Chapter 11
SOUTH PLAINFIELD IN 1900
Last August [in 1986], an archaeological crew conducted an excavation in our town at the site of the New Brooklyn Mill. Although they only spent a week on site, the data that was recovered in that short space of time has occupied the attention of a number of people for the past seven months. Over 750 artifacts were recovered, several rolls of pictures were taken and the site report is upward of 120 page long.
Most people think of an excavation as the main thrust of an archaeological project, but it is only a fraction of the total picture. The work of organization and study of the recovered data is the least exciting but the most informative part of the job. From the work done on the New Brooklyn Mill Archaeological Project, we find a picture of the town of South Plainfield emerging that is different from what many people believed.
The South Plainfield of 1900 was surrounded by farms but was by no means a farming community. Within one half mile of the center of town were located a grist mill, a lactose factory, a water pumping station, a water filtration plant, a saw mill, a coal storage yard, service areas for steam locomotives, and freight handling facilities for the railroad. Several of these operations worked around the clock on a seven day a week basis.
If one is to take into account stores, boarding houses, a school, railroad operations, and the workers needed to construct and maintain such things, it seems obvious that farming was, at best, a part-time occupation for the majority of residents of South Plainfield. By 1900, their means of existence had come to depend upon a robust industrial economy.
It was a blue collar community. Although some of the older families were in a comfortable financial situation, little evidence is found of the expensive objects that people of the time displayed as signs of wealth. The working class families of South Plainfield did not have the money to acquire such objects as imported porcelain or fancy silverware.
One of the most interesting facts to come to light was the importance of railroads to the local economy. Because of its location close to Plainfield, the most important city in Central Jersey, the railroad built a station in our town and all the passenger and many freight trains stopped there. In those days all roads were dirt and people and goods could only travel overland by horse and wagon. Thus, railroads became very important to the movement of people and freight. All manner of things traveled by rail, even over very short distances such as Somerville to Plainfield.
Objects were uncovered on the mill site that came from such places as Elizabeth, Newark and Somerville. These towns were stops along the Lehigh Valley and the parallel Jersey Central railroads. Oddly enough, nothing has been found that could be traced to New Brunswick, Trenton or any other towns along the Pennsylvania Railroad. The economic and social spheres created by the railroads in the late 19th century have only begun to blur within the last two decades.
Of course, many questions remain to be answered. The ruins of the New Brooklyn Mill represent a building of fairly substantial proportions. It was capable of grinding perhaps as much as 20 tons of grain a day at full capacity. Considering that several other such mills were in operation at the same time, could this area have produced this much grain? Possibly it was being shipped in from Somerset and Hunterdon counties.
The age of the ruins has also not been established. There is little doubt that they extend back at least as far as the Civil War. Research indicates that the mill is at least a century and a half older, yet proof of this has not yet been found on the site.
At one time, as many as six grist mills operated in Piscataway Township alone. Is New Brooklyn Mill typical of these mills? Lack of knowledge of mill operations in Central Jersey has made it difficult to answer such a question. Our grist mill, even in ruins, appears to be the best preserved mill in Central Jersey. Much still remains to be learned.
For many years, the story of our town's past was handed down by word of mouth. In recent years, the efforts of the South Plainfield Historical Society have served to correct misinformation, fill in the gaps, and show us how full and colorful our past has really been.
Chapter 35
LOCAL SKIRMISHES OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR
There had been a bad sleet and snow storm on the night of January 29, 1777, but by the first of February the weather had cleared and some of the snow had begun to melt.
This was good news to the 5,000-man British garrison at New Brunswick, for their supply situation was becoming desperate. Ever since the American victories at Trenton and Princeton, over a month before, the New Jersey militia, angered by the looting and lawlessness of the British army, had become more and more aggressive. Acting in concert with Washington's army headquartered in Morristown, they had made the roads of central New Jersey so hazardous that it was almost impossible to transport supplies from New York to New Brunswick.
