The Campaign of 1776 around New York and Brooklyn / Including a new and circumstantial account of the battle of Long island and the loss of New York, with a review of events to the close of the year

by Henry Phelps Johnston

Beyond the limits of the city, Manhattan Island retained much of its primitive appearance. Roads, farms, country-seats, interspersed it, but not thickly; and as yet the salient features were hills, marshes, patches of rocky land, streams, and woods. Just upon the outskirts, midway between the rivers, at about the corner of Grand and Centre Streets, the ground rose to a commanding elevation on the farm of William Bayard, which overlooked the city and the island above a distance of more than three miles. Further east, a little north of the intersection of Grand and Division Streets, stood another hill, somewhat lower, where Judge Jones lived, from which opened an extensive view of the East River and harbor. On the west side, on this line, the surface sank from Bayard's mount into a spreading marsh as far as the Hudson, and over which now run portions of Canal and Grand and their cross streets. Where we have the Tombs and surrounding blocks, stood the "Fresh Water" lake or "Collect," several fathoms deep, with high sloping banks on the north and west, and on whose surface were made the earliest experiments in steam navigation in 1796.

One nearly central highway, known as the King's Bridge or Post Road, ran the entire length of the island. Where it left the city at Chatham Square, it was properly the Bowerie or Bowery Lane. Continuing along the present street by this name, it fell off into the line of Fourth Avenue as far as Fourteenth Street, crossed Union Square diagonally to Broadway, and kept the course of the latter to Madison Square at Twenty-third Street. Crossing this square, also diagonally, the road stretched along between Fourth and Second Avenues to Fifty-third Street, passed east of Second Avenue, and then turning westerly entered Central Park at Ninety-second Street. Leaving the Park at a hollow in the hills known as "McGowan's Pass," just above the house of Andrew McGowan, on the line of One Hundred and Seventh Street, west of Fifth Avenue, it followed Harlem Lane to the end of the island. Here, on the other side of King's Bridge, then "a small wooden bridge,"[13] the highway diverged easterly to New England and northerly to Albany.

This portion of the island above the city was known as its "Out-ward," and had been divided at an early date into three divisions, under the names of the Bowery, Harlem, and Bloomingdale divisions. Each contained points of settlement. The Bowery section included that part of the city laid out near Fresh Water Pond and around Chatham Square below Grand Street, and the stretch of country above beyond the line of Twenty-third Street. In this division were to be found some of the notable residences and country-seats of that day. James De Lancey's large estate extended from the Bowery to the East River, and from Division nearly to the line of Houston Street. The Rutgers' Mansion stood attractively on the slopes of the river bank about the line of Montgomery Street, and above De Lancey's, on the Bowery, were the De Peysters, Dyckmans, and Stuyvesants.

The Harlem division of the Out-ward, with which are associated some of the most interesting events of 1776, included what is now known as Harlem, with the island above it as far as King's Bridge. Dutch farmers had settled here a hundred years before the Revolution. As early as 1658, the Director-General and Council of New Netherland gave notice that "for the further promotion of Agriculture, for the security of this Island, and the cattle pasturing thereon, as well as for the greater recreation and amusement of this city of Amsterdam in New Netherland, they have resolved to form a New Village or Settlement at the end of the Island, and about the lands of Jochem Pietersen, deceased, and those which adjoin thereto." The first settlers were to receive lots to cultivate, be furnished with a guard of soldiers, and allowed a ferry across the Harlem River, for "the better and greater promotion of neighborly correspondence with the English of the North."[14] In 1776, the division was interspersed with houses and fields, especially in the stretch of plains or flat land just above One Hundred and Tenth Street, and from the East River to the line of Ninth Avenue. The church and centre of the village were on the east side, in the vicinity of One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street, and the old road by which they were reached from the city branched off from the main highway at McGowan's Pass.

Bloomingdale was a scattered settlement, containing nearly all the houses to be found along the Bloomingdale Road, but the name appears to have identified principally the upper section beyond Fiftieth Street. Here lived the Apthorpes at Ninety-second Street; the Strikers, Joneses, and Hogelands above; and, lower down, the Somerindykes and Harsens. As fixed by law, at that time, this road started from the King's Bridge Road, at the house of John Horn, now the corner of Twenty-third Street and Fifth Avenue, and followed the line of the present Broadway and the recent Bloomingdale Road to the farm of Adrian Hogeland, at One Hundred and Eighth Street.[15] Nearly on a line with Hogeland, but considerably east of him, lived Benjamin Vandewater; and these two were the most northerly residents in the division.

