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TrfFT-IBRARV OF 
 CONGRESS, 
 
 Two COWES REOBvEO 
 
 AUG. IS 1902 
 
 COP<HIO«T EHTTIY 
 
 CLASsfll^XXi. NoJ 
 COPY B. 
 
 COPY RIC3H- 
 1 902. 
 
 - A 
 
 aV 
 
 ix/ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 To meet a demand for something historic, something de- 
 scriptive, or an Indian legend, the author set forth to assem- 
 ble and write up matter taken from history, and from tradition, 
 from authority whose ancestors lost their lives in the Indian 
 uprisings, being careful to avoid anything fictitious. The read- 
 er, wishing to be generous enough to believe, being a stranger 
 to the locality where the scene is laid; we take the pride that 
 naturally comes with the labor of getting up the same, feeling 
 that the confidence of the reader is not misplaced. 
 
 There lived up to within, say, a decade ago, old citizens who 
 remembered hearing their grandfathers say that they knew 
 those who were acquainted with the early settlers that perished 
 at the hands of the Indians; but those tiow living, on the spur 
 of the advancement of to-day, their last thought to jot down 
 
 on paper, if only a few words, valuable information, now 
 barely obtainable, in the fading light. 
 
 The scene is laid within a radius of but a few miles of the 
 summit of the Shawangunks, including the EUenville and Ron- 
 dout Valley on the west side, and the •'Shongum" Valley to the 
 east; time less than 250 years ago, occupied by a sprinkling of 
 the early pioneers, who struggled hard for a living, for a home, 
 and sometimes for life itself. 
 
 The article, "A Day on the Shawangunk Mountains" is 
 given as a matter descriptive, and Cragsmoor a century ago, all 
 taken together, as a matter of variety; hoping that a part, at 
 least, will interest a few. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
^T)2V on tfie^hawangunii Ji\ountains. 
 
 Descriptive. July 1892. 
 
 "To stand upon the culminating point of any country, 
 whether it be in the roof of the world in the Himalayas, the 
 crowning summit of the alps, or upon the highest peak of New 
 York's southern hills, is to command the world, and on such a 
 height the scene of mountain, valley and plain is spread out as 
 a great panorama to the eye. So it was with us one beautiful 
 July morning, as, with the fresh breezes in our faces, we stood 
 on the summit of the Shawangunks and traced our earth from 
 the green mountains of Vermont to the high-land of the blue 
 Hudson, peered over Cornell, Whittenberg, Round Top and 
 Slide of the Catskills, followed our own mountains to the south- 
 ward and lost the view in the Kittatinnies of New Jersey and 
 Poconos of Pennsylvania. To the east lay the gap of the Hud- 
 son, and to the south. High Point, New Jersey's greatest boast. 
 At our feet slumbered the the Wallkill Valley beautiful in the 
 sunshine. Sam's Point, the highest of the Shawangunks, is 
 
 2340 feet in elevation, and rises as a precipitous wall of rock, 
 fractured and rent, from the valley 2000 feet below. 
 
 The Rock of the Region, which has given the Indian name, 
 meaning ''white,'' is a conspicuously handsome conglomerate 
 of rounded quartz pebbles, some coarse, some fine, in a siliceous 
 matrix, and the whiteness of the rock is in striking contrast to 
 the black lichen which clings to its surface. We do not see in 
 these mountains the gentle, regular contours of the Catskills, 
 where water's comparatively slow, gentle action has carved out 
 the valleys, leaving the mountains standing between, but here 
 we have a more rugged scenery of cliffs and precipices, of rifts 
 and chasms extending in every direction, and one does not walk 
 far without crossing over or climbing a cleft in the rocks. The 
 occurrence of the coarse Oneida conglomerate upon the soft 
 Hudson shale is the clue to this ruggedness, for the slipping of 
 the upper rock on its treacherous bed has caused the Assuring 
 
of the whole mountain's surface. There is an appearance of 
 power, of grand destruction about the place that gives it a wild 
 fascination. One feels that he is in a place where something 
 terrific has happened. 
 
