The fact that the early physicians of New Jersey were very skillful, and
patients in that healthful country very scarce, seems to have had the
effect of making some physicians of that day extremely sharp about
business matters. A certain doctor of Rahway had been called upon to
visit a rich man who was in great pain and distress. The doctor having
administered some medicine, the patient very speedily recovered. Some
time after this, the doctor determined to leave Rahway; and the rich man
who had been attended by him with such gratifying results began to be
afraid that he might be taken sick again in the same way. So he went to
the doctor, and requested that before he left, he would give him the
prescription which had seemed to suit his case so admirably.
Doctors seldom approve of their patients taking their treatment into
their own hands; but, after a little consideration, he said he would
furnish the prescription, but that it would cost ten dollars. This quite
astonished the rich man, and at first he refused to pay such a high
price; but, after considering that it might save him many visits from
the new doctor who should come to Rahway, he agreed to pay the price
demanded, and the prescription was written, and delivered to him. When
he reached his home, he thought he would try to make out what this
prescription was; but when he opened the paper, he found nothing but the
word "catnip." It is not likely that he ever again tried to take
advantage of the medical profession.
But it was not always Jersey doctors whose wit shone brightest in a
financial transaction. There was a doctor in the town of Rocky Hill who
was sent for to attend a poor old man who was suffering with a piece of
bone sticking in his throat. The doctor went immediately to the old
man's house, and it was not long before the bone was out. As the doctor
was packing up his instruments, the old fellow, whose name was William,
inquired how much he would have to pay; and the doctor replied that for
an operation of that sort his charge was five dollars. This quite
astonished William, who probably had not five cents in the house; but he
wished to pay his debts, and not to be considered a pauper patient, and
so he asked the doctor if he might come to his house and work out the
bill. The doctor replied that that would be entirely satisfactory to
him, and that William might come the next day and work in the garden.
The next day old William went to the doctor's house. All day he
faithfully dug and hoed and raked. Toward the end of the afternoon the
doctor came into the garden, and, after informing William that he might
come again, he casually asked him how much he charged for a day's work.
William stood up and promptly answered, that for a day's labor in the
garden his charge was five dollars. Now was the doctor surprised.
"You don't mean," he exclaimed, "that you are going to ask five dollars
for one day's labor!"
"That is exactly my price," said William. "If two minutes' yanking with
a pair of pincers at a little bone is worth five dollars, then one day's
hard labor in tilling the ground is worth just as much."
It often happens that doctors are men of wit and humor; and it is
recorded that a New Jersey physician, named Dr. Hole, was the author of
the first version of a tombstone epitaph which afterwards became widely
known and used. The lines of Dr. Hole are cut upon a tombstone of a
child, and run as follows:--
"A dropsy sore long time I bore:
Forsitions were in vain
Till God above did hear my moan,
And eased me of my pain."
That some of those early doctors were honest is proved by a doctor's
bill which is now preserved in the New Jersey Historical Society. At the
end of this bill, after all the different items of service and medicine
had been charged upon it, there is this entry: "Contrary credit by
Medsons brought back." It would be difficult now to find a doctor in New
Jersey, or anywhere else, who would be willing to take back, and allow
credit for, all partly filled bottles of medicine, and boxes of pills,
the contents of which had been ordered, but not entirely used.
THE SLAVES OF NEW JERSEY.
We have so long looked upon New Jersey as prominent among what were
called the "free States" of the Union, that it now seems strange when we
consider, that among the first of the institutions established upon its
soil by the early settlers, was the system of slavery. This was the case
not only in New Jersey, but in all the American Colonies. The settlers
of New England, as well as those of the Southern Colonies, used negro
slaves as laborers on their farms; and the trade in native Africans was
a very important branch of industry.
The Duke of York, to whom his brother, Charles II., had made a grant of
extensive American possessions, was at the head of the African Company,
formed for the purpose of bringing slaves from Africa, and selling them.
The Dutch were then the great rivals of the English in this trade; and
the Duke of York was very glad to possess New Jersey and the rest of his
grant, for then he could not only oust the Dutch from the territory, but
could possess himself of this very desirable and profitable slave
market.
But it was not only the English and Dutch who brought negro slaves to
America, for it is stated that the earliest Swedish settlers brought
slaves with them as laborers. So we may say that slavery and freedom
were planted together in this country of ours; one to be pulled up
afterward like a weed, the other to be left to grow and flourish.
When Berkeley and Carteret acquired authority over New Jersey, they did
everything that they could to induce settlers to come to the new
country; and, as they were anxious to have the lands opened up and
cultivated as rapidly as possible, they encouraged immigrants to bring
as many slaves as they could afford. They offered one hundred and fifty
acres to every one who would settle, and another one hundred and fifty
acres for every full-grown able-bodied male slave, and seventy-five
acres each for those not grown up. Afterwards, when slaves became more
numerous, the bounties given on their account were diminished, and in
course of time they ceased altogether.
