Part 6
On Dec. 19th, Van Arsdale's service ended, and he returned home to spend the winter; with a good conscience, doubtless, but still with empty pockets! Yet all looked bright and hopeful, great success had crowned our arms in other quarters; the proud Cornwallis had been humbled, and his splendid army captured. On the opening of 1782, measures were concerted to follow up these successes; the army was maintained, and a body of levies were also raised in this State to afford the usual protection to our frontiers. In these Van Arsdale enlisted on the 27th of April, in the company of Capt. John L. Hardenburgh, of Col. Frederick Weissenfels' regiment. Five days after, he was made sergeant, and served as such during that campaign, holding the place of first or orderly sergeant from Sept. 24th. But the season passed in inactivity, and the magazine of provisions at Marbletown being exhausted, the levies were disbanded, and on December 28th, Van Arsdale received an honorable and final discharge from the army. He laid away his musket with a lighter heart than on any former occasion. True he and his fellow soldiers _had received no pay during the last three campaigns_! But he had escaped the thousand perils of the service and was permitted to see this grievous war practically closed and independence secured. Recompense ample, yet the State was just to its brave defenders, and soon afterwards paid them for this service, and also those who had been prisoners of war, for their time from the day they were captured to the day of their return from captivity.[32]
There were more times than one, Van Arsdale being at home, when the farmhouse at Neelytown, upon sudden news of a victory, echoed with cheers long and loud, and witnessed a lively jig, enacted then and there impromptu, with all his early zest for the dance; but how buoyant were his spirits now, the bitterness of the struggle being past and the final victory achieved, while the future seemed radiant with promise.
The ensuing winter, spent with his brother, was one of unusual gayety, and at a social party given by his old friend, Alexander Bodle, then married and living at La Grange, he first met with his future wife, Mary Crawford, a most amiable girl, six years his junior. Escorting her home in his sleigh, the acquaintance ripened--the bans were published in the church at Goshen, of which her father, David Crawford, was an elder; and the Rev. Nathan Ker married them at the hospitable farmhouse, in Walkill, on the 16th of June, 1783. Van Arsdale now left his brother's, where he had experienced a kindness almost parental, and with his bride, who ever proved herself a discreet companion, went to keeping house in New Windsor. He had found an occupation suited to his robust and active temperament. The owner of the Black Prince, a vessel used during the war as a gunboat, but now fitted up for the more peaceful service of conveying passengers and freight on the Hudson, wanted Van Arsdale as a partner. The latter assented, he always loved the water; it was moreover an opportunity to begin life respectably with his Polly, for a living was not so easily secured just after the war, when the country was impoverished, money scarce and times hard, while he saw many of his old comrades in arms wanting employment. So he donned the tarpaulin and sailor jacket, and entered on a calling in which he was engaged when the incident of November 25th, 1783, occurred; and at which he became a veteran, sustaining the character of a safe and skillful captain, and an honest and noble-hearted man. Affable to and careful of the passengers who patronized his packet; this in itself was an advertisement, and many making their annual visit to the City, either for pleasure or to sell their dairies or other farm produce, or to purchase goods (for the day of railroads was not yet), much preferred sailing with "Captain John." His passenger list was full on the trip preceding Evacuation Day, but of that memorable day we need add nothing; and the sequel of Capt. Van Arsdale's life will be briefly told.
