Volume 17 , Issue 44

1890 - The Benson Homestead, An Old Flatbush NY Mansion

In The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Brooklyn, New York, dated 18 May 1890, Sunday, page 13, we found this mention of the Benson Homestead which was built by Nicholas Couwenhoven over a hundred years ago (1790) - The family that had occupied it for generations.

Found on Newspapers.com

On New York Bay, but a few miles distant from the lower end of Manhattan Island, where the first Dutch settlement was made far back in the early history of what is now America, between Bath Beach and Coney Island, along the wide stretch of the bay which loops in one long curve, was the land grant which for generations had been in the possession of the Benson family. For years the estate had been kept intact and passed from father to son until the encroaching tide of civilization made it no longer practicable and so from the fields of the farm and pasture it had merged into the lots and divisions of a virgin city. To the hamlet which now covers its once continuous fields had been given the name of those who had for so long been its owners and the good old Saxon name of Bensonhurst now marks the village where the old house stands.

As the changes had come in the land and surroundings, so had they left their impress upon the house itself, and if now, by some supernatural power, the spirit of one of its old inhabitants could revisit the scenes of its earthly dwelling, the search for the old homestead might, perchance, be a long one. Upon the old site, it was true, there still stands a house, but far different and greasy changed from the one here given, which is as it stood generations ago. Now, the carpenter, the painter and all the works of modern taste and culture had wrought wondrous changes.

Yet if the spirit from he past did but step inside he would, without doubt, still recognize the quaint arrangement of the hall and various pieces of the furniture and fittings, strong reminders of what once was.

Until last Fall the house stood just as shown in the illustration accompanying, but at that time the present owner made such extensive alterations that it could now hardly be recognized as the hold home of the Bensons.

Owing to the manner in which the Streets of the new town had been laid out. The front of the house, which formerly faced toward the water, has been changed, and now what was once the rear has been fitted with a large portico and is used as the main entrance, facing the Street. In fact, the old house has been literally covered over and now stood like a box within a box, completely hidden from view. A large extension had been built upon the easterly end, carrying the roof along upon the same level as the main structure. Other windows have been added, new porches built, the old ones extended and a thorough overhauling has completely changed the aspect of the place.

Within, much more of the old form is preserved, particularly in the hall where the quaint mantel tree and stairway sill remain, freshened by a coat of shining white paint. By the changing of the front from south to north, the main entrance now opened directly below the first platform landing of the stairs, which according to the one made in the old arrangements were at the rear end of the hall. Again a change had been made in the parlors, a large arch now making one room of what was formerly two. Upstairs some further alterations had been made in the arrangement of rooms, but much of the old still remains in the curious nooks and corners which abound on every hand and the gabled windows which peep from the bedrooms. The old rough floors had been superseded by inlaid ones of hard wood, and the chill and gloom which once was warmed and brightened by the large open fireplace, with its crackling logs of hickory, was now provided for by the furnace and more modern means of illumination. The house as it then stood was some 00x35 feet, two stories and an attic, but the original one was much smaller, indeed, having only three rooms upon the second floor and four upon the first.

Under the present roof of modern shingles and workmanship, was that of the old house just as it stood for ages, simply encased in a shield, so to speak, by way of protection, although to look at its sound timbers and hemlock shingles firmly rioted with wrought iron nails clinched on the under side, it looks as though it still might stand many a storm and season yet.

In tearing down the old house the boards underneath the plastering, which was without doubt put on at a very recent date, it was found that they were covered over with a sort of wall paper of still strong texture, which in turn was covered with a sort of wash or ime. Thus it was throughout the house; the lack of any interior finish was supplied in this way, which doubtless in those olden days was a thing of some moment. The beams and woodwork was mostly of ax hewn timber and by the changes of many years has become so thoroughly seasoned that it now was as hard as iron and showed not one whit the ravages of decay. During the alterations a huge squirrel's m==nest was found between the flooring, in which the little animals had year after year reared their young,a nd in order to provide for so many little months had accumulated almost a cartload of nut shells, bark and corn cobs. In another place was found a pocket beneath the floor under a closely joined trap door, where it was supposed the silver and valuables of the inhabitants were hidden when a visit of the red coated soldiers was expected.