On the morning of February 1st, Brigadier-General Sir William Erskine marched out of New Brunswick at the head of 180 men of the 42nd Royal Highland Regiment (Black Watch). They were soon joined by 850 men and a large numer of wagons under the command of Lieutenant Colonel the Honorable William Harcourt. These officers were under orders to secure forage for the horses of the army at New Brunswick.
Moving northeast toward Metuchen, they passed through country that had been stripped of all supplies. At Drakes' Farm, located near Metuchen somewhat to the east of the present-day Rt. 287/New Durham Avenue intersection, the column came upon fields which had not been plundered and upon which were located a number of haystacks. With the Black Watch standing guard, the troops fell out and began to load the wagons.
The Americans were not caught napping. Alerted by the watchful militia, 600 Connecticut and Virginia continentals under the command of Colonel Charles Scott formed up in their camp at Quibbletown (New Market) at about 10 o'clock in the morning. Marchng down Stelton Road, they paused while scouts were sent out. When these returned, the Americans marched down present-day New Durham Road where they encourtered a picket of five light cavalrymen detached by General Erskine. The Americans opened fire. Four men got away but the officer in charge was captured.
It was now almost 2 o'clock in the afternoon. The British had almost finished loading the hay when the lead unit of the American detachment, 90 men commanded by Colonel Scott, attacked. Behind these men came the main body commanded by Colonel Andrew Ward of the Connecticut Regiment.
Divided into three columns, the Americans tried to outflank the British, but they were amateur soldiers led by inexperienced officers. The assault was badly coordinated and did not arrive with sufficient force to break the British line. The Black Watch held their ground as the other troops grabbed their muskets and fell in. These were disciplined soldiers, veterans of the great battlefields of Europe. They knew their business well.
The Hessian Grenadiers took a position to the right of the Black Watch. The 1st Battalion Grenadiers took a position on the right of them and forced Scott's men back. The Light Infantry came up beside the Grenadiers and the Americans found themselves in danger of being surrounded. They fled from the field and took shelter behind fences, walls and trees on the edge of the field and in a nearby woods.
Not all of them made it. Adjutant Kelly, Lieutenant Gregory, and five enlisted men of the Virginia line were still lying wounded in the field. Ordering his men to leave him behind and save themselves, Kelly attempted to surrender to the British. He was clubbed to death with his own musket. The others were bayoneted to death and their clothes were torn apart in a search for valuables.
The Americans watched all this in helpless fury, for there was little that they could do. General Erskine had brought up a cannon and the gunners made sure that the American's stayed out of musket range of the Royal Army. Elisha Bostwick, a Connecticut soldier, later summed up the problem:
They brought their artillery to bear upon us and we, having none, retreated.
The British quickly finished loading the hay and hurried down the road to New Brunswick, leaving their dead on the field.
It was a brief but costly engagement. The Americans had lost three officers and thirteen enlisted men killed, and twenty-two wounded. British losses were one officer (Lt. G.A. Cunninghamme of the 22nd Regiment Light Company) and six enlisted men killed, and twenty-three wounded. The enlisted men were buried on the battlefield. The officers' bodies were carried back to Quibbletown for burial. The locations of all these graves are not known today.
But the matter was not yet settled. That night it turned warm and it rained. The hay in the fields began to rot and, as the days wore on, the problem of feeding the animals became more and more severe for the beleagured British force. In the days to come they would be forced further and further afield in their search for supplies.
There would be a skirmish at Bound Brook on the 6th of February, one at Quibbletown on the 8th, again at Quibbletown on the 20th of February and the 8th of March, at Samptown on the 9th of March, and once more at Quibbletown on the 10th and 20th.
As column after column of exhausted men staggered back to New Brunswick with as many wagon loads of wounded men and supplies, it became obvious that the Royal Army could not hope to live off the countryside. If General Howe did not soon take action to relieve or reinforce the garrison at New Brunswick, it might very well starve, if the Americans did not kill it off first.
