicious thrill 
 to little David than these sallies of the entire Mose estab- 
 lishment gave to the school girls. 
 
 The front of the house was to the north with high Grecian 
 pillars supporting a heavy overhang, and a little lane ran be- 
 tween Mrs. Staples' and Mrs. Bard's places, down to the Shore 
 Road. 
 
 They had merry times at that school, and many were the 
 school-girl tales which were told the admiring younger gen- 
 eration of midnight suppers and pillow fights and such harm- 
 less escapades carried on without disturbing the sedate prin- 
 
4 8 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 cipals of the school. One of the daughters married the elder 
 Mr. Sands, and the other married a Mr. Gardner. Mrs. Mose, 
 in due time, died, and the only memorial of her on the Island 
 are the blue funkias in my garden, of which she gave the 
 roots to my mother more than sixty years ago. 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
 Francis Parkman 
 
 Francis Parkman, the historian, resided for a short time in 
 a house, now gone, which stood on the Bonner property on 
 Bard Avenue. He probably wrote a portion of the "Oregon 
 Trail" here. • 
 
 Charles Meigs — Catamarans 
 
 It is claimed for Charles Meigs, who at first lived in the 
 Beckerman house on First St., but later removed to Davis Ave- 
 nue, that he was the first man on Staten Island to construct a 
 catamaran, those twin hulled boats which originated in the 
 southern seas, and that he sailed it with considerable success, 
 while Anson Phelps Stokes of New Brighton was a close sec- 
 ond. The latter's vessel, however, had a disconcerting way of 
 taking a header — as the landlubber who told the story put it — 
 and tossing its occupants into the sea with a splash. In fact, 
 she appears to have been more in the nature of a bathing ma- 
 chine than a boat. 
 
 An old salt gives his recollection of this pleasing diversion 
 as follows: "Remember the catamarans well, and Nat. Her- 
 reshoff was the first to revive their use and the first successful 
 designer of them, and the ball and socket attachment of the 
 hulls to each other. This feature was patented, and very many, 
 not realizing its importance, tried to evade royalties by mak- 
 ing rigid attachments, among them the parties you mention. 
 The Stokes one, plans of which were submitted to me by a 
 bidder on construction, I condemned and was not mistaken. 
 Her remains were for a long time on the beach in Mulford's 
 Basin, opposite the Commodore Vanderbilt home on Bay 
 Street, Stapleton. She was quite a ship with under deck cabins 
 in both hulls, and must have cost a pretty penny. Never heard 
 of her performing any serious stunts, simply wouldn't go fast. 
 The under water act was peculiar to all styles when over- 
 crowded with sail. The lee hull would take a dive and fetch 
 up while the weather one would somersault over it. Fred 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 49 
 
 Hughes, of the old Cremorne Gardens, New York City, was the 
 great exploiter of catamarans. He spent many thousands on 
 them, and his craft, sailing rings around the Staten Island ferry 
 boats, which were by no means slow, was a common sight 
 every favorable breeze " 
 
 Santa Anna 
 
 Santa Anna, one time President of Mexico, was smuggled 
 to Staten Island in an American vessel, as already recounted, 
 following his defeat during one of the semi-annual revolutions. 
 He lived in this neighborhood for some months, the Govern- 
 ment keeping a watchful eye on him. But certain adventurous 
 gentlemen, thinking the time ripe for a filibustering expedition, 
 packed him in a piano box in which he was carted to the Eliza- 
 bethport ferry and, still boxed, transported to Lewes, Del., 
 where he took ship for Vera Cruz. However, he was shortly 
 after captured on the high seas, and the only one who really 
 profited by the adventure was the man who in the first place 
 sold the piano box. 
 
 H. P. Delafield 
 
 H. P. Delafield, whose place on Bard and Davis Avenues is 
 now the home of the Staten Island Cricket Club, was a promi- 
 nent business man. His grounds were filled with beautiful 
 orchards and flowers. 
 
 His son, Richard, born in West New Brighton in 1853, wn0 
 had considerable musical talent became acquainted with Wer- 
 ner, a well-know cellist from whom he took lessons. His love 
 of music inspired him to organize a series of Philharmonic con- 
 ceits for which the best musical talent New York could afford 
 was engaged. Such names as Mills, the famous pianist, White, 
 said to be the second violinist in the world, Emma Thursby and 
 others of the same order appeared. Staten Island, it is said, 
 has never listened to such music before or since. These con- 
 certs were held in the old West New Brighton Y. M. C. A. 
 building, which became the Police Station, and were continued 
 some five seasons, from about 1876 on. Each musical season 
 was opened with an address either by George William Curtis 
 or Erastus Brooks. 
 
50 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 The Shaws and the Curtises 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Francis George Shaw were the most promi- 
 nent and best beloved people in the neighborhood of Sailors 
 Snug Harbor. 
 
 They had come to Staten Island in the late forties that Mrs. 
 Shaw might be under Dr. Elliott's skillful care and, finding 
 that the climate agreed with her, they bought the property 
 which lies between Bard and Davis Avenues, north of Hender- 
 son Avenue. 
 
 During the family's sojourn abroad the big house was built 
 after plans which were drawn for them in Paris with an elabo- 
 ration of detail quite foreign to us. It was a noble house, with 
 fine big rooms and a wide sweeping staircase, being by far the 
 largest house in the neighborhood with the exception of the 
 Henderson mansion, across Bard Avenue. 
 
 It offered a fitting setting for the master and mistress, 
 large-hearted, benevolent, generous, wise, and far-sighted peo- 
 ple, who gave of their ample means to every good object. They 
 lived elegantly yet without ostentation, and dispensed a cordial 
 hospitality to neighbors and friends. Many distinguished men 
 and women were entertained there, not only fellow country- 
 men, but foreigners, who at that time were more rare than they 
 are now, and usually were people of some distinction in their 
 own country. To these people the Shaws openad their house 
 and entertained them with a finished hospitality, quite subver- 
 sive of the English idea of the day, that all Americans were 
 red-skins and lived in tepees. 
 
 There were four daughters and one son, Robert Gould 
 Shaw, and these children were brought up with a distinct idea 
 of their duty to those less fortunate than themselves, and all of 
 them have in later life given evidence of this training. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Shaw were abolitionists and their children likewise, 
 the son giving his life for the black man. Mr. and Mrs. Shaw 
 helped the poor and unfortunate, and their daughter, Mrs. C. R. 
 Lowell, was the first exponent of the modern method of char- 
 ity, trying her plan on Staten Island before other communities 
 had even heard of organized charity. When the people of 
 Tompkinsville rebelled against the longer maintenance of the 
 Quarantine Hospital on the Island, Mr. Shaw contributed a 
 goodly sum to help defray the expense of the raid which put 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 5i 
 
 an end to the dangerous and offensive nuisance. He was also 
 one of the earliest supporters of the S. R. Smith Infirmary. 
 
 As there were no good schools on the Island then, the son 
 was sent to the Catholic school in Fordham, this institution be- 
 ing of easy access to his home. But the boy hated it and he 
 ran away, appearing at home radiant but a trifle doubtful. 
 
 Many parents of an only adored son would have condoned 
 the affair and tried some other school, but it was characteristic 
 of the Shaws that they should have faced what they considered 
 their duty, and made the boy face his. It was with a firm coun- 
 tenance but an aching heart the next morning that Mrs. Shaw 
 took Bob back to Fordham. It was such training as this that 
 made him the man and the hero for which the cataclysm of the 
 Civil War called. 
 
 He was a wonderfully sweet, lovable boy, the kind that dirt, 
 either moral or physical, never stuck to. His career at Harvard 
 College was uneventful. When the Civil War came he marched 
 with the Seventh Regiment down Broadway. His further ca- 
 reer belongs to the history of the time, and for long ages his 
 name will be a hallowed one with the colored race whose cause 
 he espoused. 
 
 Miss Anna Shaw, afterward Mrs. George William Curtis, 
 was the oldest daughter of the house. A famous horse-woman 
 she was, and it was no uncommon sight to see her handle their 
 spirited horses with the firmness and dexterity of a man. She 
 was a great lover of animals and planned in her girlhood to de- 
 vote herself to the care of the sick or maimed that came across 
 her path. But Mr. Curtis had other ideas on the subject, and 
 they were married before the Civil War broke out. Their sec- 
 ond child was born the day Sumter was fired on, and Mr. Curtis 
 was wont to say that it was amazing how the significance of 
 thai event paled before the advent of that little daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Curtis was a very fine looking woman, not perhaps so 
 handsome as her next sister, Mrs. Robert Minturn. But her 
 charm lay in the absolute frankness and sincerity of her char- 
 acter and its crystal clearness and truth. These characteristics 
 were markedly hers and remained so to her death in August, 
 1923. 
 
 She was a great help to Mr. Curtis, and only those of us 
 who knew the family well realized how much she did for him. 
 He talked difficult situations over with her, relying on that 
 honesty of mind and vision to help him see aright. She did not 
 
52 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 care for society and all the distractions which it brings, and this 
 perhaps helped her to keep her judgment true and unwarped. 
 
 She also served as Mr. Curtis' amanuensis, and after exces- 
 sive writing had produced author's cramp, so that he rarely 
 wrote with anything but a stub of a pencil, she always typed 
 his essays or articles. Hers was the first typewriter in our cir- 
 cle. 
 
 Few people knew the depth of tenderness in her nature, the 
 unsparing devotion and self-sacrifice which she lavished on her 
 little invalid daughter who died in childhood. She was not a 
 demonstrative woman, but one of quick sympathy and gener- 
 ous impulse, and was the worthy successor of her parents in 
 her care for the poor and unfortunate. 
 
 And who can adequately picture Mr. Curtis? His sympathy, 
 his interest, his kindliness, his ever ready service for his neigh- 
 bors ; no task was too small, none too large for him to under- 
 take for the comfort and happiness of his friends. No public 
 movement or meeting was complete without him, no voice 
 could carry comfort to the afflicted as his could. No voice 
 could call to public service like his clarion tones. He was at 
 the call of the public for the oration to be delivered on every 
 great occasion, and after Wendell Phillips, he was the first ora- 
 tor in the country. He was the prime mover in the Civil Serv- 
 ice Reform of the day, and it was this movement which 
 snatched from the party bosses that intolerable custom known 
 as party patronage, which extended to the very lowest posi- 
 tions in our public service. 
 
 Mr. Curtis took a citizen's part in local politics, and in the 
 days when the primaries were not always safe places for a 
 man to be, he always attended them. He led the Republican 
 party on Staten Island, in word and deed and thought, as he did 
 the best minds in the National Party. After the split over 
 Cleveland. Mr. Curtis and the "Mugwumps" took another path. 
 
 For years Mr. Curtis gave up his Sunday mornings to read 
 to a handful of his neighbors the service in the Unitarian 
 Church on Clinton Avenue. It was a liberal education to at- 
 tend that service, as the sermons were selected by him from 
 those of great preachers no matter of what creed. Drawn by 
 this wonderful opportunity to hear the best of the religious 
 thought of the day, delivered in Mr. Curtis' inimitable manner 
 and by his musical voice, the Staten Island people of liberal 
 tendencies filled the little church. It was a pleasant informal 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 53 
 
 occasion after the service, and everybody stood about and 
 talked, inspired by what they had just heard. 
 
 There was also an amateur choir, and Gustave Kissel played 
 the organ with the same skill that Mr. Curtis read the service. 
 
 Mr. Curtis was an eminently social person with a keen eye 
 for details. He would come home from some of his visits to 
 the rich and great, or from big public dinners and recount with 
 the most charming pleasure every detail of the affair, his listen- 
 ers spell-bound. Then in an instant he would turn to his 
 weighty discussion of the serious problems which had been the 
 reason for the visit or the dinner, handling the questions with 
 his clear, sure, upright mind and intelligence, till his listeners 
 were convinced there was only the one way in the world to be 
 followed — at least the younger ones did ! 
 
 He was always most kind and sympathetic to young people, 
 and well do I remember a series of informal dances held for 
 two winters in the Gay's parlors for the younger set, Mr. Curtis 
 sitting at the big piano playing dance music for our tripping 
 feet. 
 
 And when we visited his daughter at Ashfield, nobody could 
 have been a more charming host, drawing us out in conversa- 
 tion, eliciting our fresh, enthusiastic, half-baked opinions. He 
 always spoke to us collectively and jocosely as "A Young Per- 
 son," and some of those opinions can be found in the Easy 
 Chair of the day, as advanced by "A Young Person." 
 
 Mr. Curtis' last appearance in public was at the formal 
 opening of a local fire-house where he delivered the speech of 
 the day, with the same grace of diction and of gesture which 
 always characterized him. 
 
 After the last of the Shaw daughters married, Mr. Shaw 
 bought the Parker house, and here he and Mrs. Shaw and the 
 third daughter, Mrs. Lowell (widowed by the war), and her 
 little girl, lived for years. In one of the pasture lots beyond the 
 barns and the garden, was kept Red Berold, Colonel Lowell's 
 warhorse. He grew old in time, but never too old or too lame 
 to fling up his head and prance about his pasture at the sound 
 of the martial music of parade passing on the Shore Road. 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
 Further Notes on George William Curtis 
 
 Mr. Curtis' home still stands at Bard and Henderson Ave- 
 nues, northwest corner. It was here, Mrs. Curtis has stated, 
 
54 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 that "Prue and I" was written, as were no doubt others of his 
 works. 
 
 It is said the crooked character of Henderson Avenue where 
 it borders the Curtis home is due to sentiment not often found 
 in those who lay out roads. The fact that to continue the 
 street in a straight line would have meant the destruction of 
 a great elm highly prized by Mr. Curtis led the road builders 
 to go around it. 
 
 As an indication of what the "Black Republicans" weie 
 called on to endure at the time of the Civil War, a portion of a 
 letter written by Mr. Curtis on July 19, 1863, is quoted here: 
 
 "On Tuesday evening, upon an intimation from a man who 
 had heard the plot arranged in the city to come down and visit 
 me that night, and find Horace Greeley and Wendell Phillips 
 'who were concealed in my house*, I took the babies out of bed 
 and departed to an unsuspected neighbor's. On Wednesday a 
 dozen persons informed me and Mr. Shaw that our houses were 
 to be burned, and as there was no police or military force upon 
 the Island, and my only defensive weapon was a large family 
 umbrella, I carried Anna and the two babies to James Sturgis's 
 in Roxbury. * * * We have now organized ourselves in the 
 neighborhood for mutual defense, and I do not fear any serious 
 trouble." 
 
 Robert B. Minturn 
 
 Mr. Minturn, a son-in-law of F. G. Shaw, whose spacious 
 grounds extended from Bard to Davis Avenue, was an erudite 
 Greek scholar. If memory serves correctly, it was he who was 
 instrumental in producing the Acharnians of Aristophanes in 
 the original Greek at the old Academy of Music on 14th St., 
 New York. As one of those present states, none of us knew a 
 thing about Greek or understood a word that was said, but the 
 Academy was crowded with the fashion of New York and it 
 was considered a brilliant success. The Minturns lived in the 
 house which Mr. Shaw had built. 
 
 General Francis C. Barlow 
 
 General Barlow spent a portion of his early days in the 
 Shaw family as tutor for Robert Gould Shaw. When the Civil 
 War came he joined the Northern army and rapidly rose in 
 rank. He was a character who by his own bravery inspired the 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 55 
 
 same feelings in others, and his men were always ready to go 
 where he sent them, knowing he never asked anything that he 
 would not readily do himself. 
 
 After the war he married a sister of Robert Shaw and set- 
 tled down to the practice of the law, but being an ardent Re- 
 publican he became very active in the ranks of that party and 
 during one of the early political campaigns was appointed a 
 "visiting statesman," so-called. These visiting statesmen were 
 sent out to doubtful states immediately after the election to 
 prevent cheating in the counting of ballots. General Barlow 
 was sent to Florida, but returned after a short time and re- 
 ported that there was as much fraud on one side as on the 
 other, and that he would not help his own party under such 
 circumstances. He appears to have been one of the few hon- 
 est men in the outfit. 
 
 The Willcox Family 
 
 There is a little house on the Willowbrook Road just 
 across from the old mill and the Christopher house where, 
 years ago, Albert Oliver Willcox brought his wife and children 
 to live. They had both been born in New York and had lived 
 there all their lives to this point, but they felt that their grow- 
 ing children must have country air and life, and freedom from 
 the conventionalities of the city. The Willowbrook Road was 
 away out in the country in those days, a farming district, and 
 far from any means of conveyance to New York. 
 
 The education of the children, therefore, was a problem, as 
 there were no schools to speak of on Staten Island at that time. 
 The three boys were sent away to boarding school and the 
 daughter was educated at home. 
 
 Mr. Willcox was most absorbed in "causes". He was an 
 ardent admirer of Mr. Garrison and a firm supporter of the 
 Abolitionists. He believed in Woman's Rights and was always 
 an advocate of her political equality. 
 
 The oldest son, J. K. Hamilton, followed in his father's 
 footsteps. He was a peculiar man, although of considerable 
 ability and high principle, but his mind and his physical con- 
 trol did not co-ordinate, and he was so peculiar that he was a 
 source of amusement to those who knew him, and rather a 
 detriment to any cause which he might espouse. 
 
 Albert, the second son, developed a decided talent for busi- 
 
NORTH SHORE 
 
 ness, and when he was old enough and was taken into his 
 father's office his indomitable energy soon put the business on 
 an entirely different footing. David, the youngest son, had a 
 brilliant mind ; was clever and beloved by everybody. He was 
 a lawyer and rose to a position of considerable eminence. 
 
 The daughter, Elizabeth, was a most lovable girl and a self- 
 sacrificing friend to those in need of help. Her home training 
 had brought out this side of her character to a very marked 
 degree. An only daughter, with a semi-invalid mother, three 
 stalwart and exacting brothers, would be trained in this par- 
 ticular. Everyone who knew Miss Willcox realized her charm- 
 ing personality, her quick wit, and her absolute unselfishness. 
 She was well read and a very agreeable companion. As a 
 young woman she was something of a belle, and because she 
 lived in such a remote neighborhood her attractions must have 
 been of no mean order to induce any young man, however 
 ardent, to walk from the boat landing at Port Richmond all 
 the way out to the house at Willowbrook, over a country road, 
 muddy in winter, dusty in summer. There are tales of one 
 suitor, frequent in his calls and persistent in his attentions, who 
 always stayed until too late for the last boat back to New 
 York, and consequently had to be put up for the night. This 
 happened many times until one night the vigorous young Al- 
 bert, who did not care for the young man, again found his hat 
 hanging in the hall, and feeling that this losing of the boat was 
 becoming too much of a fixed habit, seized a cane and, with a 
 
 loud whack on the stair, cried: "What! That here 
 
 again? I'll break every bone in his body." This tactful sug- 
 gestion was not lost on the young man in the parlor. He 
 caught the boat that night, and never came again. 
 
 They tell a story of a neighboring girl breaking through 
 the ice in the little pond across the street, and the Willcox 
 boys hearing the cries, ran out to help her. The girl had 
 slipped under the ice before they got there and the boys, with 
 the help of a neighbor or two, worked far into the night drag- 
 ging the pond for the body of the unfortunate child. 
 
 In later years, and when the boys had attained a certain 
 amount of financial success, they moved down into the stone 
 house between Bard and Davis Avenues. This, however, was 
 only a step toward reaching their final home on Richmond 
 Terrace at the corner of Lafayette Avenue. It was a big house 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 57 
 
 with fine, large, square rooms, exceedingly appropriate to this 
 family of extra tall people. 
 
 Albert belonged to the Boat Club and used to row on the 
 river in his shell, and they had a boathouse on the bank and 
 bathed in the Kills. Miss Willcox kept house for the family 
 and many and delightful were the simple entertainments over 
 which she presided with a charming hospitality. There was 
 no house in which so many pleasant little dinners were given 
 and where both old and young were made to feel so delightfully 
 welcome. David, feeling the urge for civic betterment in the 
 neighborhood, became President of the Village of New 
 Brighton, for this was long before we became one of the 
 boroughs of Greater New York. He had many interesting and 
 amusing experiences, among which was the tale of the man 
 who complained that after he had built his house in a certain 
 place he found that a brook broke through and ran across his 
 cellar, and he wanted redress from the village government. 
 He summed up his complaint by saying: "It's a hell of a 
 place to have a brook." And David, with that readiness for 
 which he was famous, replied: "It's a hell of a place to build 
 a house." David was the intellectual one of the family, was 
 well read and clever, quick at repartee, and of a brilliant mind. 
 He was a welcome guest in the best houses on Staten Island. 
 
 Albert, spurred on by David's example in efforts for civic 
 betterment, organized a Village Improvement Society in New 
 Brighton and became its president. Everybody joined and 
 paid for the improvements which the organization instigated. 
 They sodded the borders of the sidewalk between Jersey Street 
 and St. George and planted honeysuckle along the fences on 
 the shore side of the road. They urged people to clean their 
 empty lots and straighten up the fences, and they hired water- 
 ing carts to water the dusty highways. 
 
 The late Mr. William G. Willcox was the son of William 
 Henry Willcox, the nephew of Albert Oliver Willcox. The 
 Rev. William Henry Willcox married a New England woman, 
 Miss Annie Goodenow, and was for twenty-five years pastor 
 of the Congregational Church in Reading, Mass., where 
 William G. Willcox was born. He was educated in New 
 England. In 1881 he came to New York and went into the 
 office of his cousin Albert. 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
58 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 William G. Willcox 
 
 It is not so much for his business ability that Mr. Will- 
 cox is known and beloved on Staten Island, as for his interest 
 in all the worth-while things of the community and the liberal- 
 ity with which he met the needs of our foremost institutions. 
 His idea, which had been preached by his father, was to leave 
 the place which he occupied in the world a little better for 
 his having lived there, and it was to this end that he devoted 
 his time and money and thought. He was for several years 
 President of the Staten Island Hospital, to which he contrib- 
 uted largely, helping to make it an institution adequate at the 
 time to the demands of our growing community. Also, he was 
 President of the Board of Directors of the Staten Island Acad- 
 emy, because he felt that one of the greatest demands in a 
 neighborhood like that of Staten Island was a good private 
 school where the boys and girls of the community could be 
 properly and adequately fitted for college or for life. To this 
 institution he gave much time and thought and was largely 
 instrumental in effecting the building of the wing which holds 
 the Curtis Lyceum and the Gymnasium. 
 
 When, in 1909, the campaign to raise money for the im- 
 provement of the Staten Island Infirmary came to a successful 
 end, Mr. Willcox was impressed by the fact that this was the 
 first movement on Staten Island which had embraced all the 
 different parts of the Island. It was the first time that all local 
 differences and rivalries were laid aside in the little towns and 
 neighborhoods, and that everybody had worked with harmony 
 and good will for a common cause. It was a condition which 
 was too important to the welfare of the Island to be lost, and 
 Mr. Willcox therefore organized and financed the Staten Island 
 Civic League, with members from all parts of the Island. The 
 Civic League was intended to make the Island a better and 
 more beautiful place to live in, to harmonize the different ele- 
 ments in our community and so make it more homogeneous. 
 
 He was also interested in the Staten Island Institute of Arts 
 and Sciences, and gave liberally toward the erection of the 
 present building, feeling that such an institution was of im- 
 mense practical value to the young people who were growing 
 up in our midst. The philanthropic work which he undertook 
 was as Treasurer of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 59 
 
 to Children, Mr. Curtis being then the Chairman. He held 
 that position until he died, a period of over thirty years. 
 
 Many other Staten Island institutions have cause to remem- 
 ber his friendly interest in anything that made for the welfare 
 of the community. He was President of the Board of Educa- 
 tion of Greater New York under Mayor Mitchel, and won the 
 respect and affection of the teachers of the great city by the 
 wisdom of his decisions and the impartial justice with which he 
 administered his trust. The present form of the Teachers' 
 Pension Bill was largely of his drawing up, and it was ar- 
 ranged on strictly business principles, by which the city of New 
 York will be enabled to meet its obligations so that teachers 
 who have given the best that was in their lives to the children 
 of the city shall not in their old age suffer privation and want. 
 
 He early foresaw the overcrowding of the public schools 
 which has since taken place, and in order to prevent the part- 
 time system which has since been inaugurated he became the 
 advocate of the duplicate school system which had been first 
 used in Gary, Indiana, and by which every facility and accom- 
 modation so generously provided for the children of the greater 
 city could be used all the time, instead of most of them part 
 of the time, as was then the case. If this system had been 
 adopted it would have given the Board of Education and the 
 Board of Estimate time to plan and build new and adequate 
 schoolhouses, and would have prevented the fearful over- 
 crowding which threatens to swamp our public school system. 
 
 In 1907 Mr. Willcox was asked to come on the Board of 
 Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, and on the death 
 of the Hon. Seth Low, he was elected to take his place as 
 Chairman of the Board of Trustees, which place he held until 
 ill health made it necessary for him to resign. This position, 
 perhaps, involved more work and more care than most such 
 positions because, besides the usual responsibilities incident to 
 the work there was the whole question of industrial education 
 for the Negroes versus the purely intellectual education such 
 as the average white child used to get at school, and there was 
 the strenuous factor of the friction between the races, and the 
 race prejudice which everlastingly dogs the footsteps of the 
 Negro and of his friends. 
 
 So thoroughly imbued was Mr. Willcox with the idea that 
 industrial education is the best way in which to fit the average 
 boy or girl of any race for the struggle of life, that he advocated 
 
6o 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 that a fuller and more complete industrial training should be 
 put into our public schools. 
 
 During the World War he gave his time and strength and 
 money unstintingly to patriotic work. He was most active as 
 Chairman of many of the war drives and innumerable com- 
 mittees on Staten Island as well as in New York, putting into 
 them the experience and knowledge which he had acquired in 
 his active business life. 
 
