Colonial days in old New York

								

settlers as their homelikeness. They made the new strange land and the
new little towns seem like the Fatherland. The Indians greatly feared
them; as one chronicler states, “they durst not come near their long
arms and big teeth biting the corn in pieces.” Last, and not least
in the minds of the thrifty Dutch, the windmills helped to turn to
profit the rich harvests of grain which were the true foundation of the
colony’s prosperity,--not the rich peltries of beaver, as was at first
boastfully vaunted by the fur-traders.
As the day wore on, the day’s work was ended, and a neighborly
consultation and exchange of greetings formed the day’s recreation. The
burgher went to the little market-house, and with his neighbors and a
few chance travellers, such as the skippers on the river-sloops, he
smoked again his long pipe and talked over the weighty affairs of the
colonie. In the summer-time goodman and goodwife both went from stoop
to stoop of the close-gathered houses, for a klappernye, or chat all
together. This was a feature of the colony, architectural and social,
and noted by all travellers,--“the benches at the door, on which the
old carls sit and smoke.” Here the goodwife recounted the simple events
of the day,--the number of skeins of yarn she had spun; the yards of
linen she had woven; the doings of the dye-pot; the crankiness of the
churning, to which she had sung her churning charm,--



    “Buitterchee, buitterchee, comm

    Alican laidlechee tubichee vall.”
Perhaps she told her commeres, her gossips, of a fresh suspicion of
a betrothal, or perhaps sad news of a sick neighbor or a funeral. This
was never scandal, for each one’s affairs were every one’s affairs; in
the weal or woe of one the whole community joined, and in many of the
influences or effects of that weal or woe all had a part. It was noted
by historians that the Dutch were most open in discussion of all the
doings of the community, and had no dread of publicity of every-day
life.
Of this habit of colonial neighborliness, Mrs. Anne Grant wrote in
her “Memoir of an American Lady”--Madam Schuyler--from contemporary
knowledge of early life in Albany:--


“The life of new settlers in a situation like this, when the very
foundations of society were to be laid, was a life of exigencies.
Every individual took an interest in the general welfare, and
contributed their respective shares of intelligence and sagacity to
aid plans that embraced important objects relative to the common good.
This community seemed to have a common stock, not only of sufferings
and enjoyments, but of information and ideas.”
When the sun was setting and the cows came home, the family gathered on
stools and forms around the well-supplied board, and a plentiful supper
of suppawn and milk and a sallet filled the hungry mouths, and was
eaten from wooden trenchers and pewter porringers with pewter or silver
spoons. The night had come; here were shelter and a warm hearthstone,