Further Reading

The Devil's Dance Chambers

The Arrival of the First Jews to New York City

History of Marlboro

How Jews Treated Their Slaves

Shoes in Buildings (pdf)

Concealed Shoes (pdf)

“As A Matter of ‘arti’-Fact!” Newsletter

An “occasional” publication. At Gomez Mill House we want to share the rich heritage and traditions that our owner/occupants have contributed to the Hudson Valley and to America. One way to do this is through passing on their art, their books and their written thoughts:

Volume 1, Issue 1 (pdf)

Volume 1, Issue 2 (pdf)

Volume 1, Issue 3 (pdf)

Pictures

Bronstrup Press

Gomez Mill House circa 1913

Trading Poster

Rags

The Arrival of the First Jews to New York City

The first Jews to arrive in New Amsterdam were refugees — twenty three men, women and children who came ashore with tears, prayers and gratitude the first week of September, 1654. They had survived a series of adventures which must have seemed to them a modern repetition of the Exodus, and although Manhattan Island was plainly not the Promised Land, it was solid land; walking on it was itself a miracle after thousands of miles of terror filled sea wandering from south of the Equator. Even the crude boisterousness of the city's waterfront could not have disturbed the Jews’ awe at their salvation.

None of this group had come to New Amsterdam by choice. Their voyage had started some nine months earlier, when Portuguese troops, under the command of Francisco Berreto, forced the surrender of Pernambuco, the capital of Dutch Brazil. The confusion and fear among the Dutchmen, and especially among the city’s six hundred Dutch Jews, who were mostly of Portuguese ancestry and had strong memories of the Inquisition, was partially allayed by Berreto. He offered the defeated colonists their choice of remaining, if they pledged allegiance to Portugal, or taking up to three months to settle their affairs if they chose to leave. Despite the tremendous losses they would have to take by hasty sales or outright abandonment of property, most of the Dutch — Christians and Jews alike decided to return to the Netherlands. Berreto provided ships enough for the emigration, and a total of sixteen Dutch and Portuguese ships were used. Fifteen made it without apparent difficulty; the sixteenth had no luck. In South Atlantic waters, before it was properly on its way to Europe, it was overtaken and captured by a Spanish pirate ship.

Heat filled days passed as the pirates slowly hauled their prize toward a friendly Caribbean port. The daily prayers of the adult males on board must have held the only thread of hope for the Jews. For the Christians there was the comfort provided by the psalms and Bible readings of the Reverend Johannes Polhemius, for whom this trip meant the end of eighteen years of service to the Dutch Reformed Church in Brazil. As far as the passengers were concerned, the response to their prayers was the vision of five guns mounted on the frigate St. Charles, a French privateer, alert for whatever prize or profit the New World held. The Spanish pirates were no match for it, and the Dutch prisoners were at last in friendly hands, at a price. Jacques de la Motthe, master of the St. Charles, was, in privateers man tradition, a man who took his risks where he found them. Although the miserable band of Dutchmen had little more than the clothes they wore to show for security, he contracted to bring them to New Amsterdam; the charge for the Jews was twenty five hundred guilders, not excessive for the lengthy voyage. Of this, they had less than nine hundred guilders in cash. To make sure he would collect tile rest, de la Motthe made the Jewish passengers responsible in solidum, the debt a total responsibility of all members of the group.

The last days of the summer of 1654, as the St. Charles sailed into the bay, were happy ones on Manhattan. The English threat to the colony had subsided, and there was a feeling of well being throughout the city. “The increase of cattle and people, but mostly of children and pigs, proceeds merrily,” a newcomer to Manhattan wrote back to Amsterdam. To the Jews who first saw the city then, Manhattan’s mood was a reflection of their own. Within a few days would come the Holy Days — Rosh Hashanah, the beginning of their New Year, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. But the new beginning would have to wait the settlement of business affairs; de la Motthe wanted to be: paid for passage and board.