A great many slaves must have been brought direct from Africa to New
Jersey, for at Perth Amboy there was established what was then called a
barracks; and in this, negroes who had been brought in the slave ships
were confined until they were sold and sent out into the country.
Not only were there negro slaves in the State, but there were also
Indians who had been enslaved, and were regularly sold and bought. How
these red men happened to be slaves, we do not certainly know; but we
may be very sure that the whites did not make war upon Indian tribes,
and capture prisoners, for the purpose of making slaves of them. It is
far more likely, that, when one tribe of Indians made war upon another,
the conquerors found it a very profitable thing to sell their prisoners
to the whites. There is no reason to suppose, however, that the natives
made war on purpose to capture and sell their fellow-countrymen, as was
the case in Africa.
The early records, however, prove that there were Indian slaves. When
the House of Representatives for the Province met at Burlington in 1704,
an act was brought before that body for the regulating of Indian and
negro slaves.
Negroes were then considered to be such legitimate articles of
merchandise, that English sovereigns thought it very necessary to see to
it that their loyal settlers were sufficiently supplied with slaves, and
at prices not too high. When Queen Anne sent out Lord Cornbury as
governor of the Province, she recommended the Royal African Company to
the especial attention of the governor, that New Jersey might have a
constant and sufficient supply of merchantable negroes at moderate rates
in money or commodities. In consequence of the fostering care of the
Proprietors and the English sovereigns, slaves rapidly increased in New
Jersey.
The English themselves were not at all averse to the ownership of a good
serviceable slave; and about the middle of the eighteenth century a
young gentleman in England wrote to his father in New Jersey, begging
that he might "be favored with a young negro boy to present to the
brother of the then Duke of Grafton, to whom he was under obligations,
as 'a present of that kind would be very acceptable.'"
Of course, the existence of slavery made the state of society in New
Jersey and the other Colonies very different from what it is now; and
this difference is strongly shown by the advertisements of runaway
negroes, which we can find in some old newspapers. It seems very strange
to see in a Boston paper of one hundred years ago a picture of a black
man running away with a bag over his shoulder, and under the picture the
statement of the reward which would be given for his capture; and in
the New Jersey papers there were frequent advertisements of runaway
slaves and of negroes for sale. One of these, published in Burlington
two years after the Colony had declared itself free and independent,
reads as follows:--
"TO BE SOLD--For no fault--but a saucy tongue for which he is now
in Burlington jail--A negro man about 39 years of age. He is a
compleat farmer, honest and sober. For further particulars enquire
of the subscriber in Evesham, Burlington Co. Feb. 4, 1778."
When Washington was in Morristown in 1777, one of his aids wrote a
letter to a friend in Elizabethtown, which states,--
The General will esteem it as a singular favor if you can apprehend
a mulatto girl, servant and slave of Mrs. Washington, who eloped
from this place yesterday, with what design cannot be conjectured,
though as she may intend to the enemy and pass your way I trouble
you with the description: her name is Charlotte but in all
probability will change it, yet may be discovered by question. She
is light complected, about thirteen years of age, pert, dressed in
brown cloth wescoat and petticoat. Your falling upon some method of
recovering her should she be near you will accommodate Mrs.
Washington and lay her under great obligations to you being the
only female servant she brought from home and intending to be off
to-day had she not been missing. A gentle reward will be given to
any soldier or other who shall take her up.
I am with respect your most obedient servant
---- ----
After a time, negro slaves became so plentiful in New Jersey, that laws
were passed restricting their importation, and a considerable tax was
laid upon each African brought into the country.
But the negroes were not the only slaves in New Jersey during those
early days. Here, as well as in many of the other Colonies, was a class
of white people, generally from England, who were called
"redemptioners." These were poor people, although often persons of
fairly good station and education, who desired to emigrate to America,
but who could not afford to pay their passage.
A regular system was then established, by which a poor person desiring
to settle in New Jersey would be brought over free. When one of these
emigrants took passage on a ship, he signed a contract which gave the
captain of the vessel the right to sell him, as soon as he arrived in
America, for enough money to pay his passage. This white man was thus
bought, when he reached New Jersey, exactly as if he had been a negro
slave; and he was subject to the same rules as those which governed
other slaves. Of course, he was made the subject of great imposition;
for the captain would naturally desire to get as large a sum of money as
possible for each redemptioner, and therefore would be perfectly willing
to sell him for a long term.
The people who owned redemptioners could sell them again if they chose;
and it often happened that some of them passed into the possession of
several families before they finally served out the term for which they
had been sold. All sorts of people became redemptioners,--mechanics,
laborers, and even professional men. Among the people who sold
themselves into limited slavery there were schoolmasters, and it is
stated that at one time the supply of redemptioner schoolmasters was so
great that they became a drug in the market.
