reason to fear, that a great part of the present generation will, as a great part of their predecessors have done, experience, when they enter the future world, their first solemn conviction, that such a world exists. I feel a strong inclination to extend these remarks but I will desist.

:

In the autumn of 1777, I resided for some time in this County. The lines of the British were then in the neighbourhood of King's bridge; and those of the Americans at Byram river. These unhappy people were, therefore, exposed to the depredations of both. Often they were actually plundered; and always were liable to this calamity. They feared every body whom they saw; and loved nobody. It was a curious fact to a philosopher, and a melancholy one to a moralist, to hear their conversation. To every question they gave such an answer, as would please the enquirer; or, if they despaired of pleasing, such an one, as would not provoke him. Fear was, apparently, the only passion, by which they were animated. The power of volition seemed to have deserted them. They were not civil, but obsequious; not obliging, but subservient. They yielded with a kind of apathy, and very quietly, what you asked, and what they supposed it impossible for them to retain. If you treated them kindly, they received it coldly; not as kindness, but as a compensation for injuries, done them by others. When you spoke to them, they answered you without either good or ill-nature, and without any appearance of reluctance or hesitation: but they subjoined neither questions, nor remarks, of their own; proving to your full conviction, that they felt no interest either in the conversation, or in yourself. Both their countenances, and their motions, had lost every trace of animation and of feeling. Their features were smoothed, not into serenity, but apathy; and instead of being settled in the attitude of quiet thinking, strongly indicated, that all thought, beyond what was merely instinctive, had fled their minds forever.

Their houses, in the mean time, were in a great measure scenes of desolation. Their furniture was extensively plundered, or broken to pieces. The walls, floors, and windows were injur

were gone.

ed both by violence, and decay; and were not repaired, because they had not the means of repairing them, and because they were exposed to the repetition of the same injuries. Their cattle Their enclosures were burnt, where they were capable of becoming fuel; and in many cases thrown down, where they were not. Their fields were covered with a rank growth of weeds, and wild grass. Amid all this appearance of desolation, nothing struck my own eye more forcibly than the sight of this great road; the passage from New-York to Boston. Where I had heretofore seen a continual succession of horses and carriages; and life and bustle lent a sprightliness to all the environing objects; not a single, solitary traveller was visible from week to week, or from month to month. The world was motionless and silent; except when one of these unhappy people ventured upon a rare, and lonely, excursion to the house of a neighbour, no less unhappy; or a scouting party, traversing the country in quest of enemies, alarmed the inhabitants with expectations of new injuries and sufferings. The very tracks of the carriages were grown over, and obliterated: and, where they were discernible, resembled the faint impressions of chariot wheels, said to be left on the pavements of Herculaneum. The grass was of full height for the scythe; and strongly realized to my own mind, for the first time, the proper import of that picturesque declaration in the Song of Deborah: "In the days of Shamgar, the son of Anath, in the days of Jael, the highways were unoccupied; and the travellers walked through by-paths. The inhabitants of the villages ceased: they ceased in Israel."

The County of West-Chester contained, in 1790, 24,003; in 1800, 27,428; and in 1810, 30,272 inhabitants. East-Chester contained in 1790, 740; in 1800, 738; and in 1810, 1,039 inhabitants. Pelham contained in 1790, 199; in 1800, 234; and in 1810, 267 inhabitants. New-Rochelle contained in 1790, 692; in 1800, 943, and in 1810, 996 inhabitants. Mamaroneck, contained in 1790, 452, in 1800, 503; and in 1810, 496 inhabitants. Rye contained in 1790, 986; in 1800, 974; and in 1810, 1,274 inhabitants. I am, Sir, yours, &c.

LETTER VII.

Greenwich--Putnam's Hill--Stamford-Hon. Abraham Davenport--Rev. Dr. Wells-Hon. James Davenport-Shipan-Middlesex-Rev. Dr. Mather--Burning of Norwalk-Fairfield-Expedition of the British troops to Danbury—Gen. Wooster-Gen. Silliman-Rev. Mr. Hobart--Burning of Fairfield--Reflections -Burning of Greens-farms.

Dear Sir,

THE State of Connecticut is bounded in this quarter by the iniddle of Byram river. Byram point on the Eastern side of this stream is the South-Western corner of the State, and of the township of Greenwich. Its latitude, is 40° 58′ North; and its longitude 74° 18' West of Greenwich.