Almost immediately after reporting his cargo and passengers, the French captain brought suit for payment of 1567 guilders, the balance owed him by his Jewish passengers. There was no debate; the contract was fair. The Jews could only plead for time to write friends in Amsterdam. But neither tile court nor de la Motthe had the patience for that. The scraps of furniture and other property owned by the Jews were ordered held as security. If the money was not forthcoming within four days the goods were to be auctioned, starting with the property owned by Abraham Israel and Judicq de Mereda, because they owed the most. If this did not bring in enough, de la Motthe was authorized to go down the list of the Jews’ goods until enough money was received to pay the total bill. The heart broken Jews watched their effects being bundled off daily by strangers — and Gentiles — in a strange city. And when the auctioning was over, and the last of the goods had gone, there was not even the satisfaction of being debt free; there was still a balance of 495 guilders due de la Motthe. The master of the St. Charles went to court again and the Burgomasters and Schepens concurred in his request that David Israel and Moses Ambroisius be held under civil arrest for the balance. But late in October, the sailors of the St. Charles, who of course were the last in line to receive their portion of the debt, said they would await receipt of money from Amsterdam. And so the affair ended.

But before it did, the campaign started to rid the colony of the Jews. For Stuyvesant, Megapolensis and Drisius, religious freedom for the Jews went far beyond the liberty of conscience allowed Christians. In their eyes, Jews were untrustworthy and anti Christ. Stuyvesant’s first report to the Amsterdam Chamber, within three weeks of the Jews’ arrival, set the tone for the harassment which followed. “The Jews … would nearly all like to remain here,” he wrote.“ But learning that they (with their customary usury and deceitful trading with the Christians) were very repugnant to the inferior magistrates, as also to the people having the most affection for you; the Deaconry also fearing that owing to their present indigence they might become a charge in the coming winter, we have for the benefit of this weak and newly developing place and the land in general, deemed it useful to require them in a friendly way to depart; praying also most seriously in this connection, for ourselves as also for the general community of your Worships, that the deceitful race — such hateful enemies and blasphemers of the name of Christ — be not allowed further to infect and trouble this new colony, to the detraction of your Worships and the dissatisfaction of your Worships’ most affectionate subjects.”

Despite the open antagonism, the Jews stayed. From their rented quarters — they could not own property, even if they had the money to buy it — they wrote to friends in The Netherlands, for money, for help, for influence with the Chamber. The response was quick, and gratifying, indicating strength among Jewish stockholders in the West India Company which not even the Classis of Amsterdam, prodded by Megapolensis and Drisius and its own antipathy to the Jews, could overcome. Spokesmen for the New Amsterdam Jews cited French policy which permitted Jews to trade and live in Martinique and British policy which allowed Jews to settle in Barbados. They recalled the Jewish record in support of the Dutch in Brazil, where they “have at all times been faithful and have striven to guard and maintain that place, risking for that purpose their possessions and their blood.” And they played on the Amsterdam Chamber’s recurring concern about the scanty population in America compared to the growing English colonies. “Yonder land is extensive and spacious,” the Amsterdam Jews pointed out. “The more of loyal people that go to live there, the better it is … ”

The Amsterdam Chamber could make no other choice. Reluctantly, it told Stuyvesant, “for we would have liked to fulfill your wishes,” it granted permission to the Jews “to travel and trade to and in New Netherlands and live and remain there, provided the poor among them shall not become a burden to the company or the community, but be supported by their own nation.” The members of the Chamber did not see how they could decide otherwise, especially because of “the considerable loss sustained by this nation, with others, in the taking of Brazil, as also because of the large amount of capital which they still have invested in the shares of this company.”

