When most Americans think about the American Revolution, it is the Founding Fathers who most often come to mind. If women emerge, it is likely the wealthy, White, well-educated wives of those Founding Fathers such as Abigail Adams or Martha Washington. But the Revolutionary War touched the lives of nearly every American, regardless of the side they chose to support. In Westchester County, the epicenter of so much violence during the war, that is especially true.
Women of all backgrounds in Colonial America lived legally precarious lives. Unlike their Dutch compatriots, women under English rule were constantly subject to the control of the men in their lives. Under the law of coverture, a woman and her husband were legally considered one person, with the husband “covering” the wife. In practice, all of her property and her children belonged to him. She could not represent herself in court, own property, run a business, or enter into contracts without her husband’s consent. Only widowed women had control over their own finances, and usually only if they had no male children, or if their husbands made specific provisions for them in their wills.
Society in Colonial New York was also socially and financially stratified. Wealthy White people, especially those of English or Dutch descent, made up a literal ruling class. In the decades before public education, only the wealthy and middle classes could afford to educate their children, and many people were functionally illiterate. Lower classes, immigrants, Indigenous people, and Africans and people of African descent, most of whom were enslaved, were all treated with relative disdain by the upper classes. Social stratification was maintained by social conventions. Upper-class White women, in particular, were treated with care and deference – a social convention that helped gloss over their legal helplessness.1
The outbreak of the American Revolution upset many social conventions, particularly for women. Many husbands were called away to war, or fled violence. In the military, most enlisted men belonged to the lower classes, and most officers belonged to the middle and upper classes. In the British Army, officer commissions had to be purchased. In the Continental Army, they were assigned mostly to young White men who could read and write, but that generally excluded most of the lower classes. Some women accompanied their husbands to war – out of love, duty, or necessity.
The Patriot side is full of stories of Martha Washington, Lucy Flucker Knox, and Catharine "Kitty" Greene accompanying their husbands General George Washington, General Henry Knox, and Major-General Nathaniel Greene on campaign, if not to the frontlines. As officers’ wives, they generally got decent accommodations, food, and treatment. For enlisted men’s wives, life was much harder. Most were deemed “camp followers” – they shared their husbands’ rations and took on camp life tasks such as cooking, sewing, and laundry to earn money or their own rations. Although many women stayed home, those who could not afford to be without their husbands’ pay, whose farms were unmanageable for one person, or whose homes were in war-torn parts of the country, chose the relative safety of staying with their husbands, even in the midst of war. Some single women also chose to follow the armies – providing those same services of laundry, sewing, and cooking, but sometimes also acting as prostitutes – a potentially lucrative, if dangerous endeavor.
Some women, like Sarah Osborn, did not want to follow their husbands to war, but were left with little choice. Osborn was born in Orange County, NY, and was forced to follow her husband Aaron, who enlisted in the Continental Army. Osborn and her husband were stationed all over the colonies, including at Kingsbridge (today northern Manhattan) in 1776. She did laundry, cooked, and carried water and food to soldiers entrenched at the Battle of Yorktown. We know about Osborn thanks to her petition for a widow’s pension.2
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A few women found themselves on the battlefield. Some, like Margaret Corbin, acted as assistants to their husbands. Margaret was a nurse, and often carried water to the soldiers during battle, earning her the moniker “Molly Pitcher.”3 At the Battle of Fort Washington on Manhattan, Margaret had accompanied her husband and his artillery unit, who were firing from Bennet Hill. When her husband was killed in a Hessian attack, Margaret took up his place on the artillery piece until she was grievously wounded, ultimately losing an arm. Captured by the British, they released her as an injured soldier on parole. She eventually joined the Invalid Corps at West Point and in 1779 became the first woman to receive a military pension from Congress.
Other women disguised themselves and enlisted as soldiers outright. Deborah Sampson was one – she disguised herself as Robert Shurtliff, and because of her height and strength, became part of the elite Light Infantry unit of the Massachusetts Regiments. She saw action in Westchester County, including a 1782 battle outside of Tarrytown, NY where she was shot in the thigh. She was put on light duties as waiter to an officer, and by the end of the war her sex was revealed. She was honorably discharged by General Henry Knox at West Point and later received a military pension.
Enslaved women also served on the Patriot side, some accompanying enslaved husbands who were enlisted in their enslavers’ stead. Others escaped enslavement and found a measure of freedom in the chaos of troop movements and encampments.4 But for all the rhetoric on the Patriot side equating taxation without representation to slavery, enslavement of Africans and African descended people remained firmly entrenched.
While some women chose, for whatever reason, to go where the war was, other women had to endure the war coming to them.
When the Continental Army retreated from New York City and up to the Hudson Highlands in the fall of 1776, the lower Hudson Valley became trapped between two armies – the British in New York City and the Americans at Stony Point and Verplanck’s Point, and later West Point. Westchester County in particular, with its easy access to British-held New York along the Albany Post Road, became a target for foraging, raids, and battles between the armies. It became known as the “Neutral Zone,” as it was not reliably held by either side for most of the war. But the action seen in Westchester was anything but neutral.