After four years the Captain closed his business relations with New Windsor, and removed to New York, taking command of the "Democrat" for Col. Henry Rutgers, and where, with the exception of brief residences on Long Island and in Westchester County, before his final return to the City in 1811, he made his home for the rest of his life. He was granted the freedom of the City, April 1st, 1789; and shortly after engaged in a different calling, but five years later resumed the old one, and successively sailed (sometimes as part owner), the Deborah--named for his mother--the Packet, Neptune, Rising-Sun, Ambition, Venus and Hunter. It was while sailing the Hunter, during the last war with England, that in coming out of Mamaroneck Harbor (September 17th, 1813), he narrowly escaped capture by one of the enemy's vessels; a market boat which they had seized and manned, to more easily entrap ours. The Captain thought they acted strangely, but discovered their real character only when they bore down and rounded to, with intent to board him. But the Captain was too quick for them. Ordering the passengers below, he instantly tacked about, the bullets now flying thick around him, and shouting to the foe to _fire away, it was not the first time they had wasted powder on him_, he was soon beyond their reach, and got in safely, with no other damage than sails riddled, and a few holes in the hull. The people ashore, having heard the firing and alarmed for the Captain's safety, were overjoyed, and came out in small boats to help him in. There were several little incidents connected with this adventure. A brave woman on board, a Mrs. Wallace, insisted upon rowing with a sweep, till fairly forced to desist and go below. The cabin-boy when told to go down, demurred, saying, "Captain, when your head is off, I'll take the helm." A few days before, the Captain going into the country to buy produce, had told his son David to keel up the vessel and give it a coat of tallow, which preserved the timbers, kept her tight and helped her sailing. David obeyed orders, but so thoroughly and well, that he ran up a big score for tallow at the store, to the astonishment of his father when he came to see the bill, and who gave David a round reprimand for his extravagance. But after the trial of speed with the enemy, "David," said the Captain, patting his son on the shoulder, "we hadn't a bit too much tallow on to-day!"
Speaking of David, he was in one respect "a chip of the old block," he relished a joke next the best. And so it happened on an occasion, that the schooner lay at Cow Harbor, loading with wood, when a Montauk Indian came aboard, asking a passage to New York. Now the Captain had a kind heart; but had sworn eternal enmity to the whole race of aborigines. His ears filled with recitals of Indian outrages, when scouting on the frontiers; an eye-witness of the cruelties inflicted on peaceable communities by the firebrand and the tomahawk; yes, his soul harrowed at the sight of innocent victims, as they lay in their gore, murdered and scalped; if there was on earth an object at sight of which his very blood boiled, it was an _Indian_! David knew it well, yet the young rogue sent the Indian into the cabin to see the Captain. "What do you want?" asked the latter gruffly. "To go to New York, Captain," said the poor native. "Get out of this, you Indian dog," was his only answer, while the Captain's cudgel at his heels, as he scrambled up the companionway, sent the applicant off at a much livelier gait than "an Indian trot." But then it was that the joke turned on David, when he had to meet the scathing question,--How he _dared_ to send an _Indian_ into the cabin to him!
But we said the Captain himself enjoyed a joke. In 1821, he and Squire Daniel Riker took a friendly tour, in the latter's gig, as far as Orange County; Mr. V. to see his kindred and acquaintances, and one of his daughters being also there on a visit. Concluding to go as far as Monticello, they set out from Bloomingburgh, the Squire and Deborah in the gig, and the Captain on horseback. Shortly before reaching the Neversink River, the latter stopped to have a shoe set, but told the Squire to drive on and he would soon follow. Now the Squire was a spruce widower of fifty, but Deborah just out of her teens. So on they went reaching the toll-gate in high glee and at a lively pace. The inquisitive gate-keeper had noticed the speed at which they rode, and overheard a tell-tale remark let fall by the Squire, that by driving fast they might reach the Neversink bridge _before the Captain could catch them_! Soon the Captain arrived in seeming haste, and reigning his horse at the gate, inquired of the keeper if he had seen a runaway couple that way; an old man eloping with his daughter. "Yes, yes," said the man, "they just passed, and were hurrying, to reach the bridge before you could catch them; but you'll do it if you're only smart." "Quick, quick, hand me my change," said the Captain, and spurring his horse, on he went, almost bursting before he could give vent to his laughter; while the gate-keeper ran in to tell about the wonderful elopement. But on their return, there was a hearty laugh all round, as the gate-keeper took in the situation, and the Captain, with a smirk, remarked, "You see, I caught the runaways." The joke spread, to the merriment of all, but none enjoyed telling it more than the Captain.