In the days before there were many regular schools in New Jersey, much
of the education must have been carried on by what we now call private
tutors; and a schoolmaster who could be bought as if he had been a horse
or a cow was often a very convenient piece of property. If a family
should own a teacher who was able only to instruct small children, it
would be very easy, when these children grew older and able to undertake
more advanced studies, to sell this primary teacher to some family where
there were young pupils, and buy one capable of teaching higher
branches.
It is said that these redemptioners were often treated much more
harshly and cruelly than the negro slaves, and any one who assisted one
of them to escape was severely punished. There was good reason for this
difference in the treatment of the two classes of slaves; for a negro
was the property of his master as long as he lived, and it was
manifestly the interest of the owner to keep his slave in good
condition. But the redemptioner could only be held for a certain time,
and, if his master was not a good man, he would be apt to get out of him
all the work that he could during the time of his service, and to give
him no more food or clothing than was absolutely necessary.
After a time there were laws made to protect the redemptioners. One of
these was, that any person sold after he was seventeen years old could
not serve for more than four years; and another provided, that, when a
redemptioner's time of service had expired, his master should give him
"two good suits of clothing, suitable for a servant, one good ax, one
good hoe, and seven bushels of Indian corn."
But although the redemptioner sometimes fared very badly in the new
country, it often happened that he came out very well in the end. Among
the white people who came here as slaves there were often convicts and
paupers; but even some of these succeeded in bettering their condition
and establishing themselves as good citizens, and in founding families.
It often happened that some of the Germans who came to buy land and
settle, chose rather to put away their money, and sell themselves as
redemptioners to English families, so that they might learn the English
language and manner of living. Then, when they had educated themselves
in this practical manner, and their time of service was over, they could
buy land, and establish themselves on terms of equality with their
English neighbors.
But the trade in redemptioners gradually decreased; and by the middle of
the eighteenth century there were not many of them left in New Jersey,
although there were a few in the State until after the Revolution. Negro
slavery, however, continued much longer. It grew and flourished until it
became a part of the New Jersey social system; but it must not be
supposed that all the people of the State continued to be satisfied with
this condition of things.
At first everybody who could afford it owned slaves, and the Friends or
Quakers bought negroes the same as other people did; but about the end
of the seventeenth century some of these Quakers began to think that
property in human beings was not a righteous thing, and the Quakers of
New Jersey united with those of Pennsylvania in an agreement
recommending to the members of the Society of Friends that they should
no longer employ negro slaves, or, if they thought it best to continue
to do this, that they should at least cease to import them.
A strong party among the Quakers of New Jersey opposed slavery for many
years, and the system was denounced at some of their yearly meetings;
and this went on until about the middle of the next century, when a law
was made that no person owning slaves should continue in the Society of
Friends.
As years passed on, people other than Quakers began to consider slavery
an injustice and an evil; and this feeling gradually increased, until in
the beginning of the nineteenth century it became very strong, and in
1820 an act was passed by the Legislature for the emancipation of the
slaves. They were not set free all at once, and turned into the world to
take care of themselves; but a system of gradual emancipation was
adopted, by which the young people obtained their freedom when they came
of age, while the masters were obliged to take care of the old negroes
as long as they lived. By this plan, slavery was very gradually
abolished in New Jersey, so that in 1840 there were still six hundred
and seventy-four slaves in the State; and even in 1860 eighteen slaves
remained, and these must have been very old.
A JERSEY TEA PARTY.
At the time when the American colonists began to be restless under the
rule of Great Britain, the people of New Jersey showed as strong a
desire for independence as those of any other Colony, and they were by
no means backward in submitting to any privations which might be
necessary in order to assert their principles. As has been said before,
the people were prosperous, and accustomed to good living, and it was
not likely that there was any part of America in which a cup of
well-flavored tea was better appreciated than in New Jersey.
But when the other colonists determined to resist unjust taxation, and
resolved that they would not use tea, on which a heavy tax was laid
without allowing the American people to have anything to say about it,
the patriotic people of New Jersey resolved that they too would use no
tea so long as this unjust tax was placed upon it. When the tea was
destroyed in Boston Harbor, the Jersey patriots applauded the act, and
would have been glad to show in the same way what they thought upon the
subject.
But when tea was shipped from England, it was sent to the great ports of
Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Charleston; and what was used in
New Jersey came from these places after the consignees had paid the tax.
However, to show their sympathy with the efforts which were being made
at the sea-ports to prevent the landing of tea, the New Jersey people,
that is, those who belonged to the Whig party,--which was the patriotic
party, and opposed to the Tories, who favored England,--formed an
association, the members of which bound themselves to buy or use no tea
until the tax should be removed.
There is a story told of Hugh Drum of Somerset County, who was so
thoroughly in earnest on this subject, and who probably supposed that
the weak little Colonies would always have to submit to the power of
Great Britain, that he took an oath that never again during the rest of
his life would he take a cup of tea; and although he lived a great many
years afterward, during which the Americans imported their own tea
without regard to what any other country thought about it, Mr. Drum
never again drank tea.
