Part 4 (1/2)
[Sidenote: _ANTI-RENT TROUBLES._]
The anti-rent troubles which occupied the attention of the state for one hundred and one years began on the Livingston Estate in the Fall of 1751. The tenants first neglected, then refused to pay rent. The boundary line between New York and Ma.s.sachusetts was in dispute, both Provinces claiming this territory; and the malcontents, taking advantage of this to get some sort of t.i.tle to their farms from the ”Committee of the General Court of the Province of Ma.s.sachusetts Bay,”
defied Robert Livingston Jr., the then proprietor, and a hard time he had of it to deal with both the discontented farmers and the government of the adjoining Province, New York being slow to take up the cudgels in his behalf.
From here the trouble spread to the Van Rensselaer and other manors, resulting in riots and small-sized warfare, with now and then the murder of a sheriff on the one side or an anti-renter on the other.
The matter got into state politics and finally, in 1846, the tenants elected their Governor, and in 1852 the Court of Appeals decided in favor of the tenants, and the trouble was laid to rest.
Among the notables of Columbia County was Samuel J. Tilden, who was born and raised here, but who early gravitated to New York City. The local historian also sets great store by the Hon. Elisha Williams who, during the first quarter of the Nineteenth Century, was the bright particular star of the Columbia County Bar.
[Sidenote: _FIRST ”STAGE-WAGGONS”._]
In 1786 the first systematic attempt to run stages over the Post Road appears to have been made by three Columbia County men, Isaac Van Wyck, Talmage Hall and John Kinney, as in that year the state granted to these men the exclusive right ”to erect, set up, carry on and drive stage-waggons” between New York and Albany on the east side of Hudson's River, etc., fare limited to 4 pence per mile, trips once a week. Right here it is interesting to note that in 1866 Lossing wrote of the Hudson River Railway that ”more than a dozen trains each way pa.s.s over portions of the road in the course of twenty-four hours.”
[Sidenote: _NEVIS--CLAREMONT--BLUE STORE._]
Nevis is little more than a cross-roads. Claremont a straggling village of no moment; further on the road crosses the Roeloff Jansen Kill over a bridge that looks as though it must have heard the rumble of many a stage coach.
Some newspaper antiquarian says:--
”Kill seems to be a Low Dutch word of American coinage. I have never found the word kill for brook in Low Dutch or Low German writings. I think they originally p.r.o.nounced it 'kull' (cool), and to a people transplanted from a low country to a mountainous one, where the water of the brooks was cool even in midsummer, the suggestion may be plausible. The Low Dutch have 'vliet' (fleet) for stream. The German for streaming is 'stromen.' Hamburg has its numerous fleets or ca.n.a.ls.
The Low German of the Lunenburger Helde calls a brook a streak or a 'beek.' Note the word 'Beekman.'”
A hundred years or more ago, when they were naming things in these parts, Blue Store was blue store, and they keep up the tradition faithfully to-day. Everything except what nature tints is the favorite color. This was one of the princ.i.p.al stopping places on the Post Road, but it has sadly dwindled since the old days.
[Sidenote: _JOHNSTOWN--RACE PLACE._]
Johnstown contains three Livingston houses, built by various members of this omnipresent family. The one north of the village stands on a commanding hill, and looks from the road like a handsome place. In 1805 there were twenty public houses in this place, even members of the reigning family consenting to take in the sheckels over the bar.
It has been interesting to see the chickens scurry for cover whenever a noisy flock of blackbirds pa.s.ses overhead on its way to the southland. They seemed to think, if chickens think, that all the hawks in christendom were swooping down on their devoted heads, and stood not on the order of their going.
[Sidenote: _COLD NIGHT._]
Race Place is a half mile off the road, but being garnished with a hotel I went there for the night. The village centre consists of two dwellings, two blacksmith shops and the hotel, which carries the legend ”Race Place Hotel, 1700,” and its interior bears out the aged suggestion. The parlor floor has sagged a foot or so, due to the crowds that have a.s.sembled here during past country b.a.l.l.s. The ballroom is on the second floor, where one would naturally expect to find bedrooms, and the proprietor proudly announced that as many as sixty couples had danced here at once; there must have been some hearty b.u.mps during the process. There are three bedrooms tucked away in recesses at the rear. It was my lot to sleep in a feather bed under a mountain of patchwork quilts with never a care for Jack Frost sitting on the window ledge outside. But, oh! what a difference in the morning, when I must climb out of that nice, warm nest to shut the window, catching a sc.r.a.p of conversation in doing so, the burden of which was, ”ice an inch thick.” Think of shaving and was.h.i.+ng in water that has spent the night in such company!
The proprietor of the hotel thinks walking through the country is all right and perfectly safe provided the traveler keeps away from those large hotels where they burn gas. Gas is dangerous. Two of his friends and neighbors went on a visit to Albany and, as he put it, came home in pine boxes. Keep away from gas-lit hotels and you are all right.
The kitchen was the only place in the house where an overcoat was not de rigeur, and there the evening was pa.s.sed with the family. There was much edifying conversation and considerable speculation over a stuffed olive which the daughter of the house had brought home from school; the housewife feared to taste it and the good man had no curiosity to gratify.
[Sidenote: _STONE MILL--CLAVERACK._]
Stone Mill, on Claverack Creek, so named because of the old stone mill built in 1766, is a postoffice, but why, in these days of rural free delivery, is not quite clear, as the miller has but two or three neighbors who live in sight.
[Sidenote: _CLAVERACK._]
Claverack, Clover-reach--the town is one of the oldest--was once the county seat, until Hudson captured the prize. With what scorn must the staid Dutchmen have looked on the hustling Yankees who almost built the greatest city of the region over night.
As early as 1629 the Hollanders looked on this land and found it good.
It was part of the Van Rensselaer grants, this region in time coming to be known as the Lower Manor. The settlers here appear to have come with money and servants, and to have been better provided for than most of those who broke into the wilderness. Early descriptions suggest a land flowing with milk and honey. Deer were so plenty that one could be had from the Indians for a loaf of bread; turkeys, pheasants, quail, hares and squirrels were everywhere; forest trees were festooned with grape vines; blackberries, strawberries, wild plums and nut trees abounded, and the streams were full of most excellent fish.
The soil was fertile, and the community soon became a flouris.h.i.+ng one, and the centre of interest and the county seat. The fine courthouse, erected in 1786 and still standing, was the scene of some notable legal contests, the most memorable being the trial of Harry Croswell, editor of the Hudson Balance, in 1804, charged with libel upon President Jefferson. The prosecution was handled by Ambrose Spencer, Attorney-General, and the newspaper man was defended by William H. Van Ness and Alexander Hamilton, whose eloquence failed to save the accused. In 1805 Hudson became the county seat, and the courthouse was abandoned to private use.