1 82 WINTER SKETCHES. 



Riding again through the town of Haver- 

 straw, and following for a few miles further 

 along the bank of the river, I think of more 

 Revolutionary incidents than I have space to 

 chronicle. All the way from Nyack to Haver- 

 straw, wherever a landing could be found, 

 the British made their incessant raids. Had 

 the people been united, few and scattered as 

 they were, these incursions would have been 

 of less account. In our late sectional war 

 we were geographically divided, and for the 

 most part States were open adversaries of 

 States, but in that of the old days no man 

 could tell if his next-door neighbor was his 

 friend or his enemy. 



Far greater atrocities were perpetrated by 

 Tory townsmen on the patriots among whom 

 they dwelt, with whom they professed friend- 

 ship and worshipped God, than by the invad- 

 ing British troops. It is not surprising that 

 when the war was over, the property of the 

 Tories was confiscated, and they themselves 

 were driven into exile. In the ancient local 

 histories we read of assassinations and brutali- 

 ties almost incredible, occurring in this region 

 of the country settled by quiet Dutchmen, 

 surpassing in enormity anything of their na- 



