Gambar halaman
PDF
ePub

lies whose names were Bailey living in Fishkill Village, one a great grandfather of the writer, who was born in the town of Westchester, Westchester county, N. Y., who purchased a farm in Fishkill containing 214 acres of land. The farm is now owned by Charles C. Rogers and William M. Baxter. The old homestead house was where Baxter now resides, and was replaced by the present edifice a few years ago. The other Bailey left the city of New York when the British took possession of it, and sought a temporary shelter in Fishkill in a small building near the highway close to where Mr. Rogers now resides. This Bailey was a cutler by trade, who made or repaired the sword of Gen. Washington while he resided there, and stamped his name upon it, "J. Bailey, Fishkill." Historians who have written upon the subject, have said that the Bailey with which family I am connected, made the sword, not knowing that there was another Bailey, whose name was John, living in Fishkill Village during the revolution. This cutler left Fishkill after the war, and returned to his home in New York.

The subaltern's trial took place in what was known of late years as the Union Hotel. The same building and room in which he was tried remained the same until the great fire in December, 1873, when the building was totally destroyed. In time of war trials of prisoners soon terminate, and the subaltern's case was quickly disposed of. As nothing further was proved than as above stated by Depeyster, the prisoner was released on parole. The subaltern, after thanking Washington for the kindness shown him, returned with Depeyster, who invited him to remain with him

until he should get his final discharge, which invitation, the subaltern gladly accepted. When Katrina saw him returning with her father, and learned from him that he was discharged on parole, she was much pleased, for her anxiety for his release was very great, and it afforded her unspeakable consolation to see him once more, not a prisoner, but a guest in her father's house. Depeyster's son, who fled with his mother and sisters when the British fleet sailed up the river, had not returned, and Depeyster needed his son's assistance very much, particularly in his mill, for he had the supervision of his books, and the accounts of all transactions in buying and selling was mainly done through him. The subaltern, learning this fact, volunteered to assist him. Depeyster soon found that his services were indispensable in the absence of his son, for he rendered him every assistance in keeping his accounts accurate, and being competent, he soon won the admiration of Depeyster and all who had intercourse with him. The subaltern began to feel more contented at his new home, and after business hours had passed, and seeing that the mill was safely locked, he always spent his leisure hours with Depeyster and Katrina, who tried to make everything pleasant for him, and long after Depeyster had retired for the night, Katrina and the subaltern would occupy the parlor alone, and their attachment for each other grew more ardent, and their love intense, as evening after evening glided away.

The winter of 1780 was the coldest that had ever occurred in this country. The cold weather set in early, accompanied with snow storms of such depth

that the fences were buried under the snow, and the highways were literally blocked and impassable. For forty-two days it did not thaw on the sunniest side of a building, and the river froze to such an extent that loaded teams crossed the river at New York city to the opposite side, and the bay that extends to Staten Island, a distance of nine miles, was covered with ice strong enough to enable the British to transport their cannon across it in safety. The suffering through Fishkill was terrible, on account of the great depth of snow, rendering it almost impossible for the inhabitants to get to the mill. What little traveling there was through the country, was by roads on top of the snow, over fences, taking the nearest route to any given point. This road had to be beaten hard before it could be much used, and if the traveler deviated the least from the track, his sleigh and horses would instantly sink to such depth in the snow that he would have great difficulty in getting them again on the track. The difficulty in passing and repassing could only be overcome by detaching the horses from the sleigh and leading them singly by, then hitching them again to the sleigh with ropes, drawing the sleighs past each other on the beaten track. The snow hardened by the severe cold, formed a crust on the earth sufficient, with the aid of snow shoes, to bear the weight of the heaviest man. This gave the inhabitants the advantage to shorten the distance by taking the nearest route to Depeyster's mill. The frost was so intense that it was almost impossible for Depeyster to stop the ice from clogging the wheels of his mill, and enable him to grind for the suffering inhabitants,

who came from far and near, crossing the river from Orange county with their hand sleds loaded with bags of grain. The subaltern and Pompey were constantly at work with their axes, cutting the ice that would form through the night, in order to start the mill as soon as possible the following morning, and often they would be assisted by many whose families were almost starving, so as to enable them to return home with their grist to satisfy the cravings of hunger.

But the long dreary winter gradually passed away, and the genial spring returned once more, dissolving the snow, and breaking the icy barriers which had so long held sway, and driving old Boreas to his icy den, covering the earth once more with verdure and beauty. Depeyster's family had returned, and the political horizon wore a more cheering aspect. The war cloud which had been so long hanging over Fishkill, had disappeared. Washington had removed his army to the South, where the war was now raging, and it inspired hope in Depeyster that the struggle which his country was passing through would finally terminate in her independence. The subaltern had received his final discharge from Washington, but he remained at Depeyster's. For two years he had resided there, and had shared with him all the dangers and trials when his family was away; had assisted him in his business transactions in the absence of his son; and now Depeyster felt under obligations for services rendered by him, yet he had not surmised that an attachment had been formed between his daughter and the subaltern, which would terminate in his asking for her in marriage. Depeyster's love for Katrina was most ardent; she

had remained with him in time of peril; she had shared with him all the dangers and hardships which they had been exposed to; and with him was willing at any time to lay down her life on the altar of their country.

It was a beautiful summer's evening, and the roses and the violets were in bloom; the geraniums never looked more beautiful around the Depeyster mansion. The ivy and honey-suckles were climbing the porch, the terraces, and the ornamental trees, The silvery moonbeams stole softly through the narrow openings of the trees, and in the windows of the parlor where sat Katrina and the subaltern. The old family clock had long told the hour of twelve, when the subaltern had something to say to Katrina, and yet he delayed. The large candles on the centre-table had burnt down to the sockets in their sticks, and the light streaks of day were breaking up the dark clouds in the east. Pompey and Dinah were already up, preparing for breakfast, when the subaltern offered his heart and hand to Katrina, which was at once accepted. The subaltern, overburdened with joy, hastened to his bedroom, and threw himself on his couch, hardly realizing his situation. Ecstatic joy pervaded his soul, and with no inclination to sleep, it seemed to him that his life for the future would be one of continual sunshine. He had yet to get the consent of Katrina's parents. This he thought would be no easy task, for they were staunch whigs, and ardently attached to their country, while he was a British officer, intending soon to return to his native land. Would they be willing, thought he, for their daughter to leave her native land, her parents, sisters and brothers, and part with them, perhaps never

« SebelumnyaLanjutkan »