In 1816, having quit his old occupation the previous year, and being now sixty years of age, Capt. Van Arsdale was appointed Wood Inspector in the First Ward, a post he held for twenty years; and which he had previously enjoyed for a short time, in 1812, under a commission from De Witt Clinton, then Mayor. Daily at Peck Slip, he was seen, with his measuring rod in hand, busy at his avocation; till "Uncle John" became one of the fixed features of the locality. He continued here, indeed, till the use of coal had so far supplanted that of wood, that business dwindled to nothing, and he resigned his office in disgust. He was made a member of the "Independent Veteran Corps of Heavy Artillery," Oct. 6th, 1813. This Corps was organized for the special defense of the City of New York, and for the whole period Mr. Van Arsdale was connected with it (except a short interval), was commanded by Capt. George W. Chapman. Their uniform was a navy blue coat and pantaloons, white vest, black stock, a black feather surmounted red, black hat, and cockade, bootees and side arms yellow mounted. Capt. Van Arsdale took great interest in the corps, rarely if ever missed a parade, and in 1814, for over three months, ending December 4th, was in active service guarding the Arsenal in Elm street, a plot being suspected to blow up the building with its 14,000 stand of arms. On Nov. 25th, 1835, he was promoted to the next position to the commandant, that of First Captain-Lieutenant.
Capt. Van Arsdale had now reached his eighty-first year, he had survived his companion four years, his mental faculties were still good, but his strength was failing; yet he attended to business till near the last. But borne down by the weight of years, a short illness closed the scene, and the veteran gently passed away, August 14th, 1836, at his residence 134 Delancey street. He was interred the next day in the cemetery in First street, with the honors of war, by the corps in which he had held command; the Napoleon Cadets, Capt. Charles, acting as a guard of honor, and a concourse of citizens paying their last respects. His remains now rest in Cypress Hills Cemetery.[33]
In person Mr. Van Arsdale was of medium height, stoutly built, erect, and elastic of foot even till old age. Always neat in his person and dress; we recall his good-natured chiding, when, an urchin, running in to see Grandpa, heated from our play, and collar, boylike, well sweated down;--"Go home, you little rascal," he would say, "You've no collar to your shirt." A democrat of the old school, he was pronounced in his opinions, and no way sparing of opponents. It was in the autumn of 1834, that a friend asked him how the party which that year took the name of _Whig_, got it. "Got it," said the old man, his face kindling with honest indignation, "Smiley, they got it as their fathers, the Cowboys of the Revolution, got their beef,--_they stole it!_" The Captain was then visiting friends in Sullivan County, and was riding out to see his old war-chum Sears. They met on the road, when Mr. V. springing from the wagon, Sears instantly recognized him, and overcome with emotion, threw his arms around him and burst into tears! How flushed up the faded memories of camp and battle scenes, and dismal prison life; verily a picture for the limner. At this time also, the Captain had the pleasure of visiting Mr. Hugh Lindsey, who was captured with him at Fort Montgomery; he died shortly after Van Arsdale's return. But we have done. The kind father,--filial affection still cherishes his memory; the true friend,--alas, but few survive to embalm the friendship so long sundered; the worthy citizen, whose heart was ever open to the poor and suffering around him,--let it suffice that the savor of good deeds is immortal! But more fitting to close this imperfect tribute to his worth are the apt words of the burial orders, recalling the salient fact in Capt. Van Arsdale's life,--"A tried Soldier of the Revolution!"
FOOTNOTES:
[11] ARSDALE was formerly pronounced as if written _aurs-daul_; hence the various modes of spelling it to express the Dutch pronunciation by English letters, as _Osdoll_, etc. But the growing disposition to correct such departures by resuming the original form of surnames, leads us to hope for a reformation in this case also, especially as a large part of the family have held to the form which early obtained.
