very old, and was childish and feeble, said that he had repeatedly heard her tell the story of the lovers of her youth, and that she firmly believed that some day one or the other would come back and claim her for his bride.

At the commencement of the present century, when what is now Twenty-first street, in New York City, was far out in the country, and was known by no other name than "Love lane," reaching from shore to shore, and lined on either side by great elm trees, it was the scene of many a wicked duel. One of these, however, was planned to take place at New Dorp, but a severe storm prevented it at the time designated. When the parties had got together again they were disappointed in the arrival of the barge which was to bring them down the bay to Staten Island, and so the seconds selected "Love lane."

The principals in this duel were William Coleman, a lawyer and editor of the Evening Post, and Captain Thompson, Harbor Master of New York. A bitter newspaper war was in progress between Coleman, of the Post, and Cheetham, of the American Citizen. Those editors, as many another had done before, as well as since that memorable period, were simply fighting the battles of their political friends, while down in their own hearts there may not have been the slightest personal enmity, until their own private honor was attacked. Captain Thompson, who was a personal friend to Cheetham, insinuated that "Coleman had shown the white feather," and the result was a challenge. William Cullen Bryant, in his "Reminiscenses of the Evening Post," tells this story of this event:

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The twilight of a winter's evening found the parties arrayed against each other in lonely Love lane.' It was cold, there was snow on the ground, and it was nearly dark. A shot or two was exchanged without effect, and then the principals were placed nearer together, that they might see each other better. At length Thompson was heard to cry, I've got it!' and fell headlong on the snow. Coleman and his second hurried away, while the surgeon viewed the bleeding man, examined his wound and said that it was mortal. On learning his fate, Thompson, at the surgeon's suggestion, promised never to divulge the names of the parties, and with a heroism worthy of a holier cause, he kept his word. He was brought, mortally wounded, to his sister's house in town. He was laid at the door, the bell was rung, the family came out, and found him bleeding near his death. He refused to name his antagonist, or to give any account of the affair, declaring that everything which had been done was honorably done, and desired that no attempt should be made to seek out or molest his adversary."

Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton are known to have visited New Dorp and to have stopped at the Rose and Crown, on more than one occasion, between the close of the Revolution and the end of the century. They were both firm believers in the very popular

idea of that day, that "a duel was an affair of honor," and that it was the proper means by which gentlemen should settle their personal difficulties, instead of going into court and being subjected to the "law's delay." They certainly knew all about the duelling ground at the foot of Camp Hill, and it seems reasonable to assume that they, too, have visited the spot and beheld the peaceful scene, which had been desecrated by those whose sad errors were committed long ere their own should shock the world.

Who knows but that the distance over the restless waters of the bay, on that memorable July morning, in 1804, is alone responsible for preventing the occurrence at New Dorp of those scenes which must forever darken the name of Weehawken Heights, and fill with regret and sorrow and pity the heart of every American citizen which appreciates the noble qualities which Burr and Hamilton both possessed? Unlike any other duel ever fought in the land, both fell—one to his grave and the other in the estimation of his countrymen.

We have endeavored to learn the date of the last duel fought at New Dorp, and are convinced that it was the one in which " young Hamilton and Lathrop" participated, which was probably about 1790; and that it was the only one fought here after the departure of the British army from Staten Island. So it may be classed as almost exclusively a military duelling ground.

A short distance from Camp Hill is an old well and the brush-covered remnant of the foundation of a house. We have been informed by old citizens, who have been familiar with these surroundings for upward of seventy years, that the scene has witnessed no change within their recollection; and more than one has expressed the belief that those relics mark the site of one of the historic structures that stood there during the exciting days of the Revolution.

But Camp Hill and its duelling ground form a scene to-day, so peaceful and secluded, that no one would ever judge them of their black deeds. During the preparation of this article we have visited the place when the shadows of eve were lengthening, when the robin, the oriole, and the bobolink were calling and twittering among the leafy branches, when nature in all her matchless beauty had completed her springtime robe of hill and ravine, and when the hum of insect life and fragrance of blossom all combined to form a picture of "peace on earth, good will to man "; yet we did not feel that we stood on hallowed ground. Our mind wandered back through the dim vista of the past, and we recounted the stories of misguided ambition, of wasted heroism, and of the cruel wrongs to loved ones who lived to mourn over the folly of those who fell. But the holy hush of a century of peace, like a benediction from heaven, has rested over its surroundings, so often reddened by human blood; and the footstep of the rambler and the plowshare of the sturdy farmer have alone disturbed the verdure of its soil.