But at last an opportunity came for patriotic Jerseymen to show that
they were not behind the other colonists in resisting the attempt of
Great Britain to force upon them this taxed tea.
Nearly a year after the tea had been thrown overboard in Boston Harbor,
a vessel from England--loaded with tea, and bound to Philadelphia--put
into Cohansey Creek, a small stream which runs into Delaware Bay, and
anchored at the little town of Greenwich. This vessel, called the
"Greyhound," was afraid to go up to Philadelphia, because from that
port tea ships were sent back to England as soon as they arrived, as was
also the case in New York. So the captain of the "Greyhound" thought it
would be a good plan to land his tea at Greenwich, from which place it
could be taken inland to its destination. Here the cargo was unloaded,
and stored in the cellar of a house opposite the open market place.
This business of forcing tea upon the American colonists had become a
very serious matter to England; for the East India Company had now in
their warehouses at London seventeen million pounds of tea, and, if
there should be no sale for any of this in the American market, the loss
would be very severe. Consequently every possible method was resorted
to, in order to have the tea landed on American soil; it being believed,
that, if the tea once got into the hands of the dealers, the people
would overcome their prejudices to its importation, and begin to use it
again.
Therefore the captain of the "Greyhound" thought he was doing a very
sharp thing when he sailed up Cohansey Creek and unloaded his tea. That
cargo was landed, and in those days an English captain of a tea ship
might well be proud of having performed such a feat.
But it is not likely that the captain of the "Greyhound" had ever before
sailed into a port of New Jersey, large or small, or had anything to do
with Jerseymen; for if he had, he would not have been so well satisfied
with the result of the voyage.
The people of Greenwich could not prevent the landing of the tea, for
there was no organized force at the place, nor could they order the
"Greyhound" to turn round and go back to England; but they would not
allow their town to be made use of as a port of entry for this obnoxious
merchandise, simply because it was a little town, and could not keep
English ships out of its waters. A meeting of the patriotic citizens was
held, and it was resolved that no tea should go out of Greenwich to
comfort the bodies and contaminate the principles of people in any part
of the Colonies; and they would show their British tyrants that it was
just as unsafe to send tea into Cohansey Creek as it was to send it into
the harbor of Boston.
Having come to this determination, they went immediately to work. A
party of young men, about forty in number, was organized; and in order
to disguise themselves, or strike terror into anybody who might be
inclined to oppose their undertaking, they were all dressed as Indians.
They assembled in the market place, and then, making a rush to the house
in which the tea was stored, they broke open the doors, carried out the
tea, split open the boxes in which it was contained, and made a great
pile of it in an open space near by.
When tea is dry and in good condition, it will burn very well, and it
was not many minutes before there was a magnificent bonfire near the
market place in Greenwich; and in all that town there was not one man
who dared to attempt to put it out. Thus the cargo of the "Greyhound"
went up in smoke to the sky. It must have been a very hard thing for
the good ladies of the town to sit in their houses and sniff the
delightful odor, which recalled to their minds the cherished beverage,
of which, perhaps, they might never again partake. But they were
Jerseywomen, of stout hearts and firm principles, and there is no record
that any one of them uttered a word of complaint.
But in every community there is at least one person in whose mind there
is a little streak of the Ananias nature, and there was a man of that
kind in Greenwich. His name was Stacks, and he was a great lover of tea;
moreover, he had a soul disposed to economy and thrift. Consequently it
was very hard for him to stand by and see all that tea wasted; and he
thought it would be no harm--as he was not a merchant, and did not
intend to exercise evil influences upon the people of America by
inducing them to buy tea--if he appropriated to himself a little of this
most desirable herb, which was to be burned and wasted before his very
eyes.
Whenever he had a chance, he slipped a little tea into some part of his
clothes where he thought it would not be noticed, and so gradually
loaded himself with a considerable stock of the herb. In fact, he stowed
away so many handfuls of it, that, when the fire was over, his
companions noticed that he had considerably increased in size; and it
was not long before his trick was discovered. We do not hear that he was
compelled to empty out the tea, but we are told that ever after he went
by the name of "Tea Stacks."
This tea bonfire created a great stir, and although the patriotic party
approved it, there were a great many Tories in the country who condemned
it as a piece of outrageous violence and wanton waste. This latter
opinion was so freely expressed, that the English owners of the cargo
were encouraged to take legal steps against the men who destroyed the
tea. It was easy enough to do this; for the young fellows who had made
the bonfire were very proud of what they had done, and, instead of
denying their connection with the burning of the tea, were always very
ready to boast of it.