[12]
[Illustration]
SIMON JANSEN VAN ARSDALEN, the grandfather of Stoffel, (in English, Christopher,) was the common ancestor of all in this country bearing the name of _Van Arsdale_, or its modification, _Van Osdoll_, which latter preserves the Dutch pronunciation. He was born in Holland in 1629, of an ancient Helvetian family, emigrated to this country in 1653, and settled in Flatlands, L.I., where he married Peternelle, daughter of Claes (or Nicholas) Wyckoff. He acquired property, was a magistrate and repeatedly chosen an elder of the church, and lived to be over four score years of age. He had, besides daughters, two sons, Cornelius and John, both of whom inherited their father's virtues and were prominent in civil and church affairs. Each of these had six sons (Cornelius had _Derick_, _John_, _Simon_, _Philip_, _Abraham_ and _Jacobus_ or _James_; and John had _Simon_, _Stoffel_, _Nicholas_, _Jurian_, or _Uriah_, _John_ and _Cornelius_), most of whom (except Nicholas who lived in Jamaica, L. I.,) settled about the Raritan in New Jersey, whence some removed into Pennsylvania; they were as a family, remarkably attached to the church and to the elder Frelinghuysens. John, first named, married, 1695, Lammetie, daughter of Stoffel Probasko, lived for some years in Gravesend, but died in the town of Jamaica, about 1756, and as will be seen was the father of Stoffel, named in the text. The family has been very prolific, and has furnished to society many capable business men, besides physicians, clergymen, bankers, etc. Of these was the late Dr. Peter Van Arsdale, of this city.
[13] ARENT TEUNISSEN, great grandfather of Magdalena Van Hengelen, came out to this country from Hengelen (now Hengelo), in the County of Zutphen, in 1653, the same year in which Simon Van Arsdale arrived. He was under engagement to Baron Vander Capelle, to cultivate his lands on Staten Island, but was slain in the Indian massacre of 1655. His son Reynier, was the father of Okie Van Hengelen, named in the text, who left descendants in New Jersey, called _Van Anglen_, of whom was Capt. John Van Anglen, of the Revolution.
[14] Opposite the jail stood, in those days, a public whipping post, stocks, etc., the terror of law-breakers, and by which lesser crimes were expiated. The late Abraham Van Arsdale, born the year of the Soldiers' Riot (and old enough to fly his kite, as he did, from the roof of the prison, while his father kept it), well remembered these instruments of justice, and informed me that he had seen gallows erected and persons executed, in front of the jail. They then hung for _stealing_!
[15] To avoid confusion, we speak here and elsewhere of Orange County as now organized. Previous to 1798, it embraced the present Rockland County, while the town of New Windsor, and all those towns lying to the north of a line running west from the southern boundary of New Windsor belonged to Ulster County. Of course, Little Britain, and the Precinct of Hanover were then in Ulster.
[16] JAMES CLINTON had been colonel of this regiment, till appointed a brigadier general.
[17] Believed to have been James Thompson, whose brother John was killed at Fort Montgomery. Others slain in McClaughry's regiment were _Capts._ James Milliken and Jacobus Roosa, _Lieut._ Nathaniel Milliken, and _Privates_ Theophilus Corwin, David Benson, James Gage, David Halliday, etc.
[18] The WEARS, respectable Protestants from the north of Ireland, were noted for longevity. William Wear, their ancestor, dying, his widow with two children, William and Jennie, emigrated to Pennsylvania in 1749, and thence in 1760 to the town of Montgomery. Mrs. Wear died at her daughter's house December 3, 1803, aged 92 years. Her son William, named in the text, resided near Orange Lake, had a numerous family, and attained the age of 97 years. He died November 7, 1828, and was ancestor of William Wear, Esq. Mrs. Van Arsdale was born March 31, 1746, as maintained by her brother, who was much the oldest, and hence was in her 100th year at her decease, September 17, 1845. Her husband, Tunis, died April 9, 1813, aged 67 years. This worthy pair united with the Walkill Church in 1782. Mrs. V. was a woman of remarkable energy, and retained her faculties till the last, almost perfectly. Her memory extended back to the closing events in the life of Steffel Van Arsdale, her husband's grandfather, and she lived to see his descendants of the sixth generation.
[19] The 52d and 27th Regiments, the Royal American Regiment, Col. Beverly Robinson, the New York Volunteers, Major Grant, and Emerick's Provincial Chasseurs.
