This letter is an account of Revolutionary War activities at Battery Park, New York City in the summer of 1775, written to Kingston resident and Revolutionary War hero, Charles DeWitt from Daniel Graham.

Kingston August 27 1775

Sir

Rec’d your of yesterday date & observe the contents– Mr. Will’m Eltinges son John is come home from N York which place he left Thursday at 5 in the evening, by whom we have an exact account of what happened between the King ship in that harbour and the citiseans there– the Congress (it seems) had agreed that the cannon on the Batery should be Removed which they agreed to do with the greatest secrecy, but such is the unhappy Situation of the City that there is nothing can be keep a secret even in the Congress itself– however on Wednesday at 10 or 11 o’clock at night the people went in order to move the cannon, but soon was discovered and fired on by the Asias Barge, which was Imediately Returned by our people briskly– soon after the Man of War began to play upon them, one man in the barge is killed, 3 of our people wounded but likely to do well, after a considerable Fiering upon the City and Batery and doing a good deal of damage to Sundry Houses the Fiering cesed till morning when the Cap’t of the Asia sent a letter ashore to the Major of the City to know whether it was sense of the Congress that the cannon should be removed or only a party of men with out the direction of the Congress, but Rec’d no answer– He sent a second letter and had no answer- he sent a 3d and Declared if he was not answered he would on Friday Morning set Fier to the City– we have no account since that Time– Cap Jn’o Elmendorf was to set out for home from N York yesterday by whom I expect shall have further accounts of the Matter-  Eltinge says the City was in the utmost Confusion– Women & children moving out with all speed– the people however moved the cannon from the Batery and have secured them– It is thought that the Rev. Aughmoteys son and Sheriff Roberts son aquainted the Man of War of the Removing the cannon from the Batery as those (illegible) gentlemen ar missing since that time and not to be found– as soon as any other (damaged text) to Town I will endeavour to let you know, for if no news comes then what is at present I will at all events go down this week for you– know the port will be shut on the 10 of the next month– which is all at present

From Sir your very humble Serv’t

Dan’l Graham

In this excerpt, Nathaniel begins his business career in the village of Wilbur.  

Monday Sept 27^th 1847

            I have purchased the right title – good will &c. of a small store in the village of Wilbur and am again launched on the turbulent and unsafe sea of trade – the store and the place deserve more than a passing notice – The form of the former would puzzle Euclid to describe – It has three compartments which may be classed small – smaller & smallest – irregular in shape – of different heights – and possessing more angles than a starved cow – By whom it was designed or after what order is lost in obscurity – I do not think it was after any model or Michael Angelo or Sir Christopher Wren – no it is; it must be original – The master mind that conceived the original plan could never stop to borrow any of the details – If any order has been observed in the construction it is disorder – It strikes me as singular that one so popular as this appears to be has never been added to the other in works on architecture – There is a window there – another there – and the door any where it could be put – I have said it was small – it is – in the largest apartment (to use a vulgarism) a cat could not be swung by the tail without danger to her whiskers and the walls by their proximity – On the floor is a more than Egyptian labyrinth of barrels, boxes, kegs &c. creating wonder in the mind of a visitor how he should get in – and then equal wonder how he should get out again

            The most ingenious work of all is the distribution of the shelves – on which is a multitudinous array of what Country people call “truck” – the counter cuts the store in two across – behind which, behold, me installed in all the dignity of a storekeeper – in a space so contracted that I can only more after the manner of a top – deeply immersed in the calculation of how much change is due to a scraggy looking young lady with a head like a brush fence [sic] out of sixpence; after deducting the value of a half pound of soap – so much for the store – now for the village for which art has done little a Nature a great deal – As the Scotchman said of his country “it would be very extensive were it only rolled out” – that is there is surface enough to make a large tower but by some freak of damn nature it runs up and down – to a farmer this might be considered advantageous as he can cultivate both sides of his farm at once – but for a town it is not convenient unless baloons could be made available as a mode of coveyance – A geologist would say of the place – The Twaalfskill has here cut its way through huge masses of lime stone to the Esopus creek about a mile above its junction with the Hudson – A painter would say that the scenery was wild and romantic and at this season absolutely beautiful – This is true – It is beautiful – The village lies in the break of hills on each shore of a little stream – It is built in the same order as my store viz disorder; an imaginative mind would suppose a waggon load of houses had been “dumped” from above which stuck fast where they struck and consider it miraculous that they did not fall bottom upwards –

            The business of the place is burning Lime & Cement and shipping lumber and country produce to the New York market – and my business supplying the operations and others with food for the inner and clothing for the outward man – there is no society and how Tom has continued to live four years here is a mystery like the place itself – Here therefore may I consider myself bound to resticate for the writer at least and though the prospect is not pleasant I will conform with the best grace possible and forget the ambition of the past – the hopes of the future in bread and butter necessities of the present.