Philipse Manor made up about a third of Westchester County, and almost all of it – from Kingsbridge to the Croton River and containing the Albany Post Road – saw predation from uniformed troops, militiamen, and vigilantes alike. Because of this, the Philipse women, the women they enslaved, and their female tenant farmers were vulnerable to violence, theft, and destruction of property.
Like most of America, Westchester County also had divided loyalties. New York was more conservative than the New England states, and many of its citizens remained loyal to the British Crown, including the Philipse family. But many others were fervent patriots, including the Jay, Van Cortlandt, and Livingston families, all related to the Philipses by blood or marriage. Within Philipse Manor itself, tenant farmers were divided, with some remaining loyal to their landlord Frederick Philipse III and King George III, and others aligning themselves with the Patriot cause. Still others tried to remain neutral, but often found themselves the victims of violence from both sides.
Mary Philipse Morris
Mary Philipse was the youngest surviving daughter of Frederick Philipse II and Johanna Brockholst Philipse. A wealthy heiress during the French & Indian War, she caught the eye of a young Lieutenant George Washington, but married dashing British Army officer Roger Morris instead. Together, they built Mount Morris, a beautiful white house on a bluff overlooking the Harlem River in Northern Manhattan. By 1775, fearing mounting Patriot violence from the Sons of Liberty and a potential recall to service in the British Army, Roger Morris fled to his family’s estate in England. He left Mary and the children in charge of Mount Morris, trusting Mary’s position as an upper-class White woman to protect her from violence.
When the British invaded Long Island in the summer of 1776 and the patriots retreated up Manhattan, Mary and her children fled to her brother’s house at Philipse Manor Hall. In September of 1776 during the Battle of Harlem Heights, George Washington occupied her house (Mount Morris) as a temporary headquarters. Her barns served as a hospital for the wounded before the Continental Army escaped toward White Plains. Later, when the British Army was encamped at Kingsbridge (formerly Fort Washington), Mount Morris was occupied by Hessian commander General Knyphausen and for a short time by British Commander-in-Chief Sir Henry Clinton. Mary never returned to her beautiful home on the bluff.
Elizabeth Williams Rutgers Philipse
Elizabeth Williams Rutgers was already a widow at 24 when she married Frederick Philipse III. She and her husband both maintained strong Loyalist sympathies throughout the war. Frederick III was imprisoned by the rebel New York government in the summer of 1776 and paroled in New Haven, CT. He wrote to his wife, “Nothing Affects more than to be taken up in such an hostile manner without any Crime for it to my Charge and without a hearing.”6 He later wrote to Elizabeth,
“[I] am in Good health and spirits Considering all things and Should be more So was I Assured that that our Separation did not Affect you So much as I am Confident it must do tho you Pretend to Say to the Contrary but I intreat you not to be dejected on my Acct. As I am Conscious that I have done nothing (upon the Strictest Examination) Inimical to the Liberty’s of My Country or ever would let the Consequences be what it will nothing affects more then to be taken up in such an hostile manner without any Crime brought to my Charge and without a hearing If this be the Liberty we are Contending for – but I shall have done And Shall Say no more on that Subject.”7
Conscious of the distress his absence must have caused, both as husband and father and also as legal guardian, Philipse tried to convince Elizabeth that he was all right, despite what he considered unjust imprisonment.
Philipse remained imprisoned until December of 1776. In the meantime, thanks to its proximity to the Albany Post Road and its convenient ships landing, Philipse Manor Hall saw numerous troop movements and Elizabeth was forced to entertain both Patriot and British officers.
On October 1st, 1776, while headquartered briefly on Valentine’s Hill –a freehold farm a short distance from Philipse Manor Hall – General George Washington replied to a letter Elizabeth Philipse had sent to him complaining of her cattle being stolen. He wrote,
“The Misfortunes of War, and the unhappy circumstances frequently attendant thereon to Individuals, are more to be lamented than avoided; but it is the duty of every one, to alleviate these as much as possible. Far be it from me then, to add to the distresses of a Lady, who, I am but too sensible, must already have suffered much uneasiness, if not inconvenience, on account of Colonel Philips’s absence.”8
Here, Washington acknowledged the precarious situation of Elizabeth Philipse without the protection of her husband, but he also did not excuse stolen cattle. He went on to claim he gave no order to take her livestock, but that foraging parties were an expected part of war.9 In short, no payment or returns would be forthcoming.
Lieutenant Stephen Kemble, British army officer, kept a journal for the duration of his service in the American Revolution. In it, he mentions the Philipse women alongside notations of the violence in the area.
On November 2, 1776, on traveling from Kingsbridge north, Kemble noted “The Country all this time unmercifully Pillaged by our Troops, Hessians in particular, no wonder if the Country People refuse to join us.”10 On November 6, 1776, traveling from Dobbs Ferry north, he noted, “The March of our Baggage marked by the Licentionness [sic] of the Troops, who committed every species of Rapine and plunder.”11 The next day,
““Thursday, Nov. 7th. All quiet. 8 or 10 of our People taken Marauding; Scandalous behavior for British Troops; and the Hessians Outrageously Licentious and Cruel to such a degree as to threaten with death all such as dare obstruct them in their depredations. Violence to Officers frequently used, and every Degree of Insolence offered. Shudder for Jersey, the Army being thought to move there Shortly; think it very probable.”12
Here, Kemble notes the violence of the Hessian and British troops against the locals, specifically calling out “rapine” and “licentionness,” as sexual violence against women. Violence protected by death threats to “all such as dare obstruct them in their depradations.” Even as an officer in the army, he clearly felt unable to do much to alleviate the bad behavior and control the troops, who many officers felt were little better than animals. The involvement of Hessians, who had a separate chain of command, complicated things.