 The combination of extended view, of precipitous walls, of 
 glaring white rocks, with its blotches of black lichen, and its 
 great rifts, with huge bowlders everywhere scattered about, 
 makes a scene that is a great pleasure to any lover of nature. 
 Scrambling over these rocks and rifts, grasping at a stunted 
 pine, stopping to pick a fine bunch of huckleberries, is a delight. 
 Down in the depths of the deepest rifts, lies perpetual snow, 
 where the summer's heat is too weak to melt the winter's store, 
 and down in the valley, they say, ice-cold water rushes from the 
 springs. All over the surface of the mountain lie great bowl- 
 ders, rounded travelers from other scenes — brown Catskill from 
 the northward; the broad white surfaces are as smooth as a pol- 
 ished floor or marble table; these shining surfaces are scratched 
 and grooved with lines to the southwestward ; the once sharp 
 edges of the many cliff's are rounded off most perfectly. What 
 does it mean? The Prophet of the Mountains, our old friend, 
 who has lived there all his life, has learned the lesson, told so 
 eloquently by the mute rocks, of the great mass of ice coming 
 down from the northward and covering.all the region. He has 
 learned how the glacier carried and left the bowlders, how it 
 scratched and grooved and polished the rocks, how it rounded 
 the sharp edges of the chasms, and changed the region, making 
 
 a different scene from what it would have been, had there been 
 no ice age in America, or had the Shawangunks been much 
 further to the south We have learned his lesson, too, and 
 when the old man knelt down and with his knife cut away the 
 clinging lichens from the rock and scraped from beneath the 
 soft, white, powdery "meal," the glacier's parting gift, we all 
 seemed very near to nature, listening to the very secrets of 
 her work, accomplished so long ago. Leaving Sam's Point we 
 followed the path along the edge of the western chasm for 
 quite a distance, leaping bowlders and rifts, sliding over polished 
 surfaces, till we come to the pretty little Maratanza Lake, with 
 its setting of low pine trees suggesting to our minds any region 
 but our own. 
 
 The four lakes, Mohonk, Minnewaska, Maratanza and 
 Awosting, lie on the summit of the Shawangunks and may be 
 glacial lakes. They do not appear however, to be the result of 
 drift deposit, but their beds may be depressions that were scoop- 
 ed out by the glacier as it passed over the surface. Of the four 
 lakes, Maratanza is the smallest and Awosting the largest, and 
 it was our pleasure to see both on that delightful day's travel, 
 and they will always be in our memory, as pearls in the moun- 
 tain, reflecting the light above. ' 
 
 Another writer has said: "The highest of these promon- 
 tories is Sam's Point, 2340 feet above the sea, and affording an 
 extensive and beautiful view. There are higher points in the 
 Catskills and the Adimndacks, but it is doubtful if anywhere in 
 
the State of New York there is a panorama superior, if equal, to 
 this. A sharp breeze is almost invariably sweeping across the 
 bleak rocks; and the crevices round about hold their ice and 
 their chill, sending out a cold draft as the day declines: The 
 sun is sinking: to those denizens of the valleys the twilight has 
 al eady come as you perceive from the blue haze and the gloom 
 that have overspread them, but to you it is still the glorious re- 
 splendent hour of sunset, and you watch the red disc settle 
 slowly upon that far away horizon, dropping like molten lead 
 through the obstructing clouds, and finally blinking a last 
 drowsy good-bye and leaving the world to struggle with the 
 night. The gloom deepens in the valleys; a glimmer of light 
 here, and a glimmer of light there, mark the existence of a cot- 
 tage or a town and show that humanity has plucked the stars 
 from heaven and refuses to go to bed when "the curfew tolls 
 the knt-U of parting day." 
 
 ery, Pine Bush, Ulsterville, Burlingham, Thompson Ridge, 
 Circleville, Crawford, Dwarskill, Walker Valley, Middletown 
 (city), Bloomingburgh, Howells, Cragsmoor, Mountain Dale, 
 Centreville, Liberty and Monticello. 
 
 Panorama of mountain peaks at the horizon as seen from 
 Sam's Point in their respective States; 
 
 Housatonic Mountains of Connecticut. 
 
 Berkshire Mountains of Massachusetts. 
 
 Green Mountains of Vermont. 
 
 Kittatinnies and High Point of New Jersey. 
 
 Poconos of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Helderberg Mountains, the Catskills, the Shandaken to the 
 northwest. 
 
 To the southeast the Ramapo and the Highlands of the 
 Hudson of New York. 
 
