Reviews of Books

Reviewed by Robert E. Cray, Jr., Montclair State University

William Livingston was often exasperated. As the revolutionary war governor of New Jersey, Livingston had sundry political affairs to handle, his job complicated by the thrust and parry of British and American military forces, both regular soldiers and irregular militia, traversing his state. New Jersey's position alongside British-occupied lower New York added to Livingston's woes, for civilians pestered him to obtain passes to cross over enemy lines. Some desired to visit and console family members living in uncertain circumstances; others, the governor believed, feigned domestic concerns as a ruse to buy and exchange merchandise and were more interested in profit than succor. Even Livingston's sister requested a pass to go to New York, a request he denied for fear it might prompt charges of favoritism. Yet Livingston's relatives apparently found other ways to enter New York, not unlike countless other individuals. Official barriers crumbled before determined civilians and porous military borders.	1
This vignette is one of many that enliven Judith L. Van Buskirk's vividly written and solidly constructed Generous Enemies. Van Buskirk illuminates the challenges New Yorkers, along with nearby neighbors in New Jersey and Connecticut, faced when dealing with a British army of occupation in Manhattan and its environs. The British invasion fleet's arrival in the summer of 1776 ushered in a garrison government entrenched for the duration of the war. Many civilians departed before the soldiers arrived; others decided to stay and found themselves residing cheek by jowl with British forces. Even neutral Quakers found their lives altered. And some, whether in British- or American-controlled zones, pondered the possibilities of trade, legal or otherwise, aware that profits awaited the daring. Business was business, after all, with New York's bays and inlets impossible to patrol effectively and sanctioned crossings permitted by officials on both sides.	2
People's choices, as Van Buskirk aptly shows, carried consequences. Some loyalists who welcomed British troops found their homes commandeered for army lodgings. Leading loyalists such as Thomas Jones and William Smith bewailed the frivolous character of British commanders, who seemed more interested in sport than soldiering, and loyalist refugees in Manhattan, if glad to be free of patriot control, sometimes found the city a confusing, uncertain place. Nor were they alone—displaced New York patriots worried about the status of their Manhattan property. Those more securely situated in New Jersey, Connecticut, or patriot-controlled New York might find the Continental army's request for provisions less profitable than smuggling supplies for British gold. Imprisoned patriots fared worst of all. Ordinary soldiers and sailors incarcerated in the Sugar House in Manhattan or the Jersey prison ships moored in Wallaback Bay had few choices as they endured horrific conditions and faced death as a very real possibility.	3
Yet occupied New York did offer certain amenities, as the book's title implies. The British acted the role of generous hosts to friendly civilians, plying them with parties, and some civilians devised profitable schemes to enrich themselves. Romantic liaisons between soldiers and civilians blossomed too, although many soldiers preferred easily available prostitutes. Captured patriot officers on parole gave their word of honor not to escape, improved their circumstances, and moved with a degree of liberty in lower New York until exchanged. Rank clearly had its privileges. As gentlemen, British officers extended wartime courtesies to American officers, much as they expected patriots to do for their captured comrades. Patriot officers for their part eagerly accepted parole—they wanted to be considered gentlemen. Some went home and awaited the exchange, honor bound to return if none proved forthcoming. An officer's word meant something to his captors, and Van Buskirk shows well these particular codes of behavior.	. . .