On November 8th, he must have moved back south to Philipse Manor Hall, as he noted “Had the pleasure of Breakfasting this day with Mrs. Philips and Mrs. Morris – all well.”13 The next day, he reported that the retreating Continental Army was burning houses and fields “in order that it may not fall into our hands. Cruel Alternative, and what was not Expected from People who profess, or, Rather, would have it believed that they profess, the true principles of liberty and are friends to their Country, but, by their proceedings, are the Cruelest of Enemies.”14 Here, Kemble illustrates the ironies of war – that the Patriots would rather burn out their own neighbors than see their enemies benefit.
However, the Patriots were not the only ones looting and burning, as Kemble noted earlier. Elizabeth Philipse had already complained to General George Washington, to little avail. Now, she must complain to the British Generals as well. As Kemble notes, “Mrs. Philips and other friends of Government complain heavily of the depredations of our Troops; believe our Commander in Chief very sorry, but, in the present situation of affairs, cannot prevent it; think, from his probity, the next Campaign will be more regular, and prevent every Irregularity of this nature.”15 Once again, the Philipse women’s status as wealthy women failed to protect them from property theft and destruction. War had overturned the social conventions that previously protected them.
Susannah Philipse Robinson
Susannah was the eldest daughter of Frederick Philipse II and sister to Frederick III and Mary. She had married young – she was just 18 years old when she married Virginia militia officer Beverley Robinson, whose friendship with both George Washington and Roger Morris later helped shape his sister-in-law Mary’s romantic choices. With Susannah’s inheritance of 60,000 acres of the Highland Patent (today Putnam County – her sister Mary received a similar portion), she and Beverley built a house overlooking the Hudson River just opposite of West Point they called Beverley House. As war broke out, Beverley Robinson was reluctant to choose a side (or at least, that’s what he told the Patriots). By 1777, he had successfully evaded the local Committee of Safety, but not his cousin-in-law John Jay.
On March 4, 1777, Beverley Robinson wrote to Jay. Jay was a fervent patriot – he had been one of New York’s delegates to the Continental Congress, and in 1777 was not only a member of the New York Constitutional Convention, he was also New York state’s first chief justice. John Jay urged his cousin’s husband to side with the rebels. Robinson replied that he needed to go down to Philipse Manor to consult with his brother-in-law Frederick Philipse III. He left behind his wife and children, writing to Jay,
“And now Sir as I have wrote so freely to you, I must build, my ^some^ hopes upon our former acquaintance & friendship, as well as on your known good & humane disposition, and desire you will use your Influence, that Mrs. Robinson &the Children may be used with Humanity & tenderness, they would be glad to continue here, but if it should finally be determined that they must be removed, let me intreat that Mrs. Robinson may be allowed to take her necessary furniture & provisions for the family and to go by Water.”16
He went on to add in closing,
“I can’t say at present when or whether I shall return or not, as it is uncertain, but the Concern & Anxious Care I have for my dear family makes me write so freely to you about them, I will only further Ask the favour of you to come here to see Mrs: Robinson, she will give you a true Accot. of what Personable Estate will be left behind us, that it may be taken proper Care of.”
As a postscript, he wrote, “We both desire to be remembered to Mrs. Jay.”17
Before the Revolution, the Jays and Philipses had enjoyed a close relationship. Frederick Philipse III and his sisters shared a great-grandmother with John Jay – Frederick Philipse I’s first wife Margaret Hardenbroek. In particular, Frederick III’s daughter Maria Eliza Philipse and John Jay’s daughter Sarah Livingston Jay shared a close relationship. A letter from 1774 from Maria Eliza to Sarah survives, in which Maria Eliza sends her regrets at being unable to serve as a bridesmaid, writing that the family regards Sarah as “such a prodigious favorite.”18
But the American Revolution often turned families against each other. As Beverley Robinson made his way to Philipse Manor Hall, and later British lines in New York City, ultimately leading the Loyal American Regiment, the Black Pioneers, and becoming Sir Henry Clinton’s spymaster, news reached John Jay of his cousin’s loyalties. Knowing he could not reach Beverley Robinson directly, he instead wrote to his cousin Susannah Philipse Robinson on March 21, 1777. In the letter, he tried to scare Susannah into talking her husband around to the Patriot cause. He wrote,
“Among the various Exertions of Power dictated by self Preservation in the Course of the present War, few give me more Pain than those which involve whole Families without Distinction of age or Sex in Calamity, & among the Number of Families threatened with these Calamities, permit me to assure you Madam that I feel for none more sensibly than for yours.”