Still another suburb of the city was the village of Greenwich, overlooking the Hudson on the west side, in the vicinity of Fourteenth Street, to which the Greenwich Road, now Greenwich Street, led along the river bank in nearly a straight line. The road above continued further east about as far as Forty-fifth Street, and there connected, by a lane running south-westerly, with the Bloomingdale Road at Forty-third Street. Among the country-seats in this village were those of the Jeaunceys, Bayards, and Clarkes; and above, at Thirty-third Street and Ninth Avenue, stood the ample and conspicuous residence of John Morin Scott, one of the leading lawyers of the city, and a powerful supporter of the American cause.

Across the East River, the "Sister City" of Brooklyn in 1776 was as yet invisible from New York. A clump of low buildings at the old ferry, and an occasional manor-seat, were the only signs of life apparent on that side. Columbia Heights, whose modern blocks and row of wharves and bonded stores suggest commercial activity alone, caught the eye a century ago as "a noble bluff," crowned with fields and woods, and meeting the water at its base with a shining beach. The parish or village proper was the merest cluster of houses, nestled in the vicinity of the old Dutch church, which stood in the middle of the road a little below Bridge Street. The road was the King's highway, and it ran from Fulton Ferry—where we have had a ferry for two hundred and forty years at least—along the line of Fulton Street, and on through Jamaica to the eastern end of Long Island. Besides the settlements that had grown up at these two points—the church and the ferry, which were nearly a mile and a half apart—a village centre was to be found at Bedford, further up the highway, another in the vicinity of the Wallabout, and still another, called Gowanus, along the branch road skirting the bay. These all stood within the present municipal limits of Brooklyn.

As it had been for more than a century before, the population on the Long Island side was largely Dutch at the time of the Revolution. The first-comers, in 1636 and after, introduced themselves to the soil and the red man as the Van Schows, the Cornelissens, the Manjes, and the like—good Walloon patronimics—and the Dutch heritage is still preserved in the names of old families, and even more permanently in the name of the place itself; for the word Brooklyn is but the English corruption of Breukelen, the ancient Holland village[16] of which our modern city appears to have been the namesake. Smyth, the English traveler, makes the general statement towards the close of the Revolution, that two thirds of the inhabitants of Long Island, especially those on the west end, were of Dutch extraction, who continued "to make use of their customs and language in preference to English," which, however, they also understood. "The people of King's County [Brooklyn]," he says, "are almost entirely Dutch. In Queen's County, four fifths of the people are so likewise, but the other fifth, and all Suffolk County, are English as they call themselves, being from English ancestors, and using no other language." Major Baurmeister, one of the officers of the Hessian division which participated in the battle of Long Island, leaves us something more than statistics in the case. He appears to have noted every thing with lively appreciation. To a friend in Germany, for instance, we find him writing as follows: "The happiness of the inhabitants, whose ancestors were all Dutch, must have been great; genuine kindness and real abundance is everywhere; any thing worthless or going to ruin is nowhere to be perceived. The inhabited regions resemble the Westphalian peasant districts; upon separate farms the finest houses are built, which are planned and completed in the most elegant fashion. The furniture in them is in the best taste, nothing like which is to be seen with us, and besides so clean and neat, that altogether it surpasses every description. The female sex is universally beautiful and delicately reared, and is finely dressed in the latest European fashion, particularly in India laces, white cotton and silk gauzes; not one of these women but would consider driving a double team the easiest of work. They drive and ride out alone, having only a negro riding behind to accompany them. Near every dwelling-house negroes (their slaves) are settled, who cultivate the most fertile land, pasture the cattle, and do all the menial work."[17] That the English element, however, had crept in to a considerable extent around Brooklyn at this time, is a matter of record.

The topography of this section of Long Island was peculiar, presenting strong contrasts of high and low land. Originally, and indeed within the memory of citizens still living, that part of Brooklyn lying south and west of the line of Nevins Street was practically a peninsula, with the Wallabout Bay or present Navy Yard on one side of the neck, and on the other, a mile across, the extensive Gowanus creek and marsh, over which now run Second, Third, and Fourth Avenues. The creek set in from the bay where the Gowanus Canal is retained, and rendered the marsh impassable at high-water as far as the line of Baltic Street. Blocks of buildings now stand on the site of mills that were once worked by the ebb and flow of the tides. The lower part of what is known as South Brooklyn was largely swamp land in 1776. Here the peninsula terminated in a nearly isolated triangular piece of ground jutting out into the harbor, called Red Hook, which figured prominently in the military operations. From this projection to the furthest point on the Wallabout was a distance of three miles, and the scenery along the bank presented a varied and attractive appearance to the resident of New York. The "heights" rose conspicuously in all the beauty of their natural outline; lower down the shore might be seen a quaint Dutch mill or two; on the bluffs opposite the Battery, the mansions of Philip and Robert Livingston were prominent; and not far from where the archway crosses Montague Street stood the Remsen and, nearer the ferry, the Colden and Middagh residences. From every point of view the perspective was rural and inviting.[18]