University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

It will be seen that, while I got a degree, and what is
called an education, the latter was obtained by studies of a
very desultory character. There is no question that learning
of all sorts fell off sadly among us during the revolution
and the twenty years that succeeded it. While colonies, we
possessed many excellent instructors who came from Europe;
but the supply ceased, in a great measure, as soon
as the troubles commenced; nor was it immediately renewed
at the peace. I think it will be admitted that the gentlemen
of the country began to be less well educated about
the time I was sent to college, than had been the case for
the previous half century, and that the defect has not yet
been repaired. What the country may do in the first half
of the nineteenth century remains to be seen.[1]

My connection with the army aided materially in weaning
me from home, though few youths had as many temptations
to return to the paternal roof as myself. There were
my beloved mother and my grandmother, in the first place,
both of whom doted on me as on an only son. Then aunt
Mary almost equally shared in my affections. But, I had
two sisters, one of whom was older, and the other younger
than myself. The eldest, who was called Anneke, after our
dear mother, was even six years my senior, and was married
early in the war to a gentleman of the name of Kettletas.
Mr. Kettletas was a person of very good estate, and made
my sister perfectly happy. They had several children, and
resided in Dutchess, which was an additional reason for my
mother's choosing that county for her temporary residence.
I regarded Anneke, or Mrs. Kettletas, much as all youths
regard an elder sister, who is affectionate, feminine and respectable;
but little Katrinke, or Kate, was my pet. She,
again, was four years younger than myself; and as I was
just two-and-twenty when the army was disbanded, she of
course was only eighteen. This dear sister was a little,
jumping, laughing, never-quiet, merry thing, when I had
taken my leave of her, in 1781, to join the regiment as an
ensign, as handsome and sweet as a rose-bud, and quite as
full of promise. I remember that old Andries and I used
to pass much of our time in camp, in conversing about our
several pets; he of his niece, and I of my younger sister.
Of course, I never intended to marry, but Kate and I were
to live together; she as my housekeeper and companion,
and I as her elder brother and protector. The one great
good of life with us all was peace, with independence; which
obtained, no one, in our regiment at least, was so little of a
patriot as to doubt of the future. It was laughable to see
with how much gusto and simplicity the old Chainbearer
entered into all these boyish schemes. His niece was an
orphan, it would seem, the only child of an only but a half-sister,
and was absolutely dependent on him for the bread
she put into her mouth. It is true that this niece fared
somewhat better than such a support would seem to promise,
having been much cared for by a female friend of her
mother's, who, being reduced herself, kept a school, and
had thus bestowed on her ward a far better education than

she could ever have got under her uncle's supervision, had
the last possessed the riches of the Van Rensselears, or of
the Van Cortlandts. As has been substantially stated, old
Andries' forte did not lie in education, and they who do not
enjoy the blessings of such a character, seldom duly appreciate
their advantages. It is with the acquisitions of the
mind, as with those of mere deportment and the tastes; we
are apt to undervalue them all, until made familiarly acquainted
with their power to elevate and to enlarge. But
the niece of Andries had been particularly fortunate in
falling into the hands she had; Mrs. Stratton having the
means and the inclination to do all for her, in the way of
instruction, that was then done for any young woman in
New York, as long as she lived. The death of this kind
friend occurring, however, in 1783, Andries was obliged to
resume the care of his niece, who was now thrown entirely
on himself for support. It is true, the girl wished to do
something for herself, but this neither the pride nor the
affection of the old Chainbearer would listen to.

“What can the gal do?” Andries said to me significantly,
one day that he was recounting all these particulars. “She
can't carry chain, though I do believe, Morty, the chilt
has head enough, and figures enough to survey! It would
do your heart good to read the account of her l'arnin' t'at
t'e olt woman used to send me; though she wrote so excellent
a hant herself, t'at it commonly took me a week to
read one of her letters; that is, from `Respected Friend' to
`Humble Sarvent,' as you know them 'ere t'ings go.”

“Excellent hand! Why, I should think, Andries, the
better the hand, the easier one could read a letter.”