When it was understood that the tea burners were to be prosecuted, all
the Whigs of the surrounding country determined to stand by them; and
they subscribed a large sum of money to engage lawyers to defend their
case. The strength of the popular feeling was shown by the fact, that,
when the case was brought to court, the grand jury positively refused to
bring a bill against these young men, although the judge insisted that
they should do so. The matter was thus postponed; and as it was not long
before the Colonies broke out into open rebellion, and a period
followed when Englishmen no longer brought suits in American courts,
there was no further action in regard to the tea burning at Greenwich.
Therefore, unless Mr. Stacks contrived to keep some of the tea which he
carried off in his clothes, the good people of the neighborhood, if they
drank tea at all, made it of the dried leaves of raspberries, or those
of some other bush, which have something of a tea taste, and were thus
enabled to have a hot beverage with their evening meal, with but a
little strain upon their imaginations, and none at all on their
consciences.
In other neighborhoods, however, there were people who, although they
were patriots and inclined to support the cause of American liberty,
could not see how such a little thing as drinking a cup of tea, if they
happened to have it, could interfere with their regard and respect for
the great principle of justice and independence.
Of course, it was to be supposed that the Tories, who were opposed to
this nonsense about independence, were glad to buy tea and to drink it
whenever they got the chance; but it was expected that those who called
themselves Whigs and patriots would stand by their party, and
discountenance tea drinking. There is a story told of a man who lived in
Bridgetown, who was a member of one of the Committees of Safety which
were formed for the purpose of promoting the cause of American liberty.
It was found out that this man and his family were in the habit of
drinking East India tea; and when his fellow-committeemen asked him in
regard to this matter, he boldly admitted that they all liked tea, that
they drank tea, and that they intended to drink tea.
This was a very serious matter, and the committee saw that it was
necessary to take vigorous measures in regard to this peculiar case. At
first they tried the force of argument; but all they could say to the
man amounted to nothing. He had principles, and what he considered very
good principles; but he liked tea, and, having it in the house, he saw
no harm in drinking it. So the teapot was on his table every day.
Now, his fellow-committeemen held another meeting, and formally resolved
that this unpatriotic patriot should be punished in a way which would
make a powerful impression on him, and which would show the whole
community how the Committee of Safety intended to stand firm in the
position they had taken in resisting unjust legislation. It was
resolved, that, so long as he and his family drank tea, the patriots of
the neighborhood would have nothing to do with him, they would not deal
with him, nor would they associate with him or his. This was an early
instance in America of what is known now as "boycotting."
It was a very hard thing to be shut out from all dealing and connection
with his friends and fellow-citizens, and it was not long before the tea
drinker made up his mind that the society and friendship of his
neighbors was better even than the highest flavored cup of tea; and so
he formally acknowledged his error, begged the pardon of the committee,
and promised that thereafter he would act in accordance with their
rules and regulations; and his family teapot was put away upon a high
top shelf.
But the time came, in a very few years, when the American people
attended to their own taxation, and when this teapot, with all the
others in the country, could be taken down and freely used without
interference with law or conscience.
THE STORY OF A SPY.
When a nation goes to war with another, it is often necessary for the
armies on each side to leave behind some of the high and noble
principles which may have governed them at home. Of course, war is
bloody and cruel, and it almost always happens that the officers and
soldiers are obliged to descend also to meanness and duplicity in order
to succeed in their campaigns.
One strong reason for this is the necessity for the employment of spies.
It is always desirable for the commander of an army to know as far as
possible the condition of the enemy's force, and what he is doing or
intends to do. Consequently it is a common thing to send spies into the
enemy's ranks; and the better those spies can deceive the soldiers of
the other side, the more valuable will be their report, if they are
fortunate enough to get back into their own camp.
Sometimes a spy will sneak into the enemy's lines, and make his
observations in concealment and safety; but the most valuable spies are
those which enter an enemy's camp pretending sympathy and friendship. A
man who can do this well can find out a great deal.
In every army a spy from the other side is regarded as the worst of
enemies, and if captured, his punishment is death. An impartial outsider
might object to this severity, when it is considered that the army which
punishes the spy may, at the same time, have spies of its own among the
enemy. During the Revolution, Major AndrГ© was executed because he came
into the American lines as a spy, and at the same time General
Washington was very glad to get a good spy to send into a British camp.
There was a man named John Honeyman, who acted with great success in
this capacity on the patriotic side during the Revolution. Honeyman was
a Scotch-Irishman, and was said to be a remarkably fine looking man. He
was tall, strong, extremely active, and had a fine military bearing. He
had no desire to become a soldier; but he was forced into the British
army, and came to this country in 1758, when Abercrombie came over to
attack the French in Canada. Young Colonel Wolfe, who was afterwards the
famous General Wolfe who fell at Quebec, had command of this army, and
on the ship in which he sailed was John Honeyman.
Military men are not as sure-footed as sailors on board a ship, which
may be rolling and tossing on rough waters; and one day, as Colonel
Wolfe was coming into the cabin, he tripped and fell when he was halfway
down the companion way, and would probably have broken his neck, if it
had not been that Honeyman happened to be at the bottom of the steps,
and caught the colonel in his arms, thus saving him from injury.