 Panorama of hamlets and villages as seen from Sam's Point; 
 Cornwall, Cold Spring, Modena, Walden, Brunswick, Montgom- 
 
AWOSTING 
 
MARATANZA 
 
Jakes. 
 
 Awosting Lake, which we see from Sam's Point, is one and 
 one-half miles in length, and in its deepest part 80 feet. It has 
 heavily wooded and rock bound shores, whose cliffs some places 
 rise over 100 feet perpendicular from the water. If visiting 
 first, Mohonk, Minnewaska and Awosting, in their deep setting, 
 between ledges and crags, fringed with hemlock and spruce; 
 then visiting Maratanza, situated in its slight depression, with 
 its evergreen pine only a few feet high, and not seeing any 
 mountain range beyond its low shore, one would believe that he 
 
 was in some vast low-land region, rather than on the highest 
 peak of the whole Shawangunk range, or on the shore of the 
 highest lake in this portion of the State. 
 
 It has been told in story, that its name was derived from a 
 squaw. 
 
 Near the north edge of lake, it has a floating marsh; near 
 the westerly side, several acres of the white lily, on the south- 
 erly side, a sandy beach ; and save for a shelter for the tired 
 traveler, its shores are as wild as in days of yore. 
 
'And there's not a vestige of rotten log 
 to mark the spot." 
 
 The Cabin Homes 
 
 OF 
 
 Cragsmoor One Hundred Years Ago. 
 
 If having finished reading the New York World, or Journal 
 of to-day, you would kindly loan your attention to reminiscences 
 of yesterday, the day before, and the days before that, that 
 have blended in oblivion. Then if at loo years ago, leaving the 
 site now Ellenville, without a house in the place, or bridge 
 across the creek, you find yourself at the base of the mountain; 
 here by the site now occupied by the cider mill, you turn on an 
 old wood road,f that runs up the North GuUey, following close- 
 ly along the stream for a distance of about two miles, opposite 
 
 ♦Of course, the site now Cragsmoor, had no name then. 
 
 tThe name, "Old Wood Road," was simply a way cleared from trees and 
 brush, by the early Pioneer, so as lo get over with a wood shod sleigh. No 
 pretense being made as regard earth or road bed. 
 
 now Hurst's place; here the road turning to the south, and 
 crossing near now, Adam Wilhelm's, and continuing south, 
 across the upper end of South GuUey, (just above the road now 
 in use), coming out by the watering trough, (now used) in the 
 hemlocks, this was the only road then. At the top of the hill, 
 it continued on as it does now, past the "Oak Tree" at the top 
 of the hill just mentioned, by (now), Mrs. Kier's barn, a road 
 branched off. running up past, now Lakwelend, and then south- 
 erly, over the hill, past Kindberg's, and thence down the moun- 
 tain. Of the old homes then, they are entirely wiped out, and 
 if we were to review that scene, we would have to blot from our 
 mind, so to speak, all of the buildings of to day. Those Cabin 
 
AN EARLY SETTLOR 3 KCHX 
 
Homes were built of logs ; the Hour ofttimes of hewn plank, 
 and the sheathing for the roof, to which to nail the shingle, were 
 often flattened poles. The shingle was made by a "riving ma- 
 chine;" this was a large strong knife, fastened on the under 
 side of a long pole, or small log, say about 2; or 30 feet long: 
 working on a pivot, 4 or 5 feet from knife, the small end of pole 
 used as a handle or lever, operated by one or two men, who 
 would walk back and forth on a tread ; placing a block of wood 
 the desired length- of the shingle under the knife, then with one 
 forward motion of the lever, they would cut off a shaving in the 
 form of a shingle.* Thus the pioneer, with an ax and riving 
 machine, could build a house. This was probably a hundred 
 years ago; for 75 or 80 years back, a saw mill was built on the 
 South GuUey stream, near where Philip Gingold lived, and fur- 
 nished sawed lumber, and houses after this were built partially 
 of logs and boards. 
 
 CONVEYANCE. 
 
 In those days, say 80 years ago, there were no horses or 
 
 wagons, but instead oxen and home-made wood shod sleighs, 
 
 that were used all the year round. In August, and in the fall 
 
 months following, a man would take a few bags of grain loaded 
 
 ♦After the riving machine, and before the introduction of sawed shingle, the 
 early settler invented for home use a splitting machine, and then used split 
 shingle which was considered by many superior to our sawed shingle now 
 used. 
 
