CHAPTER XI.
STORIES OF THE POST ROAD.
Pages 92-99
[Page 92]
The journey was a long one from Philadelphia or New York either by land or water, but by sloop there was the panorama of the beautiful Hudson, New York and West Point, Newburgh and Kingston, all of them important in the civil and military happenings of the time, while by stage-coach one found the stage-driver familiar with every rod of the way, and the stories of the whole post road, the latest marriage in one great house and its grandeur, the achievements in war or State of the men of another Manor, and the beauty of its women, or (told with lowered and sepulchral voice) the story of the ghost that was supposed to haunt one of the Manor Houses after the mysterious death of a beautiful young wife. At Montgomery Place between Barrytown and Rhinebeck, General Montgomery's widow had built a beautiful mansion after her husband's tragic death. At another place near the [page 93] same village, afterward occupied by his brother-in-law Peter R. Livingston, the stage driver pointed out Montgomery's willow, a large tree that had grown from a twig playfully stuck in the ground by General Montgomery on a visit to a neighbor, a day or two before he started for Canada. As he planted the twig, he had remarked, "Let if grow to remember me by."
With a wave of his whip as the stage neared Clermont, with special attention to the youth favored with a place beside him on the driver's seat, the genial Jehu would chuckle over the fact that Edward Livingston, the growing statesman, had been a boy at home, owing to the closing of his school at Kingston, when his mother's and Chancellor Livingston's houses were burned during the war, and enjoyed the excitement, and go on to tell of his eighteen mile walks to and from Kingston, Saturdays and Mondays, while school was in session, "short miles coming home, long miles going back, " he would shrewdly add.
Or, if at a little later date, the history of Edward Livingston would pass that of growth into large attainment, as the eminent lawyer and Judge of the Supreme Court, and later Mayor of New York, "He is [page 94] the greatest statesman of his day, men say" the stage driver would assert, and perhaps some occupant of the stage would carry the information further, for stage travelers were sociable on their long journeys. "Livingston is a great linguist, and his house in New York has become the gathering place of many celebrated visitors to our country." His personal qualities were also called in review with feelings of pleasure, his keen sense of humor which made him a delightful companion, and his warm-hearted beneficence, and love of his fellow men, which kept him in New York during the scourge of yellow fever in 1803, doing everything possible to prevent the spread of the disease, and for the comfort of the sick and the poor under these trying circumstances. At the close of his self-sacrificing devotion, he has taken with the disease himself, but owing to his strong constitution his life was saved.
This was apt to be followed by a eulogy on brave Margaret Beekman, Edward's mother, who would take no help from the wounded Tory soldiers in her home, and who, after they were safely disposed of elsewhere, could still courageously laugh at the ludicrous appearance of an old black woman, perched on top of a cart [page 95] full of family possessions, moving away from the doomed house. As soon as the danger was over Mrs. Livingston rebuilt her house on the old foundations. There was also the locust tree still standing, which had been partly carried away by the cannon ball fired at the house by the British soldiers before they landed.
The "Hermitage" begun on a grand scale by Peter R. Livingston before the Revolution and never finished, but in one of whose quaint rooms the historian William Smith, a brother-in-law of the owner wrote a portion of the history of New York, attracted the traveler's eye. Beautiful "Teviotdale" stood on an elevation between Kleina and Roeloff Jansen Kills, a massive building sixty feet square, several stories high, and with dormer windows. After a time they would reach a point opposite the old Manor House to which the title really belonged, the road to which the post-road crossed. It was situated on a grassy spot on the banks of the Hudson, environed with grape vines, bowers, and gigantic trees, near the mouth and upon the north side of Roeloff Jansen Kill, which is now usually called Livingston creek. The original Livingston Manor [page 96] House was still standing in 1799, a hundred years old, but it was burned a few years later.
The tales of the lordly manner of life in the days of the first Lord, that Philip the son of the second Lord Philip, was a Signer of the Declaration of Independence, and William, another son was the patriotic Governor of New Jersey with many pretty daughters, entertained many miles of the road through the Livingston country. Patriotic Sarah Livingston was also a daughter of the second Lord of Livingston Manor, and she, too, had her story. She was the wife of Major-General Alexander, (Earl of Sterling) and accompanied her husband to camp at White Plains. Later she made a visit to New York accompanied by her daughter, Lady Catherine Alexander. It was at this time that she refused, even with the permission of Sir William Clinton, to take so much as a box of tea out of the city, which was under the rule of the British. She was also a loyal member of the Dutch Reformed Church, and as benevolent to the poor and needy, as she was patriotic.
As they approached Germantown the settlement of the Palatines became the topic of conversation. Many [page 97] of these settlers had been drawn from Livingston Manor with its life leases, to the brighter prospects of perpetual leases on the Lower Van Rensselaer Manor at Claverack.
For these people, refugees from the Lower Palatinate in Germany, who had served in Queen Anne's armies, and had asked her aid, being driven from their homes by the ravages of the French, the Queen of England had attempted to provide homes upon her American possessions.
Governor Hunter had purchased a tract of land for the Queen from Robert Livingston in 1710, and the Palatines soon followed, settling on both the east and the west sides of the river. These settlements were in the nature of camps, which later gave them then names of East and West Camp. The camps on the east side which occupied the Livingston land, were named "Annsberg, for Queen Ann, Haysberg, for Lady Hay, wife of Governor Hunter; Hunterstown for the Governor himself; and Queensbury in still further honor of the crown."
The Palatines were not all an ignorant class of people. Many of them had come, as one of their descendants [page 98] has said, with their Bibles and prayer books, expecting from the contracts signed in England, to have a small separate tract of land for each household, upon which they would be able to build homes of their own, and support their families, this land to be paid for at the end of seven years in lumber, tar, hemp, and the yield of the ground. Instead of this they had found themselves in the position of vassals, "slaves" they called themselves, bound to work at tar-making for life, and already the most intelligent among them were suspecting that the tar-making was a failure. At last their superiors discovered it also, and the Palatines left free to choose their own homes, scattered in large numbers to Schoharie and Claverack, where the opportunities offered to new settlers were a real improvement on those of the "camps." The few remaining families of the Palatines were allowed to settle on the land as farmers, and East Camp was known in time as Germantown.
If, for a time, his horses occupied the loquacious stage driver, there were sights and sounds in plenty to attract the travelers. Clover fields abounded all along beautiful Claverack creek, and the apples and plums [page 99] and pears in their season filled the air with an aromatic odor.
Dutch house-wives were fond of bordering their vegetable beds with flower edges. Clove pinks and marigolds, tulips and tiger lilies, larkspur and phlox, wound their way in serpentine lines about homelier growths, while each side of the long path from the swinging gate to the front door, syringas and spice bushes, flaxinella and lilacs drew the guest with a breath of the gods, and generously swept their sweet odors over the garden fences, to the passing way-farer. An so the traveler was welcomed to Claverack, in the church and the homes, by Dominie and congregation, and also in the pleasant sights and mellifluous odors of Clover-reach, while the coaches which passed the Claverack doors, bearing from city to city, the men of the day in their high hats and the ladies in flaring bonnets and floating veils, with the blowing horn of the driver, and the spurts with other teams along the road, formed a large part of the excitement of Claverack life.
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