Jay continued at length to extol the dangers of siding with the British, concluding with:
“Picture to your Imagination a City besieged, yourself & Children mixt with contending Armies— Should it be evacuated, where, with whom & in what Manner are you next to fly? Can you think of living under the restless wings of an Army? Should Heaven determine that America shall be free, In what Country are you prepared to spend the Remainder of your Days & how provide for your Children?” 19
From conjuring an image of a besieged New York City (retaking New York City was at this point was still a major goal of Washington’s) to later comparing the situation of Loyalists to slaves, Jay tried his best to scare Susannah Philipse Robinson, and by extension her husband, into compliance.
No record of Susannah’s response, if there was one, exists. Her next steps are also unclear, but it is likely she joined her sister Mary and sister-in-law Elizabeth at Philipse Manor Hall soon after these letters. In April of 1777, the Dutchess County Commissioners of Sequestration sold Beverly House and its contents.20 In 1779 Susannah, like her siblings, was listed in the 1779 New York Act of Attainder, which seized Loyalist properties. She and her sister Mary were two of only three women listed, in part because of their inheritance of 60,000 acres each of the Highland Patent (now most of modern-day Putnam County). By 1780 her home, Beverley House, so conveniently situated along the Hudson River opposite of West Point, had become Patriot General Benedict Arnold’s headquarters while he was in command of West Point. Her husband Beverley Robinson was present on the ship that delivered Major John Andre to Beverly House to meet with Benedict Arnold with intent toward treason.
As Beverley Robinson headed off to join the British Army, Frederick Philipse III violated the terms of his parole. Released in December, 1776 on the promise that he do nothing to aid or hinder the Patriot cause, sometime in the spring of 1777, he reported American troop movements to the British, only to have his message intercepted. Panicked, he packed the whole household up and went by ship to New York City, leaving behind a steward and some of the people the Philipses enslaved to care for the house, ship’s landing, and important wheat mills. The tenant farmers were similarly left without their landlord, or any real protection.
Tenant Women of Philipse Manor
The Philipse tenants were more prosperous than most under the rule of manor lords in New York. This was partially due to the proximity of their farms to New York City and easy access via the Albany Post Road and the Hudson River, and partially due to Frederick III’s relatively affordable rents and lengthy terms. A number of tenant farmers could afford to enslave Africans, although rarely more than one or two people. Many tenant families were also well-established over several generations, which meant that close family ties by blood and marriage linked them. A number of widows continued to manage their husbands’ estates. The 1776 Philipse rent roll lists 10 widows – Widow Davenport, Widow Sypher, William Van Wert’s widow, Widow Tompkins, John Underhill’s widow, Dan Williams’ widow, John Vincent’s widow, John Odell’s widow, H. Post’s widow, and the widow of Abraham Valentine.21 These women all managed farms ranging from 17 to 343 acres, as far north as the Pocantico River and as far south as the border with the Van Cortlandts in the Bronx. All paid rent to Frederick Philipse III.
Widows occupied a unique strata of British colonial society. No longer beholden to father or husband, they were able to own property and run businesses, provided their husband’s will had not stipulated otherwise. But without the “protection” of an adult man, they were also vulnerable, as were women left behind by husbands who had joined the military or abandoned them. War brought with it lawlessness. With Frederick III absent and armies and vigilantes roaming all over Philipse Manor, women were vulnerable to military occupation of their homes and properties, theft, and sexual violence. Although we have few records of individual tenant women of Philipse Manor, two women stand out.
Ann Miller
Annetje (Ann) Fisher Miller and her husband Elijah rented 64 acres on the Bronx River on the border of the Town of New Castle. The Millers were patriots, and Elijah and their sons John and Elijah, Jr. joined with the militia as soon as they were called up. In 1776, Elijah died on August 21, 1776, from a leg wound he sustained in battle.[18] A few months later, during the Battle of White Plains, General George Washington chose the now widowed Ann Miller’s house as his headquarters. He stayed there until November, when he moved to Peekskill, and afterwards Ann offered her house as a hospital for the wounded. In December of 1776, she received devastating news that both of her sons had died of illness while encamped.
Ann’s house would go on to be used as headquarters by other commanding officers, including Continental Army Generals Charles Lee, Horatio Gates, and Alexander MacDougall. It still stands today as a historic site.
Sarah Bates
We know considerably less about Sarah Bates, but nonetheless her house was also used as a military headquarters. She and her husband Gilbert Bates purchased the lease of their farm and house sometime after 1771. Gilbert was reportedly a Loyalist who was run out of town on horseback sometime before 1781. Whether or not he left voluntarily is unclear, but his signature does end up on a 1781 letter of recommendation for a Loyalist refugee named Isaac Yurex, addressed to Colonel Phillips (likely Frederick Philipse III) asking him to intercede to his brother-in-law Colonel Roger Morris, now Commissioner of Refugees, to grant rations to Yurex and his family.[19] Gilbert’s death date is also unclear22 but it is clear that by 1781 Sarah was referred to as a widow.
Whether or not she was a Loyalist like her husband, and whether or not she really was a widow, Sarah’s home was used as headquarters for George Washington and French General Rochambeau. Rochambeau occupied the house from July 6, 1781, to August 28, 1781.23 Today, Sarah's house is known as the Odell House/Rochambeau Headquarters museum.
Enslaved women had even fewer protections than their White counterparts. Frequently the target of sexual advances even before the war, the presence of hundreds and thousands of men at war increased the threat of sexual violence and rape.