 *The authority for this, who heard their parents tell it, arc still living. Mr. 
 Casper Fisher and Mr. Oliver Evans. 
 
 on the sleigh and go a day's journey, a distace of 8 or 10 miles 
 and have it ground into flour and feed, returning on the mor- 
 row ; always taking along an ax, an augur and saw for repairs if 
 needed to sleigh. The first wheeled vehicle that was used, was 
 made by one Thomas Whelply, it was when wagons were 
 beginning to be used in these parts. He made this, a two- 
 wheeled vehicle, getting the wheels by sawing cross-wise 
 through a large log, boring holes through the center for axle- 
 tree and attaching a pole to this, to be used as a wagon tongue, 
 on this he placed his grain, and drawn by oxen, "went to mill" 
 at Wawarsing; claiming to be the first one down the mountain 
 with a wagon. Some time after this he lost one of his oxen, 
 then putting shafts to his "wagon," he used the one remaining 
 ox, and oft-times in this way, he went to church at Wawarsing.* 
 
 THOSE FORGOTTEN HOMES. 
 
 Among those who lived here about loo or 125 years ago, was 
 Daniel Lilly on the Bleakly place, Leonard Lilly on the Kind- 
 berg place, Alex. Ferguson on the place now Lakwelend. There 
 were other old homes, but no one living to-day. knows who oc- 
 
 NOTE.— Between Lakwelend and Mr. Kindberg's, and on the land of the 
 latter, is a flat rock, it is in the woods about 30 ft. from the edge of his upper 
 field on the summit of the hill. It is an irregular diamond shape, about 16 ft. 
 long, 8 ft. wide, 2 ft. high at west end, barely a foot high at east end, and on 
 the west side of an old wood road, being the only road that crossed the moun- 
 tain 100 years ago, as before stated. Mr. J. W. Coddington, now deceased, who 
 was over 80, related that when he was a little boy, he heard the old folks say 
 that on that rock some of the neighbors used to pound their grain, telling this 
 too at different times in his life, and long before his mind could have been sus- 
 
cupied them. Often the location of once a home, is marked by 
 old apple trees; but the stone of the old fire-place and chimney 
 would be taken away by a younger generation and rebuilt in the 
 new log house, which in time and in its turn, had fallen to de- 
 cay, and from there the stone would be placed by other hands 
 into a stone wall along the road side, and then, after lying there 
 30 or 40 years, the wall would be carted away, and built in the 
 stone summer residence of to-day. In those old days, they 
 
 pected of being feeble; it is worthy of belief, as he was a truthful old man. But 
 the reason this is mentioned here, and should this booklet survive, as printed 
 matter some times does, and some future inhabitant build a modern home, 
 having this rock in his yard, he can consider the above for what he believes it 
 worth, and have the benefit of a tale told so long ago. 
 
 Struck the fire from the flint, their light was the tallow candle, 
 their stove the fire-place. 
 
 Ask any citizen of Cragsmoor to-day who cleared the land by 
 his house, or the meadow by the barn, and if the answer be, "I 
 do not know," the inference is drawn that some one is forgotten ; 
 a bit uninteresting this, because the scene is past. But he who 
 shouldered the bag of grain in the morning and carried it to the 
 mill, returning with it as flour at night, in time that a portion 
 might be made into biscuit for the family supper, wan the 
 Pioneer. As the old inhabitant has been heard to remark, 
 repeating the words of his father before him, that "they were 
 days that tried men's souls," those days, in days of yore. 
 
'We see in the depths of the virgin wilderness, 
 the first half-dozen isolated log huts, each in 
 tile centre of its little clearing, bordered on 
 either side by miles of almost pathless for- 
 ests. We see at these rude pioneer homes 
 the father with the gun by his side, planting 
 his corn among the blackened stumps and 
 logs. We see the mother surrounded by her 
 infant children, busily plying her daily toil, 
 within the single room of her humble home, 
 and often casting anxious glances into the 
 shadowy woods, which her imagination at 
 all times peopled with hordes of wild beasts 
 and savage men." 
 
 The Early Pioneer and His Dusky Neighbor. 
 