Chapter 36
SEPARATING FACTS FROM LORE
Many residents have remarked to me that they have found my columns about the local Indians to be quite interesting. While I thank them for their kind remarks, I have gathered from their comments that they seem confused about a single point: the Indians who lived in South Jersey were not of the same tribe as the Indians who lived in South Plainfield. This misconception has come from the large amount of misinformation that has been passed off as history over the last 200 years.
The first European explorers to come to this area found many small groups of people living throughout what is today New Jersey, New York City and Long Island. These groups were largely independent of each other and, although they considered themselves to be members of a larger group, they did not have the political organization or leadership that we associate with a tribal group.
They called themselves "Lenape" [pronounced len-NAW-pay] which means "ordinary people." This was said much in the same spirit that you would say, "I am a man" or "I am a woman." In fact, the term "Lenni Lenape" is redundant, meaning something like "common ordinary people."
The name "Delaware" can also be misleading as it is not an Indian word. The English named the bay to the south of New Jersey "De la Warre Bay," in honor of Sir Thomas West, the third Lord De la Warre and governor of the Virginia colony. This became corrupted into "Delaware" and was applied to all of the Indians living along the Delaware River, and to other bands living in New Jersey.
The Lenape were not divided into three tribes as some have been led to believe. That idea came from the bad translation of an eighteenth century manuscript about these people that was written in German by a Moravian missionary named David Ziesberger. He did not use the word "tribe," but wrote of "Hauptstame" or "principal branches."
These three groups -- wolf, turkey and turtle -- were clan groupings and served purposes of lineage and regulation of marriage partners. If you were a wolf, you could not marry a wolf but must marry a turkey or a turtle. Children were born a member of the same clan as their mothers. These clans were not separated; every village contained members of all three groups.
The fact is that the Indians considered themselves to be divided into two groups. They considered the dividing line between them to be the Raritan River from its mouth to the source of its north branch, and then cross country to the area of present day Easton, Pa. (Falls of the Delaware).
North of this line were the "Munsee" (people of the stony ground). South of the line were the "Unami" (people from down river). These two names originated in the historic period. We are not sure what these groups originally called themselves, but it is obvious that although they shared many similar customs and ways of life, they were different in language, cultural and burial practices, and in the use of certain stone tools.
These differences could be quite pronounced. For example, although both groups spoke the Algonquain language, those from the north spoke a different dialect from those of the south. These dialects were so different that Munsee speaking Indian and an Unami speaking Indian would have trouble understanding each other.
In fact, present day Munsees from Canada and Delawares from Oklahoma are quick to point out that they are not from the same tribe, and take offense at people who insist that they are.
The people who lived in South Plainfield called themselves "Raritan" or "Raritaing." It is obvious that they were of the Munsee group. They referred to northern bands such as the Hackensacks, Minnisinks and Tappans as their "brothers" and southern bands like the Sankhikan, Remkokes and Armewamex as their "cousins," indicating that they felt closer kinship to the northern groups. In 1756 the Raritans sat with other Munsee groups at the Treaty of Easton conference and there, along with these groups, sold their land claims to their lands to the colony of New Jersey.
There seems to be some archaeological evidence to support this association with the northern groups. Pottery found in South Plainfield is of the highly decorated, cord-marked style typical of the Munsee groups and not at all like the simple, colorless vessels found in South Jersey. Arrowheads also are of the styles most commonly found in North Jersey and less commonly found in South Jersey.
The Raritans, too, lacked the type of tribal organization that one might expect them to have. As with neighboring groups, the basic political unit was the village. All decisions affecting the group were made by a council consisting of all the adult males. The matter at hand was discussed with due consideration for pomp and ceremony and no decision could be reached until all were in agreement. Women were not allowed within the council circle but were known to stand outside of it and, on occasion, shout their opinions.
*Reprinted with permission from the NJN Family of Newspapers