idences on
Long Island and in Westchester County, before his final return to the
City in 1811, he made his home for the rest of his life. He was granted
the freedom of the City, April 1st, 1789; and shortly after engaged in a
different calling, but five years later resumed the old one, and
successively sailed (sometimes as part owner), the Deborah--named for
his mother--the Packet, Neptune, Rising-Sun, Ambition, Venus and Hunter.
It was while sailing the Hunter, during the last war with England, that
in coming out of Mamaroneck Harbor (September 17th, 1813), he narrowly
escaped capture by one of the enemy's vessels; a market boat which they
had seized and manned, to more easily entrap ours. The Captain thought
they acted strangely, but discovered their real character only when they
bore down and rounded to, with intent to board him. But the Captain was
too quick for them. Ordering the passengers below, he instantly tacked
about, the bullets now flying thick around him, and shouting to the foe
to _fire away, it was not the first time they had wasted powder on him_,
he was soon beyond their reach, and got in safely, with no other damage
than sails riddled, and a few holes in the hull. The people ashore,
having heard the firing and alarmed for the Captain's safety, were
overjoyed, and came out in small boats to help him in. There were
several little incidents connected with this adventure. A brave woman on
board, a Mrs. Wallace, insisted upon rowing with a sweep, till fairly
forced to desist and go below. The cabin-boy when told to go down,
demurred, saying, "Captain, when your head is off, I'll take the helm."
A few days before, the Captain going into the country to buy produce,
had told his son David to keel up the vessel and give it a coat of
tallow, which preserved the timbers, kept her tight and helped her
sailing. David obeyed orders, but so thoroughly and well, that he ran up
a big score for tallow at the store, to the astonishment of his father
when he came to see the bill, and who gave David a round reprimand for
his extravagance. But after the trial of speed with the enemy, "David,"
said the Captain, patting his son on the shoulder, "we hadn't a bit too
much tallow on to-day!"

Speaking of David, he was in one respect "a chip of the old block," he
relished a joke next the best. And so it happened on an occasion, that
the schooner lay at Cow Harbor, loading with wood, when a Montauk Indian
came aboard, asking a pa