The Philipses enslaved about 50 people at the time of the American Revolution, divided between work on the Lower Mills property at Philipse Manor Hall and their properties in New York City and the Highland Patent. Enslaved men worked in the grist mill, saw mill, cooperage, stables, and on the Philipse ships as well as the home farm. Enslaved women worked primarily in the households, but some women had previously operated a commercial dairy at the Upper Mills on the Pocantico River in what is today Sleepy Hollow. It is unclear if people enslaved by the Philipses were included in William Pugsley’s lease for the Upper Mills in the years leading up to the American Revolution, but several enslaved people did work for Pugsley during that time.
What is clear is that a number of enslaved people were left behind at Philipse Manor Hall under the supervision of a steward or overseer, likely a Loyalist named Isaac Williams.24 Whether or not enslaved women were left behind or not is unclear. Likely most accompanied the Philipse family south on ships to New York City in 1777.
Many enslaved people used the chaos of war to escape. On the neighboring Van Cortlandt Manor, in April of 1777, Cornelia Van Cortlandt Beekman discovered a “plot” of women enslaved by the Van Cortlandts and Beekmans to escape under the cover of British troop movements. Jin, Brigit, Margery, Libe, Sair, and Dine were all named by Beekman in a letter to her father Pierre Van Cortlandt outlining the plan of escape. Dine revealed the plot to Beekman. In exchange, Beekman and her brother Phill “promist’d her that She Shall not be hurt for bringing the plot out of their wick’d intentions.”25 It is unknown what ultimately happened to Jin, Brigit, Margery, Libe, and Sair, but unlike them, many enslaved people, including those enslaved by Philipse tenants, were able to escape bondage.
In 1779, British Commander-in-Chief Sir Henry Clinton occupied Philipse Manor Hall as his summer headquarters. On June 30, 1779, he issued the Philipsburgh Proclamation, which promised unconditional freedom to all people (including women) enslaved by Patriots who escaped to British lines. With the early 1775 Lord Dunmore’s Proclamation, this made the British Army a relative safe haven for those wishing to escape slavery.
The Americans offered some measure of freedom to enslaved men willing to fight for the Patriot cause, but women were never offered the same. However, many women enslaved by both Patriot and Loyalist households used the chaos of war to escape, including some who joined the Continental Army as camp followers.26 On May 1, 1779, a loyalist subscriber placed an ad in the Royal Gazette for a “Negro wench named Hager, about 18 years of age,” who he suspected of running away to join the privateer fleet.27 The Philipsburg Proclamation and the policy of the British Army to look the other way regarding self-emancipated slaves “infuriated New York’s leading loyalists,” who worried about their own slaves escaping as well as the burden on the British Army supporting freed people.28 Ads for runaway slaves appeared frequently in Loyalist papers, without much evidence that they were being recovered by their enslavers.29
Despite the Philipsburgh Proclamation offering freedom to every person enslaved by a rebel, a number of British officers tried to get fighting-age enslaved men to abandon their families. Lieutenant Colonel John Simcoe, of the Queen’s Rangers, demanded that enslaved men taking up arms in exchange for freedom would be admitted “provided they come without their wives & children who cannot be received or protected at present.”30 Other people were captured and re-sold by British soldiers and Loyalists for profit. Despite the precarity of existence in New York, for many it was preferable to enslavement.
Unlike the Philipses, most Westchester residents were not wealthy enough to have multiple residences to flee to. Many Loyalist found themselves surrounded by hostile Patriots, and people on both sides of the conflict were routinely burned out of their homes. For lower class Loyalist families, especially those whose husbands were away at war, abandoning their homes and heading for the dubious refuge of New York City was often their only option.
A trickle of White Loyalist refugees and Black Loyalists began to make their way into the city as soon as the British occupation held firm in late 1776. The trickle turned into a flood by 1779, as more and more women, elderly people, and children of all races poured into the city from all over New York State and the Northeast.
Colonel Roger Morris, husband of Mary Philipse Morris, had returned to New York in 1777 or ’78 to rejoin his wife. On half pay and officially retired, he had no interest in rejoining the British Army – in 1778 he instead asked for a more civilian role. He was awarded the job of Commissioner of Refugees, as Sir Henry Clinton wanted an organized way to process civilian requests for military aid. He laid out a set of rules for Morris, who took office in January 1779. Morris was to organize refugee claims essentially by class. The “lower sort” were to get little or no aid, and able-bodied persons were required to seek work. Troublemakers could be arbitrarily cut off. And by Sir Henry’s orders, only the most “zealous Friends” to the British Crown were to be admitted. Morris had sole discretion over who would get aid.31
Many of the applicants were women – widows and women left alone by their husbands were pushed off of their farms or out of their houses by Patriot neighbors, women whose farms had been burned by the enemy or vigilantes, women with small children who could not afford to feed them, elderly women with no family, etc. Many of them lived in dire straights in a town that had been partially burned in 1776 and never really rebuilt.