It is very satisfactory for a full-grown man, especially one whose
profession exposes him to accidents of various kinds, to be able to take
into his service another man who is tall enough and strong enough to
pick him up and carry him if it is necessary, and who is also
quick-witted enough to know when he should interpose himself in case of
danger.
Honeyman's conduct on this occasion made an impression on Colonel Wolfe;
and when afterwards he was made general, he took the tall soldier into
his bodyguard, and made him understand that, in times when danger might
be apprehended, he was to be as near him as his duties would permit.
When the great attack was made upon Quebec, Honeyman was one of the men
who helped row the boat which carried Wolfe over the river; and during
this passage a cannon ball from the enemy struck an officer sitting very
near Honeyman, and took off his head. Had this happened to Honeyman, it
would have been a bad thing for New Jersey.
When they reached the opposite side, Honeyman climbed the Heights of
Abraham side by side with his brave commander; and when, in the battle
which followed, Wolfe was killed, it was Honeyman who bore him off the
field. Thus the first and the last service which this strong man
rendered to his military chief were very much the same.
About a year after this the war ended, and Honeyman received an
honorable discharge. He carried with him the good will and commendation
of his officers, but he also took something which he valued more than
these. While he was with General Wolfe, that officer had given him
letters expressing his good opinion of him, and these afterwards proved
of great service.
Honeyman went southward, and lived for some years in the American
Colonies. He finally settled in Philadelphia, where he married. When the
Revolution broke out, his sympathies were entirely with the American
side, but he did not immediately enlist in the American army. When
Washington came to Philadelphia, Honeyman was very anxious to see him
and consult with him. It was difficult for a man in the ordinary walks
of life to obtain an interview with the commander in chief; but Honeyman
sent in the letters which General Wolfe had given him, and, after having
read these, Washington was very ready to see the man of whom that
general had such a high opinion. Washington soon discovered that
Honeyman was a man of peculiar ability, and he had several interviews
with him, although it is not known what was said at these times.
Before very long, Honeyman took his family to Griggstown, in Somerset
County, New Jersey, and there he hired a house and settled. From this
place he went to Fort Lee, when Washington came into New Jersey with his
army, and had an interview with the general; and here, it is said, he
made a regular contract with the commander in chief to become a spy on
the American side.
There were a good many Tories in the State, and, as Honeyman had once
been a British soldier, it was easy enough for him to make believe that
he was a Tory, and so make friends with the Redcoats when he should have
an opportunity.
The plan concocted between Washington and Honeyman was very carefully
worked out in all its details. Honeyman was to let it be known that he
was a Tory, and as soon as he thought it proper he was to leave his
family and join the British. It was considered that the best thing he
could do would be to engage in business as a butcher, and then, when he
went over to the British, he could go about the country in search of
cattle, and thus get a good idea of what was going on.
He was to stay with the enemy until he discovered something important,
and then he was to arrange matters so that he should, apparently without
knowing it, wander near the American lines, where he would be captured.
It is said that Washington arranged, that, as soon as he should hear
that Honeyman had gone over to the enemy, he would offer a reward for
his arrest; but this reward would be paid only in case the supposed
traitor should be carried alive and unhurt to him. All this planning was
necessary, because there was so much communication between the Tories
and Whigs at that time, that, if it had been known on the American side
that Honeyman had gone over as a spy, the fact would soon have been
communicated to the British.
Honeyman went over to the enemy, and started business as a butcher for
the army, and, after having gone a good deal about the country looking
for cattle, he came to New Brunswick with the British army. Nobody had
suspected that he was not a perfectly honest Tory, and he had been
paying great attention to the condition of the British army, and to
finding out everything which might be of use if reported to Washington.
Among other things, he discovered that the British forces then occupying
Trenton were not under a strict state of discipline. It was winter; the
weather was cold; apparently there was not much for them to do; and
discipline was in a rather lax state. Honeyman well understood the
habits of the Redcoats, and he knew that during the holidays the
soldiers would live in even a more free and easy manner than they were
living then.
Not only did he make himself well acquainted with the condition of the
army, but he carefully studied the town of Trenton and its neighborhood,
and, going about in every direction after cows and oxen, he learned the
roads so well that he could make a very good map of them. Everything
that could be of service to the American cause was jotted down in
Honeyman's retentive memory; and when he had found out everything that
he could find out, he thought it was fully time that he should acquaint
Washington with the state of affairs in the enemy's lines.
He knew that there were American pickets on the Jersey side, some
distance away; and he started out in this direction as a greasy butcher,
with a rope in one hand and a long whip in the other, looking for all
the world like John Honeyman the Tory cattleman, who, if he knew what
was good for him, would better keep out of sight of the soldiers of the
American army. He walked a long distance down the river, and, though he
may have seen cattle, he paid no attention to them. His present object
was not to capture anything and take it away, but to be captured and
taken away. After a time he saw at a distance what he had been looking
for. Behind some bushes, but still quite plain to the eye of this
practiced soldier, were two cavalrymen dismounted, and Honeyman knew
that they were Americans. He continued to walk towards them until he
came close to the spot where the two soldiers were standing.