 Wide as were his philanthropic and civic activities, the 
 memory of him which will linger longest among his friends is 
 of the intelligent sympathy and wise counsel which he gave 
 without stint to countless perplexed and disheartened men and 
 women. No worthy person ever approached him that they 
 were not consoled and assisted. So modest was his personality, 
 so widespread and diverse his efforts, that there are few even 
 of his intimate friends who realize the scope of his life. Be- 
 cause of his splendid personality, his clearness of vision, his 
 absolute altruism and fine sense of right and justice, he held a 
 unique position of deep affection and respect with all who 
 knew him. 
 
 The following is a partial list of Mr. Willcox's educational, 
 social, philanthropic and business interests : 
 
 President, Albert Willcox & Co. ; President, Willcox, Peck 
 & Hughes; Vice-President, Meinel & Wemple; Member, Will- 
 cox, Peck, Brown & Crosby; Director, Battery Park Bank & 
 Assurance Co. of America ; Chairman, Board of Trustees, Tus- 
 kegee Normal & Industrial Institute; Down Town Associa- 
 tion; City Club; India House; Staten Island Club; Staten 
 Island Academy ; Staten Island Hospital ; Society for the Pre- 
 vention of Cruelty to Children; Staten Island Civic League; 
 Staten Island Arts and Sciences; Metropolitan Museum Arts 
 and Sciences; Chamber of Commerce of New York; American 
 Museum of Natural History; Merchants' Association of New 
 York; Real Estate Board of New York; Citizens' Union, 
 Academy of Political Science, New York; Botanical Garden; 
 National Economic League; Bowling Green Neighborhood 
 Association ; American Scenic and Historical Preservation So- 
 ciety; Horticultural Society; New York Tax Reform Asso- 
 ciation. } 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 61 
 
 St. Mary's P. E. Church 
 
 As before stated, this church had its small beginning near 
 the shore, on Bard Avenue; this in 1849. In 1853, Mr. Bard 
 gave the site at Davis and Castleton Avenues, and the present 
 building was erected in that year. 
 
 The rector who officiated before the Civil War was an ex- 
 traordinarily popular man, and the church became an assem- 
 bling place for people from all over the Island. The long lines 
 of carriages which awaited the worshipers are recalled as a 
 remarkable sight. The rector who followed and held sway 
 during the war was a strong Southern sympathizer, and was 
 as effective in emptying the church as his predecessor had been 
 in filling it. 
 
 St. Vincent's Hospital 
 
 The first building on this site was erected by one McCurdy. 
 He sold to Charles Taber, one of New York's well known 
 business men, who tore down the McCurdy house and builded 
 a greater. His dwelling is now the main part of St. Vincent's 
 Hospital. Mr. Taber sold to W. T. Garner who was Commo- 
 dore of the New York Yacht Club. Mr. Garner kept his yacht, 
 the Mohawk, anchored off Stapleton Basin, using it largely for 
 excursions about the nearby waters. 
 
 One day, in July, 1876, a party was made up in honor of 
 the lady to whom Mrs. Garner's brother was engaged. After 
 the company had come on board and while the Mohawk was 
 still at anchor lying off Tompkinsville a sudden squall struck 
 the schooner and threw her on her beam ends. The ladies in 
 the cabin were caught under the heavy furniture and before the 
 men who rushed to their rescue could release them the vessel 
 filled and went down, all being drowned. The bodies were re- 
 covered and the shock of the accident and the sight, as they 
 were carried up Bard Avenue, made a deep and lasting impres- 
 sion. 
 
 This building was selected by a committee as the people's 
 gift to General Ulysses S. Grant. This plan was, however, 
 nipped in the bud by the hordes of mosquitoes which were to 
 the days of 1876 what the Tories were to those of 1776 — a 
 scourge and a pest. 
 
 On a gloriously bright day in June, the grand old man was 
 brought down to inspect the place. The day was ideal and he 
 
62 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 expressed himself as delighted with the magnificent property 
 and beautiful surroundings, and all that was needed was the 
 approbation of Mrs. Grant. But the time selected for her visit 
 proved to be just the reverse. The day was close, hot and 
 muggy, and the mosquitoes swarmed in their millions. 
 
 It was not possible to postpone the visit. So a pair of fast 
 horses whirled the lady across country, and she was actually 
 in the house before the pests made an impression. Mrs. Grant 
 was as pleased with the house as had been the General, and in 
 due time suggested an inspection of the grounds. Then came 
 all manner of excuses : she "was too tired for further exercise 
 on such a warm day ; inspection of the grounds and neighbor- 
 ing estates would take an entire day and had best be left for 
 another visit", etc., etc., etc. But she was one who believed in 
 doing it now, and the resulting trip through the mosquito 
 infested shrubbery quenched all desire on her part for a home 
 on Staten Island. 
 
 The building is now a prominent Catholic hospital, St. 
 Vincent's, the second hospital in importance on Staten Island. 
 
 Commodore DeKay 
 
 The family of Commodore DeKay whose home was at the 
 southwest corner of Bard and Forest Avenues was an inter- 
 esting one. Just how its head received his title we may never 
 know, but the following story which came from Dr. Frank 
 Ridgway, a one-time Staten Islander who was in the Civil 
 War, may be of assistance. A sailor man might find it difficult 
 to swallow this yarn, but it should do well enough for the rest 
 of us. Mr. Sanderson Smith, first president of the National 
 Science Association of Staten Island, occupied this brick house 
 at a later date. 
 
 DeKay was first mate on a brig that traded along the South 
 American coast and while in the port of Rio de Janeiro the 
 Captain died and the command devolved on the mate who had 
 so much trouble with the grafting authorities before he could 
 get his vessel away that he vowed vengeance on Brazil. Some 
 years later when the Argentine was in trouble with Brazil, 
 DeKay immediately went down and offered his services, which 
 were gladly accepted, and he was put in charge of the navy, 
 consisting of one vessel. In this he started out to hunt trou- 
 ble, and the navy of Brazil, which consisted of two vessels, pro- 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 63 
 
 ceeded to meet him half way. The latter manoeuvred to get on 
 either side of the enemy, which DeKay readily allowed them to 
 do, and when in position he in some manner, not explained, 
 created such a smoke, as to entirely hide his ship. This smoke 
 settled on the water in such great volume that he was able to 
 slip out unobserved, while the two vessels of the Brazilian 
 navy, shooting at the unseen in the smoke, shot through the 
 smoke and hit only each other, being compelled to retire in dis- 
 comfiture. DeKay returned in triumph and was promptly 
 made commodore of the Argentine Navy. The story sounds 
 more as though it had been lifted bodily from the pages of Cap- 
 tain Marryat than as if it were a chapter from real life, but they 
 do say that truth is stranger than fiction. 
 
 Miss Morgan 
 
 One of those who gave local color to the region fifty years 
 ago was a Miss Morgan, a cattle reporter on the New York 
 Times. The lady wore abbreviated skirts that were then con- 
 sidered highly improper, with a strong accent on the high, also 
 men's shoes. Her house was her castle. There was no front 
 door, but an opening that was boarded up at sunset, and the 
 only way to reach the second floor was by means of a ladder, 
 which was drawn up at night. 
 
 The decorative scheme of this house was unique. One of 
 the rooms had a frieze of highly polished pigs' feet, and others, 
 it is said, carried decorations of an equally unusual character. 
 Miss Morgan was an accomplished woman, with a charming 
 taste for literature, and with a memory that enabled her to re- 
 peat the most beautiful of our English verse by the hour. To 
 her circle of intimates she was vastly more than an odd char- 
 acter who wore short skirts and men's shoes. Miss Morgan's 
 fathei was Master of Horse to Victor Emmanuel of Italy. 
 
 The Gays 
 
 In the year 1848, Dr. Elliott completed a little gabled and 
 battened cottage designed by Ranleigh, on what was then 
 called Hayley's Lane. This was a strip of land which had lain 
 on either side of the division fence of two old Dutch farms. 
 Big cherry trees, dogwood, catbrier and blackberry bushes had 
 grown up along the fence and were left in the middle of the 
 lane between the cart tracks which wound along on each side. 
 
6 4 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 The grass grew thick and rich in this favored spot, a chosen 
 pasturage for the cows of our neighbors from "Little Dublin" 
 at the head of this street, known on the maps as Davis Avenue. 
 
 Into this house moved the Sidney Howard Gays, young and 
 only two years married. 
 
 Mr. Gay was the editor of the "Anti-Slavery Standard," the 
 organ of the New York Abolitionists. He was of New Eng- 
 land birth and his anti-slavery sentiments were the result of 
 conscientious conviction. 
 
 Mrs. Gay was a Philadelphia Quaker. Her people had been 
 Abolitionists for two generations, and had suffered the hard- 
 ships and insults common to the life of the Abolitionists of the 
 time. 
 
 It was on coming into Philadelphia from one of his Anti- 
 Slavery lecturing tours in western Pennsylvania and Ohio, 
 made on horseback from town to town, often at the risk of his 
 life from mob violence, that Mr. Gay walked up the steps of a 
 house on Arch Street to whose hospitality letters of introduc- 
 tion recommended him. The door was opened by the young 
 lady of the house and his fate was sealed. 
 
 The calling of a lecturer on an unpopular subject did not 
 seem to offer a very desirable or substantial outlook for the 
 future to Daniel Neall, the father of the pretty, blonde Quak- 
 eress. But when Mr. Gay was offered the position of editor of 
 the "Anti-Slavery Standard", all objections were removed, 
 though it must have been trying to the father to have his 
 daughter marry out of the Society. It was the custom then of 
 the Society of Friends to drop from their meeting any mem- 
 ber who married out of the faith, but Elizabeth Neall, with that 
 decision and firmness which characterized her throughout life, 
 resigned from the meeting before they had time to drop her. 
 
 A child was born to the young couple a few months after 
 their settling on Staten Island, and died eighteen months after- 
 wards, a grief which left an impress on both father and mother 
 which time never obliterated. 
 
 The Gays worked together for the Cause, as the "elect" al- 
 ways called it, Mrs. Gay backing her husband's every effort for 
 the emancipation of the slave. 
 
 Gradually there grew a little clique of people in the neigh- 
 borhood on Staten Island, mostly of New England birth, main- 
 ly of the Unitarian faith, and Republicans and believers in the 
 right of the negro to be free. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 65 
 
 This was not so in the neighborhood nearer New Brighton. 
 Many of these people were "Copperheads", and consequently 
 Pro-Slavery Democrats. They had no respect for the princi- 
 ples nor for the politics of the people who did not agree with 
 them, and rarely lost an opportunity of showing it. One day 
 Mrs. Gay was on the boat with her friend, Mrs. Robert Purvis 
 of Philadelphia. Mrs. Purvis' father was a well-to-do and re- 
 spected merchant of Philadelphia, a colored man and a gentle- 
 man; for even in those days the combination was not by any 
 means impossible. 
 
 At the forward end of the boat there stood this morning a 
 group of New Brighton's most distinguished citizens, those 
 men who owned and lived in those impressive Grecian struc- 
 tures, of which the wrecks still line the Terrace, a sad me- 
 mento of their days of splendor long since departed. 
 
 These men were evidently discussing the two ladies, for 
 finally one of them, and one who counted himself a gentleman 
 par excellence, detached himself from the group and walked 
 past the ladies. He turned sharply and, returning, stooped so 
 that he could peer under Mrs. Purvis' bonnet, one of the 
 "sugar-scoop" variety worn at the time. Then, straightening 
 himself and walking on a step or two, he called out to his wait- 
 ing companions : "By God ! She is a nigger." 
 
 This, of course, must be imputed to the bitterness which the 
 Anti-Slavery struggle brought into American life. But it must 
 be remembered that this man knew Mrs. Gay perfectly well 
 and knew that she knew him. 
 
 How those Abolitionists did work ! Propaganda at all times 
 was in order, lectures, and meetings continually, and once a 
 year a great Anti-Slavery Fair. For these fairs the women 
 worked all the year, endeavoring by their skill and taste to 
 make such attractive things that not only would the "elect" 
 be tempted to buy, but that outsiders would come to purchase 
 things which in those days could be procured nowhere else. 
 There were many friends of the cause in England, and every 
 year these people sent large boxes of English-made goods, 
 which were not ordinarily on the counters of our shops, and 
 they too sent exquisite dainty bits of fancywork after patterns 
 new to our women. 
 
 It was a rare time for friendships of the real, lasting, worth- 
 while kind. The Gays kept open house for any friend of the 
 cause, and a continual stream of .visitors occupied the little 
 
66 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 spare room. Whittier, Lowell, Garrison, Quincy, Phillips, Pur- 
 vis, Lucretia Mott, Sarah Pugh, Mary Grew, the Grimki sisters, 
 and a host of lesser lights were continually coming and going, 
 working with the young editor and with "Mrs. Editor", as she 
 was affectionately styled. 
 
 Sometimes the house was a station on the underground 
 railroad. A Southern lady traveling north, imprudently 
 brought with her a little slave girl. No sooner was this real- 
 ized by the officers of the underground railroad than the child 
 disappeared from the hotel. She was brought to Staten Island 
 and deposited at the Gays. No Topsy could have been wilder 
 or more untamed ; with no idea of manners or truth ; as un- 
 broken as a colt, and as untrained in all the particulars of civi- 
 lization. It was a strain on the principles of the good hostess, 
 and a real test for her belief in the brotherhood of man, but 
 her own children were being exposed to an influence never be- 
 fore felt in their very young lives, and Topsy was moved on to 
 a "station" where her associates were of a less tender age. 
 
 One day Mrs. Gay stopped in at the Anti-Slavery office, on 
 her way home from a day's shopping in New York. Mr. Gay 
 was alone in his office and, taking his pipe from his lips, 
 pointed, in a way he had, with the stem at a long, deal table 
 against the wall. This table was covered by a green felt 
 tablecloth which reached to the floor. "Look under it," he said. 
 Mrs. Gay lifted a corner of the cloth and there, crouching on the 
 floor, were three people : a negro girl and two young negro men. 
 Nearly forty years afterward there ensconsed herself in the 
 kitchen of Mrs. Gay's youngest daughter, a nice, elderly col- 
 ored cook. The young mistress, following the example of her 
 mother, began to interest herself in the past of the woman. 
 "Yes," she said, "I was born a slave, but when we hearn dat 
 de master was a-gwine to sell my brudder an' me an' my young 
 man to pay his son's debts wid, we jes' tuck out an' lef\ We 
 traveled by de moonlight and hid in de daytimes, an' by-an'-by 
 we gits into de han's ob de good folks. Dey moved us on till 
 finally one day we was took to dere office an' we spent de day 
 hidden under a long table, all three of us." 
 
 "Had it a green cloth over it?" the eager listener asked. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am ; it had," was the reply. 
 
 The Civil War brought to the Gays no family grief. The 
 only boy was a little chap, and Mr. Gay was doing too valuable 
 a work to make enlisting possible. By this time he was man- 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 6? 
 
 aging editor of the New York "Tribune," a responsible posi- 
 tion, because the "Tribune" was looked up to all over the 
 country as the mouthpiece of earthly wisdom, and what the 
 "Tribune" said and thought was the opinion of a large pro- 
 portion of our citizens in the country districts and in what was 
 then the West. Horace Greeley was the editor-in-chief of the 
 "Tribune" and the largest stockholder of the paper, and what 
 he said was swallowed as gospel by an immense crowd of fol- 
 lowers. But Mr. Greeley was erratic, even at that time, and it 
 was Mr. Gay's chief duty to keep the editorials in the "Trib- 
 une" so strictly loyal and so firmly in support of the Govern- 
 ment that there could be no mistake in its attitude on the part 
 of its readers. So keenly was this felt, that President Lincoln 
 sent for Mr. Gay to come to Washington, that there might be 
 a distinct understanding as to the position of the paper. 
 
 Mrs. Gay used to say that if she went up on the boat on a 
 morning when the editorial was written by Mr. Greeley, she 
 dared not look her neighbors in the face; but if one of Mr. 
 Gay's articles filled the columns, she was afraid of nobody. 
 
 All during the war the neighbors used to meet and scrape 
 lint and roll bandages for the hospitals at the front, under the 
 direction of the Sanitary Commission, and in the writer's mind 
 there is a dim recollection of work — strenuous work, for a fair 
 for the Sanitary Commission, and later one for the Freedman's 
 Bureau. 
 
 From 1869 to 1872, the Gays lived in Chicago, Mr. Gay be- 
 ing the editor of the Chicago "Tribune". Then came the big 
 fire, and the "Tribune" was burned out, and could no longer 
 afford a managing editor. During that winter both Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gay gave themselves up completely to relief work among 
 the fire sufferers. To them were sent by friends from the East 
 mo-e than sixty packing cases of new and used clothing, to be 
 distributed among the refugees, and so effectually was this 
 done that the family themselves were frequently reduced to the 
 last garment in their wardrobe ! Mr. Gay worked as a volun- 
 teer on the Chicago Relief Commission, and wrote a most in- 
 teresting and comprehensive report of the winter's work. Mrs. 
 Gay was treasurer of a similar, but more private, association 
 which dealt with people who had been comfortable and who 
 were too proud to stand in line for relief. 
 
 The spring of 1872 saw the family back in the beloved house 
 on Davis Avenue, every tree and blade of grass on the place 
 
68 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 being dear to them. The neighborhood had changed some- 
 what. The old lane had become a thing of the past before 
 they went away, but now it was a street, curbed and guttered, 
 but still a sea of mud in winter. Stone sidewalks were laid on 
 both sides, and many new houses had been put up. 
 
 Many of the old neighbors had moved away, but enough 
 were left to carry on the old, intimate relations. 
 
 The old duties were gone, but new ones took their places, 
 and whenever work was to be done Mrs. Gay was there. A 
 sudden emergency of sickness or death in the neighborhood, 
 and Mrs. Gay would be called upon. Her response was always 
 ready, and she can be seen in the mind's eye, running down the 
 curving stairs of the house, tying her bonnet strings as she ran, 
 and calling back her last household directions to her daughters. 
 
 She was vice-chairman of the Committee on "Able-Bodied 
 Paupers", which was Mrs. Josephine Shaw Lowell's first local 
 attempt to deal with those mendicants who were reaping a 
 harvest at the hands of a deceived people. She was a member 
 of the first Board of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty 
 to Children, and her name stood on the list till the feebleness 
 of old age rendered her unfit for any work. 
 
 In 1876, there was organized in New York by Mr. Aaron 
 M. Powell, Mrs. Abby Hopper Gibbons, and others, a society 
 known as the National Purity Alliance, and of this Mrs. Gay 
 was treasurer. She held this office till she could no longer sign 
 the checks, and her resignation was accepted. 
 
 Mr. Gay, on his return from Chicago, accepted the editor- 
 ship of the New York "Evening Post," which position he held 
 for several years, resigning to undertake, in conjunction with 
 William Cullen Bryant, the writing of a Popular History of 
 the United States. This work was, perhaps, the first to begin 
 its account with the prehistoric age of America, and so great 
 was the interest of the family in shell heaps that its members 
 went hunting them with Louis Gratacap in the South Beach 
 region. 
 
 The same hospitality obtained in the house, both for young 
 and old. The "spare room" was often occupied by old friends 
 and by many new ones from Chicago. Sunday afternoons, the 
 parlor was always full as of old : Mr. Curtis and Mr. Minturn, 
 the Templeton-Johnson family, the de Kays, the Kissels, and 
 the strangers within the gates, filling the center round the open 
 fire, while the lesser lights hovered in the background. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 69 
 
 It was not deemed necessary in those days to fill up one's 
 guests with weak tea; only the flow of soul and wit was 
 considered essential to make such afternoons truly happy and 
 pleasant. 
 
 By this time there had grown up the older daughter of the 
 house, Sarah Mifflin Gay, a delicate girl, but full of wit and 
 humor and intelligence, the true daughter of her intellectual 
 parents. 
 
 Deprived by ill health from exercising her very considerable 
 artistic talent, she was obliged to lead rather a secluded and 
 quiet life, but such was her keen intelligence and her ready 
 sympathy for all worth-while things that she was admired and 
 loved by all who came in contact with her. 
 
 At this time we had no postal service on Staten Island, and 
 everybody had to send to the post office for their mail. The 
 West New Brighton office was kept in Mr. Burgess' drugstore, 
 on Richmond Terrace, opposite Mr. Pine's new store, and every 
 winter afternoon Mr. Curtis would stop for Mr. Gay about 4 
 o'clock and, accompanied by Poozle, the Gays' pet dog, the two 
 gentlemen would take their constitutional, stopping at the post 
 office on their way. Many old residents of the town can re- 
 member tall Mr. Curtis, short Mr. Gay, and the little grey dog, 
 taking their brisk walk, the men settling the affairs of the na- 
 tion as they went. Mr. Curtis' extreme geniality and his ever- 
 ready kindness made him a universal favorite, and the progress 
 of their arguments was often interrupted by his friends and 
 well-wishers who were met on the road. 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
 A Child's Recollection of the Draft Riots 
 
 Having recently reread in McClure's Magazine for October, 
 1895, Mr. Gilmore's story of the Tribune in the Draft Riots, it 
 has occurred to me, as fifty years have just passed since 1863, 
 that my own recollections may be interesting as an indication 
 of what many women and children went through at that time. 
 
 Although I was a little child, my memory of the two or 
 three days and nights of that riot week is very clear and begins 
 one evening, probably Tuesday, the second day of the rioting, 
 with my mother taking me out of bed and explaining, as she 
 helped me dress, that we were going to Mr. Ward's house to 
 spend the night. Mr. Ward's house was next to ours on the 
 
70 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 North Shore of Staten Island, about a quarter of a mile back 
 from the water in a quiet neighborhood of gentlemen's country 
 places. 
 
 It was an admirable situation for bringing up children, but 
 the houses were far apart and it was lonesome for a woman 
 whose husband's duties as a managing editor of a morning 
 newspaper allowed him to spend but one night a week with 
 his family. 
 
 As Mr. Gilmore has told in his McClure's article, my father, 
 Sydney Howard Gay, was in the Tribune office expecting to be 
 roasted alive if the rioters succeeded in firing the building, and 
 my mother was alone with two children. My youngest sister 
 was a babe in arms, and fortunately, the oldest child, who was 
 old enough to have understood the situation, was visiting our 
 relations in Philadelphia and was spared the terror which a 
 clever girl of apprehensive mind would have experienced. 
 
 After I had been put to bed that evening the servants 
 begged to be allowed to bring their bedding downstairs and 
 sleep on the floor, as they were afraid they would not be able 
 to escape from the third story if the house was set on fire, and 
 my mother was sitting up waiting for what might happen when 
 she heard footsteps on the lawn and then on the piazza. 
 
 I imagine she demanded whose steps they were before our 
 neighbor, Mr. George Cabot Ward, who had come through the 
 gate in the fence which separated our places, announced 
 himself. 
 
 He had come over to advise that we all go to his house for 
 the night, as the mob was thick on the Shore Road and threats 
 had been made to come up our street and burn out all the Black 
 Republicans. 
 
 There were a number of the latter in our neighborhood, 
 among them Mr. F. G. Shaw, his son-in-law, Mr. George Wil- 
 liam Curtis, Mr. Ward and my father, who through their 
 loyalty to the Union or their sympathy for the slaves, had be- 
 come marked men, and in the opinion of the rioters the time 
 had come when their houses should be sacked and burned, and 
 their families driven out. 
 
 We were put to bed again at Mr. Ward's and slept, at least 
 the children slept peacefully till morning. My mother must 
 have been very cool and all the older people very careful in 
 their talk, for I do not remember being frightened or of hearing 
 anything disturbing, except as we were going across the lawn 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 7i 
 
 from our house to Mr. Ward's that evening, I heard one of the 
 servants say to the other in low, scared voice: "It's maybe 
 under the trees they are, now, watching us." But being an 
 unimaginative little boy, that did not convey any fear to my 
 mind. 
 
 Looking back from this distance of time, it seems strange 
 that our servants and others in the neighborhood, both men 
 and women, should have been so terrified, for they should not 
 have expected harm to themselves from their own people and 
 that they fully understood that their own friends were on top 
 and had our lives and property at their disposal, they showed 
 in many ways, even, as my mother said, by the swing of their 
 petticoats, but perhaps because they knew their friends better 
 than we did, they were frightened almost into helplessness. 
 
 The next night Mr. Ward came again and took us across 
 under the trees to his house, but we were not put to bed, for 
 the scouts who were constantly going out and coming back 
 again, reported the mob gathering in greater numbers and in 
 uglier mood on the Shore Road at the foot of our street, and 
 we could hear the steady tramp of many feet on the plank walk. 
 
 The Shore Ro^d ran from village to village as it does now, 
 following the windings of the Kills, and had a plank footwalk 
 from New Brighton to Factoryville and beyond, which being 
 raised slightly above the ground gave a clear sounding note 
 under the footfall at all times, and that night it gave out a 
 steady, continuous sound, almost a roar, unbroken for several 
 hours. I do not remember hearing any noises that still night 
 except that continuous tramp of many feet, and it may be that 
 the voices of the mob and all other sounds were drowned in 
 that roar of tramping. 
 
 On the strength of these reports it was decided by the older 
 people that if the mob started up the street we should go out 
 the back gate and make a run for it across the fields to the 
 home of Mr. Daniel G. Bacon, who was a Democrat, and not 
 likely to be disturbed by the rioters. 
 