Exactly when the house was built was a matter difficult to determine, but it was well known that it was not the oldest in the neighborhood. It was known that it was probably built by Nicholas Couwenhoven, who died in 1793 at a ripe old age. The founder of the family was Wolfert Garretsen Van Couwenhoven, who came from Amersfoort in Utrecht with the early Dutch settlers in 1630 and located with the colonies at Rensselaerawyck, near Albany. In a few years the colonists gradually began to move to the southward in the direction of New York, and gradually Wolfert shifted to Flatlands, and in 1636 was mentioned as one who joined in purchasing a tract of land along the southern shore of Long Island, supposed to be in the neighborhood of New Utrecht, and about where the present Town of Bensonhurst then stood. How soon after his acquiring the land the house was built was a matter of conjecture, but it was safe to say that for a surety the old house had seen at least very nearly two centuries of rain and shine.

Nicholas Couwenhoven, with whom authentic account begins, married Jane, daughter of George Lott, who then resided in New Utrecht. At his death he left a son John, who married Susannah Martence, of Flatbush, and died in 1806 leaving a daughter Maria, who was later married to Egbert Benson, from whose prominence and one of descendants the house has always been known.

So came the homestead down through the changing generations to its last owner, Robert Benson, who died some five years ago (1885), leaving a daughter Margaret, as one of the few left of the old family.

Among the sons of the house were many prominent in the affairs of the country, landed gentlemen who were looked up to and respected by all who knew them and upon whom the Government fixed as men of special favor and distinction. Among the most prominent, and a man who had become known to history as a mind of culture and sterling worth, was Egbert Benson, who died in 1833 at the age of 87. He was one of the earliest and most active Whigs of the Revolution, and with John Jay was one of that Committee of Safety which at the commencement of the struggle exercised for a time almost the entire powers of the State, and, like his illustrious coadjutors., he exercised those powers, large as they were, always, it was said, with a single eye to the public good, inexorable often, but never capriciously. He spared not even personal friendships where they interfered with the claims of his country. In Congress, in the Legislature, as Attorney General and finally as Judge of the Supreme Bench, to which office he was appointed by Mr. Adams and later legislated out by Mr. Jefferson - Mr. Benson was ever the same upright, zealous and pure functionary. That the young Government had the greatest confidence in the honesty and integrity of the sons of this old house was attested by another fact: Robert Benson, the eldest son of Egbert, was appointed paymaster for the State during the War of the Rebellion and such was the confidence placed by the authorities in his honesty that no bond or security was demanded for the immense quantities of money which he was constantly handling. This was doubtless a procedure which before or since had never been known, and it was to those who reverence his memory a matter of some pride.

A penchant for the law was always a ruling passion with he sons of Benson, and while they were not averse to the sterner ways of war, yet they exercised their powers in a more quiet, though probably as effective a way in the government of the affairs of the nation. Yet there was one Harry to whom the smell of powder and the clash of arms was in no wise a stranger, and for the prominent part he played in many of the conflicts with his country's foe and the daring which he ever displayed he wa always known as Fighting Harry. That such a man should meet with a death becoming a soldier was a matter upon which his colleagues were well agreed, if death must come at all, and so when he was taken prisoner and confined upon the old prison ship New Jersey and the news came that in that hole of torment he had met a loathsome death from starvation and disease there seemed no justness indeed in the fate of war. Only his memory was left to those who knew and loved him, for his body was consigned to the waves, kicked from the deck of the ship as a rat would be pushed overboard, and through the passing years his bones have been washed away in the waters of Wallabout Bay, where the prison ship stood. This same Fighting Harry was one of the brave boys who in their endeavor to prevent the British from ascending the Hudson stretched a huge chain of iron across the river in hopes of so impeding progress. Townsend Van Pelt was one of those who forged that chain, and now the descendants of both live close together near the scenes of their childhood.

There were many stories hidden away in dark corners of the old house, but the Bensons were a matter of fact sort of people, and the soft ways of love had but little to do in ruffling the smooth tenor of their ways. It was a singular fact that a house so long occupied should have had but one bride to go forth from its doors, and that but in recent years, but such is nevertheless a fact, at least as far as history goes, for the wedding of Miss Margaret, daughter of George Benson, was the only one i whose honor the old house had made gay in all these generations. Yet it had been the scene of many gala days, when men of high renown have gathered e=beneath its roof and sat around its board.