When the final story of the world's cruel wrongs is told-when foe shall meet foe in the presence of the Eternal, to render up an account of the parts they have taken in the struggles on this historic field-may God, in His infinite wisdom, forgive those who mistook wrong for right, and in the heat of passion sinned against every principle that goes to form divine and human law.

CHAPTER XXXII.

INCIDENTS OF THE REVOLUTION.

URING the Revolution there stood a small Holland cottage, built of stone and with long, sloping roof, on or near the spot where the County Alms House is now located. The story is handed down to us that it was occupied by a sturdy patriot whose open hatred for royalty and whose unfriendliness to the British soldiers gave considerable annoyance to Genera! Howe, who directed that a guard be placed upon the premises until some breech should be committed sufficient to warrant his arrest.

The mounted patrol of the Island was under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Simcoe, of the "Queen's Rangers," and it is said that that officer frequently visited the old cottage, not so much to test the loyalty or watch the movements of its owner, as to enjoy the companionship of his beautiful daughter.

During the exciting period following the earnest appeal of Colonel Aaron Burr to General Washington, to besiege the fortifications on Staten Island, especially at "Richmond towne," a detail of Simcoe's mounted men was made daily. Skirmishes frequently occurred near the old cottage, between American troops from New Jersey and the "Rangers" and their native Tory friends.

OLD BARTON HOMESTEAD, AT NEW
DORP.

Built by a Huguenot about 1670.

It was near the close of the war that the severest, and from what we now know, the last skirmish occurred in that vicinity. During a severe storm, and under the cover of intense darkness, a detachment of Americans crossed the Kills, and losing their way, wandered about for some time until attracted by a light in the window of the old cottage. Simcoe's men were lurking about the premises at the time, and listened to the directions given by its occupant concerning the whereabouts of the British soldiery.

As soon as the Americans had departed Simcoe's subordinate entered the cottage and informed the unfortunate man what he had seen and heard, at the same time stating that he had authority to execute him without trial or delay. The man appealed for mercy until he could acquaint General Howe (who was renowned for his kind

heartedness), of the facts, and the daughter prayed for an interview with Colonel Simcoe, who she believed would save her father's life. But justice and mercy were unknown among the "Queen's Rangers,” from the Lieutenant-Colonel down to the humblest private; yet they well suspcted the influence that the girl might exercise under the existing circumstances. As "murder" and As "murder" and "plunder" were ever the watch-words of that organization, there seemed to be no time to lose. The guard drew near, with the exception of the pickets, and with the assistance of evcing Tories all the occupants of the cottage were pinioned to their chairs. The husband and father was taken out to a tree, a rope quickly placed around his neck, and in a few seconds he was suspended from a limb. The tree on which this execution took place stood in front of the old "farmer's house" on the county farm, and we once conversed with an old Staten Islander who remembered it well. Decayed and worm eaten it could no longer bear its own weight, and it fell to the ground in a wind storm that swept over the Island about 1827.

About fifty years ago one of the oldest houses on the Island—a long stone structure-stood near the site of the present residence of Captain Richard Christopher, at West New Brighton. Its last owner and occupant was Nathaniel Britton, Jr. Its owner during the Revolution was a prominent Tory, who had a daughter of great personal attractions. Prior to the war the girl was affianced to a young man named Mersereau, who resided in the vicinity of Holland's Hook.

A young lieutenant attached to the British army admired her very much, and subsequent events proved that he had marked her for his victim. He acquired her acquaintance, greatly to the gratification of her father, and became very assiduous in his attentions. The girl, however, repulsed his advances. After several months' efforts, finding he had utterly failed in impressing her with the honor of his alliance, he resolved to possess himself of her person at all hazards.

A notorious young tory was taken into the confidence of the officer, and they concocted a plot to get possession of the girl. Near Garretsons, on the Richmond road, is a deep ravine, penetrating some distance into Todt Hill. At the farthest extremity of which there is a spring of water; near this, before the war, a hermit had built his hut. When hostilities began he disappeared, but the hut remained. The approach to it was by a foot-path through the dense forest which lined the hills on either side of the ravine.

One evening, according to " Clute's Annals," the young tory called at the home of the girl, and informed her that he had been sent to convey her to the residence of her aunt, near Richmond, who had been taken suddenly ill, and had requested her attendance. Suspecting no evil, and being much attached to her relative, she was soon ready to accompany him. Springing into the wagon which he had