 The Bacon family lived at that time in the Bement house 
 at the corner of Bement Avenue and the Shore Road. Another 
 reason for choosing that house for a refuge was that Mr. Bacon 
 was known as a man who would and could fight. Most of the 
 gentlemen of our neighborhood were not fighting men and 
 were not even accustomed to the use of arms in the way of 
 sport. The young men were in the army, and the few left at 
 
72 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 home were elderly men of peaceful habits who would have had 
 little effect if they had undertaken to defend a large district 
 against overwhelming numbers. So, in our situation at that 
 moment, there was no course open to us, women, children and 
 old unarmed men, but flight. 
 
 As the reports grew worse and the mob was said to be only 
 waiting for a leader to start it up the street, we gathered in the 
 kitchen, which was at the end of the house nearest the back 
 gate, ready to make our run the moment the word came that 
 the mob had started. 
 
 That July night of '63 was hot, close and threatening rain, 
 and the fire which had cooked the dinner had not yet gone out 
 in the range, and we women and children were packed close 
 in the hot, dark kitchen, waiting for the order to run. With 
 great presence of mind Mrs. Ward had taken time to gather up 
 her jewels and hide them in the bosom of her dress, but she 
 had also added to her discomfort by wearing her two camel's- 
 hair shawls over her shoulders, and stood waiting in the swel- 
 tering heat with the rest of us. My mother stood with her 
 baby in her arms till, as she said afterward, she thought she 
 could not stand another moment, and then the rain came down, 
 gently at first and then harder and harder, and then presently 
 a scout, wet through, came in and said the mob was dispersing. 
 This report was confirmed by other wet persons, and we went 
 into the cool parlor and sat down. 
 
 I don't think anyone went to bed that night, not knowing 
 but the mob might gather again and carry out its threats. Our 
 family did not, I am sure, except perhaps the baby, and I re- 
 member very distinctly sitting on the parlor sofa with Mrs. 
 Ward's little daughter, discussing our relatives, till after a 
 long time daylight came. 
 
 It was said afterward that John Gannon, who kept a saloon 
 at the foot of our street where the mob gathered, told the 
 rioters that our houses were guarded by soldiers and that we 
 were prepared for them. The story might easily have been 
 true and would account for no leader being ready to head the 
 attack and it may have been that, as well as the rain, which 
 dampened their ardor for pillage and murder. 
 
 If it is true that Gannon frightened off the mob with his 
 story of troops, it was a kindly, neighborly act for which I 
 fear he never got full credit. 
 
 The third night my mother refused to leave her house and 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 73 
 
 I slept soundly in my own bed, but I imagine she sat up and 
 heard every noise of the night, through the long hours. 
 
 The next morning mother went to the village to see Mr. 
 Pine. Mr. Pine kept the general store and could furnish any- 
 thing that anybody wanted. He paid our insurance and the 
 amount appeared among the groceries in the next bill. If any 
 one wanted a kitten or a wet nurse, Mr. Pine was appealed to. 
 So mother went to Mr. Pine and asked for an armed man to 
 guard her house, and a man with a revolver appeared that after- 
 noon. He was a pleasant, middle-aged man who had been in 
 the army, and the little I remember of him is that he helped 
 us pick gooseberries one afternoon and sat on the piazza with 
 his revolver for several nights. 
 
 My mother was born a Quaker, and was therefore a non- 
 resistant by training and conviction, and averse to the shed- 
 ding of blood under any circumstances, and that she would 
 have been willing to resort to carnal weapons for the protec- 
 tion of her home, shows how she was moved and how little 
 faith she had that any argument but force could prevail with 
 the savages who were taking advantage of our time of 
 weakness. 
 
 She resented bitterly the ingratitude of the people who had 
 come to our shores and accepted our hospitality, who had been 
 nursed when they were sick and fed, clothed and warmed by 
 us, but who at the first opportunity had turned against us; 
 who had not only turned against us in political disloyalty, but 
 had made war on us at night by pillage and arson and murder. 
 
 Our helplessness was a mortification to her and she ex- 
 pressed her opinion freely that the gentlemen of the neighbor- 
 hood who had brains and money should not have allowed 
 themselves to be stampeded by a mob without making some 
 attempt at defense. 
 
 She found some relief to her feelings, however, later in the 
 summer when Mr. G. W. Smalley, then a war correspondent of 
 the Tribune and home on a furlough, was invited to spend a 
 Sunday at our house. She asked him to bring his revolver with 
 him, which he taught her to load and fire, and she blazed away 
 at a tree and got consolation from the noise and the bullet 
 holes in the target. 
 
 The only organized attempt at defense which we heard of 
 on Staten Island was at Port Richmond, then a small village 
 almost exclusively American. 
 
74 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 The neighbors planted a small cannon at the bridge where 
 the Shore Road crosses Bodine's Creek and let it be known that 
 no rioters would be allowed in that village, and no attempt by 
 them to get in was reported. 
 
 There were several instances of preparedness, which we 
 heard of afterward with satisfaction, among them a Border 
 State family, near us, with several young men whose protesta- 
 tions of devotion to the Union had not, however, taken them 
 into the army, who armed themselves in their easily-defended 
 stone house and defied attack. And of Mr. Templeton John- 
 son, who had got possession of some revolvers which he taught 
 his wife and sister-in-law to load. He proposed, if attacked, to 
 stand out on his front piazza and shoot, handing the empty 
 weapons in at the window for the women to reload. And that 
 they would have reloaded, and fought if necessary, no one who 
 knew Mrs. Johnson's ready and unfailing courage could have 
 any doubt. 
 
 My father, who was shut up in the Tribune office with the 
 responsibility of that concern on his shoulders, Mr. Greeley 
 having been got out of town by his friends, could not get down 
 to Staten Island to his family, and when our dear old friend, 
 Mr. Haydock, as soon as it was safe to be in the streets, ap- 
 peared at the office to see if he could do anything, my father 
 asked him to go to Staten Island and find what situation we 
 were in. 
 
 There was only one thing my mother wanted done, except 
 perhaps to have her husband assured of our safety, and when 
 Paradis, the old French sailor who took care of the garden and 
 did the chores about the place, had gone to his dinner, she and 
 Mr. Haydock buried the silver in a flower bed. There it 
 stayed till one morning several weeks afterward my mother 
 told Paradis to get his spade, and started him digging. He 
 presently unearthed the package, and the old fellow's silver 
 earrings danced, his little sunken eyes bulged and he swore 
 strange French oaths when he found it was not gardening but 
 treasure seeking, he was engaged in. 
 
 To the colored people of Staten Island those were days and 
 nights of peril and to many of them tragedy. Some of them 
 escaped across the Kills to New Jersey, some abandoned their 
 homes and hid in the woods, and others were beaten or killed. 
 A confectioner's store in New Brighton kept by a respectable 
 colored man was attacked and gutted. An old woman who 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 75 
 
 sold peanuts and apples at Pier 19, where our ferryboat landed, 
 was murdered. As an eyewitness said : "She was kicked like 
 a football from one end of the pier to the other." 
 
 There were many acts of bravery performed and many 
 stories told of kindness and humanity, as for instance of Mrs. 
 Louis T. Hoyt, who discovered a colony of colored refugees 
 hiding in the woods at the back of her place, without shelter 
 or food. She took the women and children into the barn and, 
 fearing to trust her servants, fed and tended them with her own 
 hands till they could safely go home. And of Mr. Thorpe who, 
 driving to the boat one morning, met a colored man pursued 
 by a mob. The man was at his last gasp, and begged for help. 
 Mr. Thorpe seized the reins, pitched the coachman, whom he 
 dared not trust, into the road, pulled the exhausted man into 
 the wagon and drove him to safety. 
 
 I think I have read that the worst of the rioting in New 
 York was over at the end of the third day when the splendid 
 work of the police and the return of the militia who had been 
 sent to check Lee's advance in the Gettysburg campaign and 
 the arrival of some regulars had had its effect, and after that 
 there were only some desultory conflicts with bands of ma- 
 rauders bent on pillage and destruction. At all events it was 
 over by Wednesday night on Staten Island, so far as my 
 knowledge went. 
 
 The value of property destroyed in New York and vicinity 
 must have been large, and many innocent people, white and 
 colored, lost their lives. 
 
 The police records showed that at least fifteen hundred 
 rioters were killed, but how many killed and wounded were 
 not reported will never be known. 
 
 It was said that many wounded men were treated at drug 
 stores or at their homes, who, their friends said, had been in- 
 jured in the battle of Gettysburg, but who without doubt had 
 been shot by the troops or clubbed by the police. 
 
 On Staten Island there was a very considerable destruction 
 of property for which the county was eventually obliged to pay. 
 
 The last recollection I have of that time is of being taken 
 to town by my mother a short time after the rioting was over, 
 and of being stopped at an entrance to City Hall Park, which 
 we proposed to cross and which was then surrounded by a 
 high iron fence, by a soldier coming to the position of "charge 
 bayonets" with the point of his weapon almost touching my 
 
76 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 mother's breast. It seems absurd in these peaceful days to 
 think of a soldier presenting his bayonet at a woman, leading 
 a little child by the hand, in City Hall Park, but so he did, and 
 we were obliged to go around by Park Row to get to the 
 Tribune office to see my father. 
 
 When we got there a kind gentleman took me over the 
 building and showed me the munitions of war which Mr. 
 Gilmore had procured and brought from Governor's Island 
 and the Navy Yard, and which Colonel Adams in organizing 
 the office for defense had skillfully disposed ready for use. 
 There were loaded muskets standing ready to hand; there 
 were long wooden troughs ready to be pushed out of the win- 
 dows, down which huge bomb shells would roll and drop 
 among the rioters ; and hand grenades which could be thrown 
 into the crowd. 
 
 They were deadly weapons fitted for the use of skilled or 
 unskilled hands, and some people, usually of kindly temper 
 and peaceful habits, thought it was almost a pity the occasion 
 for using them had passed before they were available. 
 
 Martin Gay. 
 
 The Riots of '63 on Staten Island 
 
 The riots of '63 began in New York on a Monday night. 
 History calls them the Draft Riots, and states that it was to 
 show the opposition to the recently ordered "draft" to replenish 
 the Union Army, that the mob rose. Other authorities say it 
 was an attempt organized in the South to demoralize the North 
 in its largest cities. The riot opened in New York. The Mayor 
 of Boston was there that night, took an early train for home, 
 and made such preparations in Boston that no rioters dared 
 show themselves ; and the failure of the scheme in New York 
 discouraged any attempt elsewhere. 
 
 The animosity of the mob was directed especially against 
 the negro, and against anyone who had befriended that race. 
 Well-known Abolitionists fled for their lives before the mob. 
 Their houses were gutted and destroyed, and their household 
 effects distributed as loot. Colored men were chased through 
 the streets and beaten to death or hung on the nearest lamp 
 post. The colored orphan asylum was burned to the ground, 
 and the children with difficulty rescued. 
 
 The offices of the New York "Tribune" were attacked, be- 
 cause of its anti-slavery stand and the fact that Horace Greeley 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 77 
 
 was an Abolitionist. Mr. Gay, of Staten Island, was behind 
 barricades, and the staff were armed for the fight, but, for- 
 tunately, word of this preparation for defense got abroad, and 
 the rioters turned to other and more defenseless prey. 
 
 There was a nice, respectable old colored "apple woman" 
 who perched on the stringpiece of the dock at the foot of Dey 
 Street, where the Staten Island boats landed then. (She was 
 not the womn who polished her apples with a hairbrush.) A 
 crowd of the rioters, looking for colored people on whom they 
 might avenge themselves for being called upon to serve their 
 adopted country, found the poor, defenseless old soul, and 
 kicked and rolled and pounded her up and down the length of 
 the dock till what was left was unrecognizable and, mercifully, 
 dead. Nobody interfered. There were no police, and the mob 
 was mr.ny. 
 
 Those passengers who saw this outrage were fully prepared 
 for further acts of violence on Staten Island. There was a col- 
 ored woman in Stapleton who kept a tin shop, and lived over 
 it with her two little babies ; the husband was a West Indian, 
 and away on a voyage. The mob came and gutted the little 
 shop, destroying the contents, and that mother sat upstairs, 
 listening to the sounds of destruction. She sat close to the 
 door, armed with a sharp carving knife, resolved to protect her 
 sleeping babies if the rioters should come up. Happily, they 
 hurried away to further depredations. 
 
 Perhaps it was this same mob who chased a negro up the 
 turnpike just as Mr. Charles G. Thorpe, who was spending the 
 summer on Grymes Hill, drove down to the boat. He heard 
 a clamor and saw a colored man at the roadside, exhausted, 
 panting, looking at him with imploring eyes. Quick as 
 thought, Mr. Thorpe seized the reins, tumbled his coachman 
 off the box, motioned the negro to jump in, turned, and drove 
 off in the opposite direction. 
 
 It was Mrs. Louis Hoyt, who lived in the big place at the 
 southeast corner of Bard and Castleton Avenues, who hid a 
 dozen or so of colored people in her hay loft. She took food 
 out to them herself, at night, because she did not dare to trust 
 her servants to do it. 
 
 Green, an ex-butler of the F. G. Shaws, was our first caterer. 
 He had a nice little shop in New Brighton, where ice-cream 
 and fancy cakes could be ordered for parties and dinners. The 
 
78 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 mob went into this colored man's shop, and did not leave two 
 sticks of it together. 
 
 Most of the colored people of the North Shore took to the 
 woods for those awful days and nights; there were woods on 
 Staten Island, then, and deep ones, fortunately. The white 
 citizens of Port Richmond were resolved to have no such 
 doings in their town. Somewhere they procured a small can- 
 non and planted it at the entrance to the bridge over Bodine's 
 Creek, and mounted guard there day and night. There was 
 no trouble west of that bridge and no colored people were 
 molested. 
 
 The little colony of Abolitionists who lived in the neigh- 
 borhood of Sailors Snug Harbor were in imminent danger. 
 Many threats of violence were reported to them, and many 
 families left their own homes at night and sought safety with 
 neighbors who had arms, or who were not so obnoxious to the 
 mobocrats. There was a house commonly known as the "Pink 
 Jail" — "pink" on account of its color; "jail" because, it being 
 one of Dr. Elliott's productions, had but few windows, he be- 
 lieving that windows let in east wind and illness. There were 
 no "germs" in those days ! 
 
 At that time the Lovegroves lived in the "Pink Jail", a 
 father and several sons, and they had firearms and offered 
 asylum to anybody who sought it. And they were prepared 
 to fight, too, if the mob attacked them. 
 
 Another Mr. Hoyt, over on Elm Court, also had made 
 preparations and offered shelter. A veritable garden spot was 
 Elm Court in those days, filled with branching elms and lawns 
 and lovely gardens. It was a lane leading up to the Hoyts' 
 gate, with only two other houses on it, and no sidewalks, but 
 broad stretches of close clipped grass on either side of the nar- 
 row roadway. To Mr. Hoyt's house many of the neighbors 
 went, or made ready to go should necessity demand it. 
 
 Mr. Lovegrove of the "Pink Jail" was a jolly soul, an ardent 
 Republican and admirer of Abraham Lincoln. Sometimes his 
 conviviality got the better of his discretion, but it only made 
 him more jolly and more loyal. One day he announced that 
 he had thought out a new slogan — "Lincoln and Liberty; 
 Jackson and Justice; Lovegrove and Liquor!" 
 
 After a night of sleeplessness and anxiety, Mr. Curtis took 
 Mrs. Curtis and the two little children on to Boston, whose 
 Mayor showed such promptness and courage. Mr. Shaw 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 79 
 
 armed his gardener, his coachman, and himself, and stood ready 
 to defend the house and family. The Johnsons, the Bacons, 
 the Tuckermans and the rest fled, or were ready to fly to the 
 Hoyts or the Wards or the "Pink Jail". Martin Gay has told 
 in another of these papers how his mother passed those awful 
 nights. 
 
 Louis Pope Gratacap 
 
 I would like to tell something of the Gratacap family, whose 
 name is perhaps now scarcely remembered in the place where 
 they lived many years, and particularly of the son Louis, the 
 dear, brilliant friend of all the boys and girls of the neigh- 
 borhood. 
 
 They lived for many years on the Shore Road in the little 
 house standing close to the road on the Pelton property, where 
 it bends in around the head of the cove between Davis and 
 Bement Avenues. 
 
 Mr. Gratacap was of French descent with the vivacity of 
 that race, which, tempered by some generations of American 
 life, showed itself, more than in any other way, by an ever- 
 ready sense of humor. 
 
 Mrs. Gratacap was a lovely, gentle woman, not much known 
 outside of her modest house, which she conducted with her 
 own hands, and appeared to outsiders always serene, unhur- 
 ried and, notwithstanding her may cares, usually at leisure. 
 
 Louis went to the Free Academy, now the College of the 
 City of New York, and it seems to me as if he had always gone 
 there, though of course there must have been something prepa- 
 ratory to it, going up on an early boat and coming back late in 
 the afternoon, so we seldom saw him except on Saturdays and 
 Sundays. 
 
 Saturday mornings, unless there was some stated meeting, 
 such as a baseball game, we boys turned up at the Gratacap 
 house. There was no concerted action about it, we just gravi- 
 tated there, without prearrangement, perhaps without thought ; 
 but we all knew that if we could get Louis, he would think of 
 something worth a boy's doing. 
 
 Louis was always busy helping his mother about the house 
 on Saturday morning, and could not come out till the work 
 was finished, but that did not discourage us, and we sat on 
 the back steps patiently waiting till the boy with the quick 
 
8o 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 brain, the imagination, the natural leadership, came out and 
 set us going at something new and interesting. 
 
 It might be some centuries'-old boys' game, adapted to the 
 situation ; it might be sliding on the little Pelton pond, or even 
 only brushing the snow off it; it might be, on a rainy day, 
 lying comfortably warm and dry in the Pelton haymow while 
 Louis told us stories. Whatever it was, we wholesomely en- 
 joyed ourselves. 
 
 There were certain houses in the neighborhood where the 
 boys and girls were frequently asked to Sunday night supper, 
 and although the Gratacap household was perhaps less well 
 equipped for such entertainment than any other, we were in- 
 vited there as often as anywhere else. We sat and talked in 
 the dining room, which was comfortably heated by a stove, till 
 nearly supper time, when we went into the cold parlor and 
 Louis read to us. 
 
 We did not mind the cold, for his reading was good and his 
 selections happy. It occurs to me now that the first time my 
 attention was called to the fact that Burns's poetry was worthy 
 of a boy's reading was through hearing him read Tarn 
 O'Shanter one of those Sunday evenings. 
 
 Before long, supper was ready, brought up from the kitchen 
 by Mr. and Mrs. Gratacap, dainty, hot, appetizing, and served 
 quickly and quietly. After supper we removed ourselves to 
 the parlor for a few minutes while the table was being cleared, 
 and then back to the warm room for games and talk till nearly 
 going-home time, when Mr. Gratacap produced a big platter 
 of black walnuts, already cracked, which came from a tree near 
 the Pelton farm gate, and with laughter and talk we dug the 
 meat out of their stony shells till it was time to say good-night. 
 
 This was the usual procedure, carried out by the family with 
 a quiet dignity, and always so enjoyable to us that those even- 
 ings have stayed in my memory after many more elaborate 
 entertainments have vanished. 
 
 About 1870 the family circumstances seemed to improve and 
 they built a house on Bement Avenue where they all lived out 
 their lives and the survivor, the elder brother Tom, left it with 
 the greater part of his estate, by will to the Society for the 
 Relief of the Destitute Blind as a memorial to Louis Pope 
 Gratacap. 
 
 The time came when we were all growing up and saw less 
 of the family and, of course, in a less familiar way than we had 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 81 
 
 in childhood, but we always wanted Louis's help in any of our 
 amusements. He was an amateur actor of ability, and a play 
 without Louis in the title role seemed an impossibility. But 
 he was always a hard-working student, and much as he en- 
 joyed people and was enjoyed by them, he preferred to be left 
 alone with his books to spending his evenings in frivolity, so 
 when he had been cast for a part in a play and had refused to 
 take it, we went to his house on rehearsal nights and took him 
 out with us. He never knew his cues or his lines at rehearsals, 
 and was the despair of the manager, but when the night of 
 the performance came his acting carried the whole thing 
 through to success. The last time I saw him in anything of 
 that kind, we were young men and women. One of the girls 
 had lost her pet dog and we had charged the young man to 
 whom she was engaged with having done away with it and 
 fixed a date for his trial. No one, in our opinion, could take 
 the part of judge in such a case as Louis could, and we notified 
 him that he would be wanted. Of course he refused, but we 
 brought him to court on the appointed night and sat him on the 
 bench. 
 
 He conducted the trial with short, crisp, witty rulings and 
 charged the jury in an impromptu review of the evidence, in- 
 terspersed with unrelated Latin quotations, leaving the case 
 even more ludicrously muddled than the counsel and witnesses 
 had been able to make it. 
 
 Always modest, he never sought high honors as a student, 
 although within his grasp. He depreciated his own extraordi- 
 nary ability and shone as a literary genius or public speaker 
 only by effort or compulsion. 
 
 It is interesting to note the circumstances attending his en- 
 trance as a student in the General Theological Seminary of the 
 Protestant Episcopal Church. His father, John L. Gratacap, 
 was an ardent churchman, Senior Warden of St. Mary's 
 Church, West New Brighton, for many years, and at one time 
 in the performance of his duty closed the church against a 
 faction, which sought to control the church. He was a resolute, 
 fighting warden, and was sustained by the bishop. 
 
 After graduating from the Free Academy he studied for a 
 year at the General Theological Seminary, and then took a 
 clerkship in the Park Bank. He was no doubt a good clerk 
 and I know he was nimble with figures, because I once added a 
 column in competition with him, to my chagrin. 
 
82 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 From the bank he went to Columbia School of Mines, and 
 after graduation was always, at college anniversaries, on the 
 honor roll of clever after-dinner speakers. That experience, 
 perhaps the public speaking as well as the scientific training, 
 brought him where he belonged among men of science and to 
 his field of work in the Museum of Natural History. He was 
 learned in many things, among them illuminating gas, on which 
 he became an authority and, it is said, saved the company 
 which introduced the new water gas system from disastrous 
 failure. 
 
 His chief characteristic was his extraordinary versatility. 
 His knowledge of literature, which he improved on every occa- 
 sion, led him to write many books, some religious and philo- 
 sophical, scientific treatises, innumerable articles and a few 
 novels. Possessed of a wonderful vocabulary and an imagina- 
 tion which enabled him to soar to great heights, his works were 
 not appreciated in his lifetime and may not bear the test of 
 criticism as high examples of literature worthy of comparison 
 with Addison or Lamb, or Herbert Spencer. Some of his writ- 
 ings, however, are incomparable in virility, in poetic beauty and 
 in flights of the imagination. His personality was so fine and 
 so inspiring that all his friends felt his power and his influence. 
 
 His specialty was mineralogy, but his versatile mind pro- 
 duced books of worth, from romance through rocks to theology, 
 and he in his modesty valued the one as little as the other. 
 
 As a conversationalist he was unrivalled, and as a friend 
 true as steel. He was essentially a man of the people, intensely 
 interested in workmen, in working women and children, and 
 his cheerfulness and optimism made him universally beloved; 
 he always retained his dignity when he appeared to put himself 
 on a level with those in humbler walks of life. Somewhat re- 
 served in the presence of men of distinction, exaggerating the 
 talents of others and depreciating his own greater powers, he 
 failed to make himself felt in the community by his unusual 
 diffidence and self-abasement. 
 
 It may have been because of that self-depreciation, or it may 
 have been because of the lack of some other characteristic, that 
 he was not as well known and well rewarded as many less valu- 
 able men have been, but it is a pleasure to note that there is a 
 purpose to erect a memorial to him in the Mineralogical Club 
 of New York, by the people who, knowing him, valued and 
 loved him. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 83 
 
 As a public speaker, he was most interesting and instructive. 
 
 His thoughts were sublime, but his expression was like the 
 flow of a river, now swiftly plunging down the rapids and then 
 quietly winding through the meadows. 
 
 Martin Gay. 
 
 December, 1924. Geo. C. Lay, 
 
 In the Proceedings of the Staten Island Ass'n of Arts and Sciences, 
 Vol. VII, 1918, may be found a portrait of Mr. Gratacap and a brief but 
 sympathetic notice, which includes a "List of Papers and Miscellaneous 
 Notes by Mr. Gratacap in the Proceedings of the Natural Science Ass'n of 
 Staten Island", that in itself gives some idea of the versatility of the man's 
 mind and its scientific trend. 
 
 The William Templeton Johnsons 
 
 There still is a big, square house on lower Bement Avenue. 
 It used to be one of two, the only two houses in the stretch from 
 the Shore Road to Castleton Avenue. Mr. Johnson built this 
 and the family occupied it for many years. The big square 
 rooms were often the scene of a charming hospitality and the 
 ''Johnsons' Attic" were words to conjure with. 
 
 Several of Mrs. Johnson's family lived with them. Mrs. 
 Winthrop, her mother; two brothers and two sisters, either 
 made long visits or resided there at times. 
 
 The most distinguished member of the family was Theo- 
 dore, a charming, cultivated young man, who contributed 
 some very well-worth-while books to the list of American au- 
 thors. Perhaps the average modern reader does not know 
 them, but to the generation of the Civil War times and that 
 immediately following, they were a source of great pleasure. 
 
 Young Winthrop was a member of the 7th Regiment, and 
 marched down Broadway when the regiment started on its 
 way south. His "The March of the Seventh" is a most inter- 
 esting account of that event. Robert Shaw marched, too, and 
 there is a little note from Mr. Gay to his wife, saying: "I saw 
 Theodore Winthrop and Bob off today. The former looked 
 very grave. The latter sent thee this (his boyish photograph) 
 with his love." 
 
 Colonel Winthrop was soon killed at Big Bethel ; and later 
 Colonel Shaw was killed, leading his colored regiment in a 
 perfectly hopeless charge on Fort Wagner. 
 