“All a mistake. When a man writes a scrawl himself,
it's nat'ral he shoult read scrawls easiest, in his own case.
Now, Mrs. Stratton was home-taught, and would be likely
to get into ways t'at a plain man might find difficult to get
along wit'.”

“Do you think, then, of making a surveyor of your
niece?” I asked, a little pointedly.

“Why, she is hartly strong enough to travel t'rough
the woots, and the callin' is not suitaple to her sex, t'ough
I woult risk her against t'e oldest calculator in t'e province.”

“We call New York a State, now, captain Andries, you
will be so good as to remember.”

“Ay, t'at's true, and I peg the State's parton. Well,
t'ere'll be scrampling enough for t'e land, as soon as the
war is fairly over, and chainbearing will be a sarviceable
callin', once more. Do you know, Morty, they talk of
gifin' all of our line a quantity of land, privates and officers,
which will make me a lantholter again, the very character
in which I started in life. You will inherit acres enough,
and may not care so much apout owning a few hundret,
more or less, but I own the idee is agreeaple enough to
me.”

“Do you propose to commence anew, as a husbandman?”

“Not I; the pusiness never agreet wit' me, or I wit' it.
Put a man may survey his own lot, I suppose, and no offence
to greater scholars. If I get t'e grant t'ey speak of, I shall
set to work and run it out, on my own account, and t'en
we shall see who understants figures, and who don't! If
other people won't trust me, it is no reason I shoult not
trust myself.”

I knew that his having broken down in the more intellectual
part of his calling was a sore point with old Andries,
and I avoided dwelling on this part of the subject. In order
to divert his mind to other objects, indeed, I began to question
him a little more closely than I had ever done before,
on the subject of his niece, in consequence of which expedient
I now learned many things that were new to me.

The name of the Chainbearer's niece was Duss Malbone,
or so he always pronounced it. In the end, I discovered
that Duss was a sort of Dutch diminutive for Ursula. Ursula
Malbone had none of the Coejemans blood in her, notwithstanding
she was Andries' sister's daughter. It seemed that
old Mrs. Coejemans was twice married, her second husband
being the father of Duss' mother. Bob Malbone, as the
Chainbearer always called the girl's father, was an eastern
man, of very good family, but was a reckless spendthrift,
who married Duss the senior, as well as I could learn, for
her property; all of which, as well as that he had inherited
himself, was cleverly gotten rid of within the first ten years
of their union, and a year or two after the girl was born.

Both father and mother died within a few months of each
other, and in a very happy moment as regarded worldly
means, leaving poor little Duss with no one to care for her
but her half-uncle, who was then living in the forest, in his
regular pursuits, and the Mrs. Stratton I have mentioned.
There was a half-brother, Bob Malbone having married
twice, but he was in the army, and had some near female
relation to support out of his pay. Between the Chainbearer
and Mrs. Stratton, with an occasional offering from the brother,
the means of clothing, nourishing and educating the
young woman had been found, until she reached her eighteenth
year, when the death of her female protector threw
her nearly altogether on the care of her uncle. The brother
now did his share, Andries admitted; but it was not much
that he could do. A captain himself, his scanty pay barely
sufficed to meet his own wants.

I could easily see that old Andries loved Duss better than
anything else, or any other person. When he was a little
mellow, and that was usually the extent of his debaucheries,
he would prate about her to me, until the tears came into
his eyes, and once he actually proposed that I should marry
her.

“You woult just suit each other,” the old man added, in
a very quaint, but earnest manner, on that memorable occasion;
“and as for property, I know you care little for
money, and will have enough for half-a-tozen. I swear to
you, captain Littlepage,”—for this dialogue took place only
a few months before we were disbanded, and after I had
obtained a company,—“I swear to you, captain Littlepage,
t'e girl is laughing from morning till night, and would make
one of the merriest companions for an olt soltier that ever
promiset `to honour and opey.' Try her once, lad, and see
if I teceive you.”

“That may do well enough, friend Andries, for an old
soldier, whereas you will remember I am but a boy in
years—”

“Ay, in years; but olt as a soltier, Morty—olt as White
Plains, or '76; as I know from hafin' seen you unter
fire.”