The moment their eyes fell upon him, they recognized him, and shouted to
him to halt; but Honeyman was too good an actor to do that. If he wished
to carry on the business in hand, he must keep up his character as a
Tory, and so he took to his long legs and ran like a deer. But the men
jumped on their horses and were after him in a moment; and as horses'
legs are a good deal better than human legs, no matter how long they may
be, the flying butcher was soon overtaken. But even then he did not
surrender, but so laid about him with his whip that he kept the two men
at bay. Of course, if they had not known him, they would have shot him
down; but as Washington had issued a proclamation concerning him, and
had especially insisted that he should be brought in alive, they did not
wish to injure him. But the unequal fight did not continue long, and
Honeyman was soon captured. The soldiers bound his arms, and, mounting
him behind one of them, so carried him across the river to Washington's
camp.
When Honeyman was brought into the presence of the commander in chief,
he pretended to be very much frightened; and he would have been
excusable if he had been really frightened, for in that little
performance of his he had run a great many risks. After asking a few
questions of this pretended traitor Washington told the guards to
withdraw, and he had a private conference which lasted over half an
hour; and in that time it is probable that these two men did a great
deal of talking. The information given was most valuable, and such as
could have been furnished only by a man of extraordinary powers of
observation.
When he had kept Honeyman as long as was necessary, Washington called
the guards, and told them to take the prisoner to a log cabin which was
used as a military jail, and there to watch him carefully during the
night, and in the morning he would be tried by court-martial. Honeyman
was taken to the prison, which had but one window and one door, and
supper was given to him. He was locked in, and two sentinels went on
guard outside the walls of the log house.
In the middle of the night these men saw a fire burning not far from
headquarters, and, fearing that it might prove dangerous to allow it to
burn, they thought it their duty to run and put it out. This they did,
and returned to the log house, where everything looked the same as they
had left it. But in the morning, when they opened the door, there was no
prisoner inside.
It is said that the whole plan of this escape, probably by means of the
window, was arranged by Washington himself, but of this we are not
certain. We know, however, that Washington looked upon Honeyman as one
of the most valuable men in the employ of the army, and that he would
take every means to prevent him from coming to harm on account of this
service.
It was in consequence of the information that Honeyman, at the cost of
such great risk and danger, had brought to Washington, that three days
afterwards the Americans crossed the Delaware, attacked Trenton, routed
the British, and thus gained one of the greatest and most important
victories of the Revolution. If it had been John Honeyman, instead of
the British officer, who was struck by a cannon ball crossing the St.
Lawrence, it is likely that Washington would not have dared to attack
the British army in Trenton, which, before his half hour's conversation
with his spy, was believed to be entirely too strong to be meddled with
by the Continental soldiers on the other side of the river.
But the report which Honeyman had made to Washington was not the only
service which he did to the American cause. Having left his peace
principles at home, as he was bound to do if he wanted to act as a truly
serviceable spy, he had more work before him. As soon as he got out of
the log house, he ran from the camp, and, although he was fired at by a
sentinel, he got safely away. He crossed the river on the ice whenever
there was any, and when he came to open water, he jumped in and swam,
and so he got safely over into the British lines.
There, wet and shivering, he demanded to be taken to the commander; and
to him he told the dreadful story of how he had been captured by the
American soldiers while he was looking for beef cattle, and how he had
been taken to headquarters, questioned, and afterwards shut up in
prison, to be shot in the morning, and how he had quietly escaped and
come back to his friends. Colonel Rahl, who was in command of the
British, was delighted to get hold of this Tory butcher who had been
taken prisoner by the Continentals, and he put him through a course of
examination about the condition of the enemy.
Of course, it was to the benefit of the Americans that the British
should think their army as small and as weak as possible; and so
Honeyman gave an account of the wretched condition of the American
soldiers,--how few they were, how badly they were armed, how miserably
they were officered, and how they were half starved and discouraged. He
told this story so well, that he made the colonel laugh, and declare
that there was no reason to apprehend any danger from such a pack of
ragamuffins as were collected together under Washington, and that, if
anybody wished to keep Christmas in a jolly way in his camp, there was
no reason why he should not do so.
When Honeyman had finished telling his tales, one to one army and
another to the other, he knew that it would be better for him to get out
of the neighborhood. He was quite sure that Washington would take
Trenton, and, if he should be found in that city when it was captured,
it might be hard for even the commander in chief to prevent him from
being shot. So he hastened away to take refuge with the British in New
Brunswick.