 The other son, William Winthrop, filled an army position 
 
8 4 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 in Washington, and rose to be Judge Advocate General before 
 his death, some twenty-five or thirty years later. 
 
 Mr. William Templeton Johnson was of an old New York 
 family, a big, slow-moving, cultivated, courteous gentleman. 
 Mrs. Johnson was a complete contrast, a little woman, viva- 
 cious, quick of speech and movement, full of fun and repartee, 
 and also was a most cultivated woman. She knew both books 
 and music ; she sang and played a little ; she wrote very pretty 
 verse, knew French and German, and was thoroughly conver- 
 sant with the literature of both countries, as well as of England. 
 
 Her flower garden was a great joy to her and to her neigh- 
 bors, and many rare and lovely flowers found congenial sur- 
 roundings in her various beds. 
 
 The house was full of interesting things, both heirlooms and 
 beautiful objects brought from abroad. The Johnsons knew 
 what was rare and beautiful and cherished such things, and 
 the furnishings of the house bore testimony to this. Miss Win- 
 throp lived always with the Johnsons, and died there, the last 
 of that generation, beloved by her nieces and great-nieces, and 
 by all the neighbors who came in contact with her. 
 
 What Mrs. Johnson did for the pleasure of the young peo- 
 ple of the neighborhood is beyond telling, but those of us who 
 had the privilege of being among the fortunate ones who were 
 bidden to the festivities in the garden or in the attic will never 
 forget them: The children's parties, the dances, the garden 
 parties, the lawn tennis parties, and especially the private the- 
 atricals, and the fun of the Saturday night rehearsals, Mrs. 
 Johnson acting as coach ; the half-hour round the stove after 
 the "work" was over; the jolly, friendly relations into which 
 these young people were thrown, are among the memories 
 never to be forgotten. Then, the night of nights, when the 
 play came off! The stage, put up at one end of the big room, 
 was small, and there was but little change of scenery and no 
 mechanical devices ; the actors were in their teens, and it must 
 have been because we had a friendly audience that the perform- 
 ance existed. It was an intense excitement to peek through the 
 hole in the curtain and pick out our friends — one's own family 
 trying not to appear anxious lest one should fail or stumble 
 over that unlucky phrase to which one always gave the wrong 
 inflection, thus making it give the interpretation not meant by 
 the author. There were all the neighbors, too, and, in the 
 midst, taller than most of his neighbors, was Mr. Curtis, genial 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 BS 
 
 and pleasant to everybody, our most sympathetic and discern- 
 ing critic. How he always found something pleasant to say 
 about the childish little performance! 
 
 Mr. Johnson was, as I said, of an old New York family, and 
 his aunt, Miss Templeton, was the last of that family to live in 
 the old house on Washington Square, and to fall heir to all the 
 family heirlooms of every sort which succeeding members of 
 the family dying, had left behind them. In the course of years 
 Miss Templeton died too, and Mr. Johnson and his sister, Mrs. 
 Biddle of Philadelphia, were her heirs and executors. Mrs. 
 Biddle was something of an invalid, or was too much occupied 
 at home, and Mr. Johnson, with that easy-going way of his, 
 handed the job over to his wife. Mrs. Johnson went at it sys- 
 tematically. She even moved up to town and lived in the 
 house — four stories and an attic, and then a smaller attic some- 
 where above that. The fine pictures, the handsome furniture, 
 the priceless old china and bric-a-brac, the four full silver 
 services (one still wrapped in the papers as it came from the 
 jewelers), were comparatively easily accounted for. But 
 imagine the care it took and the time consumed to watch for 
 every little twist of paper, after having, for curiosity's sake, un- 
 rolled one to find ten ten-dollar bills in it; and these little rolls 
 eventually yielded thousands of dollars. Seven gold watches 
 were found — one in the ragbag, just about to be sent to the 
 ragman. There were beautiful old-fashioned clothes, both men's 
 and women's; dresses, veils, fans, vests, slippers, bonnets, em- 
 broideries, laces and jewels. It was well that Mrs. Johnson 
 was executive ; it was well that the house on Bement Avenue 
 was large, and eventually everything found a resting place in 
 its new surroundings, and the Johnson's house henceforth be- 
 came the most interesting one in the neighborhood. 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
 Edward Bement 
 
 Edward Bement laid out Bement Avenue through what ap- 
 pears to have been one of the long narrow farms that stretched 
 back from the water. As the well known Boiling Spring on 
 the Bement estate south of Castleton Avenue was formerly 
 known as the Kruser spring, and as Mr. Bement's property 
 included the site of the Kruser home, it may be presumed that 
 the former included in his property what was originally the 
 Kruser farm which reached from the Cove south. The old 
 
86 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 white stone story and a half farm house stood near the shore, 
 and the family graveyard lay east of the house. 
 
 The Bement mansion stood near the site of the old Abraham 
 Rolf farmhouse through the middle of whose farm now runs 
 Burger Avenue. 
 
 Pelton House 
 
 Charles E. Anthon in 1850 calls what we know as the Pelton 
 House the DeGroot house. Mr. Alfred DeGroot stated in 1912 
 that this house was probably built by a DeGroot, but that there 
 was no certainty as to this. The stone portion was erected 
 about 1730; that portion which looks to be frame, but which is 
 stone, covered with wood, about 1776, and the brick about 1832. 
 The will of Johannes DeGroot, made in 1786, devised the prop- 
 erty to Garret DeGroot; it passed out of the DeGroot family in 
 1814, and ultimately came into the possession of Daniel Pelton. 
 
 Daniel Pelton cared little for dress, but was shrewd of 
 speech and exceedingly energetic. He was a pronounced aboli- 
 tionist and so outspoken that it was feared the Draft Riot mob 
 would attack his home, as threats had been made. He posses- 
 sed a wonderful memory and while a man of few books made 
 a choice of his reading matter that showed an evident literary 
 turn. His reading was devoted almost exclusively to Milton's 
 Paradise Lost and Pope's translation of Homer, which he read 
 constantly and could quote from at great length. 
 
 During the Revolution this house was occupied by a De- 
 Groot, presumably Johannes. At one time Major Andre, who 
 was executed at Tappan as a spy, was billeted in this house. 
 Mr. Alfred DeGroot's grandmother used to speak of this inci- 
 dent apparently as a personal recollection. Andre was recalled 
 as a gentlemanly and agreeable companion. In 1850 Anthon re- 
 ported a statement by a Mr. Disosway to the effect that while 
 his mother was on one occasion at the DeGroot house, the 
 Asia, a British man o' war, anchored opposite and fired into it. 
 
 A General Duffie, son of a French count and an officer in 
 the French army, was in this country when the Civil War broke 
 out. He volunteered his services, which were accepted, and 
 acted as drill master, being of valuable assistance in this as well 
 as serving at the front. He was wounded and came to Staten 
 Island to recuperate. He appears to have taken up his abode 
 in the Pelton house where he was thrown into the society of 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 87 
 
 Mary Ann Pelton, and the usual happened, the situation being 
 materially helped by the farm lane which was lined with cherry 
 trees and was as secluded as a hopeful young woman could ask. 
 
 This "Kruser's lane", now Pelton Avenue, was long known 
 as "Lovers' Lane." It follows in part what is said to have been 
 an Inland trail to the Cove. A brief romance between a Brit- 
 ish officer and an Island girl, who haunted the lane together, 
 is said to have given the lane its proper title. He finally left 
 the Island, and she did the haunting alone thereafter. Both the 
 name and the atmosphere clung to the lane for many years. 
 Morris quotes Captain Richard Christopher as reminiscing 
 over the time when he and Molly Fountain "used to stroll, 
 hand-in-hand, up and down that lane." No doubt many an- 
 other romance was helped on its way by this shady bower. 
 
 Kruser House 
 
 Somewhat back and a trifle west of the Pelton house for- 
 merly stood, according to Alfred DeGroot, the Kruser house. 
 It is said that the Eberhard Faber house now stands about on 
 its site, but there seems to be no certainty as to this. Morris 
 states that General Cortlandt Skinner, who commanded a troop 
 of Tories in the interests of the British, occupied the Kruser 
 house as headquarters in 1776, and that the Skinner and Kruser 
 families, being on intimate terms, the latter was not unduly 
 disturbed. William IV, at that time the youngest admiral in the 
 British Navy, is said to have stopped here. The family burial 
 ground lay just east of the house ; stones of 1787, 1807 and 1815 
 spell the name Cruser but earlier ones dating back to 1760 spell 
 it Kroese. Garret Cruser. the first of the name on Staten Is- 
 land, received a grant of 160 acres of land in 1677, presumably 
 at this point. In August. 1777, the American troops under 
 General Sullivan made a raid on Staten Island. The small 
 body of soldiers under the command of a Major Pearce en- 
 countered a much superior bodv of English troops at this cove 
 and were compelled to retreat, leaving behind them a number 
 of prisoners who had been taken in a redoubt, which stood on 
 the site of the Church of the Ascension, West New Brighton. 
 
 In the Staten Islander for December 7, 191c, Ira K. Morris 
 writes that he had seen a letter several years before written to 
 a carpenter and builder on Staten Island in which was an or- 
 der to inspect the Rose and Crown farmhouse at New Dorp 
 
88 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 and to erect at the Cove on the North Shore a dwelling similar 
 in style of architecture and proportions. The letter was dated 
 July 23, 1722, and signed by Joseph Rolph. Mr. Morris states 
 that the building passed into the hands of the Krusers prior to 
 the Revolution. 
 
 The present house was erected by one Dean. It passed to 
 G. W. Campbell and from him to the Staten Island Athletic 
 Club, about 1885. The athletes fitted up the dwelling as a club- 
 house and erected a boathouse on the shore of the Kill. The 
 old Kruser burial ground has been covereu over, but the vault 
 remained and this was used by the club in its initiation of new 
 members, who were lowered into its grisly depths for a few 
 moments of quiet contemplation. 
 
 The house is now generally known as the Faber house. 
 
 During that time when the Athletic Club occupied the Faber 
 house, certain of its more convivial members organized the 
 Cruser Club. Judging from reports at this late date, the chief 
 article of its constitution appears to have been the flowing 
 bowl. There were no midnights dreary for these athletes, if 
 the stories which have floated down the years can be depended 
 on. Most of these have to do with their methods of amusing 
 themselves and their earnest efforts to reach home in time for 
 breakfast. 
 
 In these stories, the instability of the lamp posts of the 
 neighborhood, around 4 a. m., figure largely. 
 
 There was one performance that showed an adaptability to 
 circumstances and a certain originality that have helped pre- 
 serve it in some detail from oblivion. About once in so often, at 
 the hour when graveyards yawn, these athletes would lay hold 
 on Jimmy Hickey, the waiter, and sally forth to that part of the 
 grounds still inhabited by the Crusers. Here Jimmy would be 
 required to pull away the stone that covered the family vault 
 and descend into its depths, and here he remained until he 
 offered up the "Cruser Prayer," whatever that may have been. 
 They then returned to the clubhouse for a further perusal of 
 the constitution and the smoothing down of Jimmy's ruffled 
 feathers. After that, the early birds would lay a course for 
 home that usually included the lamp posts on both sides of the 
 street. It is too late now to write up the history of those 
 lamp posts, but there is ample testimony that they were in 
 clined to unbend during the small hours. They are reported 
 to have had a most tantalizing way of side-stepping at the very 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 89 
 
 moment when their earnest support was most needed, or of 
 bumping off some befogged gentleman into an opposite direc- 
 tion from that in which his home fires were burning and, as 
 these travelers were prone to hold to a course, once it was 
 laid, the return journey was sometimes delayed until the big, 
 round, red Mr. Sun arose to clear away the morning mists. 
 Occasionally, however, these lamp posts stood staunch and 
 true, and were of material aid to some puzzled party who, after 
 walking around the block three times, seemed no nearer home 
 than when the journey was started. 
 
 Those lamp posts have gone the way of the milestones that 
 helped a still earlier generation toward its goal, and we are glad 
 of the opportunity to preserve their memory, if ever so briefly. 
 
 Factory ville — Corktown 
 
 That part of West New Brighton immediately west Of 
 Burgher Avenue and adjoining Factoryville was formerly 
 known as "Corktown," for a reason so obvious that no expla- 
 nation is necessary. 
 
 Factoryville appears to have been owned and laid out by 
 Col. Nathan Barrett, in 1836. Broadway runs through the 
 place. Presumably it was the dwelling place of those who 
 worked in the dyeing and cleaning works. 
 
 The Barrett factory buildings were at one time known as 
 "The College Buildings", for the reason that they were com- 
 pletely covered with ivy. 
 
 "A certain gentleman residing in Southfield is hereby re- 
 quested to call at the Factoryville store and pay for the Olive 
 Cloth he purchased, October 19th ; otherwise he will hear more 
 from D. V. N. M., Factoryville, Jan. 6, 1834." 
 
 — Richmond Co. Free Press, January 18, 1834. 
 
 Barrett House 
 
 Colonel Nathan Barrett's house still stands on the sharp 
 bend in the road beyond Broadway, but a portion has been used 
 as a saloon, and the building with its tall columns gives ample 
 evidence that it has descended from its high estate. Colonel 
 Barrett was of the old New York Dyeing & Printing estab- 
 lishment, the buildings of which are immediately south of the 
 Barrett home, but following a disagreement among the part- 
 
go 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 ners, he resigned and started the firm of Barrett, Nephews & 
 Co. on Cherry Lane. The latter firm finally purchased the 
 dyeing and printing concern, and removed to the older premises 
 on Broadway. Major C. T. Barrett who was president of the 
 dyeing company in 1906, when he died, was a landscape archi- 
 tect by choice. The Major enlisted in the 156th Regiment, N. Y. 
 Volunteers, in 1862, and served until the end of the war. He 
 was brevetted major for bravery in the assaults on the Spanish 
 Fort and Fort Blakely in the campaign that resulted in the 
 capture of Mobile. 
 
 Pine's Store and Lafayette Morgan 
 
 Pine's Store on the Terrace next beyond the old home of 
 Colonel Barrett is frequently mentioned by those inclined to 
 reminisce. It was one of those places where one could get any- 
 thing from a potato to the kitchen Queen who was to cook it. 
 Lafayette Morgan, delivery man on the eastern route, has also 
 called forth many a pleasant memory. He knew everybody 
 and was so well liked that when, after Mr. Pine's failure, he 
 went to another grocer, he took his customers with him. 
 
 Lafayette never failed to make his daily comment on the 
 weather, which formed a safe and agreeable topic of conversa- 
 tion with his customers. He was the errand man for the neigh- 
 borhood, taking bundles and notes from one to another, our 
 dresses to and from the dressmaker, our mail to and from the 
 post office. A more accommodating and good-natured man 
 never existed, nor a more useful to a country neighborhood. 
 
 His was the only sleigh that careful mothers allowed their 
 children to "hitch" on. He conveyed the children of succeed- 
 ing generations up and down the streets, tied to the big sleigh 
 in winter, inside the covered wagon in summer. Nothing ruf- 
 fled him but once, when Frank Waller sat unexpectedly into a 
 deep box full of fresh eggs. 
 
 Fountain House 
 
 Fountain House site, adjoining the Church of the Ascen- 
 sion. According to Morris, the house was erected about 1750 
 by one Macgregor. During the Revolution it was fired by Gen- 
 eral Sullivan during a raid on Staten Island, but was saved 
 from destruction by the British. After the war it was enlarged 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 9i 
 
 and was known as Macgregor's Inn. Col. Nathan Barrett 
 rented the house from 1821 to 1828, during which period it was 
 a political headquarters as well as hotel, and was known as the 
 Shore House. In 1828 Capt. Henry Fountain purchased it, and 
 he and his son ran it as the Fountain House until 1859, when it 
 ceased to be a hotel. In 1861 a group of Southerners rented the 
 house and occupied it during the early part of the war. These 
 naturally kept very much to themselves and were watched with 
 distrustful eyes. In 1896 the building was demolished to make 
 room for the Tompkins department store. 
 
 Many a ball of note was given in the old Fountain House 
 ballroom ; one of these, that given by the Tompkins Guards in 
 1843, resulted in a riot because uninvited guests threw stones 
 through the windows after having been expelled from the ball- 
 room. They could not understand why any one should be de- 
 prived the freedom of a public house. In the thirties and for- 
 ties the Franklin Library was maintained in a back room. This 
 contained a valuable collection of books and was supported by 
 the prominent men of the North Shore. Elections were held 
 here. In one, it is said, the honest politicians paid out over 
 $500 for dinners for voters. The salary attached to the office 
 sought was $400. 
 
 It was in the Fountain House that Allen Dodworth, the 
 famous bandmaster, began his career. At the end of each 
 dance he would strike his bow on the back of his violin as a 
 signal for dancers to walk up and pay the musicians. It was 
 in this old ballroom that the expression "fiddlers' change" had 
 its origin. On the veranda of this place Wendell Phillips made 
 one of his famous abolition speeches, after an introduction by 
 George William Curtis, but the Factoryville copperhead 
 roughs broke up the meeting. The house had a long and 
 eventful history. 
 
 Mrs. Leonowens 
 
 A few years after the Civil War there arrived in our midst 
 a stranger, an Englishwoman, and provided with most ample 
 letters of introduction. These letters were to Mrs. William 
 Templeton Johnson of Bement Avenue, but, once met, no let- 
 ters of introduction were necessary to establish Mrs. Leon- 
 owens among us as one of the most gracious and charming of 
 personalities. 
 
92 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 She was, as I have said, of English birth, married in her 
 youth to an officer of the British Army of, I think, Welsh ex- 
 traction. Of him we gathered but little, but I have the impres- 
 sion of a rather dashing, unstable chap who died early, leaving 
 his young widow and two tiny children to shift for themselves 
 in India. 
 
 The widow was one of those dauntless souls who bravely 
 faced this cruel situation and looked about her for means of 
 support. Learning that the King of Siam wanted an English 
 governess for his eighty-one children, Mrs. Leonowens applied 
 for the situation and was accepted. 
 
 Her daughter was sent home to England to be educated, 
 but the younger child, a boy, she kept with her. For several 
 years Mrs. Leonowens held this position, and the story of her 
 experiences she has told in two very interesting books, "The 
 English Governess at the Siamese Court", and "The Romance 
 of the Harem". 
 
 That her teachings were not in vain has been proved, I have 
 understood, by the fact that the then Crown Prince, on his 
 accession to the throne, abolished many of the most objec- 
 tionable and un-European customs and habits of his court and 
 kingdom and made the Siamese Government more modern and 
 humane. 
 
 I do not know why this position ended for Mrs. Leonowens, 
 or when she returned to England, but I do remember hearing 
 the older people say that a woman of her brilliant and aggres- 
 sive personality, of her initiative and outspoken freedom of 
 action, must have found the conservatism and the hidebound 
 observance of precedents and custom of her English relations 
 of half a century ago too trying to be long borne. 
 
 So armed with letters of introduction to some outstanding 
 Americans, Mrs. Leonowens and her beautiful daughter came 
 to the United States. This time the boy was left in England 
 to be educated. 
 
 Why she chose Staten Island as a residence, I do not know ; 
 perhaps her thought was to be near New York, and the letter 
 to Mrs. Johnson from Mrs. James T. Fields of Boston settled 
 it. At any rate, she came and established herself in the little 
 house on the corner of the Terrace and what is now Tompkins 
 Place, in West New Brighton, or Factoryville as it was then. 
 She and Avis then opened a school for little children, and all 
 of us who were old enough to go were enrolled as pupils. Some 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 93 
 
 of us were so small that we could not walk that far, and had 
 to be dragged over the snow on our sleds. Miss Avis was the 
 real teacher, though I remember Mrs. Leonowens sitting at 
 a big table in the schoolroom. Here Mrs. Leonowens wrote 
 her books, and also from here she began to go about delivering 
 lectures on Siam and the East. This, I fancy, was her real 
 business, for I remember absences on lecturing tours through- 
 out the neighboring States ; and everywhere she made friends, 
 people who grew to love and admire her till the day of her 
 death. 
 
 She was a brunette with waving hair, parted above a pair of 
 brilliant, eager, searching eyes, rather a tanned skin, and a 
 warm-hearted, affectionate manner which endeared her to all 
 who met her. 
 
 It wis a red-letter day when Mrs. Leonowens came to call, 
 and more especially when she was invited to a meal. Conver- 
 sation was always lively then, and most interesting, even if a 
 bit over the head of the youngest member of the family, and 
 there were sure to be references to, and stories of, Eastern life, 
 full of interest and thrills of adventure equal to those found in 
 the best of our books. 
 
 Some years after Mrs. Leonowens had left the Island, one 
 of the eighty-one children whose education she had undertaken 
 in Siam, arrived in New York on his way around the world, 
 attended by a suitable suite of Siamese nobles and heralded by 
 all the newspapers. Mrs. Leonowens came down from Hali- 
 fax, where she then lived, to meet his Royal Highness. A large 
 reception was given the Prince and Mrs. Leonowens by Mrs. 
 Vincenzo Botta, and Mrs. Leonowens sent invitations to her 
 old Staten Island friends. It was my good fortune to be urged 
 to attend this social function by an ever-thoughtful mother. 
 Arrayed in my best silk dress, with little bonnet to match, and 
 scared nearly to death, I heard my name announced at Mrs. 
 Botta's awesome drawing-room door. 
 
 At the end of one room stood a long line of short, oriental 
 gentlemen, but, alas! dressed in frock coats and the conven- 
 tional shirt and four-in-hand tie, a bitter disappointment, for 
 I had expected silken flowing robes and perhaps turbans and 
 cimetars ; but about the latter I was a bit in doubt. 
 
 Mrs. Leonowens took my hand and presented me to the 
 Prince, rapidly speaking in Siamese and as rapidly translating, 
 "That I had been an old pupil of hers." He bowed and, placing 
 
94 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 a pointing finger on his breast, said in English, "I, too! I, 
 too!" 
 
 The last and most vivid picture in my mind of Mrs. Leon- 
 owens and her Siamese connection is of her two little Indian 
 grandchildren. Her son, on reaching manhood, went back to 
 Siam and received some position at the hands of the King, 
 married an Indian Princess with an English father (so the tale 
 went) and died, leaving two children, and nothing else, to Mrs. 
 Leonowens. These children and their Indian nurse were 
 brought to Halifax, where the nurse attended them in the 
 street, holding large silk parasols over their noble little heads 
 and deeply resenting the lack of the respect for which their 
 exalted position called. 
 
 Mary Otis (Gay) Willcox. 
 
 Church of the Ascension 
 
 The Church of the Ascension stands on the site of an Indian 
 village. "When the new Parish House was erected in 1903, 
 shells and implements are said to have been found. During the 
 Revolution the British had a redoubt here. In 1777 a small 
 body of American troops under a Major Pearce attacked this 
 redoubt and took a number of prisoners whom they were forced 
 to abandon when in turn attacked by superior numbers at what 
 was later called Pelton's Cove. 
 
 Before the Civil War it was a common sight of a pleasant 
 Sunday morning to see a fleet of small boats put out from Ber- 
 gen Point for the foot of Water St., West New Brighton, to at- 
 tend services in the Church of the Ascension. Many was the 
 quarter and half dollar that some of the nimble youths of these 
 parts earned in those days by rowing the Latourettes, Zabrisk- 
 ies and other Bergen Pointers to and from church. 
 
 The First Bakery on the North Shore 
 
 About 1832, John Bush, then about 27 years of age, bought 
 a property on the water side of the Shore Road, at the foot of 
 Water Street, from the Bodine estate. The lot was 108 feet 
 frontage, and ran back to tide water 100 feet more or less. 
 
 On this property he established a bakery which is believed 
 to be the first one on the North Shore. It became the center 
 of an active business for those early days, employing three 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 95 
 
 bread bakers, two cake and cracker bakers, and four drivers 
 with the necessary equipment of horses and wagons for the 
 various delivery routes. 
 
 The delivery routes covered the north and east shores with 
 the interior territory adjacent thereto, the most important be- 
 ing the Quarantine Station and Grymes' Hill routes, the latter 
 serving Madam Grymes, who was a favorite and particular 
 patron of this bakery. Another valuable patron was the Sailors 
 Snug Harbor institution. 
 
 This business flourished until about 1845, when Mr. Bush 
 closed out and retired to a small farm he had purchased at 
 Watchogue, or Bloomfield, as it is now called, where he died 
 in 1875. 
 
 This John Bush was the grandson of a John Bush — his Rev- 
 olutionary ancestor — who came over from England under Gen- 
 eral Wolfe and fought with the English at the Plains of Abra- 
 ham in the taking of Quebec. Later he settled in the States, 
 marrying an American, and when the Revolution broke out he 
 cast his lot with the Americans, fighting with the Continentals 
 at Bunker Hill, as related in Clute's History of Staten Island. 
 
 His son William was the father of the John Bush of this 
 sketch, who was left an orphan at the age of 4 years, and was 
 adopted by Catherine Drisler, his father's sister, in 1809. I n 
 this home he learned the bakery business from his uncle, Henry 
 Drisler, who had established one of the earliest — if not the 
 first — bakeries on Staten Island, at Tompkinsville, opposite the 
 old Nautilus Hall. Mr. Drisler had two sons, Henry and John, 
 with whom young Bush attended school. The two Drisler 
 boys were studious and attended college, John becoming an 
 episcopal clergyman and Henry a professor in Columbia 
 College. 
 
 Under these conditions it seemed quite natural for Mr. Bush 
 to follow his uncle and foster-father in the bakery business, 
 which he did, later establishing his own bakery on the North 
 Shore, at the foot of Water Street, West New Brighton, in 
 1832; that general locality being known as Factoryville. 
 