One of these occasions was upon the inauguration of George Washington as President of the United States, 100 years ago, an even which this country but a short time since so magnificently celebrated. At that time the bay at this point was a famous place for shed fishing, and during the season the shore was lined with onlookers watching the sport. So it happened that there was a great dinner given at the old homestead at which the new President was present. After the repast had been thoroughly discussed General Washington and his host walked over to the shore, where they watched the fishers gathering in their finny treasures, after which they went over to the hall where the children had gathered to see the illustrious visitor. The preparations for his reception had been well carried out, for every little boy and girl had been thoroughly instructed beforehand, and when the visitors arrived they were drawn up in line, everyone arrayed in the cleanest of collars and frocks. Like the endless number of servants the Father of his country must have had, were all such claims allowed, so are the descendants of those little boys numerous, but one in particular is said to have had special cause for pride, for during the inspection Washington placed his hands upon the head of one of the boys, Rem Van Pelt by name, and bade him be "a good, industrious youth," advice which had since been followed by the descendants of that fortunate lad. Washington was not the only man of note who visited within its walls in olden times, for it was said that Daniel Webster and Henry Clay had at various times partaken of the steaming products of its old Dutch oven. It was here also that Mary Lamb spent much of her time while engaged upon her history of New York. Within its quiet seclusion she found an inspiration born of the times long passed,and in the neighborhood she found many of the old families in whose family bibles and strings of memories she obtained many of the facts and stories which made her work so valuable as well as interesting.

In the natural course of things the many articles and pieces of furniture which once adorned the halls of the old house have been scattered by the migrations of its inhabitants and the changes in the house itself. So at present it was hardly possible to see the old home as it stood, but in the halls of the New York Historical Society there remains many of the old pieces of furniture, documents and papers which tell of the lives and doings of the people who have passed away. To the society they were doubly valuable both for their antiquity and for the fact that one of the founders of that institution was Egbert Benson, who for so many years made the house his home. Among the other articles now i the possession of fashioned clock, standing some 8 feet in height, which still ticks out the seconds of other lives with the same regularity and correctness as of old. It was impossible to accurately determine the exact age of this ancient timepiece, but it is supposed to have stood in the homestead for at least 175 years. It bears the make of Liverpool and on it shining face of brass are shown the moon's phases, and the day of the month as well as the seconds, minutes and hours. Its chimes, which strike every fifteen minutes, are now soft and strangely mellowed by the passing of generations. Originally it had the figure of an owl carrying a sheaf of wheat, carved upon its summit, but that as well as much of the other carving has succumbed to the wear and tear of time.

Many of the old wooden chairs were still retained, of a dark green hue, with the name of the owner painted i large letters across the bottom. Could these but talk, what stories they might toll of the people who had sat in them at feast and funeral; many of the latter occasions they had doubtless witnessed, for the name printed upon them showed that they were often loaned to those families whom death had afflicted, for in those days there were no undertakers to fill he house of mourning with camp stools, and the seats for the people who gathered upon such occasions were borrowed from the neighboring houses. The name upon each was for the purpose of insuring their return to the rightful owner.

Over the front door, of massive proportions - so thick and heavy that upon it was a huge iron lock, some three inches in thickness, fastened with long spikes of wrought iron - through which the guests were won't to enter, there used to hang an old greeting, upon a ground of blue, bearing the Dutch motto of "Welkom," and those who passed beneath it had no occasion, it was said, to ever doubt the principle for which it stood.

In the house there still stand two of the old mahogany tables at which the illustrious diners were worn to sit. Time and constant use have imparted tot he wood a richness and polish which mellows the grain into a dull red of blackish hue. They have from time to time needs the care of the joiner's tools, but in their present renovated condition they still bid fair to stand for many years to come. Beside the tables there were two ancient mahogany chests of drawers, which were brought from Holland and, while in outward seeming they were nearly as good as new, within the drawers show the wear of constant use and were grooved and seamed.

On the landing of the stairway there still hangs among the pictures one upon which is the name "Dominos Micarlaus Vander Borcht, 1703," and again there were two old prints in colors - one of New York, looking from Brooklyn Heights, and the other the same from Jersey. No date was present to tell when they were made, but New York was shown as a very small settlement and in the bay an English ship of war was riding at anchor, with the flag of her nation flying from he mast, and far over upon the Brooklyn shore, looking from the heights of Jersey, was seen the old windmill which was supposed to have stood at a point where Joralemon Street would then have touched the river's edge.

Three pictures of Washington were upon its walls just as they had stood for years, one being a very large one in an old wooden frame, bearing the date of 1839. Down in the cellar was the old kitchen, where the Dutch oven still stood, and in another proton was a sort of pen or cell where the refectory slave was put by way of punishment.

At the bottom of the rear steps then, which in time past was the front door entrance,there rested an old circular piece of stone. It was half hidden in the ground and worn smooth by the treading of many feet, but yet it had constantly gained in value as a relic of the past, for it was supposed to be the first millstone ever brought to this country.

So with its memories of the pst the old house had faded into the associations of the present, and yet tis memory would still live in the minds of those who cared for what once was in the long ago.
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