The township of Greenwich is formed of rough, stony hills, particularly on the road. More wild and desolate scenery can scarcely be imagined than that, which is presented to the traveller during the two first miles. But the grounds at a little distance, both above and below the road, are smoother. The soil is of the best quality and fitted for every production of the climate. There is not a more fertile tract of the same extent in the State.

Greenwich is divided into three parishes. West Greenwich on the West; Greenwich on the East; and Stanwich, a part of which is taken from Stamford, on the North. West Greenwich is vulgarly called Horseneck, from a peninsula on the Sound; anciently used as a pasture for horses, and it is the largest, richest, and most populous, part of the township.

Greenwich contains four Congregations: three Presbyterian, and one Episcopal. The last is in West Greenwich; and is a plurality, supplied at times by the Episcopal Minister of Stam. ford. The Presbyterian church is a neat building, standing on an elevation commanding a rich, and very extensive, prospect of the Connecticut shore, the Sound, and Long-Island. The whole of this township is filled with plantations. The settlement of it was begun, after it had been purchased of the Indians in 1640, under the Dutch government at New-York; then New AmsterVOL. III.

63

It

dam. In 1665, it was incorporated by Governor Stuyvesant. was, however, originally purchased for the Colony of New-Haven by Robert Feaks, and Daniel Patrick. But the purchasers violated their engagements to that Colony; and, together with the few inhabitants, placed themselves under the government of New-Amsterdam. The settlement went on heavily, until the people returned to the Jurisdiction of Connecticut, then including the Colony of New-Haven. The Indians were hostile to the Dutch, and were therefore not very favourably inclined towards the inhabitants. In 1646, a furious battle was fought here on Strickland's plain. The contest was continued for a long time with great obstinancy, and was very bloody. The Dutch finally kept the field; and the Indians suddenly withdrew. The graves, in which the slain were buried, were visible more than a century afterwards.

The inhabitants of West Greenwich are distributed into two distinct classes. A part of them are Connecticut people in their character the rest resemble not a little the people of the neighbouring County of West Chester. Generally they are in easy circumstances.

The houses are like those in the County of West Chester. They are built on every road, where the property, and the convenience of the owner dictated. On the great road they stand at moderate distances, so that the whole tract is populated.

About one fourth of a mile East of the Presbyterian church there is a steep declivity, now generally called Putnam's hill, from the following incident. Gen. Putnam was pursued to the brow of this precipice by some British light dragoons, in the Revolutionary war. The road at that time turned, a little before it came to the brow of the hill, to the North; and, after proceeding a considerable distance, bent again with a sharp angle towards the South; having been dug along the steep in such a manner, as to make the passage practicable, and tolerably safe. Gen. Putnam under the influence of the same spirit, with which he entered the wolf's den, being hard pressed by his pursuers, forced his horse directly down the precipice; winding his course, how

ever, in such a zig-zag direction, as enabled him to keep his feet. His pursuers, when they came to the top of the precipice, struck with astonishment, or rather with horrour, stopped; and, despairing of overtaking him by the circuitous course of the road, gave over the chase. Every traveller who has heard the story, has not improbably felt his blood chill at the bare thought of such an adventure. The road is, however, so much altered at the present time, as to prevent the eye from easily realizing the full extent of the hazard. It is now blown through the rocks above, at a great expense; and continued by a causey from the foot of the chasm to the valley below, in the very direction, where the General descended.

On the brow of this hill stands a small decayed Episcopal Church. This is the building, pompously exhibited in that mass of folly and falsehood, commonly called Peters' History of Connecticut, as of such magnificence, that it is ascended by a flight of no less than seventy steps. The truth is, that the members of the Congregation, who lived below the hill, being unwilling to take the tedious circuit of the road, when walking to the church, and being unable to ascend the hill in its original state, gathered a collection of stones from the road, and the neighbouring enclosures, and placed them at convenient distances, to aid themselves in climbing this steep. The number is commonly reported to be seventy; but, instead of being a magnificent flight of steps, conducting to a magnificent church, the appearance of the former is so insignificant, that a traveller, unless he has happened to observe, what indeed would very naturally escape his observation; the regularity of their arrangement; would not distinguish them from the common stones of the street. The latter is one of the most indifferent buildings, which bears the name of a church, of any denomination in the State of Connecticut.

Greenwich, the first, or oldest, parish in this township, is separated from West-Greenwich by Mianus river; a sprightly millstream, entering the Sound about four miles from Byram. The surface of this parish, also, is generally rough, and the soil excellent; especially towards the Sound. The inhabitants have been