“Well, be it so; but it is the man, and not the soldier,

who is to do the marrying, and I am still a very young
man.”

“You might do worse, take my word for it, Mortaunt,
my dear poy; for Duss is fun itself, and I have often spoken
of you to her, in a way t'at will make the courtship as easy
as carrying a chain, on t'e Jermen Flatts.”

I assured my friend Andries that I did not think of a wife
yet, and that my taste ran for a sentimental and melancholy
young woman, rather than for a laughing girl. The old
Chainbearer took this repulse good-humouredly, though he
renewed the attack at least a dozen times, before the regiment
was disbanded, and we finally separated. I say finally
separated, though it was in reference to our companionship
as soldiers, rather than to our future lives; for I had determined
to give Andries employment myself, should nothing
better offer in his behalf.

Nor was I altogether without the means of thus serving a
friend, when the inclination existed. My grandfather, Herman
Mordaunt, had left me, to come into possession on
reaching the age of twenty-one, a considerable estate, in
what is now Washington county, a portion of our territory
that lies north-east from Albany, and at no great distance
from the Hampshire Grants. This property, of many thousands
of acres in extent, had been partially settled, under
leases, by himself, previously to my birth, and those leases
having mostly expired, the tenants were remaining at will,
waiting for more quiet times to renew their engagements.
As yet, Ravensnest, for so the estate was called, had given
the family little besides expense and trouble; but the land
being good, and the improvements considerable, it was time
to look for some returns for all our outlays. This estate
was now mine in fee, my father having formally relinquished
its possession in my favour the day I attained my majority.
Adjacent to this estate lay that of Mooseridge, which
was the joint property of my father and of his friend major,
or as he was styled in virtue of the brevet rank granted at
the peace, colonel Follock. Mooseridge had been originally
patented by my grandfather, the first general Littlepage,
and old colonel Follock, he who had been slain and scalped
early in the war; but, on the descent of his moiety of the
tenantry in common to Dirck Follock, my grandfather conveyed

his interest to his own son, who, ere long, must become
its owner, agreeably to the laws of nature. This
property had once been surveyed into large lots, but owing
to some adverse circumstances, and the approach of the
troubles, it had never been settled, or surveyed into farms.
All that its owners ever got for it, therefore, was the privilege
of paying the crown its quit-rents; taxes, or reserved
payments of no great amount, it is true, though far more
than the estate had ever yet returned.

While on the subject of lands and tenements, I may as
well finish my opening explanations. My paternal grandfather
was by no means as rich as my father, though the senior,
and of so much higher military rank. His property, or
neck, of Satanstoe, nevertheless, was quite valuable; more
for the quality of the land and its position, than for its extent.
In addition to this, he had a few thousand pounds at
interest; stocks, banks, and monied corporations of all
kinds, being then nearly unknown among us. His means
were sufficient for his wants, however, and it was a joyful
day when he found himself enabled to take possession of
his own house again, in consequence of Sir Guy Carleton's
calling in all of his detachments from Westchester. The
Morrises, distinguished whigs as they were, did not get back
to Morrisania until after the evacuation, which took place
November 25, 1783; nor did my father return to Lilacsbush
until after that important event. The very year my
grandfather saw Satanstoe, he took the smallpox in camp,
and died.

To own the truth, the place found us all very poor, as
was the case with almost everybody in the country but a
few contractors. It was not the contractors for the American
army that were rich; they fared worse than most people;
but the few who furnished supplies to the French did
get silver in return for their advances. As for the army, it
was disbanded without any reward but promises, and payment
in a currency that depreciated so rapidly that men
were glad to spend recklessly their hard-earned stock lest
it should become perfectly valueless in their hands. I have
heard much, in later years, of the celebrated Newburgh
Letters, and of the want of patriotism that could lead to
their having been written. It may not have been wise, considering