Honeyman had made himself so conspicuous in that part of the country as
a Tory who was working as hard as he could for the benefit of the
British by supplying them with beef, that all news about him was
received with great interest. It was not long before this story of how
he had been captured by the American pickets, and afterwards escaped
from the log prison, became generally known; and the people of
Griggstown, where his wife and family lived, were greatly excited,
believing that Honeyman had come there, and had concealed himself in his
house. A mob collected in the neighborhood late one night, surrounded
the house, and woke up the family with shouts and banging on the door.
Mrs. Honeyman appeared, nearly frightened to death; and some of the
ringleaders told her that they knew that her Tory husband had come back,
and was concealed inside; and they vowed, that, if he did not come out
and deliver himself up, they would burn the house and everything in it.
She declared that he was not there, and that it had been a long time
since she had seen him. But this was of no use. They persisted that he
was inside, and that, if he did not come out very quickly, they would
set fire to the house. It was of no use to reason with an excited mob,
and, although Mrs. Honeyman said that they might come in and search the
house for her husband, they would not listen to her. Perhaps one reason
of this was, that Honeyman was a dangerous man to look for, inside of
his own house and in dark rooms. Mrs. Honeyman saw that she must act
quickly, or her home would be lost to her.
She ran inside, and soon appeared with a paper, which she gave to a man
in the crowd with whom she was acquainted, and asked him to read it so
that every one could hear.
It was not to be supposed that Mrs. Honeyman possessed a private riot
act, which might be read in order to disperse a disorderly assembly; but
even the most disorderly people are generally possessed of great
curiosity in regard to anything out of the common, and they consented to
put off the bonfire a few minutes, and hear what was to be read. What
the angry crowd heard was as follows:--
AMERICAN CAMP, NEW JERSEY, 1776.
To the good people of New Jersey, and all others whom it may
concern: It is hereby ordered that the wife and children of John
Honeyman of Griggstown, the notorious Tory, now within the British
lines and probably acting the part of a spy, shall be, and are
hereby protected from all harm and annoyance from every quarter
until further orders. But this furnishes no protection to Honeyman
himself.
GEO. WASHINGTON,
Com.-in-Chief.
This paper, which it is said Washington not only signed, but wrote with
his own hand, had been given to Honeyman some time before, and he sent
it to his wife in order that it might protect her in case of danger such
as now threatened her. It was thought very likely that the people of
Griggstown would become so incensed against the Tory butcher, that they
might offer harm to his wife and family; and Washington was, no doubt,
glad to give what protection he could to the home of the man who, no
matter how much he might have deceived other people, was always true to
him and to the American cause.
When the crowd heard the communication from the commander in chief of
the American army, ordering them to refrain from violence to Mrs.
Honeyman and her family, they could not understand why it had been
written; but they understood very well what it commanded, and so,
grumbling a good deal, but not daring to disobey, they dispersed, and
left the wife of the spy in peace.
This paper, of course, was cherished as a great prize by the Honeyman
family, and remained in their possession for many years; and it was
indeed an heirloom worth preserving. But, although it proved a safeguard
for Mrs. Honeyman, it did not remove the prejudices against her husband,
and for a long time after that it would have been a very unwise thing
for Tory Honeyman to come to Griggstown. Of course, it would have been
an easy thing for Washington to have publicly exonerated Honeyman from
all charges of treason and Toryism, but this would not have served his
purpose. There was still need of a competent spy in the British lines;
and there Honeyman remained during the rest of the war, always ready to
give information to the commander whenever he could obtain it.
When peace was proclaimed, Washington did not forget Honeyman, and he
himself told the story of how this brave man became a Tory butcher for
the sake of American independence, and of the great services he had
rendered to the cause. Then, of course, Honeyman went home to his wife
and family, and the people of Griggstown received him as if he had been
a great hero. And in fact, looking at the matter from a war point of
view, he deserved all the honors they could give him, for without his
aid the battle of Trenton could never have been won; and in fact he was
more useful in that engagement than if he had been a regiment of
soldiers.
Honeyman was no doubt a great man in Griggstown. The people who had once
threatened to burn down his house could not do enough for him. Those who
once would not speak to his wife when they met her, now implored her to
let them know what they could do for her, and it was not long before the
popularity of the family increased to a wonderful degree.
Several officers of rank who had heard of what Honeyman had done, came
to see and talk with him; and, more than that, Washington himself came
to Griggstown, and paid a visit to his former spy. Such an honor was
enough to make the once denounced Tory butcher the leading citizen of
the town. Honeyman now became a prosperous man, and bought a large farm
and reared a family of seven children, who grew up and prospered; and
their descendants are now scattered all over the State. He himself lived
to the good old age of ninety-five, and died respected and honored by
all,--never thought of as a spy, but only as a patriotic hero.
It would appear, from the stories of those early days, that whenever a
man or woman acted a good part, and was truly of service to New Jersey,
he or she always lived to be very old, and left behind a vast number of
descendants.