From Historic Houses of New Jersey by W. Jay Mills, 1902
Edited by GET NJ, COPYRIGHT 2002
ONE of the oldest dwellings in Perth Amboy is the Parker Castle, the stone wing of which is
said to have been erected over
a century before the Revolution. Eight generations of Parkers have been sheltered beneath
its venerable roof, and it is still occupied by the family, although its environment is
greatly changed. It is now surrounded by dilapidated
tenements, the site of its stables occupied by an
iron foundry, and its once beautiful gardens with
their picturesque water-front ruined by unsightly factories.
James Parker, one of the most noted members of the
family of immemorable gentility in New Jersey, and the
builder of the Castle's large wooden addition somewhere
about 1760, was a very prominent man in the Amboy
world Governor William Franklin knew. In 1771 and
for two years following he was mayor of the city, then
a position to which was attached great honor and dignity.
At the outbreak of the Revolution he was appointed one of the delegates to the Provincial Congress, which he did
not attend, unfortunately for himself, as subsequent
events in his career prove. Although his wife was a
Royalist and the daughter of a staunch Tory, – the Rev.
William Skinner, who history tells us was one of the
tribe of Macgregor and a friend of the Stuarts, – the deep
interest he had at stake led him to assume the cloak of
neutrality and to stand neither beside his king nor his
adopted country.
Early in 1775 he left the Castle, and removed with his
family back into the Jerseys, to a place near Morristown,
called Bethlehem, where he purchased or built a residence,
which he called Shipley. There his neighbors, with
sympathies red hot in the cause of freedom, suspected
him of being a Royalist, and he was led off to the little
jail at Morristown, where so many Tories languished
during different periods of the war. He was incarcerated for a period of several months, much to the sorrow
of his wife and children, who wrote him many tender
letters of consolation.
Men who did not join the army, no matter how strong
their protestations of good faith to the colonies, often
met with as bad treatment as their Tory cousins of more
pronounced views. A friend and relative of James
Parker, Ravaud Kearny, then living at his home, Mount
Wurrows, near Kearny Point, has left us several records
of his grievances in his letters. In an amusing one,
written while James Parker was still at Shipley with his
family, Kearny gives us a vivid portrayal of his injuries.
The letter was written to Major John Burrowes, of
Middletown-Point, and begins:
A certain Dragoon belonging to Maj. Lee's Corps, last Friday drove
two Bull's of mine out of my Field without giving me the least notice
or Informing me of the Reason ; being very intimate with the Major,
and his dining at my house but two days before with several of his officers, I was certain that if he intended any such thing he would have
mentioned it to me ; I told the soldier that I believed he had no such
orders from Maj. Lee and tho' two of our militia men that was with him
told me in his presence that he had no orders to drive off mine, the
answer was two or three hearty Dams and he drove them off in triumph.
. . . If it is Gen. Washington's orders to take our winter provisions
I must submit and the matter is determined.
With a few more protestations against fate and his hard
usage Kearny closes his letter. Perhaps it was trials like
these and harsher usage at the hands of the American
troops that moulded James Parker's children into such
ardent Royalists, even to the foregoing of pleasures after
the war was over, out of loyalty to their "dear king."
Elizabeth, or Betsy Parker, as she was always called in
old Perth Amboy days, has left us many interesting
pictures of early republican times in her clever and
satirical letters to friends. In one, written from New
York to her sister Janet, in Perth Amboy, at the time of
General Washington's inauguration, she says that she
could not attend the ball given to Washington owing to
respect for her other ruler; but she cautiously gives us a
glimpse of feminine curiosity when she adds that she
"went to view the new crystal sconces which were being
put up in the assembly-room that afternoon."
After living at Shipley until 1783, James Parker removed his family to New Brunswick, and sometime
afterwards, owing to the influence of friends and his
vehemently declared neutrality all through his imprisonment, he was able to secure his castle, which came near
being added to the list of confiscated great houses in
Perth Amboy. During the war it had been used by the
British alternately as a barracks and a hospital, and there
are said to have been many blood-stains on the walls
and hoof-beats on the floor when the family returned to
its welcoming shelter.