the absolute want of the country, to have contemplated
the alternative towards which those letters certainly
cast an oblique glance, but there was nothing in either their
execution, or their drift, which was not perfectly natural for
the circumstances. It was quite right for Washington to
act as he did in that crisis, though it is highly probable that
even Washington would have felt and acted differently, had
he nothing but the keen sense of his neglected services,
poverty and forgetfulness, before him, in the perspective.
As for the young officer who actually wrote the letters, it is
probable that justice will never be done to any part of his
conduct, but that which is connected with the elegance of
his diction. It is very well for those who do not suffer to
prate about patriotism; but a country is bound to be just,
before it can lay a high moral claim to this exclusive devotedness
to the interests of the majority. Fine words cost
but little, and I acknowledge no great respect for those who
manifest their integrity principally in phrases. This is said
not in the way of personal apology, for our regiment did
not happen to be at Newburgh, at the disbandment; if it
had, I think my father's influence would have kept us from
joining the malcontents; but, at the same time, I fancy his
and my own patriotism would have been much strengthened
by the knowledge that there were such places as Satanstoe,
Lilacsbush, Mooseridge and Ravensnest. To return to the
account of our property.

My grandfather Mordaunt, notwithstanding his handsome
bequests to me, left the bulk of his estate to my mother.
This would have made the rest of the family rich, had it
not been for the dilapidations produced by the war. But
the houses and stores in town were without tenants who
paid, having been mainly occupied by the enemy; and interest
on bonds was hard to collect from those who lived
within the British lines.

In a word, it is not easy to impress on the mind of one
who witnesses the present state of the country, its actual
condition in that day. As an incident that occurred to myself,
after I had regularly joined the army for duty, will
afford a lively picture of the state of things, I will relate it,
and this the more willingly, as it will be the means of introducing
to the reader an old friend of the family, and one
who was intimately associated with divers events of my

own life. I have spoken of Jaaf, a slave of my father's,
and one of about his own time of life. At the time to which
I allude, Jaaf was a middle-aged, grey-headed negro, with
most of the faults, and with all the peculiar virtues of the
beings of his condition and race. So much reliance had
my mother, in particular, on his fidelity, that she insisted
on his accompanying her husband to the wars, an order
that the black most willingly obeyed; not only because he
loved adventure, but because he especially hated an Indian,
and my father's earliest service was against that portion of
our foes. Although Jaaf acted as a body-servant, he carried
a musket, and even drilled with the men. Luckily, the
Littlepage livery was blue turned up with red, and of a very
modest character; a circumstance that almost put Jaaf in
uniform, the fellow obstinately refusing to wear the colours
of any power but that of the family to which he regularly
belonged. In this manner, Jaaf had got to be a queer mixture
of the servant and the soldier, sometimes acting in the
one capacity, and sometimes in the other, having at the
same time not a little of the husbandman about him; for
our slaves did all sorts of work.

My mother had made it a point that Jaaf should accompany
me, on all occasions when I was sent to any distance
from my father. She naturally enough supposed I had the
most need of the care of a faithful attendant, and the black
had consequently got to be about half transferred to me.
He evidently liked this change, both because it was always
accompanied by change of scene and the chances for new
adventures, and because it gave him an opportunity of re-lating
many of the events of his youth; events that had got
to be worn threadbare, as narratives, with his “ole masser,”
but which were still fresh with his “young.”

On the occasion to which there is allusion, Jaaf and I
were returning to camp, from an excursion of some length,
on which I had been sent by the general of division. This
was about the time the continental money made its final fall
to nothing, or next to nothing, it having long stood at about
a hundred dollars for one. I had provided myself with a
little silver, and very precious it was, and some thirty or
forty thousand dollars of “continental,” to defray my travelling
expenses; but, my silver was expended, and the
paper reduced to two or three thousand dollars, when it

would require the whole stock of the latter to pay for Jaaf's
and my own dinner; nor were the innkeepers very willing
to give their time and food for it at any price. This vacuum
in my purse took place when I had still two long days' ride
before me, and in a part of the country where I had no acquaintances
whatever. Supper and rest were needed for
ourselves, and provender and stabling for our horses. Everything
of the sort was cheap enough to be sure, but absolute
want of means rendered the smallest charge impracticable
to persons in our situation. As for appealing to the patriotism
of those who lived by the way-side, it was too late
in the war; patriotism being a very evanescent quality of
the human heart, and particularly addicted to sneaking, like
compassion, behind some convenient cover, when it is to be
maintained at any pecuniary cost. It will do for a capital,
in a revolution, or a war for the first six months perhaps;
but gets to be as worthless as continental money itself, by
the end of that period. One militia draft has exhausted the
patriotism of thousands of as disinterested heroes as ever
shouldered muskets.