Refugees applying for rations and/or financial aid often had to provide letters of reference. It is very likely that Morris acted more favorably upon letters from people he knew. Indeed, one application from May 22, 1779, for a Mrs. Robert Land, whose messenger husband was captured, came with a recommendation from Morris’s brother-in-law Colonel Beverley Robinson. According to the National Archives (UK), the application was signed by John Andre, aide-de-camp, who “states that Colonel Morris will be pleased to issue provisions to Mrs. Land[and her children].”32
Other claimants were not so lucky. Even when claims were accepted, Morris and his aides-de-camp routinely audited the refugee rolls – looking for widows who had remarried, women whose husbands had returned, and people who had found employment – in order to purge them from the lists of people collecting rations, firewood, and/or funds. By January 1782, the complaints against him had reached a fever pitch and “over 300 refugees signed a petition against Morris, accusing him of being ignorant, cruel, inhumanly austere, and ‘extremely obnoxious.’”33 But Sir Henry was adamant that Morris was simply following his rules.34
After the surrender of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown, Virginia in October 1781, life in New York and most of the colonies got a lot quieter. The major battles were largely over, and an uneasy ceasefire took hold for much of 1782-83. The Continental Army stayed north of West Point in New Windsor, with Washington at Newburgh. Sir Henry Clinton sailed for England in relative disgrace, and was replaced by Sir Guy Carleton, who took over as Commander-in-Chief of the British Army in the Americas. The fighting moved elsewhere in the world, including the Caribbean and as far east as India. By 1783, the peace treaty process was underway.
Devastated by the British surrender, Loyalist families began streaming into the port cities, especially New York City, and started evacuating to other parts of the British Empire. In New York City, many thousands of people, including Black Loyalists, were evacuated to Nova Scotia and other parts of Canada. Public sales took place on the streets of New York City as Loyalists tried to come up with funds to depart.
Few records exist of how the Philipses navigated the evacuation, but they likely stayed in New York City until the bitter end. Unlike many of their poorer Loyalist counterparts, the Philipses had ample funds to stay in the City. As late as 1779, Loyalist Philipse tenants were traveling to New York City to pay their annual rents to their landlord.36 They also had more to lose, as 1779 was also the year their lands were attainted by the “rebel” New York government. Alas for the Philipses, the British surrender meant an end to their hopes of recovering their lands and regaining their places at the top of the social pile.
For others, the future was a little brighter. A number of formerly enslaved people evacuated New York City with the British, including hundreds of women. Sir Guy Carleton, unwilling to renege on the British Army’s promise of freedom to the thousands of Black Loyalists who joined them, but cognizant of the requirements of the Treaty of Paris, instructed Major General Samuel Birch to set up a commission to examine the claims of freedom of Black Loyalists. The Birch Commission recorded departures of the formerly enslaved in The Book of Negroes, which chronicled the name, age, original enslaver, date of freedom, location, and departure date, ship, and destination of thousands of people of African descent. Included in the Book of Negroes were a number of people who listed Philipse Manor as their place of origin.
Lydia Tompkins, who was abandoned by Elnathan Hunt in 1776 (perhaps he fled in the wake of the Battle of White Plains), left July 8, 1783, on board the Grace, bound for St. John River, Nova Scotia.37 Hunt was a Philipse tenant who rented 157 acres on the Bronx River near present-day Scarsdale. His property included a “racing ground” and a tavern.38
A woman listed only as Sarah asserted she was “born free,” but formerly owned by Isaac Vermille (also spelled Vermiljie, Vermilya, Vermilyea) of Philipse Manor. Vermille was a Philipse tenant who rented 510 acres in the north of present-day Yonkers. Sarah left New York City on July 13, 1783, on board the Little Dale, also bound for St. John River, Nova Scotia.39
In 1777, at the age of 18, Eleanor Fleming escaped William Puglsey, who rented the Upper Mills from Frederick Philipse III and who likely sided with the Patriots. She left New York City on July 31, 1783, just 24 years old, on board the Clinton, bound for Anapolis/St. John, Nova Scotia.41
Jane Marshal escaped Ethan Hunt (perhaps the same person or family as Elnathan Hunt?) in 1776. Age 23, she may have been married to Frank Marshall, age 33,who escaped Abraham Odell in 1777 (who rented 324 acres from the Philipses on the Saw Mill River just north of Philipse Manor Hall). They both left New York City on the same date and ship as Eleanor Fleming.42 All enslaved by people living on the Philipse Manor, perhaps those connections helped bring them together in New York City.
In all, The Book of Negroes contains over 3,000 entries. Almost all of the Black Loyalists ended up in Nova Scotia, where freedom was tempered with hardship and prejudice. About a third of the Black Loyalists in Nova Scotia petitioned the British Crown for passage to Sierra Leone, a colony that had been created by the British government some decades earlier in an effort to remove Black Londoners from the British Isles. Alas, conditions in Sierra Leone were no better.43 But the descendants of Black Loyalists exist today throughout the former British colonies.
Many White Loyalist families also fled to Canada, including some who brought the people they enslaved with them. The importation of enslaved people into Upper Canada (today Ontario) by White Loyalists would spur former British officer John Graves Simcoe, who was by then the Lieutenant Governor of Upper Canada, to champion the abolition of slavery, resulting in the Act to Limit Slavery in 1793 – the first in the British colonies.