 At that period the principal settlements on the Island were 
 naturally along the South and North Shores, and this section 
 in the immediate vicinity of Trinity Chapel — now Ascension 
 Church — was peopled with many of the leading families of the 
 North Shore, among them the DeGroots, Clarks, Woodruffs, 
 Barkers, Barretts, Crabtrees, Bodines, Fountains and Taylors, 
 
9 6 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 the names of some of whom are still perpetuated in the names 
 of the streets in that vicinity. 
 
 The patronage of these families resulted in the establish- 
 ment of an excellent private school which was taught by one 
 Adlam, a man of rather superior qualifications as an educator, 
 assisted by his two capable daughters. Mr. Adlam limited his 
 school to twenty pupils, most of them children of the aforesaid 
 families, but a few came from prominent families residing at 
 Bergen Point, just across the Kill van Kull. 
 
 Lawyer Alfred DeGroot and his brothers, John and James ; 
 Dr. James G. Clark, Ward Woodruff and Alfred, his brother; 
 John Barker with his brother and two sisters; Mary Barrett 
 and her brother, and William Bush, son of the John Bush of 
 this sketch, were all pupils of Master Adlam. The school was 
 located in "The Village", or Factoryville, as it was then called ; 
 the definite site not now known, but probably on Broadway. 
 
 Mr. Bush left four children, two of whom are still living: 
 Mrs. Frances J. Merrell of Mariners' Harbor, and William 
 Bush of New Brighton, father of Mrs. T. Livingstone Ken- 
 nedy of Fort Hill, now in his 95th year, from whom many of 
 the facts mentioned herein have been learned. 
 
 The bakery property after Mr. Bush retired, about 1845, 
 was rented by him, and subsequently by his heirs, for various 
 business purposes. The house was used for a dwelling, and 
 also in later years for a grocery, the latter kept by one Charles 
 Schneider. 
 
 The barns and stables were leased for a long period by 
 Elijah Vanderbilt, father of Cornelius Vanderbilt, the con- 
 tractor who carried on there a flourishing livery business in the 
 days when gasolene and the motors propelled thereby were not 
 even dreamed of. 
 
 The land under water adjacent to Mr. Bush's property and 
 the riparian rights in which he had not availed of in his life- 
 time, together with the adjoining land under water in the cove 
 between West New Brighton and Port Richmond, was very 
 actively sought after by the S. I. Rapid Transit R. R. Co., 
 which wanted it for trackage purposes some time in the latter 
 part of the 19th Century. Many of the upland owners, notably 
 Mrs. Baldwin Douglas and Adam Romer, resisted this attempt 
 of the railroad company, which led to expensive litigation, the 
 results of which were not very satisfactory to the property 
 owners who were parties to it. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 97 
 
 The Bush heirs declined to join in this litigation, following 
 the advice of their counsel, DeGroot, Rawson & Stafford. The 
 railroad company had started proceedings to acquire from the 
 State the land under water of those upland owners who had 
 not themselves obtained grants therefor from the State, paying 
 to the State authorities the sum of $10,000, it is stated, in con- 
 sideration therefor. Accordingly many people thought the 
 Bush heirs by their inactivity had forfeited their riparian rights. 
 This, however, proved to be not the case, as they subsequently 
 employed the noted legal expert in such matters, the late Cal- 
 vin D. Van Name, in 1906, to secure the grant to them of the 
 land under water adjacent to their property out to the bulk- 
 head line, which they acquired and subsequently sold to the 
 Rapid Transit Railroad Company for a substantial figure. 
 The railroad company filled in out to their tracks and beyond, 
 and erected on this site the present West Brighton freight 
 station. 
 
 Later on, when the old house was demolished, the old brick 
 oven, unused since 1845, was disclosed to public gaze, exciting 
 much curiosity and speculation among the then residents of 
 that neighborhood, very few of whom were aware that this was 
 the site of what was probably the earliest bakery in that part 
 of Staten Island. 
 
 Nothing now remains but the memory of this once flour- 
 ishing bakery and the other business activities formerly car- 
 ried on at this spot. 
 
 Marie Alice Bush Kennedy. 
 
 Dr. James Guyon Clark 
 
 Dr. James Guyon Clark, who died in 1915, at the age of 
 go years, resided at the east corner of Taylor Street. His 
 father, Dr. Ephraim Clark, built here about 1825, and here he 
 also established a drug store. Dr. J. G. Clark established his 
 medical reputation by the remarkable cure of a young daughter 
 of Edward Bement, after the leading physicians of this coun- 
 try, Paris, and London, had given her up. This and another 
 notable case in Bayonne gave him a nationwide reputation. 
 His hobbies appear to have been books, horses, friends, and a 
 group of large black walnut trees that cast their grateful shade 
 over his residence, some of which are still standing. 
 
98 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 The Dongan Manor 
 
 The Dongan Manor house stood in the square bounded by 
 Richmond Terrace, Dongan, Cedar and Bodine Streets. It 
 was erected in 1688 by Governor Thomas Dongan, and was 
 destroyed by fire on Christmas Day, 1878. The Dongan mill 
 stood further south, v/here Post Avenue crosses the east 
 branch of Palmer's Run. Old New York City records contain 
 an account of a meeting of the council at which it was noted 
 that Governor Dongan was absent, being "at his hunting lodge 
 on Staten Island, killing bears." 
 
 In due time Thomas Dongan succeeded to the earldom of 
 Limerick, in Ireland, and conveyed his Staten Island property 
 to his three nephews. The Manor house remained in the Don- 
 gan family until 1795, when it passed to John McVicker who, 
 in 1802, sold to Alexander McComb. This may have been 
 Major General McComb, the "hero of Plattsburg." The Bo- 
 dines were the next owners, then came Judge Ogden Edwards, 
 of the Supreme Court. Following him came Jacob Bodine, 
 Jacob Post, C. Willis Windsor, J. H. Williamson and Albert 
 Bodine, the last owner. 
 
 No doubt many stories might be discovered concerning the 
 occupants of this historic old house, though we have happened 
 on but two. 
 
 During the Revolution the Dongan Manor house was oc- 
 cupied by John Bodine. Having received a large sum of money 
 one day, he concealed it beneath the hearthstone, lest rumors of 
 his wealth tempt those who break in and steal to pay him a 
 professional visit. Whether the news did get out, or whether 
 they were on a regular tour of inspection, is not known, but 
 he was called on by a body of British soldiers, and ordered to 
 surrender his money. He claimed to have none and, after they 
 had seached the house diligently, but with no success, they 
 took him in hand and, stripping him, applied to the soles of 
 his feet and other parts of his body live coals from the fire 
 that was at the very moment burning above the gold they were 
 seeking. Their host, however, clung to his original tale until 
 they gave up the attempt, leaving him to mend his hurts as 
 best he could. No doubt Mr. Bodine would have whole-heart- 
 edly agreed with General Sherman's definition of war, had the 
 General but spoken at an earlier date. 
 
 Anthon quotes Doctor Moore as saying, in 1850, that, when 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 99 
 
 young, he used to amuse himself by picking shot out of the 
 shingles of the house, fired against it by a British vessel, which 
 grounded in passing, and which discharged small shot at the 
 building in revenge for not having been informed of the shal- 
 lowness of the water. 
 
 The histories tell us that Judge Ogden Edwards bought the 
 Dongan Manor house, but was finally compelled to surrender 
 it because he could not carry the mortgage. Family records, 
 however, indicate a somewhat different situation. According 
 to these, the Judge did bargain for the property and a price was 
 fixed, but he could not, or did not care to meet it, and com- 
 promised by renting the place. When he had paid in rent an 
 amount of money equal to the agreed price, he calmly an- 
 nounced that the property was his. The owner, not being in 
 accord with this view of the situation, brought suit to re- 
 cover his property, but owing, apparently, to the position of 
 the Judge on the bench, lost his case. He then came to New 
 York and secured the services of a celebrated lawyer, who soon 
 poked so many holes in the Judge's claim that it would no 
 longer stand the light of day, and the Judge moved on. 
 
 The Road as It Was 
 
 The road, at least east of Palmer's Run or Bodine's Creek, 
 was formerly very low and swampy, and on stormy nights 
 when the tide was at flood, the bridge over the creek was a 
 terror to belated travelers. It is recalled that Dr. Clark drove 
 his team of horses into the creek one such night, and had a 
 mighty struggle to regain the land. In fact, so outrageously 
 bad was the traveling under such circumstances that when a 
 Port Richmond beau could be induced to venture so far afield 
 to call on any young lady resident along here, it was consid- 
 ered a sure sign that she was the belle of the countryside. 
 
 There existed at one time a high sand hill between the 
 Dongan Manor house and the water, but some fifty years or 
 so ago this was removed under the direction of Robert Ward- 
 law, a civil engineer, and used to fill in the low land in order 
 to raise the Terrace above the floods. This hill appears to 
 have been an Indian burial mound, as skeletons and many im- 
 plements of the vanished race were found. 
 
IOO 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 The Irish Cow-Frog of Britton's Pond 
 
 The plain truth concerning it as narrated to Charles W. 
 Leng by Davy Carlin, who was formerly employed by Adam 
 Scott : 
 
 The capture of this frog by two men from the city, and the 
 accurate determination of its weight, finally disposes of the 
 rumors that have been prevalent in West New Brighton con- 
 cerning it for the last ten years. It is said to have been brought 
 to this country in captivity, from Ireland, a number of years 
 ago, by a man who was employed about the icehouse at the 
 southern end of the pond, and who had the habit of securing 
 it in the shallow water of the pond while at work. He valued 
 it as the only specimen of Irish Cow-Frog in this country, and 
 was deeply chagrined when, one day, it made its escape. 
 Many vain attempts were made to recapture it, though it ap- 
 parently never left Britton's Pond, for its remarkably deep and 
 resonant tones, resembling the "honk-honk" of an automobile, 
 were often heard, and it was repeatedly seen by children — of 
 whom it seemed to have no fear — though very shy when adults 
 were about. Davy himself states that he often heard it, and 
 had no difficulty in recognizing the difference between its 
 tones and those of the ordinary bullfrog. On one occasion, in 
 particular, when returning very late at night — or early in the 
 morning — from a wake, the automobile-like ton^s so deceived 
 him that he jumped to one side to avoid the machine he sup- 
 posed was responsible for the sound, and on the repetition of 
 the honk-honk, jumped repeatedly from side to side of the 
 road, under the impression that the chauffeur was pursuing 
 him, until quite exhausted. If it had not been for the good 
 luck of finding the Point House open, so that he could pro- 
 cure a little of the same stimulant with which he had been 
 supplied at the wake, the consequences of his fright might have 
 been serious. 
 
 The Irish Cow-Frog was considered harmless, and it was 
 even said that small children sometimes rode on its back. The 
 woman who lives behind the icehouse missed her youngest, a 
 boy of four years, one day, and after some search, found him on 
 the opposite shore. The boy claimed to have ridden over on the 
 Irish Cow-Frog's back, and the mother whipped him soundly 
 for lying; but unjustly, in Davy's opinion, for there was noth- 
 ing impossible in a frog of this size, weighing 150 pounds on 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 IOI 
 
 the scales, swimming the short distance involved, with the 
 boy clinging to him, as he naturally would. 
 
 The weight has been increased by popular gossip to 274 
 pounds, but, as Davy properly pointed out, no one ever heard 
 of a frog attaining such a prodigious weight, and the actual 
 known weight is sufficient to maintain the reputation of the 
 Irish Cow-Frog as the largest of its race, without resorting to 
 unnecessary exaggeration. 
 
 Subsequent Note. — Davy Carlin has informed the authors 
 concerning the last days of the Cow-Frog on Staten Island. 
 It became evident, just before the World War, that the frog 
 was languishing; two warts on its back that were formerly, 
 when the frog was in good health, as large as watermelons, 
 became much reduced, and its voice could not be heard over a 
 quarter c: a mile. A road contractor by the name of Hooligan, 
 from the same town in Ireland from whence first came the 
 Cow-Frog, offered his services and, bringing a motor truck and 
 derrick, a chain was deftly slipped under the frog, while its 
 back was being stroked by one of its juvenile playmates, and 
 it was hoisted aboard. It was carted down to the American 
 Docks, placed aboard a ship, and transported to Ireland. It 
 arrived safely, and now lives happily in a pond in County Lim- 
 erick, which is not far from Tipperary, its health having been 
 completely restored on regaining its native environment. 
 
 Port Richmond 
 
 The Clove road is the division line between West New 
 Brighton and Port Richmond. 
 
 As different individuals operated the ferry at this point, it 
 was known in part or places after their names, as Decker's, 
 Ryers', Dacosta's, Hilleker's, or Mersereau's Ferry. At one 
 time the Port Richmond locality was known as New Bristol. 
 It is said that the ferry to Bergen Point is the lineal descendant 
 of a very early ferry, possibly established by the Indians and 
 taken over by the Dutch. It was at least operated so long ago 
 as to be useful in helping to remove the Dutch from Staaten 
 Eylandt at the outbreak of the "Peach War", when those who 
 escaped the tomahawk did so by crossing from here to the 
 mainland. The town of Port Richmond was chartered in 1866. 
 
 Eighty years ago, more or less, a wheezy old horse-boat 
 carried passengers between Port Richmond and Bergen Point ; 
 
102 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 the motive power was a treadmill, that broke down on the 
 slightest pretext, and it would sometimes take an hour to make 
 the passage. 
 
 James Hillyer, born 1831, remembers as a small boy, about 
 1839, watching Coyle's horse-boat cross the Kill van Kull. If 
 the tide were strong, the operator of the boat had to whip the 
 horses on its treadmill to prevent the boat drifting towards 
 the bay; the galloping animals on the treadmill being a great 
 attraction. 
 
 Alfred DeGroot 
 
 The DeGroot house at the corner of the Clove Road was 
 built about 100 years ago. presumably by one Hilleker, who 
 ran a ferry at Port Richmond during the very early years of 
 the 19th Century. 
 
 In 182 1, Dr. Ephraim Clark, Jr., settled on Staten Island, 
 this house being his first home, and it was here that Dr. James 
 Guyon Clark was born, and from here that Dr. Clark moved 
 to his own home at the corner of Taylor Street. 
 
 Alfred DeGroot deserves more than a passing word. He 
 was not only a good man, commanding the respect of all, but 
 he was a good lawyer. It used to be said that, whenever two 
 farmers got at loggerheads, both harnessed their horses and 
 drove for Mr. DeGroot post-haste; the one who reached him 
 first and secured his services being assured of victory. Mr. De- 
 Groot was mentioned by Anthon, in 1850, as a promising young 
 man. He was much interested in the history and story of the 
 Island and, having a fine memory, was referred to frequently 
 in such matters. He is credited with being largely responsible 
 for much of the early success of Port Richmond; was instru- 
 mental in securing the land for the park, and saw to the plant- 
 ing of the trees. He suggested many of the broad streets and 
 avenues. He was generous to the poor and to those who stood 
 in need of good counsel. As one has said of him, "Whatever 
 he had was only his to give to whomsoever needed it more." 
 
 Jewett. Avenue 
 
 Mr. Alfred DeGroot once told how Betsy Simonson swept 
 all before her. It seems that Colonel Richard Conner was 
 commissioned to survey Jewett Avenue, from Cherry Lane 
 (now, by the grace of the politicians, Forest Avenue) to Rich- 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 103 
 
 mond Terrace. When the surveyors appeared on the scene, 
 Betsy Simonson, who lived at the northern end of the pro- 
 posed route, and who did not approve of a road through her 
 property, came forth, armed with a broom and, with its aid, 
 put up such an effective argument that the Colonel ran with 
 the best of them. Whether the authorities had the law on the 
 lady, or whether some other more delicate method of persua- 
 sion was used, is not now recalled, but whatever it may have 
 been, it was evidently more convincing than her line of reason- 
 ing, as the road was eventually put through. 
 
 Danner's Hotel 
 
 Danner's Hotel, the old Port Richmond Hotel, stands on 
 the site of the brick dwelling of Captain Isaac Decker, which 
 was burned during the Revolution by the American General 
 Sullivan, in a raid on Staten Island. This Decker, who was a 
 fisherman, had made himself quite obnoxious by his loyalist 
 leanings. When the British fleet approached the Lower Bay 
 it anchored outside of Sandy Hook to wait for pilots. Decker, 
 who seems to have been the leader, went down with others 
 and brought the ships safely in, piloting them to a landing 
 place, and himself coming on shore in the first boat. This gave 
 him considerable local notoriety. When the British army be- 
 came established on Staten Island, Decker joined it and was 
 given command of a troop of mounted Loyalists. After his 
 house was destroyed by the Americans, the British erected a 
 small fort on the site. 
 
 Shortly after the Revolution, Judge David Mersereau built 
 a dwelling here. At the time it was considered the finest house 
 on Staten Island. About 1820, the property was sold and the 
 house converted into the Port Richmond Hotel. Later the 
 name was changed to the Continental Hotel, and still later to 
 the St. James. Col. Aaron Burr spent the closing year of his 
 life here, and died in this house on September 14, 1836. In this 
 connection, it may be interesting to quote what John Flavel 
 Mines wrote concerning Burr, which was copied in the West- 
 field (Staten Island) Times of May 21, 1887, from the New 
 York Evening Post: 
 
 "During the last illness of Aaron Burr, when he lay dying 
 at New Brighton, my Uncle David was sent for to visit him. 
 He found his patient past help, conscious of his doom and 
 
104 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 ready for it. Alone, shunned on all sides, impoverished, with 
 no friend to close his eyes, I have always felt that he might 
 have cried with Cain, 'My punishment is greater than I can 
 bear!' My uncle found him silent, morose, shabby, and cynical 
 in the extreme — a wonderful contrast to the brilliant statesman 
 and elegant leader of society whom he had met as a youth at 
 Richmond Hill, his magnificent home in this city. Burr said 
 to my uncle that he was glad the end had come, and that he 
 had wanted to die ever since his daughter Theodosia had dis- 
 appeared, on her last ocean voyage, and then he broke forth 
 into bitter denunciation of the 'hounds who had pursued him 
 to the grave.' 
 
 "I have never wondered at his bitterness and, in spite of the 
 prejudice of an entire people, I have always had compassion 
 for Aaron Burr. The man who fought so gallantly at Quebec 
 and on other fields, whom Washington made one of his per- 
 sonal staff, who was Vice-President of the United States, and 
 for seven ballots tied Thomas Jefferson for the Presidency, had 
 certainly some redeeming traits. He was a duelist — so were 
 DeWitt Clinton, Collector Swartwout, Recorder 'Dickey' 
 Riker, the editor James Watson Webb, and scores of other 
 notable New Yorkers, who were accustomed on slight occa- 
 sions to step over to Weehawken and adjust their little differ- 
 ences 'in a gentlemanly fashion' with pistols. And finally, he 
 had a dream of building up a great empire in the Southwest — 
 such as Sam Houston afterwards realized at the expense of 
 Mexico. 
 
 "I find Burr, after his duel with Hamilton, received with 
 usual honors at Richmond and Washington, and made the sub- 
 ject of special personal attention by President Jefferson, Sec- 
 retary Gallatin and Mr. Madison ; but, at the same time, I find 
 his political and personal integrity doubted, and his financial 
 embarrassments become hopeless, and in this I see the be- 
 ginning of the end. It was a wreck, though a splendid one, 
 and I had pity always, where my uncle judged with excep- 
 tional severity.'' 
 
 Dutch Church 
 
 Apparently the first authentic record is the grant of 17 14 
 to build a new church edifice on the north shore. A baptismal 
 record of 1696 shows that a church organization existed as 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 105 
 
 early as that date, and the burying ground dates back to 1705, 
 or earlier. During the Revolution, the British destroyed the 
 church, and in 1785 it was resolved to build a new building of 
 brick. 
 
 A tablet on the front of the church reads as follows: 
 
 REFORMED PROTESTANT 
 DUTCH CHURCH 
 FOUNDED 1716 
 DESTROYED IN THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR 
 ERECTED ANEW 1786 
 REBUILT AND ENLARGED 1844 
 
 O. W. BUEL 
 
 FECIT 
 
 In 1802, the Rev. Peter I. Van Pelt began his ministry. He 
 is credited with enlarging and beautifying the church, and 
 with being responsible for the rebuilding of the Dutch Church 
 at Port Richmond. During the War of 1812, Mr. Van Pelt was 
 appointed chaplain to the militia stationed on Staten Island, 
 and later he was appointed chaplain of the Regular Army of the 
 Third Military District, in the Harbor of New York. 
 
 At this time a parochial school or ''Seminary of Learning," 
 commonly known as "Van Pelt's Seminary," was built on 
 ground adjoining the church. In this building Mr. Van Pelt 
 also conducted a Sunday School in the year 1812, which was 
 among the earliest of the organized Sunday Schools in the 
 United States. When Lafayette visited New York in 1824 
 Mr. Van Pelt delivered the address of welcome. 
 
 Those who have become used to the after-war style of 
 women's dress, and learned to gaze without a blink on the 
 passing throng, will be apt to indulge in a broad smile on com- 
 ing across an item in the old minutes of the Dutch Church, to 
 the effect that a certain deacon's wife was reprimanded for 
 holding her skirts too high while crossing the muddy street. 
 This in the days of no sidewalks or paved streets ! 
 
 On the other hand, the dearly beloved brethren of today 
 would stand aghast at the method pursued by Judge Tysen to 
 raise money for a new church building. It seems that he gath- 
 ered the members under his roof one evening and supplied 
 them with a particularly potent brand of applejack and, when 
 
io6 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 his visitors were mellowed into a proper frame of mind, the 
 subscription paper was passed around and amounts put down 
 by the jovial company that blanched many a cheek when the 
 full significance of the situation dawned with the morning after. 
 There was loud complaint and denial of liability, but the Judge 
 had the signatures, and held all to them with an impartiality 
 that brought him more curses than compliments. These items, 
 we are assured, are writ down in the church records. 
 
 Progress Hall 
 
 Jaques House, Harrison House, Progress Hall, on Rich- 
 mond Avenue, nearly opposite Harrison Street, was built by 
 Isaac Jaques, son of a Staten Islander, and a New York 
 merchant of considerable prominence. 
 
 In 1853, Dr. John T. Harrison was living here. Charles 
 Anthon, who was collecting material for a history of Staten 
 Island, interviewed the Doctor who, among others, spoke of 
 Cornelius Mersereau, who was born in this house, though most 
 of his life was lived in Mariners' Harbor. Concerning Mer- 
 sereau, he said: "He deserves to have his name recorded for 
 his patriotism and sufferings. If there ever was a patriot, 
 Cornelius Mersereau was the one. During the Revolution he 
 more than once swam the Staten Island sound for the pur- 
 pose of carrying intelligence. He was one of the most honest, 
 faithful and patriotic of men. During the occupation of Staten 
 Island by the British he remained on the Island, though they 
 turned him out of his property and occupied it themselves, 
 causing him great loss." 
 
 His tombstone, now standing in the churchyard of the Re- 
 formed Dutch Church in Port Richmond, reads as follows: 
 
 IN 
 
 MEMORY OF 
 CORNELIUS MERSEREAU 
 WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE JULY 
 27TH 1814: AGED 75 YEARS 
 
 My flesh shall slumber in the ground 
 Till the last trumpet's joyful sound, 
 Then burst the chains in sweet surprise 
 And in my Savior's Image rise. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 107 
 
 Alfred DeGroot has stated that Commodore Vanderbilt was 
 born in this house. 
 
 Faber House 
 
 About 1830, more or less, Grandmother Windsor lived in 
 the Faber house, which stood on the bank of the river in Port 
 Richmond. She was a clergyman's daughter and had married 
 the son of a wealthy English family, who had been sent across 
 the waters to see America, and who immediately succumbed 
 to the young lady's charms. For such a breach of custon. his 
 family promptly disinherited him, and he was thrown on his 
 own resources. The young family came to reside in the Faber 
 house. In those days houses were few and far between. In 
 fact, it is said, there were but three in this locality, and when 
 the ferryboat from New York neared the Port Richmond land- 
 ing, its bell would be rung when opposite any house for which 
 it was carrying passengers. Thus those on shore, being noti- 
 fied, would drive down to the dock for the visitors. 
 
 An Exchange of Wives 
 
 [From Richmond County Gazette, October 17, 1866.] 
 
 Toward the close of the year 1689, the people of Staten Is- 
 land became alarmed for their own safety, for it was rumored 
 that the Papists on the Island intended to cut the throats of 
 all the Protestants, and then to attack the City of New York. 
 
 During the continuance of the alarm some of the people 
 concealed themselves in the woods during the night, and others 
 resorted to their boats for safety during the hours of darkness. 
 On one of these nights a ludicrous mistake was made by two 
 men residing on the North Shore of the Island, which was the 
 subject of much amusement after the alarm had subsided. 
 These men were neighbors ; that is to say, they dwelt about 
 a mile from each other, which at that period constituted them 
 neighbors. The one was a Frenchman named Fontaine, who 
 was an irritable, passionate and jealous man; the other was a 
 descendant of one of the original Dutch settlers, whose name 
 was Blum: he was a sedate, phlegmatic individual, not easily 
 excited, and nothing but the fear of having his trachea sev- 
 ered could have induced him to abandon the comforts of his 
 bed on the night alluded to. These men, like the most of those 
 
io8 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 who lived near the shores of the Island, kept their boats for 
 the purpose of fishing occasionally, when more important du- 
 ties did not demand their attention, and it so happened that 
 their boats were of the same size and color, so that it was not 
 easy to distinguish them in the dark. 
 
