390 HISTORY OF BROOKLYN.

the river in row-boats, build their little fires under its generous shade, when the women would boil the kettle and make teaÑand so, after a pleasant repast, would return home about sunset. The people of Brooklyn used frequently to meet and join with them in these out-of-door tea-parties, and the oldest inhabitants even now describe with zest their enjoyment of those simple pleasures. Then, in addition, there was the delight of the leisurely homeward sail or row across the river, on a calm summer’s eve, untroubled by fear of accident, for, in those days, there was but little shipping in the river, and steamboats had not been heard of. Sometimes, after an unusually warm day, the clouds rolling up in the west, about sunset, presented a most gorgeous appearance, and the voyagers would be lost in admiration of the scene, until, admonished by a warning flash of lightning and the deep-toned but distant thunder, to hasten their progress, if they would avoid the coming shower.

So, for many years, it was the trysting-place of Youth, and the delight of Old Age—but, one still summer Sabbath morning, the good people of Brooklyn were startled by an alarm of fire. After some time, it was discovered that the old Tulip Tree was burning; being hollow from age, it was supposed to have been accidentally set on fire by some fishermen who had made a fire within the cavity to cook their breakfast. While it was burning, the people were afraid to go near it, on account of its proximity to a powder magazine. In spite of this accident, however, it continued to put out leaves for several years longer, and when, at last, it died, its loss was much deplored by the people of New York and Brooklyn, many of whom continued to visit it until. its total destruction.

1808, April 13th. On this day the corner-stone of a monument to the Martyrs of the Prison Ships was laid, as described on pages 365 and 366.

In August following, the town was one day startled by the explosion of Sands’ Powder Mill, which was situated in the vicinity of the present Jay and Tillary streets. Fortunately, it happened between twelve and one o'clock in the day, when the people were all at dinner,—consequently no lives were lost, although forty kegs of powder were lost. The recently erected stone church, belonging to St. Anne’s Episcopal Society, was considerably damaged, its walls being some