On Philipse Manor, the Philipses’ confiscated lands were offered up for sale, and Patriot tenant farmers were given first refusal on purchasing their own farms. Most chose to do so, although many former tenant farmers also moved west into the seized territories of Indigenous groups. The Haudenosaunee, Delaware Lenape, and Shawnee communities who had sided with the British had been forced to give up huge swaths of their original lands in punishment (today Western New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio). The tenant farmers who remained in Westchester were given the opportunity to purchase their farms on generous terms from the new New York State government.
Some of the Philipse tenant widows did not purchase their farms – either because they were unable to afford them or because they were Loyalists who had left the area. Sarah Bates was one – her tenant farm was purchased by John Odell, and Sarah Bates’ house still stands as the Odell House Rochambeau Headquarters. What happened to her after the Revolution is not clear, but Odell purportedly paid her for the farmhouse included on the farm. Because the tenants had improved the land with their own structures, former tenants who did not purchase their farms were often recompensed separately from the state.
Widow Tompkins’ farm was purchased by Abraham Odell. John Underhill’s widow, whose husband had died before the war and had managed over 600 acres on two lots, was gone by 1785. Some of the Underhill family were Loyalists; she may have been among them. One 506-acre lot was purchased by Cornelius Ray. The other 173-acre lot was sold to another woman – Patience Bonnet.
Many widows had their farms purchased by their sons. Some women who had not been widowed in 1776 purchased their farms as widows in the aftermath of the war, including Ann Miller, Ann Couvenhoven, Mary William, MariaAllaire/Alare/Ellair, and Abigail Sherwood. Ann Miller’s house also still stands – today a historic house operated by Westchester County Parks.
A great many women purchased their own farms outright, including Widow Davenport, Widow Sypher/Eva Syfer, Rachel Van Wert, Mary Vincent, Margery Rich, and Mary Merrill. Still other single women purchased land formerly occupied by unrelated men before the war, including Mary Hunt, who also operated a tavern on the Pocantico River, and Susannah Downing, who purchased two parcels. Mary Hunt’s parcel had formerly been tenanted by Gabriel Purdy, a Loyalist who was friends with the Bates family. Susannah Downing’s parcel was formerly occupied by Nathaniel Underhill, also a Loyalist who left in 1783 for Ontario.44
Most of the towns and cities in Westchester County, including Yonkers, were created out of tenant farmer lands in the 19th century.
As for un-widowed women, the legal practice of couverture continued in the new United States. Without legal standing, married and unmarried women rarely showed up in the official record. Slavery also continued in most of the colonies, including New York. We know that the enslaved miller of the Lower Mills was included in the advertisement for auction of Philipse Manor Hall and the surrounding property, which was purchased by speculator Cornelius Low in 1785. What happened to the enslaved people left behind is uncertain. As is what happened to the enslaved people the Philipses brought with them to New York City. Were they sold? Did they accompany their enslavers across the ocean?
The Philipses – Frederick III and Elizabeth, Mary and Roger, and Susannah and Beverley all emigrated with their families to England, where they were eventually compensated by the British Crown for their loyalty and the loss of their lands. The Philipse men all died relatively young. But Susannah Philipse Robinson and Mary Philipse Morris both lived into their 90s.
The American Revolution promised freedom to all, but in practice awarded it only to a few. Despite Abigail Adams’ request in 1776 that her husband and his colleagues “remember the ladies” as they developed a new form of government, the new United States awarded suffrage only to landowning White men (although landowning Black men were able to vote in the first few decades before laws were changed to exclude them). In 1799, the New York Legislature reluctantly passed an act of gradual manumission, which only applied to children born to enslaved women after July 4, 1799. After 25 (for women) or 28 (for men) years of “indentured servitude” they would be freed. Anyone older was to remain enslaved. Among them was Isabella Baumfree, born in Ulster County, NY c. 1797. She later took the name Sojourner Truth. Ultimately New York ended legal slavery in 1827, although those “indentured” under the 1799 law remained so until as late as the 1840s.
The rhetoric of the Revolution echoed long after the war was over. Assertions of unalienable rights and promises of liberty inspired generations of women’s rights activists, including Black women in the 1830s, and White women like Elizabeth Cady Stanton in Seneca Falls, NY, who helped orchestrate the 1848 Seneca Falls Convention, which helped kickstart the national conversation about women’s rights.
However, White women would not gain the right to vote until 1920, Indigenous women in 1924, and Black women until the 1965 Voting Rights Act. And it would take American women nearly 300 years, until the Equal Credit Act of 1974, to regain all of the rights that Margaret Hardenbroek, the Philipse matriarch, had enjoyed until 1664.
[1] Kerber, Linda K. Women of the Republic: Intellect and Ideology in Revolutionary America. University of North Carolina Press (1980).
[2] Revolutionary War Pension and Bounty Land Warrant Application File W. 4558, for Aaron Osborn, New York, and Sarah Benjamin or Osborn, former widow. National Archives.
[3] The nickname "Molly Pitcher" is generally attributed to Mary Ludwig Hays, who similarly took over for her artillerist husband at the Battle of Monmouth, NJ in 1778, but has also been attributed to Margaret Corbin, who was also called "Captain Molly." Some historians, however, posit that the name "Molly Pitcher" was attributed to many women who assisted on battlefields by bringing water or supplies to troops.