 Another circumstance which contributed toward the blun- 
 der was that each had a wife and one child. Without previous 
 agreement, these men, with their families, met on the shore 
 for the purpose of spending the night in their boats on the 
 water. As they were about to push off, one of the women 
 suggested that as it was likely to be a cold night on the water, 
 being in the month of September, some additional covering 
 might be necessary before morning. Acting on this suggestion, 
 each man returned to his dwelling house to procure the re- 
 quired articles, and during their absence one of the boats was 
 drifted from the shore by the tide, but was brought back again 
 by the woman in it, but on the other side of the other boat. 
 
 The two men on their return met at some distance from 
 the shore and pursued their way in company through the paths 
 in the wood, when suddenly becoming alarmed at some unusual 
 noise they heard, they hurried onward and, as they reached 
 their boats and cast their clothing in they cautioned the women 
 to arrange themselves as soon as possible and keep perfect si- 
 lence. Stopping a few minutes to listen for further signs of 
 danger, they stepped into the boats and pushed off from the 
 shore. 
 
 Each woman, with her child in her arms, had bestowed 
 herself as comfortably as she could in the stern, while the men 
 were pulling at a little distance from each other across to the 
 Jersey shore. As they had not arranged to spend the night 11 
 each other's vicinity, the Frenchman kept along the Jersey 
 shore, intending to enter one of the creeks in the Bergen 
 meadows, while the Dutchman turned westward for the en- 
 trance into Newark Bay. As the night was very dark and tne 
 distance which they had to row was considerable, by the tim^ 
 they had reached their respective destinations, the women and 
 children were fast asleep and were suffered to remain undis- 
 turbed. 
 
 Blum had turned the point into the bay and had moored 
 his boat under the limbs of a tree which hung over the watei 
 and, wraoped in his overcoat, sat in the bow of the boat aozing 
 the night away. Toward morning, the woman in the stern 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 109 
 
 raised her head, and inquired in a subdued tone how near day- 
 light it was. She spoke in French, a language which Blum 
 was ignorant of, and being not quite wide-awake himself, sup- 
 posed he had not quite understood what his wife had said. 
 Accordingly he exclaimed "Hey?" The woman repeated her 
 question. Alarmed beyond measure at hearing a voice not 
 familiar to him, he sprang to his feet and exclaimed, "Ter 
 Tuyfel! but who be you?" 
 
 The woman, in her turn, hearing the voice of a man she 
 did not recognize, became alarmed and began to shriek, and 
 it was fortunate for poor Blum that neighbors were so few and 
 distant as to be out of hearing. There they stood, one in each 
 end of the boat, ready to spring into the water and wade ashore, 
 and each afraid of the other. The Dutchman was perfectly be- 
 wildered ; he was positive that he had placed his wife and 
 child in the stern of his boat the previous evening, but where 
 was she now, and who was the strange woman whom he had 
 been watching over and protecting all the night long? In the 
 meanwhile the woman occasionally uttered a few words in 
 French, and once the name of Fontaine. Suddenly it flashed 
 upon the Dutchman that he and the Frenchman had not only 
 exchanged boats, but cargoes also, and with the aid of a little 
 broken French and English on her part, and a little broken 
 Dutch and English on his part, they began to understand each 
 other. "Thunder and lightning!!" he exclaimed, "I see 
 through it all, now; I got into the Frenchman's boat last night 
 and he got into mine. I ran away with his wife and child, and 
 he ran away with mine." 
 
 The discovery of the mistake occasioned much amusement 
 for the man, but the poor woman, who knew her husband's 
 disposition thoroughly, was not to be appeased ; she expressed 
 a good deal of apprehension for the consequence when she and 
 her husband should meet again. 
 
 The irritable and jealous Frenchman had also discovered 
 the mistake before daylight, but instead of becoming alarmed, 
 he became furious and threatened to pitch the woman and her 
 child into the creek, but as she was a Dutchwoman of pretty 
 good proportions, and one likely to be able to defend herself, 
 he concluded finally that the issue of a struggle for a bath in 
 the muddy waters of the creek was somewhat dubious, and 
 therefore concluded that the most judicious way was to place 
 her where he had taken her from. Accordingly, just as the 
 
no 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 day began to break, he landed her on the shore of Staten Is- 
 land, and the woman and her child departed for their home. 
 The Frenchman did not wait long after he had discharged his 
 passengers before he saw the other boat approaching. Tne 
 poor woman, as soon as she saw her husband pacing the shore 
 with his short, quick step, knew that a storm was at hand, and 
 no sooner had she placed her foot upon the land, than her hus- 
 band caught her by the arm, gesticulating and vociferating 
 furiously in French, and', as Blum supposed, was about tj 
 strike her; so, stepping in between them he endeavored to 
 pacify the angry man, by showing him that the woman had not 
 made the mistake, and that they, the men, were responsible 
 for it, if there was any responsibility about the matter; and 
 that if he abused the woman for it, he would knock him down. 
 This ended the matter on the shore, but it afforded a deal of 
 amusement to the neighborhood for a long time after. 
 
 This story is evidently based on historical fact as we read 
 in "The Documentary History of the State of New York," by 
 E. B. O'Callaghan, M.D., vol. 2, 1850, as follows: 
 
 Affidavit Against Col. Bayard & Certain Parties on Staten 
 
 Island. 
 
 "New York Septem. 25, 1689. 
 "A declaration of Barthomew Le Roux 
 
 "First — That we had a relation in this City, that the Papist 
 upon Station Island did threaten to cut the inhabitants throats 
 & that the People had left their Plantations & were run- 
 ning the woods, & some gone with their familys in their boats 
 and lay upon the river & further they threatened to come and 
 burn this City & that Mr Dela Prearie had arms in his house 
 for fifty men" 
 
 "The Answer from Col. Bayard to the Company As to the 
 matter of Staten Island, it was false. . . . " 
 
 To see how conditions were they went to Staten Is'd & the 
 affidavit continues as follows: 
 
 "And so accordingly we went the next Morning to Staten 
 Island where the first news we had was, that they were afraid 
 to Lay in their beds for fear of the Papists & that they heard 
 that Mr De la Prearie's house there were arms for a hundred 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 in 
 
 men, we Spoke to Mr. Vincent a frenchman, that had left his 
 house & had taken his family in his boat & went and lay upon 
 the river for fear of these relations, Mr Mark told us that about 
 eighteen or Nineteen Persons had run from their houses about 
 the Place where he lived & lay in the woods through these 
 fears — 
 
 "The above relation I am ready to depose upon my Oath as 
 witness my hand" 
 
 Signed Bartho: Le Roux 
 Peter White 
 
 before Jacob Leisler 
 
 The Oystermen of Staten Island 
 
 An old newspaper of 1857, * n an article on the North Shore, 
 states that "Port Richmond is dear to the lovers of oysters, and 
 these delicious bivalves, the delight of city epicures, have 
 made fortunes for many of the dealers." Because of the fresh 
 waters of the Passaic and the Hackensack rivers the Mariners' 
 Harbor shore was the best known place for the floating and 
 freshening of oysters, and the advantages of that custom 
 caused Mariners' Harbor to become a fisherman's village and 
 a town of prosperity. 
 
 Everyone has heard of the oystermen of Port Richmond 
 and Mariners' Harbor, and before beginning a search it did not 
 seem a difficult prospect, but every one of those who have 
 made oyster history along the North Shore has taken the long 
 trip, and among their descendants few can be found whose 
 memory is helpful, except in two instances, those of Calvin D. 
 Van Name and Azel F. Merrill. 
 
 The Troubles of the Oysterman 
 
 The old oysterman, when a success, combined all the ele- 
 ments with which the legendary hero is usually endowed. He 
 must be a first-class seaman with the "dogged as does it" ele- 
 ment strong within him. Fighting Father Neptune from the 
 deck of a small, two-masted schooner when the old gentleman 
 is on the rampage takes a combination of dare-devil, sound 
 judgment and stick-ativeness that is only given to the few. On 
 top of that, he must be ready at all times to take a gambler's 
 
112 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 chance, must be able to see his fortune swept away almost in 
 an instant, and come back with a stiff upper lip. 
 
 Oyster planting is one of the greatest gambles in the world. 
 All a man had, his entire fortune, lay on the bottom, say of 
 Princes Bay, or was contained within the hull of a two-masted 
 schooner, pounding its way up the coast from Virginia. More 
 things can happen to an oyster bed than the landlubber can 
 conceive. The seed oyster is a very delicate young thing; at 
 first its shell is as thin as paper and as brittle as character ; al- 
 ways the fish are snooping around for broken shells. Then 
 there are the starfish in their millions; they clamp themselves 
 around the shell and wait until the poor thing opens, which it 
 must do, whereupon the oyster forsakes its home to abide with 
 the starfish. Next comes the drumfish, whose strong jaws 
 and sharp teeth reduce the shells of the young oyster to splin- 
 ters, while the oyster itself goes to increase the strength of 
 those very jaws that have proved its own undoing. Then 
 there is the oyster drill, one of the worst enemies of small 
 oysters and other bivalves ; it rasps a small round hole through 
 the shell and proceeds to suck out the contents at leisure. The 
 boring sponge comes next in the procession and often com- 
 pletely honeycombs an oyster shell, making hundreds of gal- 
 leries and holes, thus destroying its rightful owner. 
 
 Now, if there are any oysters left, Nature sends a storm 
 which, with sand or mud, or both, covers up the beds and 
 smothers the oysters. Then there is the human pirate who 
 tongs other people's oysters after dark. If caught, he was 
 promptly shot, just like his western brother, the horse thief; 
 but catching him was the difficult thing, as he could hear the 
 approaching boat long before he could be seen, and many a 
 boatload of stolen oysters found its way to the New York 
 market. All of which makes one wonder — "why plant oys- 
 ters?" However, the oysterman figures that if he has one 
 successful season in three he will be in a position to lay up for 
 himself riches where moth and rust corrupt and thieves break 
 through and steal. 
 
 But that is not all. Let us now look at the perils of the 
 deep: For this purpose we would call attention to the fate 
 that befell Captain William Henry Van Name. The Captain 
 sailed out of New York Bay, bound for a load of Virginia seed 
 oysters, with the cash on board to pay for them. He made 
 good weather all the way down, secured his load and started 
 
Capt. David Van Name House, 2784 Richmond Terrace, 1924. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 113 
 
 for home. Every cent he owned was in that schooner. He left 
 nothing undone that a good sailor should do, but charts in 
 those days were not what they are now, and those that Captain 
 William Henry must depend on did not go into detail quite as 
 minutely as was good for the mariner. As a result, on a par- 
 ticularly bright, calm Sunday morning, the schooner piled up 
 on Brigantine Shoals, and there she lay hard and fast. There 
 was nothing to do but wait in the hope that the tide would 
 float her, but she had plowed her way too deep into the sand 
 and the Captain, with a grim face, ordered out the shovels, and 
 after a few hours' hard work his entire fortune was tossed over- 
 board, for the load must go in order to lighten the schooner. 
 Did the Captain throw up his hands in despair? Not he; he 
 merely "blessed his eyes in sailor wise," and once the schooner 
 was in deep water, made all sail for New York where his credit 
 was good. 
 
 The Housmans 
 
 Beginning with Nicholas Avenue, the way was strewn with 
 the old homes of the oystermen : Captain Dave Decker or 
 Uncle John Post, with a Housman and a Cubberly or a Gar- 
 rett, a Crittenden, Bush, Barkalow and many more, the familiar 
 spirits of two or more generations ago, but who are now mere 
 names, and their dwelling places empty shells or inhabited by 
 those who knew them not. 
 
 Just beyond Nicholas Avenue, No. 2328 Richmond Terrace, 
 stands the former fine old home of Israel D. Johnson, with its 
 tall, fluted columns. Mr. Johnson throve by trade; his ship 
 chandlery stood almost opposite on the water side and above 
 it was a public hall, known as Huguenot Hall. Immediately 
 adjoining was the principal ways where the oystermen hauled 
 out to make sure that everything was shipshape from truck to 
 keel. Every block was examined and scraped, every part of 
 the standing rigging tested, and when the oysterman sailed 
 out of New York Bay he knew he was fit to meet the perils of 
 the deep. 
 
 Passing the oil tanks, we come to the one time home of 
 Captain George Housman, No. 2380 Richmond Terrace, on 
 the east corner of John Street, another dwelling whose tall 
 columns proclaim it to have been the home of a "rich oys- 
 terman." 
 
 On the opposite or west corner of John Street formerly 
 
II 4 
 
 stood the modest little stone homestead of the Housman fam- 
 ily, which was destroyed some years since. There is hanging 
 on the wall of the Perine House a handsome dress sword which 
 was found tucked away among the rafters of this old house. 
 Its history is not known, but the nicked blade rather suggests 
 that the D'Artagnan who wore it was something of a blade 
 himself. 
 
 Captain John J. Housman, of a generation that has passed, 
 was rough, rude, ungrammatical, profane and strong of in- 
 vective, but withal a man of character. Outspoken and fearless 
 to a degree, he was a sterling good citizen whose word was as 
 good as his bond. He was of the best class of oystermen. He 
 was extremely savage in his attacks on the pro-slavery element, 
 being one of the blackest of Black Republicans. When the 
 Union Army set out to reach Richmond, Va., by way of the 
 James River, Mariners' Harbor furnished many skilled pilots 
 who knew every foot of the way, selected from its oyster fleet 
 by Capt. John J. Housman. 
 
 Another Housman of a still earlier generation was a Cap- 
 tain Jacob. He was a deep-sea skipper who traded up and 
 down the coast, and they do say that he did not refuse to do a 
 little wrecking when such came to his hand. There are strange 
 tales along the Florida Keys, which in those days were wild and 
 secluded, concerning the Captain, whose body lies buried in 
 the sands of Indian Key, one of the lonely isles of the coral 
 reef. There are also whispered stories at the Staten Island end 
 of mysterious night arrivals of his vessel, hurried unloadings 
 and getting away before dawn. Tales vary as to how he met 
 his death, but none of them agree with his tombstone. The 
 more generally accepted theory among the Palm Islands is that 
 he was murdered by his crew. 
 
 Jacob Housman's tombstone reads : 
 "Here lyeth the body of Capt. Jacob Housman Formerly of 
 Staten Island State of New York. Proprietor of this 
 Island who died by accident May ist 1841 
 , aged 41 yrs., 11 months. 
 
 "To his friends he was sincere, to his enemies he was 
 kind, to all men faithful. 
 "This monument is erected by his most disconsolate though 
 affectionate wife Elizabeth Ann Housman 
 "Sic transit Gloria Mundi." 
 
Capt. Garrett Post, 3260 Richmond Terrace, 1924. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 115 
 
 When the above was copied by Ralph M. Munroe the stone 
 was lying on the beach of Indian Key, on the easterly side; 
 probably just where it was skidded from the vessel from which 
 it was landed. 
 
 David Decker to Dr. Satterthwait 
 
 At No. 2648 Richmond Terrace, east corner of Wright 
 Street, formerly stood a tall, frame house with overhanging 
 eaves, the home of old David Decker, that good old soul, who 
 did not hesitate to proclaim to all who passed, by means of 
 Biblical exhortations lettered large over his gate and door, 
 his faith in a future life. The chief of these, which was illu- 
 minated at night, read: "No one goes to Hell except through 
 his own agency." 
 
 No. 2672 Richmond Terrace, on the west corner of Wright 
 Street, another of the tall columned dwellings, is thought to 
 have been an old Decker home. It was purchased many years 
 ago by Captain Garrett P. Wright for one of his children. 
 
 As we pass Simonson Avenue we come to the site of the 
 Lake-Croak house, whose walls were taken down in 1920. The 
 material, which included old Dutch brick, was used for a re- 
 taining wall along the front of the property. The origin and 
 history of this old house are lost. Joseph Lake, "a man of the 
 18th Century," is the first known owner. Presumably he sold 
 to one Croak about 1850, as it is one of the earliest recollec- 
 tions of Uncle John Croak. The farm included the property 
 now traversed by Wright, Lake and Simonson Avenues, and 
 extended back from the water to the Old Place Road. 
 
 No. 2746 Richmond Terrace, between Simonson and Van 
 Name Avenues, a long, red, frame dwelling with a box-bor- 
 dered path from the gate to the front door, a comfortable, 
 homey looking place, was formerly the home of Dr. Satter- 
 thwaite, a surgeon in the Union Army during the Civil War. 
 
 Captain David Van Name 
 
 No. 2784 Richmond Terrace, west corner of Van Name 
 Avenue, stands the former home of Captain David Van Name, 
 one of the old Vikings of the oyster trade. The Captain, born 
 in 1794, was one of the first two men to plant oysters in Ameri- 
 can waters. He began at an early age to plant and develop the 
 oyster grounds in this vicinity, and by 181 7 had entered the 
 
n6 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 business as a dealer. He had the usual ups and downs of the 
 trade, stormy winds might blow and hard luck give him a 
 crack now and then, but he was made of the right stuff and, 
 deserving much, received much. 
 
 He bought this farm, a beautiful site from which he could 
 see his own boats come up the Kill, and built the house in the 
 fifties. It was built by days' work and of the best material to 
 be found ; in fact, in the same thorough manner he did every- 
 thing. Captain David belonged to that choice and small com- 
 pany whose word is as good as its bond. 
 
 Having in mind that money is a trust to be administered 
 wisely for the benefit of the community, he erected a Baptist 
 church in Mariners' Harbor. Curiously enough the bell of this 
 church tolled for the first time at the Captain's own funeral, 
 in 1857. 
 
 The Captain left five sons. All became prominent as oys- 
 ter planters, while as citizens they continued to keep the family 
 name at a premium. 
 
 Captain Garrett P. Wright and 
 the Brothers Thompson 
 
 No. 2814 Richmond Terrace, east of Van Pelt Avenue, a 
 building stands whose tall columns are marred by a one-story 
 shack which arises from the sidewalk and appears to house 
 the Christian Church, while the main building bears the name 
 "The Colonial." This was built by Captain Garrett P. Wright 
 some sixty or more years ago, one of the rich oystermen. In 
 its day it was one of the show places of the Shore Road. 
 
 Nos. 2848 and 2852 Richmond Terrace, just west of Van 
 Pelt Avenue, were the homes of two brothers, George and John 
 Thompson, both in the oyster business. 
 
 The Thompson brothers were old Staten Islanders. To 
 them, says Mattie De Hart, belongs the honor of inventing the 
 oyster float "that we drank oysters on." "Drinking" oysters 
 has to the uninitiated a mysterious sound, but it is a natural 
 process whereby the oyster is freshened and the color of the 
 meat whitened by bringing the oysters from their natural 
 habitat in salt water, and leaving them for a period in the 
 brackish water of these parts, where the fresh water of the 
 Passaic and Hackensack rivers mingles with the salt tide. An 
 oyster will close his shell tight if placed in fresh water and die 
 
Oyster-lay Boat, or Float. Shore near Billopp House. 
 September, 1924. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 117 
 
 rather than open it, but when placed in brackish water it gladly 
 "drinks" it, and in the process improves its flavor, looks and 
 plumpness. 
 
 Before the day of the Thompsons it was the custom to 
 dump oysters on the bottom here, and when the oystermen 
 came to "tong" them up again, it was a laborious process in 
 which a percentage was lost. It occurred to these oystermen 
 that a submerged float on which oysters could be spread would 
 save trouble and loss, and now oyster floats are known wher- 
 ever the oyster is gathered for market. This occurred some 
 sixty or seventy years ago, when DeHart was a boy. Several 
 of these old floats were lying on the beach at Tottenville as late 
 as May, 1924. 
 
 Barnes, Post, Lockman, Van Name, Bush 
 
 At No. 2876 Richmond Terrace, between Van Pelt and De 
 Hart Avenues, stands a noticeable large, square brick house 
 with stuccoed front, a style different from any other house 
 along the entire North Shore. This was built by Stephen D. 
 Barnes during the palmy days of the oyster trade. The main 
 room has an elaborately carved marble mantel, which the pres- 
 ent owner states cost $500. Of its kind, it is a beautiful piece 
 of work. The inside window shutters slide between the walls, 
 and everywhere is ample evidence that Captain Barnes was a 
 rich oysterman. 
 
 No. 2890 Richmond Terrace, one door east of Central Ave- 
 nue, was the former home of Captain Garret Post. 
 
 No. 3060 Richmond Terrace was the dwelling place of John 
 Lockman, better known to his friends and neighbors as "Daddy 
 Lockman." His Dutch ancestors, we are informed, spelled the 
 name Lorckman. 
 
 No. 31 14 Richmond Terrace. Here abode Uncle Charlie 
 Van Name, who kept a grocery at the foot of Bay Avenue. 
 His memory lingers among the neighbors in a way to make 
 one feel that he was something more to those among whom he 
 dwelt than a mere purveyor of sugar and flour. 
 
 The second house west of Mersereau Avenue was the dwell- 
 ing of Captain Jake Bush. Just after the Civil War broke out, 
 Captain Bush left Virginia with a load of oysters. For some 
 reason he ran into Chincoteague inlet, and was there boarded 
 by the Rebels, who took the Captain's son on shore and sent 
 
n8 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 him to Richmond, where he was confined in Libby Prison and 
 died from the hardships to which he was exposed. This so 
 preyed on the old father's mind that he finally committed 
 suicide. 
 
 More Old Salts, Including Tom Cropper 
 
 The third house west of Mersereau Avenue was that of 
 Captain Dan Cubberly, a deep-sea skipper, who sailed the 
 schooner William Van Name. 
 
 Other old skippers of the vicinity were Captain John Crit- 
 tenden, who sailed the schooner Barnet Jones, which he was 
 compelled to abandon at sea, and later sailed the schooner 
 William Young; Captain Stephen B. Wood, who sailed the 
 schooner Samuel Wood; Captain James Pearsall, who sailed 
 the schooner William McGee, which was lost on Brigantine 
 Shoals ; Captain Abe Gibson, who sailed the schooner Jacob I. 
 Housman; and many others. 
 
 There were forty or fifty oyster boats which left here every 
 fall for Virginia. 
 
 Tom Cropper who sailed the schooner William DePew, 
 and William Cropper who sailed the schooner Garrett P. 
 Wright, were two more of the old-time skippers. The former 
 was once bringing the DePew out of York river, loaded as 
 deep as she could swim, and running before the wind under a 
 two-reefed foresail ; the yawl boat had been taken inboard and 
 lashed on deck in anticipation of heavy weather. A sailor was 
 standing on the rail throwing the lead, and as they got into 
 rough water the skipper warned him to get down on deck, but 
 he, being in a mood for showing off, stayed where he was until 
 a cross sea tripped the schooner, and the lurch threw him over- 
 board. He hung on to the leadline for a brief space, but the 
 vessel was going so fast that it almost pulled him out of the 
 water, and he had to let go, but, being a swimmer, he merely 
 floated on the surface, waiting for help. In the meantime the 
 Captain got the schooner up into the wind, ran up the jib and 
 beat back to windward of the man, put the yawl overside and 
 picked up the sailor. The very first remark the latter made 
 on reaching the schooner, was: "Did you save my cap? 
 There were two good cigars in it." Captain Tom was so mad 
 at the man's lack of appreciation of the trouble he had caused 
 that he almost threw him back into the water, and the words 
 he said took the sailor's mind entirely off his lost cigars. 
 
Example of Dutch Architecture. 3373 Richmond Terrace, 1913. 
 
 Dutch Oven House, 
 
 3581 Richmond Terrace, 1922. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 119 
 
 Others of Those Who Went 
 
 Down to the Sea in Schooners 
 
 On Post Lane, east side, stands the former home of Captain 
 Peter Post, a one-time pilot of note. These old pilots knew 
 every inch of the bottom from Sandy Hook to Cape Henry. 
 They knew it so well that they could tell just where they were 
 by the nature of the material brought up on the sounding lead. 
 These leads have a hole in which lard is put, and this catches 
 enough of the sand or mud to show the character of that part 
 of the ocean floor over which they have passed. They knew 
 little of the science of navigation, and ran their schooners by 
 rule of thumb, but were abundantly supplied with hard, com- 
 mon sense, backed by experience, and seldom made a slip. 
 
 No. 3132, between Mersereau and Grand View Avenues, 
 Captain Abe Corson, who ran oysters from York River, Va., up 
 to the oyster market; not a regular oysterman, though a sea- 
 faring man. 
 
 No. 3202, old Uncle Michael Van Name, a waterman at one 
 time, but mostly a farmer, lived. 
 
 No. 3260, east corner Arlington Avenue, was the house of 
 Captain Garrett Post, an oysterman thirty-five or more years 
 ago. The Captain kept the pound, and according to a friendly 
 gentleman with whom we became acquainted as we journeyed, 
 "Us boys used to drive the stray cows to him and get fifty 
 cents each." 
 
 No. 3294 — Captain Mose DeHart, a Virginia oysterman. 
 
 No. 3308 — Captain John Decker, a Virginia oysterman; al- 
 so an oyster planter in Princes Bay. 
 
 No. 3332 — Captain Edward DeHart, a Virginia oysterman, 
 a brother of Mose DeHart. 
 
 No. 3364 — Captain David M. Decker, a Virginia oysterman. 
 
 These and others would run down to Virginia in the fall, 
 and locating on some river, they bought up and prepared the 
 oysters which they sold to others, who did the transporting. 
 These were known as "natural" oysters, and under the name 
 of "Virginia" oysters were regarded in the New York market 
 as a luxury. They were not cultivated, as is often done in the 
 north, but grew wild, so to speak, and were free to any who 
 wished to gather them. 
 
 No. 3373, on the waterside, formerly the dwelling of Uncle 
 
120 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 John DeHart, is the old DeHart homestead. It is said to be 
 200 years old. It is a simple frame house with a curious small 
 projection built along its entire front. This is certainly not 
 ornamental, and its use is not evident to the casual observer. 
 "They tell me," says Mattie DeHart, "that our people landed in 
 New York in 1625, and came to Staten Island in 1640." 
 
