BURNING OF MADAME'S AUTHOR IT Chapter VIII THE HOUSE AT THE FLATS — T was at this time, when she was in the very acme of her reputation, and her name never mentioned without some added epithet of respect or affection, that her house, so long the receptacle of all that was good or intelligent, and the asylum of all that was helpless and unfortunate, was entirely consumed before her eyes. In the summer of this year, as General Bradstreet was riding by the Flats one day, and proposing to call on Madame, he saw her sitting in a great chair under the little avenue of cherry trees that led from her house to the road. All the way as he approached he saw smoke, and at last flames, bursting out from the top of her house. He was afraid to alarm her suddenly; but when he told her, she heard it with the utmost composure; pointed out the likeliest means to check the fire; and ordered the neighbors to be summoned, and the most valuable goods first removed, without ever attempting to go over the house herself, when she knew she could be of no service; but with the most admirable presence of mind, she sat still with a placid countenance, regulating and ordering everything in the most judicious manner, and with as much compos ure as if she had nothing to lose.1 When evening came, of that once happy mansion not a single 1 The house of Madame Schuyler was burnt in 1763. Her father in 1680, came in possession of two houses on the south-east corner of State and Pearl Streets in the city of Albany, one of which stood until recently, the other having been removed to widen Pearl Street. In one of these houses Madame Schuyler lived while her house at the Flats was in process of rebuilding. The house now occupied by the widow and daughter of Mr. Richard Schuyler is known to have been built upon the foundation of the old one, and of the same dimensions and style of architecture. That portion of the wall of the burnt house, forming the north-west corner, is still discernible in the present structure, of which an engraving is here presented. The house stands a few rods from the river bank, facing the east, and has the same aspect as when built more than a century ago. A handsome baywindow was placed over the porch in May, 1881, from which a fine view was obtained. The front door, which is divided laterally, in the fashion of the day, into an upper and lower door, still retains its quaint old brass knocker; and the same shutters, with their curious fastenings and hinges, remain as when it was built, in 1772, by the grandfather of the late Mr. John C. Schuyler, who leased the premises after beam was left, and the scorched brick walls were all that remained to mark where it had stood. Madame could not be dwelling, having a house than the one destroyed. said to be left without a in Albany rather larger But she was fondly at tached to the spot which had been the scene of so much felicity, and rendered more dear to her by retaining within its bounds the remains of her beloved partner. She removed to Pedrom's house for the night. The news of what had happened spread every where; and she had the comfort of knowing, in consequence of this misfortune, better than she could by any other means, how great a degree of public esteem and private gratitude she had excited. The next day people came from all quarters to condole, and ask her directions where and how she would choose to have another house built. And in a few days the ground was covered with bricks, timber, and other materials, brought there by her friends in voluntary kindness. It is to be observed that the people in the interior of New York were so exceedingly skillful in the use not only of the axe, but all ordinary tools used in the fire. The scene looking south from this spot is one of great beauty, stretching over a level plain reaching to the site of the Van Rensselaer mansion about three or four miles below, skirted by the river on the east and the Erie Canal on its western border. 1 This house was on the south side of State Street opposite North Pearl Street. It was owned and occupied by Madame's father, who directed in his will that she should have the use of it during life. Some years after the Revolution, it was removed for the opening of South Pearl Street. VOL. II. -4 planing and joining timber, that with the aid of a regular carpenter or two to carry on the nicer parts of the work, a man could build an ordinary house, if it were a wooden one, with very little more than his own domestics. It can scarce be credited that this house, begun in August, was ready for aunt's reception against winter, which here begins very early. But General Bradstreet1 had sent some of the king's workmen, considering them as employed for the public service, while carrying on this building. The most unpleasant circumstance about this new dwelling, was the melancholy hiatus which appeared in front, where the former large house had stood, and where the deep and spacious cellars still yawned in gloomy desolation. Madame, who no longer studied appearance, but merely thought of a temporary accommodation, for a life which neither she nor any one expected to be a long one, ordered a broad wooden bridge, like those we see over rivers. This bridge was furnished with seats like a portico, and this with the high walls of the burnt house, which were a kind of screen before the new one, 1 John Bradstreet was quarter-master general, whose career has been sketched by Dr. O'Callaghan in "Colonial Documents of New York," VIII, 379. His statement of Indian affairs in the war with Pontiac is to be found in the " Diary of the Siege of Detroit," published in IV, "Munsell's Hist. Series.' His papers are preserved in the New York State Library at Albany. The house occupied by Gen. Philip Schuyler in Albany, one of the historical mansions of that city, was built by the wife of General Bradstreet during his absence at Oswego. He filled with distinguished ability various important offices, civil and military, and died 25 September, 1774, aged 63. gave the whole the appearance of some ancient ruin. Madame did not find the winter pass comfortably. That road, now that matters were regularly settled, was no longer the constant resort of her military friends. Her favorite nieces were too engaging, and too much admired, to leave room to expect they should remain with her. She found her house comparatively cold and inconvenient, and the winter long and comfortless. She could not now easily go the distance to church. Pedrom, that affectionate and respected brother, was now, by increasing deafness, disqualified from being a companion; and sister Susan, infirm and cheerless, was now, for the most part, confined to her chamber. Under these circumstances she was at length prevailed on to remove to Albany. The Flats she gave in lease to Pedrom's son Stephen. The house and surrounding grounds were let to an Irish gentleman, who came over to America to begin a new course of life, after spending his fortune in fashionable dissipation. On coming to America, he found that there was an intermediate state of hardship and selfdenial to be encountered, before he could enter on that fancied Arcadia which he thought was to be found in every wood. He settled his family in this temporary dwelling, while he went to traverse the provinces in search of some unforfeited Eden, where the rose had no thorn, and the course of ceaseless labor had not begun to operate. Madame found |