[4] Rees, John U. "'Lately apprehended in the first Maryland regiment, . . .' African American Women in the Army," from 'They Were Good Soldiers': African Americans Serving in the Continental Army, 1775-1783. Helion & Company (2019).
[5] National Register of Historic Places Inventory, Morris-Jumel Mansion
[6] Crary, Catherine S. The Price of Loyalty: Tory Writings From the Revolutionary Era (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1973), 144.
[7] Frederick Philipse III to Elizabeth Philipse, August 22, 1776. As quoted in "Frederick Philipse III of Westchester County: A Reluctant Loyalist" by Jacob Judd, p. 43, from The Loyalist Americans: A Focus on Greater New York by Robert A. East and Jacob Judd, eds. Tarrytown, NY: Sleepy Hollow Restoration (1975).
[8] George Washington to Elizabeth Williams Philipse, October 22, 1776. National Archives.
[9] George Washington to Elizabeth Williams Philipse, October 22, 1776. National Archives.
[10] Journals of Lieut. Col. Stephen Kemble, 1773-1789; and British Army orders: Gen. Sir William Howe, 1775-1778; Gen. Sir Henry Clinton, 1778; and Gen. Daniel Jones, 1778. Boston: Gregg Press (1972), 96.
[11] Kemble, p. 97-98.
[12] Kemble, p. 98.
[13] Kemble, p. 98.
[14] Kemble, p. 98.
[15] Kemble, p. 98.
[16] Beverly Robinson to John Jay, March 4, 1777. National Archives.
[17] Beverly Robinson to John Jay, March 4, 1777. National Archives.
[18] Maria Eliza Philipse to Sarah Livingston Jay, July 1, 1774. National Archives.
[19] John Jay to Susanna Philipse Robinson, March 21, 1777. National Archives.
[20] Flick, Alexander Clarence. Loyalism in New York During the Revolution. Columbia University Press (1901), p. 141.
[21] Research notes of Peter Bourquin on Philipse tenant farm sales after the American Revolution, 2006. Philipse Manor Hall State Historic Site collections.
[22] Geoge Washington General Orders, October 23, 1776. National Archives.
[23] Isaac Yurex Biography, compiled by Patrick Hartnett; John Stout, Gabriel Purdy, and Gilbert Bates to Colonel Phillips, January 10, 1781. UK National Archives.
[24] Sources conflict if he was killed in 1781 or if he survived past 1783. "Archaeological Investigation for Cultural Landscape Analysis and Planning: Odell House Rochambeau Headquarters," prepared by Hartgen Archaeological Associates, Inc. (September, 2022) page 3.
[25] Selig, Robert A. "The Franco-American Encampment in the Town of Greenburgh, 6 July-18 August, 1781: A Historical Overview and Resource Inventory," Hudson River Valley National Heritage Area (2020).
[26] Frederick Philipse III mentions an Isaac Williams and “Mr. Williams the overseer” in one of his letters to Elizabeth from prison. Hessian officer Johann Ewald later mentions a steward present at Philipse Manor Hall in 1779 in his journals.
[27] Cornelia Beekman to Pierre Van Cortlandt, April 12, 1777. As quoted in Correspondence of the Van Cortlandt family of Cortlandt Manor, 1748-1800 compiled and edited by Jacob Judd. Tarrytown, NY: Sleepy Hollow Restorations (1977), 184-186.
[28] Rees, John U. "'Lately apprehended in the first Maryland regiment, . . .' African American Women in the Army," from 'They Were Good Soldiers': African Americans Serving in the Continental Army, 1775-1783. Helion & Company (2019).
[29] Chopra, Ruma. Unnatural Rebellion: Loyalists in New York City During the Revolution. University of Virginia Press (2011), 129.
[30] Chopra, Unnatural Rebellion, 143.
[31] Chopra, Unnatural Rebellion, 144.
[32] Quoted in Chopra, Unnatural Rebellion, 146.
[33] Braisted, Todd. "In Reduced Circumstance: Loyalist Women and British Government Assistance, 1779-1783," from Women Waging War in the American Revolution, edited by Holly A. Mayer. University of Virginia Press (2022), 214-215.
[34] Colonel Beverly Robinson to Colonel Roger Morris, New York, May 22, 1779. UK National Archives.
[35] Braisted, 215.
[36] Braisted, 214-215.
[37] Kim, Sung Bok. Landlord and Tenant in Colonial New York: Manorial Society, 1664-1775. University of North Carolina Press (1978), p. 213.
[38] The Book of Negroes, from Guy Carleton, 1st Baron Dorchester: Papers, The National Archives, Kew.
[39] The Book of Negroes; Bourquin notes.
[40] The Book of Negroes; Bourquin notes.
[42] The Book of Negroes; Bourquin notes.
[43] Schama, Simon. Rough Crossings: Britain, the Slaves and the American Revolution. Harper Collins (2007).
[44] Bourquin notes; Nathaniel Underhill Revolutionary War Claims for Losses.
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Le Blanc, Ondine E. and Katharine Farnham Hay. "The Journal of the 'Rebel Lady': Katharine Farnham Hay's Account of Her Trip to New York City, 1778," Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, 1997, Third Series, Vol. 109 (1997), 102-122.
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