Southport telegraph. [volume] (Southport, W.T. [i.e. Kenosha, Wis.]) 1840-1850, 1844-12-10
From a New York Paper.
THE OLD SUGAR-HOUSE PRISON

who have gene before tho fl O the spot on
which stood this prison will be sought for
with more than antiquarian interest. 1t was
founded in 1863, and coupled as a sugar.
tefning manufac:ory till l776, WREN Lord
Howe converted il into place Of confne-
ment for the American prisoners. At the
conclusion of the war for Independence, the
business Of sugar-refning was resumed and
continued until 1889 or 1910, when il was
leyeled TO the ground TO make way for a
block of buildings wherein to stow Yankee
ru \ and New Oileans moasses. Pity il
was ever demolished. With reasonable
care it might haze stood a thousand years,
a monument to all generations of the pains,
penalties, sufferings and deaths their fathers
met in procuring the blessings they now in
hcri,. 1t stood Oh the southeast a1d adj
joining the grave yard around the Middle
Dutch Church, said church being now boun-
died by Liberty, Nassau and Cedar streets.
Bat, as it is sad, this church is soon to be-
come pos:-ofiice. The loveling spirit of
tho day is roofing up and destroying every
landmark and vcstige of antiquity about the
city, and il is probable that in the year
Goal, there will not be man in New York
who can point out the spot waereon stood
"a prison whose history is so feelingly con-
nected with our revolutionary traditions.
On the 18th of Jnno, 1901, came to
reside in Liberty street, between Nassau
street and Broadway, where | dweit forty
years. As the events recorded in this his
tory and but recently TRANSFERRED, had fire.
qucnt opportunities Of seeing and CONVEX
sing with the men who had been actors in
tbc scenes. Some of anecdotes | heard
from the lips Of General Alexander Haml-
ton, General Morgan LAWS, Colonel Rich
ard Varick, the venerable John Pintard, and
other revolutionary worthless, then in the
ltImo Of lif., but now all numbered with
ihe dead
'fl within few yc.sj past there s God,
in Lii CIV street., a dar,; stone builEng,
grown gray and rusty with age, with small
deep windows, exhibiting Dungeon y @
aspect, and transporting the memory TO the
scenes Of lorncr days, when the revolution
poured lis dasolaring waves over TIC faircst
cotton of our country. 1t was five stores
high and each story WAS divided INTO Two
draary apartments, with ceiling so low, and
the light from The windows 80 DIN, that a
stranger would ieldily take the place for a
Jail. Ga The stones IN the walls, and on
many of the bricks under the Office windows,
are still to be seen initials AMI anc 'ent dates,
as if done with a pen-knfo or nail; this
was The work Of many Of the American phi
soners, who adopted this, among other
means 20 VIII le away their weeks ard ye rs
L.
is strong ial-lke door opening on Liberty
street, and another OH the sou beast, de-
scendng into small dismal cellar, scarce
allowing the midday san TO pcep through its
window graiings
When first saw tbs u,lding fif-
~ years ago-ihere was a walk nearly broad
enough for cart TO travel round it; but o.
late years wing has been added to the
northeast end, which shuts up this walk
where, for many long days and nights. two
British and Hcssan soldiers walked their
weary rounds, guarding the American pris-
oners. For thirty years after | settled in
Liberty street, this house was of.en visited
By one and another of these wa--worn vet
srans-men OF whom the present political
1orldlings ere not worthy. | often heard
them repeat the story Of their suite iags and
sorrows, but always with grateful acknowl
Judgments to Him who guides the destnie:
of men as we'll as of nations.
One morning, when returning from the
old Fly mlket at the foot Of Maiden Lana
noticed two of those old soldiers in The
sugar-house yard. They had only three
legs between them--one having a wooder
leg. | stopped moment to listen to thel
conversation; and as they were stowly mo
wing from the yard, said 10 them:
"Gendemcn do either Of you rsmembe
this old building 2"
"Ay, indeed, / shall never forget it," re
piled he ofone leg. ''For twelve months
that dark hole (pointing TO the CELLAR wa
nay only home and at the door saw the
corpse of my brother thrown into the deat
cart, among heap of others, who died il
the night previous, of Jail fever. While the
fever, was raging. we were let out in com
panies of twenty, for half an hour at a time
to breathe the fresh air andinslde We wor,
SO crowded that we divided our numbe
into squads of six each. No. l stood tel
minutes as close 10 the window as the,
could crowd, to catch the cool air, and thel
stepped back, when No. = took their places
and SO on. Seats we had none and on
beds were but straw on. tho floor, with yer
min ntermixed. And there Cconiaued he
pointing with his cane TO brick in the
walD is my kill.tme work: "a. V. s.,
I777," viz Abraham Van Seeker, which
scratched with an old mil. When peace
came, some learned the fate of their fathers
and brothers from such initials"
My house being near by, | asked them
to step in and take bite. In answer to
my inquiry as TO how he lost his leg, he re.
lated the following circumstances
I'm l717," said he 50 | was quartered at
beliy'ile' New Jersey, with part of he ar
my under Colonel Cor,landt. Gen. Howe
had possession of New York. and we every
moment expected an attack from Henry
Clinton. Delay made us less vigIaut, and
we were surprised, defe.ted, and many
slain and made prisoners. We marched
fiom Newark; crossn NJ the Passaic AID Hec-
snsack rivers in boats. The road through
the swamp was corduroy that u.s.: pine