“Jaap”—I asked of my companion, as we drew near to
the hamlet where I intended to pass the night, and the comforts
of a warm supper on a sharp frosty evening, began to
haunt my imagination—“Jaap, how much money may you
have about you?”[2]

“I, Masser Mordaunt!—Golly! but dat a berry droll
question, sah!”

“I ask, because my own stock is reduced to just one
York shilling, which goes by the name of only a ninepence
in this part of the world.”

“Dat berry little, to tell 'e trut', sah, for two gentleum,
and two large, hungry hosses. Berry little, indeed, sah!
I wish he war' more.”

“Yet, I have not a copper more. I gave one thousand
two hundred dollars for the dinner and baiting and oats,
at noon.”

“Yes, sah — but, dat conternental, sah, I supposes — no
great t'ing, a'ter all.”

“It 's a great thing in sound, Jaap, but not much when
it comes to the teeth, as you perceive. Nevertheless, we
must eat and drink, and our nags must eat too — I suppose
they may drink, without paying.”

“Yes, sah — dat true 'nough, yah — yah — yah”—how
easily that negro laughed! — “But 'e cider wonnerful good
in dis part of 'e country, young masser; just needer sweet
nor sour — den he strong as 'e jackass.”

“Well, Jaap, how are we to get any of this good cider,
of which you speak?”

“You t'ink, sah, dis part of 'e country been talk to much
lately 'bout Patty Rism and 'e country, sah?”

“I am afraid Patty has been overdone here, as well as in
most other counties.”

I may observe here, that Jaap always imagined the beautiful
creature he had heard so much extolled, and commended
for her comeliness and virtue, was a certain young
woman of this name, with whom all congress was unaccountably
in love at the same time.

“Well, den, sah, dere no hope, but our wits. Let me be
masser to-night, and you mind ole Jaap, if he want good
supper. Jest ride ahead, Masser Mordaunt, and give he
order like general Littlepage son, and leave it all to ole
Jaap.”

As there was not much to choose, I did ride on, and soon
ceased to hear the hoofs of the negro's horse at my heels.
I reached the inn an hour ere Jaap appeared, and was
actually seated at a capital supper before he rode up, as one
belonging only to himself. Jaap had taken off the Littlepage
emblems, and had altogether a most independent air.
His horse was stabled alongside of mine, and I soon found
that he himself was at work on the remnants of my supper,
as they retreated towards the kitchen.

A traveller of my appearance was accommodated with
the best parlour, as a matter of course; and, having appeased
my appetite, I sat down to read some documents
that were connected with the duty I was on. No one could
have imagined that I had only a York shilling, which is a
Pennsylvania “levy,” or a Connecticut “ninepence,” in
my purse; for my air was that of one who could pay for
all he wanted; the certainty that, in the long run, my host

could not be a loser, giving me a proper degree of confidence.
I had just got through with the documents, and was thinking
how I should employ the hour or two that remained until
it would be time to go to bed, when I heard Jaap tuning his
fiddle in the bar-room. Like most negroes, the fellow had
an ear for music, and had been indulged in his taste, until
he played as well as half the country fiddlers that were to
be met.

The sound of a fiddle in a small hamlet, of a cool October
evening, was certain of its result. In half an hour, the
smiling landlady came to invite me to join the company,
with the grateful information I should not want for a partner,
the prettiest girl in the place having come in late, and
being still unprovided for. On entering the bar-room, I was
received with plenty of awkward bows and curtsies, but with
much simple and well-meaning hospitality. Jaap's own
salutations were very elaborate, and altogether of a character
to prevent the suspicion of our ever having met before.

