The Tories after the Revolution
The bitter animosity engendered during the Revolutionary war between the Whigs and Tories did not subside immediately after the treaty of peace in 1783. The few of the latter who remained in the country were ever after subjected to social ostracism, and were most fortunate if they escaped personal violence. The patriotic inhabitants of the frontier could not so soon forget the manner in which their babes had been taken from the cradle and from the breasts of their mothers, and their brains dashed out, by the hated and despised Tories; nor could they blot from their memory the fact that those foes to their country, while professing friendship to the Whigs, acted as spies for the enemy, and secretly joined the predatory bands of Indians in their incursions against their nearest neighbors of the settlements, and shared in the booty while they excelled their savage allies in deeds of inhumanity. Indeed, this anti-Tory feeling only died out when the last patriot of the Revolution expired. That there would be numerous collisions between the two factions was to be expected, as that would be no more than the legitimate result of such bitter personal resentment; nor could the wranglings cease except with the death of the parties.
At a militia training in Rochester, about the year 1783, several individuals who were known to be Tories attended. The patriots regarded them with undisguised hatred, and were indignant at their presumption in being present, and only waited the slightest pretext to gratify their ill-feeling by a pitched battle. They did not hesitate to call them Tories to their very faces and hard words passed on both sides. At last a Whig gave a Tory a kick, which was repaid with interest by a blow. Others fell in on both sides, and a general and desperate skirmish ensued. As nothing but fists and clubbed muskets were used, the fight was long and obstinate, but attended with no fatal results. When the affray was over, the Tories bent their steps homeward, meeting a Whig on their way, on whom they administered some retaliatory vengeance. Bruised and bloody, he presented himself before the other Whigs and related what had occurred, adding that the Tories were loading their pieces with balls. The Whigs then charged their guns likewise, and went in pursuit of the offenders; presently coming in sight of them they opened fire, but fortunately none were killed.
One who went by the name of “The Tory Van Vleet” lived back of Newtown, in the present town of Rochester. He was taken prisoner at Minisink, and forwarded without much ceremony by the various captains from one military post to another until he was brought up before Captain Kortright, of Rochester. That stern old patriot did not deem it best to let Van Vleet pass his bands without some ceremony suited to the times and the occasion. He ordered out a portion of his company with a fife and drum. Then stripping his prisoner, he caused a liberal allowance of tar and feathers to be applied to his person, and a long yoke with a bell was fastened to his neck by way of distinguished compliment. A negro then went ahead with a rope attached to the yoke, by which he was led along to the next station, which was at Mill Hook. The Rogue's March was struck up, and a few soldiers with charged bayonets followed to spur him up occasionally. Sometimes the negro would give the rope a jerk, when the bell would give a melodious tinkle, blending beautifully with the martial music.
“The Tory Van Vleet” lived back of Newtown, in the present town of Rochester. He was taken prisoner at Minisink, and forwarded without much ceremony by the various captains from one military post to another until he was brought up before Captain Kortright, of Rochester. That stern old patriot did not deem it best to let Van Vleet pass his bands without some ceremony suited to the times and the occasion. He ordered out a portion of his company with a fife and drum. Then stripping his prisoner, he caused a liberal allowance of tar and feathers to be applied to his person, and a long yoke with a bell was fastened to his neck by way of distinguished compliment. A negro then went ahead with a rope attached to the yoke, by which he was led along to the next station, which was at Mill Hook. The Rogue's March was struck up, and a few soldiers with charged bayonets followed to spur him up occasionally. Sometimes the negro would give the rope a jerk, when the bell would give a melodious tinkle, blending beautifully with the martial music. There was another Tory by the name of Joe Westbrook, whose father lived in Minisink. On his way home from the war, Joe stopped at Andrew Bevier's, at Napanock, and made some enquiries, as though he were a stranger in those parts. It has been well observed that hypocrisy is ever addicted to overacting its part, and Joe's conduct at that time was no exception to the truth of the proverbial remark. In short his attempted deception was the occasion of adverse comment, and aroused the sentiment still more against him. A few warm-hearted patriots in and about Napanock embarked in a wagon and drove down the Mamakating valley in time to reach Minisink early in the evening. They looked in at the window, and saw the old man and his son Joe sitting and talking at the fire. Joe was boasting of his exploits against the Whigs in the late war-at least so thought the Napanock patriots. They surrounded the house, while Jacobus Chambers, a brave and hardy veteran, was chosen to enter.
Jacobus Chambers, a brave and hardy veteran, was chosen to enter.
A Tory tarred and feathered, yoked and belled
The moment the tap at the door was heard, Joe ran into an adjoining room. In response to a question from Chambers the old man solemnly declared “he had not seen his son Joe since the war.” Chambers replied, “Give me a candle and I will show you your son.” “But I have no candle,” persisted the old man. Chambers retorted, “I don't want your candle;” and producing a tallow dip from his pocket he proceeded to light it, and then moved towards the door where Joe had secreted himself.
“Loop, jo'ngen, loop!” (run, boy, run) sang out the old Tory, at the top of his voice. The boy started for the window, but two or three stalwart men were guarding it, and the poor fellow cried out, “Yes, dad, but it's full here too.” Joe was taken in the wagon back to Napanock, where a council of war was convened to deliberate on his case. Some were for hanging him outright as no more than a just recompense for his past misdeeds, while a few counseled a less rigorous punishment. It is said, while the deliberations were progressing, that Joe trembled and shook as did Belshazzar at the hand-writing on the wall of his palace, and could not conceal his pleasure when he saw the tar-bucket and feathers brought in, and judged by the preparations that it had been determined not to hang him. He was accordingly tarred and feathered, yoked and belled, in lieu of the paint which he had formerly used. From the yoke a rope was passed to a man on horseback, by which he was led out of town. On being released, he hired a negro in Rochester to clean him for fifty cents, and then returned to his home in Minisink.
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