[20] Grenadiers and Light Infantry, the 26th and 63d Regiments, one company of the 71st Highlanders, one troop of dismounted dragoons, and Hessian Chasseurs.
[21] The Royal Fusileers and Hessian Regiment of Trumback.
[22] This refers only to the final assault; the enemy fired upon our people both in the preliminary skirmishes and after they were masters of the forts. J. R.
[23] JUDGE BODLE was born only a stone's throw from the Clinton homestead, in Little Britain (being a second cousin to the Clintons); but at the time of the battle was a farmer on the Walkill. The distance made him late, and he reached the vicinity of the forts only to learn that the enemy had possession. Next morning, going home, he suddenly met Claudius Smith, the noted Tory robber. They knew each other. Bodle was perplexed, but putting on a bold front, approached Claudius, who seemed very friendly. After inquiring the news from the river, Smith said he had to go away, but added: "Mr. Bodle, you are weary, go to my house yonder and ask my wife for some breakfast, and say that I sent you." Seeming to accept his offer, but suspecting a trick, Bodle steered for home, nor felt quite safe till he reached Chester. Smith was a bold, accomplished villain, a terror to the people of Orange, and whose career of brigandage has all the air of romance. He was finally hung at Goshen, January 22, 1779. Mr. Bodle was one of the citizens who guarded him while in jail. Smith asked him if he would really shoot him, if a rescue were attempted. Bodle said his duty would compel him to it. "Ah! Bodle, I don't believe you," said Smith. See _Eager's Orange County_, for an account of Smith and his gang, made up in part from an article we wrote many years ago for the "True Sun." But not a fact in that article (save the incident above related), came from Judge Bodle, as Mr. Eager assumes.
[24] JEPTHA LEE, of Lamb's Artillery, was one of those who escaped out of the fort with General James Clinton. He served with John Van Arsdale, under Capt. Faulkner, in 1779, and died in 1855, at Ulysses, N. Y.
[25] COL. MCCLAUGHRY, though a prisoner and sorely wounded, showed the same indomitable spirit as before. Left to suffer three days before his wounds were dressed, in the belief that he could not live, his captors tried to extort information from him, as to our strength. He replied curtly that Washington had a powerful army, and would yet whip them, and he should live to see it! He was soon exchanged, resumed his command and survived the war. He was made an honorary member of the Cincinnati, and lived most respectably upon his farm at Little Britain, till his death in 1790, aged 67 years. He left no children.
GEN. ALLISON, as later styled, was exchanged during the ensuing winter, and took home with him to Gov. Clinton $2,000 in gold, loaned by a good whig on Long Island, to aid the American cause. He died in 1804, at the Drowned Lands, where he resided; leaving a very respectable family and an ample estate. His daughter Sarah married William W. Thompson, and daughter Mary married Dr. William Elmer.
[26] The exceptions were Col. McClaughry, Capt. Humphrey, Lieut. Solomon Pendleton and Ensign John McClaughry, both of Dubois's regiment, and Lieut. John Hunter, of McClaughry's; who were still there Nov. 5th.
[27] They were, besides Wells, Robert Huston, Francis McBride, and William Humphrey, of McClaughry's regiment, and John Brooks, of Woodhull's. Abel Wells sickened and died in the Provost, Dec. 13, 1777. Benjamin Goldsmith and Garret Miller, worthy residents of Smith's Clove in Orange County, deserve notice in this connection. Goldsmith had a valuable horse stolen by Claudius Smith's gang, and some of his neighbors sustained similar losses. Finally a party went out in pursuit of the robbers, but some, including Goldsmith and Miller, fell into the hands of the British, and were sent to the Provost, where both died of smallpox, Miller on the memorable 6th of October, and Goldsmith on the 20th of October, 1777. Goldsmith was the father of Daniel, who was the father of the present Mr. Daniel Goldsmith, of Bloomingrove, and of the late David Goldsmith, of Schuyler Co., N. Y.