The dancing continued for more than two hours with
spirit, when the time admonished the village maidens of the
necessity of retiring. Seeing an indication of the approaching
separation, Jaap held out his hat to me, in a respectful
manner, when I magnificently dropped my shilling into it,
in a way to attract attention, and passed it round among
the males of the party. One other gave a shilling, two
clubbed and actually produced a quarter, several threw in
sixpences, or fourpence-halfpennies, and coppers made up
the balance. By way of climax, the landlady, who was
good-looking and loved dancing, publicly announced that
the fiddler and his horse should go scot free, until he left
the place. By these ingenious means of Jaap's, I found in
my purse next morning seven-and-sixpence in silver, in addition
to my own shilling, besides coppers enough to keep a
negro in cider for a week.

I have often laughed over Jaap's management, though I
would not permit him to repeat it. Passing the house of a
man of better condition than common, I presented myself to
its owner, though an entire stranger to him, and told him
my story. Without asking any other confirmation than my
word, this gentleman lent me five silver dollars, which answered

all my present purposes, and which, I trust, it is
scarcely necessary to say, were duly repaid.

It was a happy hour to me when I found myself a titular
major, but virtually a freeman, and at liberty to go where I
pleased. The war had offered so little of variety or adventure,
since the capture of Cornwallis and the pendency of
the negotiations for peace, that I began to tire of the army;
and now that the country had triumphed, was ready enough
to quit it. The family, that is to say, my grandmother,
mother, aunt Mary and my youngest sister, took possession
of Satanstoe in time to enjoy some of its delicious fruits, in
the autumn of 1782; and early in the following season,
after the treaty was signed, but while the British still remained
in town, my mother was enabled to return to Lilacsbush.
As consequences of these early movements, my
father and myself, when we joined the two families, found
things in a better state than might otherwise have been the
case. The Neck was planted, and had enjoyed the advantage
of a spring's husbandry, while the grounds of Lilacsbush
had been renovated and brought in good condition, by
the matured and practised taste of my admirable mother.
And she was admirable, in all the relations of life! A lady
in feeling and habits, whatever she touched or controlled
imbibed a portion of her delicacy and sentiment. Even the
inanimate things around her betrayed this feature of their
connection with one of her sex's best qualities. I remember
that colonel Dirck Follock remarked to me one day that we
had been examining the offices together, something that was
very applicable to this trait in my mother's character, while
it was perfectly just.

“No one can see Mrs. Littlepage's kitchen, even,” he
said, “alt'ough she never seems to enter it, without perceiving,”—
or `perceifing,' as he pronounced the word,—
“that it is governed by a lady. There are plenty of kitchens
that are as clean, and as large, and as well furnished, but it
is not common to see a kitchen that gives the same ideas
of a good taste in the table, and about the household.”

If this was true as to the more homely parts of the habitation,
how much truer was it when the distinction was
carried into the superior apartments! There, one saw my
mother in person, and surrounded by those appliances which

denote refinement, without, however, any of that elaborate
luxury of which we read in older countries. In America,
we had much fine china, and a good deal of massive plate,
regular dinner-services excepted, previously to the revolution,
and my mother had inherited more than was usual of
both; but the country knew little of that degree of domestic
indulgence which is fast creeping in among us, by means
of its enormously increased commerce.

Although the fortunes of the country had undergone so
much waste, during seven years of internal warfare, the
elasticity of a young and vigorous nation soon began to repair
the evil. It is true that trade did not fully revive, nor
its connecting interests receive their great impulse, until
after the adoption of the Constitution, which brought the
States under a set of common custom-house regulations;
nevertheless, one year brought about a manifest and most
beneficent change. There was now some security in making
shipments, and the country immediately felt the consequences.
The year 1784 was a sort of breathing time for
the nation, though long ere it was past the bone and sinew
of the republic began to make themselves apparent and felt.
Then it was that, as a people, this community first learned
the immense advantage it had obtained by controlling its
own interests, and by treating them as secondary to those
of no other part of the world. This was the great gain of
all our labours.