 No. 3410, west corner Holland Avenue, is commonly called 
 the DeHart house. It was built by a grand-uncle of Mattie 
 DeHart. 
 
 Deviled Tongue 
 
 The older inhabitants of Mariners' Harbor tell a story 
 which suggests that deviled tongue may have originated on 
 Staten Island. Its heroine is one Suky Rowland, whose lively 
 imagination and nimble tongue furnished much scandalous 
 argument in the neighborhood. In other words, the lady's spe- 
 cialty was disseminating information of a class that Mr. 
 Shakespeare says lives after us. 
 
 She touched on high and low with equal impartiality until 
 the entire region tired of her industrious propaganda, and 
 there was much talk of doing something that would take the 
 edge off Suky's tongue. But, according to tradition, before any 
 working plan could be formulated the greatest mischief maker 
 of all times, evidently fearing lest he would lose his standing 
 in the community, undertook to curb friend Suky. 
 
 As Suky told it, the incident happened as she stepped off 
 the bridge that carried Richmond Terrace over DeHart brook. 
 At this moment the Devil popped out from nowhere, and firmly 
 grasped our gossip by her unruly member. Giving it a yank 
 that should have made it looser than ever, he uttered a warning 
 that one more scandalous story would bring him again, and 
 that the consequences would be both serious and lasting. And 
 they do say that ever after Suky was a model little citizen. 
 
 This tale was Harbor property when Mattie DeHart was 
 a boy, seventy or more years ago, and even then it had been 
 rolling down the generations for no one knew how long. 
 
 Matthias DeHart on Flies, Oysters and the 
 Board of Health 
 
 Mattie DeHart, a lifelong resident of Mariners' Harbor, was 
 something of a character. He believed in flies, which he never 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 121 
 
 swatted, and he did not believe in the Board of Health. The 
 latter ruined the oyster business whereby Mr. DeHart gained 
 his livelihood and something more. What though the micro- 
 scope does show typhoid germs on oysters taken from these 
 waters, "aren't we all covered with bugs?" says Mr. DeHart. 
 Put a microscope on any of us, and learn the truth. "An oyster 
 is one of the most particular things in the world; he won't 
 drink anything that is nasty." We again quote Mr. DeHart. 
 
 As for flies, his reasons were equally to the point. In the 
 days when the Millikens were overlords of this region, they 
 filled in their waterfront with garbage. When, later, the pres- 
 ent owners dug into this mess for building purposes, it proved 
 so overripe that even Mr. DeHart's dinner sat but lightly in the 
 saddle, in a manner of speaking. Now there came a plague of 
 flies upon the land such as never was since the days of Pharaoh. 
 So numerous were they that Mr. DeHart averred it was im- 
 possible to distinguish between man and woman twenty feet 
 away. Those flies were sent for a purpose, said he, none other 
 than to rout out that nest of uncleanness. 
 
 The Gentle Hessian 
 
 In the center of what is now South Avenue, and near the 
 water, formerly stood a Van Name house; the old well is still 
 in existence, back of Shotwell's store or house. One of this 
 family was the grandmother of Mattie DeHart. She told him 
 how the British and Hessians, when intending a raid on New 
 Jersey, came along this shore and, gathering up the young 
 men, would compel them to ferry the troops across to the main- 
 land. The boys were naturally averse to this, but the invaders 
 had a way of prodding them with their bayonets and otherwise 
 inducing compliance that was effective if not convincing. The 
 boys were sometimes severely hurt. 
 
 Downey Shipbuilding Plant 
 and Mr. Bowman 
 
 The plot now occupied by the Downey Shipbuilding plant 
 has something of interest for those who would know Mariners' 
 Harbor. 
 
 The last old stone house along this road is set in the high 
 wooden fence here. This was a Post homestead, originally a 
 DeHart farm. During the Revolution this was a favorite 
 
122 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 camping ground for the Hessians when they were intent on a 
 raiding expedition in Jersey. The officers at such times used 
 the farmhouse as headquarters. At times one of these was 
 Major Andre, who seems to have made an effort to be agreeable 
 to the inhabitants. It is common tradition thit he fraternized 
 with the boys of the neighborhood. Matthias DeHart has 
 stated that his great-great-uncle, also named Matthias, was 
 then a boy of fifteen or sixteen years of age. He seems to have 
 talked much to his daughter of the pleasant impression Andre 
 made, and she in turn transmitted this to the Matthias DeHart 
 who was born November 14, 1845, and died July 11, 1921. 
 
 About thirty-five years ago this old stone house was such 
 a memorable object of rural beauty that those who knew it 
 then still recall its enchantments. Then the building was al- 
 most covered with vines that even encircled the old chimney 
 and made of it as fit a place for love in a cottage as was to be 
 found. 
 
 Some sixty years ago this spot presented quite a different 
 scene to that which Mr. Downey offers us of today. Then 
 George Bowman, a wealthy New York lawyer, lived here in 
 grand style, with everything that makes a cultivated, rich 
 man's home attractive, including a few beautiful daughters. It 
 was somewhere to go for the rest of the North Shore when 
 it was all dressed up. 
 
 In those days the roadbed from Port Richmond through 
 Mariners' Harbor was made of oyster shells, than which noth- 
 ing was better for driving. Thus, between Mr. Bowman, his eats 
 and his daughters, and the wonderful stretch of fine road, it 
 not infrequently looked on pleasant afternoons as though all 
 New Brighton was taking the air in these parts. 
 
 In the course of time Mr. Bowman, having in mind to in- 
 crease his spending capacity, proceeded to lay out his place so 
 that those who were seeking home sites might share his beau- 
 tiful outlook. But the plan did not work out for some reason, 
 and instead of increasing his wealth he seems to have become 
 involved to such an extent that he lost even that he had. 
 When old and poor, a mortgage on his property was foreclosed, 
 and he and his family were turned out to meet a world that had 
 no further use for them. 
 
 Mr. Van Name recalls that some fifty years ago the last 
 flock of wild pigeons he ever saw was fluttering among the 
 trees of this place. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 123 
 
 Striking Oil at Mariners* Harbor 
 
 Strange as it may seem, oil has been discovered on the farm 
 of Capt. Moses Van Name at Mariners' Harbor. One day last 
 week a little boy, who was playing on a wet portion of the 
 grounds, found a greasy substance adhering to his hands after 
 placing them in a stream which was oozing from the grounds. 
 Being unable to divest them of the unpleasant odor of kero- 
 sene, he went home and showed them to his father, and he 
 examined the spot indicated by the boy and came to the con- 
 clusion that the little chap had "struck ile." Some of the liquid 
 was subsequently scooped up and taken to some skillful per- 
 son in the city for analysis and examination, and he pro- 
 nounced it an excellent quality of oil. Today persons are ex- 
 pected from the city with the necessary tools to commence 
 boring a well, and it is confidently expected that an abundant 
 supply of oil will in a short time be pumped up. Since the dis- 
 covery of the oil the farm is said to have become worth over 
 two hundred thousand dollars. If the operation succeeds, other 
 wells will be sunk in the vicinity. — [Richmond County Ga 
 zette, March 15, 1865. 
 
 The Moses Van Name farm extended back from the waters 
 of Newark Bay to the rear of the lots on Old Place Road, and 
 included what are now Andros and Mersereau Avenues. 
 
 Son-in-law Cornelius Mersereau resided on the tract. In 
 the rear of his dwelling and some 400 feet from the road lay 
 a hollow in which all the surplus rainwater of its immediate 
 vicinity stagnated. It was on the surface of this pond that the 
 discovery of oil was made. 
 
 Conceive, now, a quiet fishing village far removed from the 
 wicked world. Nothing could be more lacking in excitement 
 than life in such a place before the telephone, the automobile 
 and the trolley came to its aid. All by itself, with only its own 
 little scandals to talk about, and all of these talked threadbare ; 
 with few books and only an occasional weekly newspaper to 
 keep it in contact with the world, anything that would relieve 
 the dreary monotony was eagerly welcomed. 
 
 Such was Mariners' Harbor. Fish and oysters were its 
 daily portion, and unless someone grew an ear of corn with an 
 even number of rows around its cob, or an uneven (we are 
 not sure which is the extraordinary departure from corn-cob 
 custom), there was little to do or think about except to eat, 
 sleep and go oystering (not roystering). 
 
I2 4 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 One can imagine then the grand and glorious thrill that 
 came to Mariners' Harbor when, early one morning, as on the 
 wings of the wind, the news flew from door to door and from 
 lip to lip, that oil had been discovered on the Moses Van Name 
 farm. Breakfast tables were forsaken; every small boy whose 
 mother would let him, was soon scudding under bare poles, or, 
 more literally, on them, for the exciting spot. Our authority 
 was one of these; and parents were not long in following in 
 the footsteps of their children. 
 
 Obviously there was oil on the face of the waters ; everyone 
 both great and small had a finger in the pool, and was soon 
 possessed of ocular and olfactory evidence to that effect, and, 
 more for the wonder, sufficient oil had been skimmed from the 
 surface to fill a pail. If there was so much oil, there must be 
 more where this came from. Every man, woman and child was 
 busy on theories or otherwise, according to temperament; some 
 flirting with the green-eyed goddess, some figuring out how 
 the children of Uncle Moses had become rich over night, and 
 some, who owned adjoining farms, doing a few mathematics 
 on their own account. 
 
 Never was there such wild excitement in Mariners' Harbor. 
 There was oil and rumors of oil, while the oysters enjoyed a 
 holiday. The discovery of an obviously oily spot on a foot- 
 path helped to fan the flame, for no one would believe that 
 Cornelius Mersereau had upset the family oil c^n at this spot. 
 Wherever two or three were gathered together, the sudden 
 opulence of Mariners' Harbor was the one theme. But as 
 time passed on and the spot on the path dried up and there 
 came no more oil on the surface of the Van Name pond, the 
 talk gradually slackened and the excitement, after a few spas- 
 modic convulsions, died down, and finally it was eclipsed 
 by the baby's first tooth or some other equally exhilarating 
 incident, and thus ended the nine-day wonder. No attempt to 
 drive a well was made or seriously contemplated. The news- 
 paper tale seems to have been based quite as much on hope as 
 fact, but no one holds a newspaper to strict accountability in 
 such matters. 
 
 Notes on the Van Name Family 
 
 By Calvin D. Van Name. 
 In the Eighteenth Century, the plantation of Aaron Van 
 Name bordered on Newark Bay and commenced at the line of 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 125 
 
 what is now the Matthias DeHart farm at Holland Avenue, 
 and extended along Newark Bay, including Shooters Island, 
 to the west line of the John Lackman farm at Lockman 
 Avenue. 
 
 Aaron Van Name, as well as cultivating his plantation, was 
 an oyster planter, and planted in Newark Bay, New York Bay 
 and Raritan Bay. In all likelihood the Van Names who pre- 
 ceded Aaron were likewise oyster planters as well as farmers. 
 They were not confined to one way in making a livelihood. If 
 the crops failed on the farm they had the bays. It is said, and 
 seems to be well sustained, that there was as much product 
 in value in the bays per acre as there was upon the land. 
 
 The original Van Name homestead remained standing on 
 the high land until it was removed for the opening of Arling- 
 ton Avenue and the Shore Road about twenty-five years ago. 
 In this house were born Moses Van Name, Mrs. Catherine 
 Wood, the mother of Dr. J. Walter Wood, and Captain Michael 
 Van Name. 
 
 The whole frontage of Mariners' Harbor, from Holland 
 Hook to Morning Star Road, was in large plots sometimes 
 called plantations. The northwest corner of the Island was 
 the plantation of the DeHarts ; coming east the next plantation 
 was that of Aaron Van Name referred to; further east, that 
 of John Lockman (more properly John Lackman) ; then that 
 of Van Pelt, and that of Joseph Lake. 
 
 The population at this time was upon the smaller pieces of 
 land on Old Place Road, now called Washington Avenue, and 
 not upon Newark Bay. There was a tide mill on the Old Place 
 Road where corn and grain were ground, thus giving to the 
 Old Place importance and some life. At the time referred to, 
 the Shore Road existed, but it consisted mostly of spaces be- 
 tween high and low mater mark, making a winding trail. 
 
 Staten Island Sound, which was reached from Old Place 
 Creek, which is on the Old Place Road, was a mine for seed 
 oysters for two hundred years, as well as was Newark Bay, 
 which was used for planting. 
 
 Calvin Decker Van Name 
 
 There seems to be practically nothing in print concerning 
 the oystermen of Mariners' Harbor. Everyone who was active 
 in the palmy days of the oyster trade has long since gone. 
 
126 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 Consequently, we feel ourselves fortunate in finding in Mr. 
 Van Name a good memory of the fireside tales of his youth, 
 and a willingness to talk. 
 
 Mr. Van Name was a grandson of that David Van Name, 
 mentioned elsewhere. The generations of this famiy appear to 
 have been a procession of high-minded men who combined 
 business acumen with character. His grandfather was such a 
 one, and all his grandfather's five sons stood for the best that 
 the citizenship of the Island knew. According to Plutarch, "It 
 is indeed a desirable thing to be well descended, but the glory 
 belongs to our ancestors." 
 
 By the time it became necessary for Calvin to choose his 
 walk in life, it was obvious that the oyster business was on the 
 decline. Whether it was because of this, or whether it was 
 because his active mind preferred the stimulus that legal work 
 brought to it, we do not know; but, whatever the reason, he 
 made good in the law, as did his forebears in the oyster trade. 
 It is, as Plutarch explains, a fine thing to come into the world 
 with such a background as Mr. Van Name had, but how much 
 finer to pass on to the next generation, as he does, the family 
 traditions untarnished. 
 
 Mr. Van Name died suddenly on September 14, 1924, while 
 still active in his profession and the duties of a good citizen. 
 He is buried in the little cemetery at Graniteville on the west- 
 erly side of the Willow Brook Road. 
 
 West of Western Avenue 
 
 From Western Avenue to the Elizabethport Ferry, the 
 ownership of the road has been in dispute. The street railway 
 company claimed to own this portion of the way, and would 
 neither improve it nor allow the city to do so. The matter was 
 finally taken up by the authorities, and on data furnished by 
 George W. Tuttle, the Corporation Counsel found that the 
 Shore Road was first laid out on April 7, 1705, by the Commis- 
 sioners of Highways, with its westerly terminus indefinite; 
 that a patent for a ferry to Elizabethport was granted June 10, 
 1736; that the road was again laid out by the Commissioners 
 of Highways on March 14, 1774, after which it is given fre- 
 quent mention in the records. 
 
Last House, Old Place Road 1917. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 127 
 
 A Ghost in the Making 
 
 As Mr. Van Name has shown, Old Place is naturally a part 
 of this North Shore story; consequently we will proceed 
 thither by way of Western Avenue. 
 
 Western Avenue does not lend itself to story except as re- 
 gards the Reverend Dr. Kenny. The Doctor was a graduate of 
 Oxford, editor of a religious paper, and one of the most promi- 
 nent of the old "Bible House group." But the Doctor had 
 asthma, and thereby hangs a true ghost story. 
 
 In some way not now known, he discovered that the air in 
 these lowland parts disagreed with his affliction and added 
 much to his comfort. Consequently he built or bought or bor- 
 rowed some manner of boat in which he and his family floated 
 in and out of the creeks that serpentine the marsh fringe of 
 this western part of Staten Island. But our reverend friend 
 desired a more firm foundation under foot and made several 
 attempts to purchase a bit of land here for a permanent habi- 
 tation. In those far-off days the people hereabouts did not 
 care to part with the land which had come down to them 
 through many generations. 
 
 Finally, however, he did secure part of the fairly worthless 
 sand heap known as Battle Hill. Here, on the western side of 
 Western Avenue, just south of Lawrence Creek, he gathered 
 together material for the building of a home. Whatever could 
 be had for nothing strongly appealed to the Doctor, as it does 
 to most of us — broken pieces of terra cotta blocks and other 
 scraps of building material for the walls, while from the waters 
 came clam and oyster shells which he burned for the lime with 
 which to cement them together. Thus a habitation arose in 
 this solitude more serviceable than elegant. The building was 
 but one story in height with a flat roof, about 35 feet long and 
 nearly as wide, and here the builder with his wife and 
 daughters spent their days. 
 
 As time went on one of the girls married and the other fell 
 off the railroad trestle nearby, and finally Dr. Kenny slept with 
 his fathers and the house stood empty. It was a lonesome spot 
 at best; the neighborhood was marsh and waste sand with a 
 growth of scrub and rushes. Several times those passing heard 
 dreadful screams, as of a woman, coming from the deserted 
 building, but none were so bold as to investigate — rather did 
 the belated traveler hurry about his own business. Thus the 
 
128 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 place came by a bad reputation and creepy stories began to 
 circulate, while the character of the harmless man of God suf- 
 fered considerably at the hands of the gossips. 
 
 Finally came an artist — one Kelly — with a friend who, de- 
 siring to sketch the salt meadows and finding this vacant house, 
 took possession, although warned that the place was haunted. 
 When a fire was attempted the chimney refused to draw, and 
 the pair were all but smoked out and, to crown their troubles, 
 a squall came up which brought with it a brief but copious 
 downpour. This kept the artists busy finding dry spots, and 
 right on the top of their troubles came a series of shrieks from 
 the direction of the chimney, that sent cold chills up and down 
 a couple of spinal columns, such as they had never known 
 before. 
 
 The rain ceased as suddenly as it had come, the clouds 
 broke and the moon shone down on the waste of marsh and 
 sand ; and our heroes, gathering their scattered wits and, still 
 game, ventured to look up the chimney, but all was dark and 
 unseeable. Hardly had they withdrawn their heads when a 
 long, rasping, nerve-shattering scream broke from the chimney, 
 and one of the men in the excitement of the moment thrust a 
 revolver up the flue and fired twice. The response was even 
 more dreadful than anything they had heard before. The 
 shrieks were appalling, and when one of them looked up again 
 and saw two bright, piercing eyes staring down at him, it was 
 too much, and both men left for civilization, nor stood on the 
 order of their going. 
 
 When daylight came these two intrepid adventurers con- 
 cluded to investigate. Now, it seems that whoever closed the 
 house had covered the top of the chimney with a piece of tin 
 which had partly loosened. Certain winds would twist this, 
 and the consequent noises, under the favoring circumstances of 
 night and isolation, sounded like the cries of a lost soul, while 
 the bright eyes proved to be nothing more than the bullet holes 
 through the tin made vivid by a brilliant moon. 
 
 When last seen the place was occupied by Italians and was 
 as unexciting and prosaic as only an Italian can make it. 
 
 The good Mr. Kenny is buried in Hillside Cemetery, near 
 Graniteville, and the gravestone reads. "Rev. James E. Kenny. 
 Born in Bath, Eng., Sept. 10, 1827. Died Oct. 8, 1900. He 
 fought the fight, The victory won ; The Crown is his." 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 129 
 
 Old Place 
 
 We have it on the authority of Mr. Ira K. Morris that this 
 locality was known to the Indians as Pon-na-wa-wah, "a place 
 of safety." It was here, says Mr. Morris, that a remnant of 
 the Indians retreated following a defeat at the hands of the 
 northern Indians. Here they found a safe hiding place among 
 the thickets that covered these sand dunes. 
 
 Next came the white man, who monopolized all the good 
 ground and crowded the aborigines onto this land of sand and 
 scrub. Consequently, here was the last Indian settlement on 
 Staten Island. The many finds of Indian relics through these 
 parts tend to confirm history as writ by Mr. Morris. 
 
 Mr. Clute, who, with Raymond M. Tysen, blazed Staten 
 Island's historic trail, accounts for the name "Old Place" as 
 follows : For a long time there was but one house here. This 
 being a central spot for a widely scattered population, the 
 house was used for religious services until it became so dilapi- 
 dated that the meeting place was changed. The new location, 
 however, was not to the liking of the many, and the attendance 
 dwindled to such an alarming extent that it was voted to move 
 back to the "Old Place", — and ever after the name persisted. 
 
 The road that led thither was naturallv known as the Old 
 Place Road until the city fathers changed the name that had 
 a local flavor to Washington Avenue, which means nothing. 
 
 The old tide mill that made this locality one of importance 
 in the days of small things naturally gathered a village about 
 it. Again historian Morris comes to the rescue with a quota- 
 tion from "an old book, worn with handling and stained with 
 age," which he tells us he found in the possession of Mr. George 
 T. Jones of Mariners' Harbor. From this Mr. Morris learned 
 that the mill was erected for Judge David Mersereau, in 1803, 
 by John Hilleker, the leading Staten Island builder of those 
 days. It began as a one-story building, but during the War 
 of 181 2 it was leased to the State, when a second story was 
 added. 
 
 Mr. Morris discovered in some "old records" that Indians 
 and slaves were among those who labored for hire in the con- 
 struction of the mill at a wage of 6d per day. For some rea- 
 son not explained, these did not live at peace, one with the 
 other. One little thing led to another until somebody's head 
 was cracked and a pitched battle ensued, the slaves being 
 
130 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 pitched within the mill while the Indians were pitched without. 
 It took the militia to iron out the trouble. As a result the red 
 men found themselves in the red jail in Richmond, while the 
 slaves were turned over to their masters to be reasoned with. 
 "Five and twenty lashes at the whipping post," which stood 
 across Mill Road from St. Andrew's Church, gave a certain em- 
 phasis to the reasoning. 
 
 Some time during the earlier history of the mill, a third 
 story and attic were added, and so it stood until destroyed by 
 fire on December 13, 1896. At first a brother-in-law of Judge 
 Mersereau, Abram Decker, managed the mill; following him 
 came Charles Wood. Then a New York firm, headed by a Mr. 
 Johnson, ground so much grist here that it used its own boats 
 to convey the product to its place of business in the city. 
 
 Andrew Prior was the miller after the Johnson firm retired, 
 and last came David and Thomas Mallett. By this time Min- 
 neapolis was doing to the small grist mills of the country what 
 John D. Rockefeller did to its small oil dealers, and shortly 
 after 1870 the Old Place mill turned its attention to the manu- 
 facture of mineral paint. A portion of the material used was 
 drawn from the iron-tinted clay of Todt Hill or from the mines 
 on Jewett Avenue. It also ground cocoanut shells ; then, quite 
 naturally, became a feed mill under the management of W. L. 
 Stephens and, later, Thomas Smith. 
 
 About 1890 or 1 89 1 the old wheel ceased to turn; its years 
 were accomplished. 
 
 According to Captain John J. Decker, who was born eighty 
 odd years ago, the old tide mill was built by Israel Prior, the 
 Captain's great-grandfather. It seems to be well established, 
 however, that the mill stood here long before Prior's time, and 
 it appears probable that Captain Decker may have had in mind 
 the adding of the third story, as that would be event enough 
 to keep Old Place talking for many a day. 
 
 The Captain stated that the mill wheel turned on both the 
 flood and ebb tides, but on the former only when it was strong- 
 est. At high tide the gate was closed and the water was used 
 as required. The old Prior house, the miller's home, still 
 stands on the north side of the road, the first building east from 
 the mill site. 
 
 On Christmas Day, 1885, one of the authors visited Old 
 Place Mill and examined the machinery, trying, in some cases 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 131 
 
 without success, to make out its use. On the floor there were 
 a great number of labels printed in blue, reading : 
 
 "Carpenter's 6 Lbs Graham Flour Manufactured at the 
 Summerville Mills. S. I." 
 
 These labels had no doubt lain about the structure for a 
 number of years, for in the office the many papers scattered 
 about bore dates of 1875 and 1877. 
 
 The Voice for a Mile 
 
 In Old Place, west of Western Avenue, there once lived a 
 row of Van Pelts who, it would appear, were the original loud 
 speakers. At least the following story, which comes from an 
 eminently dependable source, rather suggests that long dis- 
 tance calls were an old story to Mariners' Harbor even before 
 the day of the telephone. 
 
 Before relating the incident it might be well to explain that 
 work was rather slack during the winter months and, as a con- 
 sequence, certain of the oystermen traveled to the foot of West 
 10th Street, New York, every morning, where there was al- 
 ways a job opening oysters. 
 
 Among those who thus improved the shining hours were 
 four brothers Van Pelt. Three of these — Henry, Frank, and 
 Benjamin — lived in Old Place ; the fourth, Garry, on Van Pelt 
 Avenue, just south of St. Clement's Church, Mariners' Harbor. 
 When the three started for the ferry and as they rounded the 
 corner of Old Place Road and Western Avenue, they all, with 
 one accord, lifted up their voices and called on Garry to get 
 up, and he, giving heed unto the warning, arose as he was bid, 
 ate his breakfast and made haste to the foot of Van Pelt 
 Avenue, where he met his brothers. It is stated as a fact that 
 all Mariners' Harbor awoke with Garry, and there was much 
 noise of lamentation on the part of those who would have pre- 
 ferred a little more sleep. 
 
 Our informant states that the call of the Van Pelt boys 
 could be heard a mile ; a scale laid on the map indicates that 
 the distance above-mentioned is some two miles and a half. 
 To the analytical mind there may come a doubt if a serious 
 attempt were made to reconcile the figures here given. Our 
 own efforts have been wholly concentrated on furnishing the 
 bare facts in the case. 
 