There in that sad year after the Revolution was over,
in the rooms where many a noble entertainment had
been given during Governor Franklin's regime and in the
times of the long list of governors preceding him, the
aristocratic Royalist society, the flower of Amboy, came
in twos and threes to say good-by before sailing for England. There were no more stately quadrilles, no more
courtly games of trick-track and la prime, no more laughter, – only tears and weeping farewells. In many a group
was a fair girl who afterwards became " my lady," and
many a handsome youth destined to be knighted, then
glad enough of a berth on some small merchantman to
bear them home to the country of which they knew only
by hearsay, but for which they had risked and lost all.
One who visited the Parker Castle many years after
the royal cross of St. George had been taken down
from the flag-staff in the centre of " Amboy Green,"
where the youth of the city have sported for more
than one hundred years, wrote of it as " a venerable
and fascinating pile, and a worthy rival of the storied
homes of older lands." Describing the drawing-room,
its largest apartment, she says:
It was along room, with walls painted a dull green. The spindle-legged Chippindale chairs, and the great claw-footed 'Orleans sofas,'
as they were called in those days, were covered with slips of white
dimity. Never was there a prettier scene than on those summer after-
noons when Miss Betsy Parker gave her galas, or tea-drinkings. The
noble, snow-crowned old lady, throned on her most pretentious white-
covered sofa, was a picture of age made lovely as her guests flashed
about her and paid their homage. Outside the millions of unfurled
leaves danced and sang and threw soft dark shadows on the festive scene,
and the sweet scents of old-fashioned flowers, white jasmine and musk-
roses stole through the aged casements. In that beautiful old green
drawing-room, where the gay, witty Betsy of early years said good-by
to her girlhood friends, she and her sister continued to receive all that
was best in Amboy society for over half a century.
From old letters and Amboy tales we know of many of
the long list of notables who came there. Among them
were Admiral Porter, then Captain Porter, and his fine
buxom daughter, who summered every year at Brighton
House ; the gallant Captain John Angus and little
Julianna, the pride of his life, who sleeps in old St.
Peter's Churchyard under one of Madame Scribblerus's
epitaphs ; Ambassador Meade, at whose wedding to
Miss Butler, of Perth Amboy, Miss Betsey Parker
was presented with a jewelled snuff-box; Old Judge
Nevill, who edited the first magazine printed in New
Jersey, and which for a time was published by James
Parker, and William Dunlop then the happy manager of the Park Theatre and the author of the successful tragedy of " Major Andre." Who knows, too, but
perhaps Aaron Burr came there when staying at Captain Lewis's house after his duel with Alexander Hamilton, or Joseph Bonaparte on the very day that his
famous brother was sent an exile to St. Helena, for it is
said he was in Amboy on that occasion. But no one is left to tell us if these maybe correct surmises are true.
The daughters of James Parker are all asleep beneath
violet-grown graves, under the holy shadows of old St.
Peter's, that historic place of worship, famous for its
massive silver communion-service, presented by Queen
Anne, and its melodious bell, given by some old sea-dog
of the eighteenth century. The Amboy they and their
father knew, with its beruflied and gold-laced aristocracy,
its fair days sanctioned by the crown, with their merry
hawking, cudgel-playing, and marionette shows, its
stately dances and sumptuous feasts, is no more. The
quaint little shops on the crooked lanes and side-streets
near the water-front, where India muslins, rich silks from
China, and heathen gewgaws could be bought, closed
their doors almost a century ago. The beautiful gardens
of Amboy are only memories. The stately mansions,
the delight of so many generations of Amboyites, –
Edinborough Castle, the home of the Johnstone family;
the Watson House, where John Watson the first
painter mentioned in the annals of American art resided;
the Willocks, Angus, Hamilton, Farmar, Terrill, and
Montgomerie homesteads,-have all fled before the encroaching hand of time. It is true that still standing are
many old houses with histories, a few proud monuments
to family cohesiveness, like the Parker Castle and the
Paterson Mansion, but most of them are rapidly decaying
old hulks of buildings, longing for death at the hands of
the elements. They are the poor relics of a once proud
city, which its early proprietors hoped would one day
be the pride of the western world and a glory to their
king.