Even before the Chamber established its policy, but undoubtedly in anticipation of it, more Jews migrated to New Amsterdam early in 1655. But the increased numbers also brought increased antipathy. Stuyvesant tried in nearly every letter to get the Chamber to reverse its decision. Megapolensis wrote frantic notes to the Classis, foreseeing a dire future and begging help to bring about the expulsion of the Jews. “[The Jews] report that many more of the same lot would follow, and then they would build here a synagogue,” he wrote. “This causes among the congregation here a great deal of complaint and murmuring. These people have no other God than the Mammon of unrighteousness, and no other aim than to get possession of Christian property, and to overcome all other merchants by drawing all trade toward themselves. Therefore we request your Reverences to obtain from the Messrs. Directors that these godless rascals, who are of no benefit to the country, but look at everything for their own profit, may be sent away from here. For as we have here Papists, Mennonites and Lutherans among the Dutch; also many Puritans or Independents, and many atheists and various other servants of Baal among the English under this Government, who conceal themselves under the name of Christians; it would create a still greater confusion, if the obstinate and immovable Jews came to settle here.”

Despite the intensity of the opposition, the Jews began to win minor victories. About the time Megapolensis was polishing his Latin phrases to the Classis, warning of Armageddon on Manhattan, Abraham de Lucena was charged with selling goods during the Sunday sermon. Van Tienhoven, as prosecuting attorney, asked the court to fine him six hundred guilders (a much higher fine than usual for this offense) and to revoke his permit to trade. No judgment was made on the case the day it came up, and it does not reappear on the court records. It is likely that de Lucena was one of the new arrivals, and upon explaining ignorance of the law was permitted to go free with a warning. The conflicting Sabbaths of Christians and Jews caused further friction, but within three years the Burgomasters and Schepens were to go on record as recognizing the meaning of Saturday to the Jews. When Jacob Barsimson failed to appear in court in two suits brought against him, the court ruled that “no default is entered against him as he was summoned on his Sabbath.”

But each victory came after struggle, sometimes obvious obstruction, sometimes merely delay by evasion. During July of their first summer in New Amsterdam, while the city court was in recess during the intense heat of the dog days, de Lucena, Salvador d’Andrada and Jacob Cohen, as spokesmen for the entire Jewish community, petitioned Stuyvesant for permission to purchase land to be used as a cemetery; their religion forbade them to use the Christian burial ground on the west side of Broadway, a few yards north of the fort. The timing of the request was unfortunate; they found Stuyvesant in an irritable mood. He had just returned from his frustrating voyage to the West Indies and was involved in preparations for the invasion of New Sweden. The Jews were given short shrift; since there had been no deaths there was obviously no immediate need of a cemetery. But a grant of land was promised when “the need and occasion therefor” arose. Six months later the Jews apparently showed need, and they were granted a spot outside the city limits; there, near what is now Chatham Square in modern New York’s Chinatown, they established their first burial place.

Occupants of Mill House

Gomez

Luis Gomez, a Sephardic Jew, a merchant and trader, was the first owner of Gomez Mill House, which he built in Marlboro as a trading post for the new colonists. Other pioneers, fleeing tyranny, and the cruelties in Europe for the promise of a new life, then settled in the Hudson Valley.

Acker

Wolfert Acker bought Mill House In 1772 and added the elegant second storey, which was made from bricks baked in kilns on the property. He was a member of the Ulster County Militia and fought during the American Revolution to win freedom for the colonists.

Armstrong

When Harry Armstrong came to Mill House in 1862 on his honeymoon he brought his southern bride Maddie and stayed for the next 60 years. A gentleman farmer, he added a new kitchen wing, and planted orchards of fruit trees and berries to the property.

Hunter

Dard Hunter, legendary artisan and craftsman bought Mill House in 1909. During his 7-year residence, Hunter began his lifelong career in hand papermaking and printing. He built a mill in the style of a Devonshire cottage. There he experimented with hand milled paper and produced his early signature work.

Gruening

America entered the war in 1914, and the Hunter’s first son, Dard Jr., was born a month later. Thinking he was going into the service, Hunter sold Mill house in 1919. Hunter wrote in his autobiography that the house was sold to a representative of the Russian government and used as a school for children of all races. He really sold to Ms. Martha Gruening who tried to establish a Libertarian School at Mill House.

Starin

In 1947 the Starin family purchased Mill House with a GI loan. They raised 4 children here and were instrumental in preserving its heritage and tradition. After much research and many years of persistence Mildred Starin successfully placed the Gomez Mill House on the Historic Register in January 1973.