132 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 Exchanged a Bullet for Her Husband 
 
 Mrs. Van Pelt was a valiant, pugnacious little woman who 
 would have pleased Washington Irving and been the heroine 
 of one of his tales if he had been fortunate enough to have been 
 acquainted with the lady. She lived during the Revolution on 
 that part of the Island lying nearest to Elizabethtown, New 
 Jersey, which was the scene of much skirmishing. The good 
 citizens of Elizabeth had the habit of coming over the kill in 
 the night, to call on their Staten Island neighbors, and their 
 visits betook largely of the nature of surprise parties. On one 
 of these excursions they knocked at the door of the Van Pelt 
 homestead, calling the occupants by name, telling them that the 
 Americans were coming, and when the unsuspecting Van Pelt 
 opened the door, they told him the Americans had come, and 
 proceeded to lead him across Bridge Creek meadows to their 
 boat at the shore. 
 
 His little spouse was left behind. She was only about four 
 feet tall, but, though of diminutive stature, she was courageous 
 of spirit and, following her husband's captors with the family 
 musket, wounded one and put the others to flight. Thus did 
 this little wife get her husband back again, exchanging him for 
 a bullet. 
 
 Another Van Pelt 
 
 While we are discoursing on the Van Pelt family, it might 
 be well to dispose of Andrew Prior Van Pelt, better known as 
 Prior Van Pelt. He is to be used as an illustration of the 
 simple life and the ease with which it was pursued in Old 
 Place. 
 
 As we understand it, Prior's working capital consisted of 
 something in the nature of a skiff, a pair of oyster tongs, a 
 crabbing outfit which included a string and a piece of meat, 
 an eel spear, and an abundant supply of philosophy. With his 
 boat he frequented Old Place creek where he planted, grew 
 and gathered "mill-pond oysters," a name applied to oysters 
 that are brought up in a fresh water atmosphere, so to speak. 
 When oystering was slack, with his string and meat he en- 
 ticed the unwary crab from the depths of the creek. During 
 the winter, Mr. Van Pelt cut holes through the ice and, with 
 his spear, jabbed for eels that had gone to bed in the nice, 
 warm mud on the bottom of the creek. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 133 
 
 Thus we see that he drew his entire sustenance from Old 
 Place Creek; that, being his own boss, he worked when and 
 where and how he pleased; that he could work much or little 
 as seemed to him good, and we have no doubt that, could we 
 but locate his tombstone, it would be found that he lived a 
 hundred years or more. It is worry that kills and, provided 
 Prior's wife and children had the same brand of philosophy as 
 himself, it would seem as though he had as little to worry 
 about as one of those fuzzy little midgets that flutter through 
 a whole long summer day. 
 
 Witchcraft 
 
 For some time past a family living in that secluded spot 
 known as the Old Place have had a family affliction, and were 
 under the impression that it was caused by witchcraft, as no 
 other cause evinced itself. So, on Tuesday last, preparations 
 were made to compel the evil one to show itself, in the follow- 
 ing manner : An image was made and placed in due position, 
 
 when Capt. was selected to fire the fatal shot. The 
 
 Captain took deliberate aim, and proved his skill in the art of 
 war by dropping the image most beautifully; after which a 
 committee was appointed to go and see if a certain person under 
 suspicion had given up the ghost. But what was their sur- 
 prise to find the suspected party in the act of partaking of a 
 good dinner, and totally unaware of any attempt having been 
 made against its life. It was thus proved that either there was 
 no witch in the trouble, or that the Captain had failed to send 
 his instrument of death to a fatal spot. So endeth the lesson. 
 
 — [Richmond County Gazette, Sept. 12, 1866. 
 
 It is well known to those who have made a study of this 
 subject that nothing but a silver bullet can kill a witch. No 
 doubt, had the Captain used such, the result would have been 
 far different and of direct benefit to the community. 
 
 Old Place Witch 
 
 Benjamin Decker, some sixty years ago, and then an old 
 man, told his small grandson the following tale, which the 
 grandson has told to us. (This is placed here because it goes 
 to show that the fear of witches in Old Place had a firm 
 foundation in fact) : 
 
134 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 It seems that a certain woman of the neighborhood was 
 long suspected of practicing the black arts to the detriment of 
 those who stayed home nights and behaved themselves. As is 
 usual in such cases, no one was found who would take the 
 lead in any investigation, and hence things went from bad to 
 worse, until finally matters reached such a stage that it was 
 necessary to do something. Cream turned sour on perfectly 
 bright, clear nights ; the pigs refused to fatten for the killing ; 
 the babies had the measles and the mothers dropped so many 
 stitches in their knitting that they could never get a pair of 
 stockings finished, and altogether there was nothing but toil 
 and trouble the place over. 
 
 Finally it became necessary to act, and a band of brave 
 souls was formed for the purpose. On a particularly dark night 
 the chosen few undertook to watch and follow. The witch ap- 
 peared this night without her broomstick, which was accepted 
 as evidence that an evil spell was to be cast on someone handy 
 by. But instead of making for the village, her way lay out the 
 Old Place Road toward the west, whereat those skulking 
 among the black shadows of the roadside much wondered. On 
 she went to the footpath that led down to Old Place Creek, 
 and down this she turned to where the black waters coiled and 
 bubbled, and here from among the sedges they saw her drag 
 out the old wrack of a horse long dead, whose dried bones 
 rattled on the midnight air as though signalling to fiends that 
 were known to frequent the marsh rivulets on the Jersey side. 
 This she launched into the creek and, crawling within its hol- 
 low ribs, she sailed without any apparent effort across the 
 Sound and vanished among the tall grasses that grew rank 
 along its shore. 
 
 Whether her time had come and she went to meet the 
 Devil, or whether she found more congenial spirits on the other 
 side, no man knoweth; but, as she came not back, her former 
 neighbors did not disturb themselves to inquire, and in Jersey 
 or in an even warmer clime we must leave her. 
 
 The hovel she had formerly occupied was given over to the 
 owl and the bat, and until its last stick rotted into the ground 
 the place' was known to be haunted. For long years thereafter 
 shrieks and curses could be heard on foul nights coming from 
 the direction of this desolate spot. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 135 
 
 "No beast for his food 
 Dare now range the wood, 
 
 But hush'd in his lair he lies lurking; 
 While mischiefs, by these, 
 On land and on seas, 
 
 At noon of night are a-working." 
 
 Further Proof 
 
 The history of Case Bowan is further proof that Old Place 
 was beset with witches, if further proof were needed. 
 
 Just when Case existed in the flesh is not a matter of of- 
 ficial record, but it might have been a hundred years before the 
 tide mill was erected — possibly more. That the facts have 
 been Old Place property for more than seven generations is a 
 matter of proof. 
 
 Case was a nimble-tongued lady in whom the truth was 
 not, if such meagre facts as we have are to be depended on. 
 She said things concerning the neighbors that ruffed the tem- 
 pers of those referred to and gave much meat for gossip to 
 their friends. So even-handed was she, however, in the spread- 
 ing of her favors, that few there were who had been passed in 
 the distribution. Then it was further alleged that she had a 
 way of acquiring other people's property that appears to have 
 been deemed fraudulent by the losers. She was also given to 
 being out at unseemly hours of the night, when honest folk 
 were supposed to be at home and in bed. But it was her ability 
 to make much of airy nothings — put a sting in the spoken 
 word, so to speak — that was the chief cause of objection. 
 
 No one dared to do anything that could bring down her 
 wrath on himself and, consequently, she had more of her own 
 way than was good for her, as we shall shortly see. 
 
 It seems that there were those who made a practice of 
 watching her comings and goings, else the method of her tak- 
 ing off would never have been known. One dark and stormy 
 night when thunder pounded the heavens and the lightning 
 searched out every cranny of the dark, the faithful watchers 
 saw Case leave her home and walk to a pepperidge tree and 
 there, just as a vivid flash of lightning revealed everything, the 
 Devil was plainly seen to grab her by the throat and tear out 
 her tongue. The flash was gone in an instant, and so was the 
 
136 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 lady. Nevermore was she heard of, but a curious thing was 
 discovered the following day. When the tree was visited it 
 was found to be entirely surrounded by a circle of salt and, as 
 it is well known that a witch cannot cross a line of salt, it is 
 obvious that she must have gone either up or down. 
 
 As the faithful reader of these pages will note, this is the 
 second known instance where the Father of Lies has objected 
 to a too great usurpation of his rights and privileges. Just 
 why he should object is a matter for debate. The authors of 
 this work do not feel that they are in a position to decide the 
 question, and prefer to leave it open for those more learned in 
 the subject. 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 137 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 A 
 
 Able-bodied paupers 68 
 
 Abolitionists 64, 65. 78 
 
 Adlam, schoolmaster 96 
 
 Andre, Major 86, 122 
 
 Another Van Pelt 132 
 
 Anti-Slavery Fair 65 
 
 Anti-Slavery standard 64 
 
 Aunt Mary Ann 40 
 
 B 
 
 Bacon, Daniel G 71 
 
 Bailey House, The 42 
 
 Bailey, John 42 
 
 Bakery, The first, on the North Shore 94 
 Baptist Church in Mariners' Habor...ll6 
 
 Bard Avenue 36 
 
 Bard. John 41 
 
 Barlow, Gen Francis C 54 
 
 Barnes, Post, Lockman, Van Name, 
 
 Bush 117 
 
 Barnes, Stephen D 117 
 
 Barrett, Col. Nathan 89, 91 
 
 Barrett House 89 
 
 Barrett, Major C. T 90 
 
 Barton, Samuel 15, 16 
 
 Bedell, Joseph 9 
 
 Belmont, August 21 
 
 Belmont Hall 24 
 
 Bement, Edward 32, 85 
 
 Berry, William G 16 
 
 Birmingham, E. F 16 
 
 Bleak House 33 
 
 Bodine, John 98 
 
 Boiling Spring 85 
 
 Bowman, Case 135 
 
 Bowman, George 122 
 
 Britton, Dr. Nathaniel L 16 
 
 Burr, Aaron 103 
 
 Bush, Capt. Jake 117 
 
 Bush, John 94 
 
 Butler, Chas. W 16 
 
 C 
 
 Camp "Washington 7 
 
 Campbell, G. W 88 
 
 Capt. Garrett P. Wright and the 
 
 Brothers Thompson 116 
 
 Carroll, Dr. Alfred L 16 
 
 Carroll, Bradish J 16 
 
 Castleton Hotel 21 
 
 Catamarans 48 
 
 CatHn, George 16 
 
 Cement House. The 28 
 
 Chicago Fire Incident.. 67 
 
 Christopher. Capt. Richard 87 
 
 Church of the Ascension 94 
 
 Civil War Incident 23 
 
 Civil War times 7 
 
 Clark, Dr. Ephraim 97. 102 
 
 Clark, Dr. James Guyon 97, 102 
 
 Claus 39 
 
 Cole, G. A 16 
 
 Confederate flag incident 42 
 
 Continental Hotel 103 
 
 Copperheads 65 
 
 Corktown 89 
 
 Corson, Capt. Abe 119 
 
 Crittenden, Capt. John 118 
 
 Croak, John 115 
 
 Crotheron, Abraham 25 
 
 Crocheron farm 39 
 
 Cropper, Tom 118 
 
 Cropper, William 118 
 
 Cruser — See Kruser. 
 
 Cruser Club 88 
 
 Cruser, Garret 87 
 
 Cubberly, Capt. Dan 118 
 
 Curtis, George William 51, 53, 69, S4 
 
 D 
 
 Dacosta's Ferry 101 
 
 Danner's Hotel 103 
 
 David Decker to Dr. Satterthwait. . . . 115 
 
 Davis Avenue 64 
 
 Davis. Thos. E 3, 22, 23, 25 
 
 Davis, William T 16 
 
 Decker, Abram 130 
 
 Decker David 115 
 
 Decker, Capt. David M 119 
 
 Decker, Capt. Isaac 103 
 
 Decker, Capt. John 119 
 
 Decker, Capt. John J 130 
 
 Decker's Ferry 101 
 
 De Groot, Alfred 102 
 
 De Groot. Garret 86 
 
 De Groot House 86 
 
 De Groot, Johannes 86 
 
 De Hart brook 120 
 
 De Hart, Capt Edward 119 
 
 De Hart, Uncle John 120 
 
 De Hart, Mattie 120 
 
 De Hart, Capt. Mose 119 
 
 De Hart, Nicholas 39 
 
 De Hart plantation 125 
 
 De Kay. Commodore 62 
 
 Delafleld, H P 49 
 
 Delafleld, Richard 49 
 
 Delavan, Jr., Edward C 16 
 
 Democratic Club 22 
 
 Deviled tongue 120 
 
 de Vries 9 
 
 Dodworth, Allen 91 
 
 Dongan Manor, The 98 
 
 Downey Shipbuilding Plant and Mr. 
 
 Bowman 121 
 
 Draft Riots, A child's recollection of. 69 
 
 Drisler, Henry 95 
 
 Duer, Miss Catharine, and the Har- 
 bor bull 41 
 
 Duffle, General 86 
 
 Dutch Church 104 
 
 Duxbury, Ellis 8 
 
 Duxbury Glebe 8 
 
 E 
 
 Edwards, Judge Ogden 99 
 
 Elliott, Dr. Samuel McKenzie 36 
 
 Elliott, Dr. S. R 37 
 
 Elliottville 32, 36 
 
 Exchanged a Bullet for her husband.. 132 
 Exchange of wives, An 107 
 
138 
 
 NORTH SHORE 
 
 F 
 
 Faber, Eberhard, house 87 
 
 Faber house 107 
 
 Factoryiville 32, 89 
 
 Fall of Babylon 8 
 
 Fall of Rome 8 
 
 Ferry, An exclusive 29 
 
 Ferry to New York 17 
 
 Fiddlers' change 91 
 
 Fiedler, Ernest 23 
 
 Fort Hill 9 
 
 Fort Knyphausen 9 
 
 Fort Wadsworth 19 
 
 Fountain, Capt. Henry 91 
 
 Fountain Houce 90 
 
 Frost, Sam'l H 16 
 
 Further proof 135 
 
 O 
 
 Gannon, John 72 
 
 Gardner house 42 
 
 Garner, W. T 61 
 
 Gay, Sarah Mifilin 69 
 
 Gay, Sidney Howard 64 
 
 Gays, The 63 
 
 Gentle Hessian, The 121 
 
 German Club Rooms 18 
 
 Ghost, A, in the making 127 
 
 Ghost story 22 
 
 Gibson, Capt. Abe 118 
 
 Glory, The, that has departed 31 
 
 Good time, A, under difficulties 18 
 
 Goodhue, Mrs. Charles 40 
 
 Gould, Edward Wanten 36 
 
 Grant, U. S., almost a resident 61 
 
 Gratacap family 79 
 
 Gratacap, John L 81 
 
 Gratacap, Louis Pope 31, 46, 79 
 
 Greek Temple buildings 22 
 
 Greeley, Horace 67 
 
 Green — first caterer 77 
 
 Green, John C 21 
 
 Grote, August R 29 
 
 H 
 
 Hamilton, Alexander 30 
 
 Hamilton Avenue 21 
 
 Hamilton Park 28 
 
 Harbor Brook 31 
 
 Harbor dock 17, 19 
 
 Harding mansion 22 
 
 Harrison, Dr. John T 106 
 
 Hayley's lane 63 
 
 Hazard, R. M 16 
 
 Henshaw, Samuel 16 
 
 Hessian caves 21 
 
 Hessian Springs 25, 26 
 
 Hewitt, Abraham S 17 
 
 Hilleker, John 129 
 
 Hilleker s Ferry 101 
 
 Hollick, Arthur 16 
 
 Hopper, De Wolf 33 
 
 Hornby, Alex 15 
 
 Horse-boat, Port Richmond 101 
 
 Horsecars, First 17 
 
 House, First 9 
 
 Housmans, The 113 
 
 Housman, Capt. George 113 
 
 Housman. Capt Jacob 114 
 
 Housman. ('apt. John J 114 
 
 Housman, John W 16 
 
 Hoyt, Mrs. Louis T 75, 77, 78 
 
 Hoyt, William 16 
 
 Huguenot Hall 113 
 
 "Huguenot'', Steamboat 17, 33 
 
 Hyatt Street 9 
 
 I— J 
 
 Irish, The, Cow-Frog of Britton's 
 
 Pond 100 
 
 Jaques House 106 
 
 Jaques, Isaac 106 
 
 Jersey Street 25 
 
 Jewett Avenue 102 
 
 Jewett, G. W 16 
 
 John Bards, The 41 
 
 Johnson, Israel D 113 
 
 Johnson, Templeton 74 
 
 Johnsons, The William Templeton..... 83 
 Jones, John Q 22 
 
 K 
 
 Kenny, Rev 127 
 
 Kiralfy 8 
 
 Kisrel, Gustave 53 
 
 Kruser — See Cruser. 
 
 Kruser burial ground 88 
 
 Kruser farm 85 
 
 Kruser House 87 
 
 Kruser's Lane 87 
 
 Kruser Spring 85 
 
 L 
 
 Labau, N B 16 
 
 Lake-Croak house 115 
 
 Lake, Joseph 115 
 
 Lake, Joseph, plantation 125 
 
 Land values in New Brighton 36 
 
 Landing, Still House 24 
 
 Latourette House 20 
 
 Law, George 6 
 
 Lawrence, Capt. Thomas 24 
 
 Leng, Charles W 16 
 
 Leonowens, Mrs 91 
 
 Little Dublin 64 
 
 Livingston 32, 33 
 
 Livingston, Anson 32, 33 
 
 Livingstons. The, and One Watson.... 33 
 
 Lockman, John 117 
 
 Lockman, John, plantation 125 
 
 Logan Spring 31 
 
 Lovegrove, Mr 78 
 
 Lovelace, Col. Francis 8 
 
 Lovers' Lane 21. 87 
 
 Low, Daniel 15 
 
 Lowell. Mrs. C R 50. 68 
 
 Lowell, James Russell 43 
 
 M 
 
 Macgregor's Inn 91 
 
 Marble House 21 
 
 Marryat's, Captain, Diary in America.. 3 
 Matthias De Hart on Flies, Oysters 
 
 and the Board of Health 120 
 
 Meigs, Charles 48 
 
 Mersereau, Cornelius 106, 123 
 
 Mersereau, Judge David 103, 129 
 
 Mersereau's Ferry 101 
 
 Metropolitan Baseball Club 7 
 
 Minturn, Robert B 51. 54 
 
RICHMOND TERRACE 
 
 i39 
 
 Mohawk, Capsizing of 61 
 
 More Old Salts, Including Tom Crop- 
 per 118 
 
 Morgan, Lafayette 90 
 
 Morgan, Miss 63 
 
 Mose, Mrs., and her daughters 47 
 
 H 
 
 Names, A few 9 
 
 National Purity Alliance 68 
 
 Natural Science Association 16 
 
 Nautilus Hotel 19 
 
 Neilson, Ernest F 16 
 
 Neville, Capt. John 29 
 
 New Bristol 101 
 
 New Brighton 5, 65 
 
 New Brighton Association 3 
 
 New Brighton dock 17 
 
 North Shore Car Line 19 
 
 "Nurses Lane" 36 
 
 O 
 
 Oculist, The first 36 
 
 Oil in Mariners' Harbor 123 
 
 Old Place 129 
 
 Old Place Road 129 
 
 Old Place witch 133 
 
 "O'd Shore Road" 9 
 
 Others of those who went down to the 
 
 sea in schooners 119 
 
 "Our Neighborhood" 31 
 
 Oyster float 116 
 
 Oystermen. The, of Staten Island Ill 
 
 Oysterman The, troubles of Ill 
 
 P 
 
 Papers — how delivered 33 
 
 Parkman, Francis 48 
 
 Parkman, John 39 
 
 Pavilion Hotel 23 
 
 Pearsall, Capt. James 118 
 
 Pelton, Daniel 86 
 
 Pelton house 86 
 
 Philharmonic concerts 49 
 
 Pigeons, Wild, in Mariners' Harbor... 122 
 
 Pine's store 73, 90 
 
 Pine's store and Lafayette Morgan.... 90 
 
 Pink Jail 78 
 
 Politics of 1867 10 
 
 Pon-na-wa-wah 129 
 
 Port Richmond 101 
 
 Port Richmond Hotel 103 
 
 Post, Capt. Garrett 117, 119 
 
 Post, Capt. Peter 119 
 
 Post homestead, A 121 
 
 Prior, Andrew 130 
 
 Prior, Israel 130 
 
 Private theatricals 84 
 
 Progress Hall 106 
 
 Pro-Slavery Democrats 65 
 
 Proudfit, A. M 22 
 
 Purvis, Mrs. Robert 65 
 
 R 
 
 Randall, Robert Richard 30 
 
 Red Jacket, Steamboat 33 
 
 Richard R. Stockton, Steamboat 33 
 
 Richmond County Dramatic Siciety, 35, 46 
 
 Richmond Terrace 3 
 
 Richmond Terrace, Glories of 19 
 
 Riots, The, of '63 on Staten Island.... 76 
 
 Road, The, as it was 99 
 
 Rolf, Abraham, farmhoure 86 
 
 Rolph, Joseph 88 
 
 Root, Geo. M 16 
 
 Rowland, Suky 120 
 
 Ryers' Ferry 101 
 
 S 
 
 Sailors Snug Harbor 30 
 
 St. George, Origin of name 6 
 
 St. George Waterfront 6 
 
 St. James Hotel 103 
 
 St. Marks Hotel 21 
 
 St. Mary's Church 37, 61, 81 
 
 St. Peters Parochial School, Site of.... 22 
 
 St. Vincent's Hospital 61 
 
 Santa Anna 26, 49 
 
 Sands, Louis 41 
 
 Sandy Ground 39 
 
 Satterthwait, Dr 115 
 
 Seminary of Learning 105 
 
 Seventy-ninth Highlanders 37 
 
 Shaw, Anna 51 
 
 Shaw, Francis George 60 
 
 Shaw, Robert Gould 50, 83 
 
 Shaws, The, and the Curtises 50 
 
 Shore House 91 
 
 Silver Lake as it was 20 
 
 Simonson, Betsy 102 
 
 Slaves and Indians disagree 129 
 
 Smalley, G. W 73 
 
 Smith, C. Bainbridge 16 
 
 Smith, Sanderson 16 
 
 Smith, Thomas 130 
 
 Smuggling in the olden time 26 
 
 South Shore Car Line 19 
 
 Spatter-work 45 
 
 Spirit rappjngs 37 
 
 Staples' Christmas trees 4-1 
 
 Stapes, Mrs. John B 44 
 
 Staten Island, Old days on 16 
 
 Staten Island Amusement Co 7 
 
 Staten Island Athlete Club 8S 
 
 Staten Island Civic League 5s 
 
 Staten Island Cricket and Baseball 
 
 Club 
 
 Staten Island in 1839 
 
 Staten Island Institute of Arts and 
 
 Sciences 16. 5s 
 
 "Staten Islander" Steamboat 17 
 
 Steamboats, Early ih 
 
 Stephens, W. L 130 
 
 Still House landing 24 
 
 Stokes, Anron Phelps 4S 
 
 "Stone Jug, The" 29 
 
 Striking Oil at Mariners' Harbor 123 
 
 Sunny Lane 21 
 
 T 
 
 Taber, Charles 61 
 
 Taxpayers' Association, 1864 11 
 
 Thompson, George and John 116 
 
 Thompson, Gilbert L 21. 25 
 
 Thompson. "Honest" John 10, 16 
 
 Thorp, Charles G 75, 77 
 
 Tide mill, Old Place 125 129 
 
 Tompkins, Governor D D 8. 9. 10, 30 
 
 Tompkins Guards 91 
 
 Trask, Capt. G. D. S 31 
 
 Tribune, New York 67 
 
i 4 o NORTHSHORE 
 
 Tyler, Mrs 42 
 
 Tysen, Judge Jacob 29. 106 
 
 Tysen, Raymond M 30 
 
 U— V 
 
 Underground railroad 66 
 
 Vanderbilt, Commodore Cornelius 17 
 
 Vanderbilt, Commodore, birthplace .. .107 
 
 Vanderbilt, Elijah 96 
 
 Van Name Family, Notes on 124 
 
 Van Name, Aaron 124 
 
 Van Name, Calvin Decker 125 
 
 Van Name, Uncle Charlie 117 
 
 Van Name, Capt. David 116 
 
 Van Name, Uncle Michael 119 
 
 Van Name, Capt. Moses, farm 123 
 
 Van Name, Capt. William Henry 112 
 
 Van Pelt, Andrew Prior 132 
 
 Van Pelt, Henry, Frank, Ben, Garry.. 131 
 
 Van Pelt, Mrs 132 
 
 Van Pelt, Rev. Peter 1 105 
 
 Van Pelt plantation 126 
 
 Van Pelt's Seminary 105 
 
 Vatican, The 42 
 
 Village Improvement Society, N. B.... 67 
 Voice for a mile, The 131 
 
 Walser, Dr. Theodore 20 
 
 Ward, George A 28 
 
 Ward, George Cabot 70 
 
 Washington Avenue 129 
 
 Watson, Mr 35 
 
 West New Brighton 31 
 
 West New Brighton as it was 31 
 
 Westervelt Avenue 24 
 
 Westervelt, Dr. John S , 24 
 
 West of Western Avenue 126 
 
 Weston, Warren 38 
 
 Willcox Family, The 55 
 
 Willcox, Albert Oliver 65 
 
 Willcox, J. K. Hamilton 55 
 
 Willcox, Albert 55 
 
 Willcox, David 55 
 
 Willcox, Elizabeth 56 
 
 Willcox, William G 57, 58 
 
 Wiman, Erastus 6 
 
 Winter night's journey 18 
 
 Winthrop, Theodore 83 
 
 Winthrop, William 84 
 
 Witchcraft 133 
 
 Wood, Charles 130 
 
 Wood, Capt. Stephen B 118 
 
 Woods, The, of early days 20 
 
 Wright, Capt. Garrett P 115, 116 
 
 Wright, George W 16 
 
 Wyoming, Steamboat 33