Page 43
History of Orange County
Town of Newburgh
Page 43
This early and unexpected death of the father imposed new duties and heavy responsibilities on Mr. Jacob Powell, the eldest son, then only 16 years of age. We are warranted in saying that these duties and responsibilities, involving the care and protection of a sorrowing and widowed mother and orphan children, were affectionately and nobly discharged. In the expectation of bettering the condition of the family—a praiseworthy motive—they removed from Shelter Island to Marlborough, in the county of Ulster, but the field of operation proving too small and contracted for the expanding minds of Jacob and his brother Thomas, they again soon removed to the village of Newburgh, as a place of more probable growth and future commercial importance. Their judgment in this, as in other important transactions, proved to be correct and well founded. At this time a single dock and a store or two did all the business of the county at this place. The Powells, with all the energy of hopes of success—if it could be attained by care, intelligence and attention, entered into commercial business, and in a few years their characters were so well established, that their responsibility was known and appreciated from Albany to New York. As a true and natural consequence of such conduct, these gentlemen accumulated a large fortune, a part of which is now devoted to the extensive business operations of the village, disseminating its blessings and usefulness broadcast, not only over the village, but over the county at large.
Jacob Powell, after being afflicted a few years by a cancerous growth on his face, died in the 58th year of his age, unmarried. In relation to this individual, we have the unbroken voice of all who knew him, to justify us in saying, that he was not only sagacious and truly philosophic in the operations of his mind, but upright in his commercial transactions, and his word was as good as his bond.
These gentlemen, with their ample means and public spirit, largely contributed to build up and adorn the village, and gave employment to hundreds of laborers and mechanics.
Having mentioned one member of this family, we cannot consent to omit a notice of the younger brother, Mr. THOMAS POWELL, who will pardon the freedom we assume in placing his name in our paper. Indeed, so broad and visible is the form of this gentleman, and the things which belong to him, that we cannot stir anywhere abroad in this locality, without being reminded of his presence, or running against him, directly or indirectly. Truly, and without offence, we may say that, if Jacob had the head to plan and conceive an operation, Thomas was the very one to execute it in all its details.
Though not large in person, yet possessing a well-knit frame and good health, few men were more rugged and enduring of bodily labor and exercise than he. We question, unless Mr. Powell was sick, if the sun in a quarter of a century saw him in bed. Early rising, united with daily exercise, doubtless contribute to health and longevity, and is worth a shop full of medicine. The business operations of this gentleman seem to grow in magnitude and interest, and increase with his years; which, as Newburgh is conditioned, is a happy circumstance to the present welfare and future prosperity of the village. At this day, Mr. Thomas Powell must be considered the great patron of the place—being engaged, and using freely his unbounded wealth, in all the operations demanding the employment and expenditure of that pecuniary means. Of the truth of this remark, expensive buildings, such as the United States Hotel, several very expensive Docks, the Ferry across the River, four Steamers, with large subscriptions to stock in the Branch Rail Road, and Cotton Factory, the Powell Bank—themselves amounting to many hundred thousand dollars, are satisfactory evidence, and will, as they ought, earn for Mr. Powell, the good will and gratitude of the community. As far as we can, we cast in our humble tribute to produce the desired result.
We dare not to be more particular in speaking of this gentleman’s personal affairs or private deportment—in the character of husband, father, friend—but we may be permitted without offence to state that he is personally unostentatious, liberal where it is a virtue to be so, and that his well-stored mansion is free and open as a hotel to his friends and neighbors, while never closed against the wants of the needy. The time to say more is not yet, and may the period be slow in its coming. The citizens at large, will admit the village and her important and still extending interests largely benefited by the lives and residence of Jacob and Thomas Powell.
ROBERT LUDLOW.—We mention this gentleman to take occasion to introduce some of his descendants. He came from Warwick to Newburgh in 1796, and there spent the residue of his life. His daughter Mary is the wife of Thomas Powell, Esq., and well known in this vicinity as a lady dispensing her kind offices and unostentatious hospitality among our citizens for time quarter of a century past.
AUGUSTUS C. LUDLOW, his youngest son was born in 1792, appointed a midshipman in 1804, served under his elder brother Charles—then a captain in the naval service, Commodore Barron, and Captain Rogers for several years, with great acceptance and practical skill. In June, 1813, as Lieutenant under Captain Lawrence, on board the ill-fated Chesapeake, he fought the celebrated battle with the Shannon, English frigate. This, beyond question, was one of the severest, bloodiest, and most destructive battles that took place on the ocean, both as regarded men and officers, the deck grade of whom were all killed or wounded. Lawrence was killed in the early part of the action, and the fate of the ship and crew, with the unsullied honor of the navy and country devolved a frightful and overwhelming responsibility on young Ludlow, in discharge of which he forfeited his life, and placed it an offering upon her altar. He received a sabre cut on the head, which paralyzed further resistance, and by boarding the enemy carried the vessel. After surrender, the ship, with Ludlow, and the dead body of Lawrence were taken into Halifax, and the gallant commander buried with military honors. In the solemn train that followed the corpse of the slain hero, but one solitary distinguished American mourner was seen—the rest reposed in the bosom of the Atlantic. Young Ludlow, with head bound up, tearless eye, and feelings too deep for utterance, was that solitary mourner. Returned from the grave of his commander, he fell from his chair, a lifeless corpse, overcome by his own wounds and the excitement of the transaction. There he too was buried in a soldier’s grave, but both were subsequently brought home to the and they fought for. The conduct of this heroic youth was worthy his honored line and ancient lineage. They lifted their voices loud in Parliament, and their swords high in battle for English liberty: he gave his life for a cause of kindred character. Peace to the memory of this gallant boy. The poetry of future ages shall hymn, and eloquence celebrate, his death and heroic deeds.