 From American history we learn that many of the earlier 
 settlements owe their establishment to the religious persecu- 
 tions of the old country. Holland at one time being a govern- 
 ment founded on religious tolerance, all religions flocked 
 there. 
 
 The Huguenots being driven from their homes in France, 
 found refuge among the Hollanders, and afterward emigrated 
 to America. Coming up the Hudson on board a sloop, touching 
 at several places in search of a location, and finally anchored off 
 
 the mouth of Esopus creek, finding that the soil here was 
 rich, Indians friendly, and expressing a desire that they settle 
 among them. Tradition says, that here the Huguenots disem- 
 barked, and with all their goods, (which were few), wended their 
 way slowly in this new land, until they reached the flats on 
 which is now the city of Kingston, and with the consent of the 
 natives, they began the establishment of their homes, yes, our 
 Ulster county, this was in 1655 Soon after this a general war 
 broke out between the Indians and the white settlers of Ams- 
 
terdam : on hearing this news, the inhabitants fleii from their 
 newly made homes, leaving their belongings to the mercy of 
 the savages, which they appropriated. We find on the records 
 at Albany, that the whites returned to their homes at the close 
 of hostilities. The Indians had their wigwams all around the 
 farms of the whites, and their maize* fields and bean patches 
 were near to each other The cows and hogs of the settlers 
 roamed at will over the untilled fiats, often damaging the crops 
 of the Indian women who complained to the owner, but the 
 stock was still allowed to roam as before. Now and then a pig 
 was found with an arrow or bullet in it, still all might have 
 went well, had it not been for trouble arising from an entirely 
 different source. Jacob Jansen Stohl wrote to Governor Stuy- 
 vesant, the following, viz: "The people of Fort Orange, (Al- 
 bany), sell liquor to the Indians, so that not only I, but all the 
 people of the Great Esopus,t daily see them drunk, from which 
 nothing good, but the ruin of the land, must be the consequence." 
 In a letter froin Thomas Chambers to Governor Stuyvesant, 
 dated May, 165S, he writes: "I observed that the Indians had a 
 cask of brandy lying under a tree. I tasted myself, and found it 
 was pure brandy. About dusk the Indians fired at. and killed 
 Harmen Jacobsen, who was aboard a sloop in the river ; and dur- 
 ing the night they set fire to the house of Jacob Adrijansa, and 
 
 ♦Indian corn. 
 
 +The whole of Ulster county was then called Esopus. 
 
 the people were compelled to flee for their lives. Once be- 
 fore we were driven away from our property. As long as we 
 are under the jurisdiction of the West India Co. we ask your 
 assistance, as Esopus could feed the whole of New Netherland. 
 The Indians have promised to deliver the savage who killed 
 Jacobsen. Do not begin the war too soon; not until we have 
 prepared a strong hold for defense." Other depredations were 
 made and more letters written asking for aid. The following 
 are extracts from the minutes of Governor Stuyvesant's visit to 
 Esopus. "We left in the private yacht on the 28th of May, 165S, 
 and arrived at the Esopus Creek the 29th with sixty soldiers, 
 and persuaded a friendly native to go inland and ask the Indian 
 Sachems to meet me at the house of Jacob Jansen Stohl the fol- 
 lowing day, assuring to them no harm on meeting. We then 
 marched to Stohl's house, which was the nearest to the planta- 
 tion of the savages. About fifty responded. After they had 
 all gathered under a tree outside of the enclosure, about a 
 stone's throw from the hedge, and had sat down, as is their cus- 
 tom, I went out to them. One of their number arose and began 
 a long speech telling how in Kieft's time our nation had killed 
 so many of their people, which they had put away and forgotten. 
 
 I answered that this all happened before my time, and did 
 not concern me; that they and the other savages had drawn it 
 all upon themselves by killing several Christians, which I would 
 not repeat, because when peace was made, the matter had all 
 
been forgotten, and put away among us, (their customary ex- 
 pressions on sucli occassions). I asked them if since peace was 
 made any harm had been done to them or theirs; they Icept a 
 complete silence. I stated to them, and upbraided them for the 
 murder, injuries and insults during my administration, to dis- 
 cover the truth and author of which I had come to Esopus at 
 this time, yet with no desire to begin a general war, or punish 
 any one innocent of it, if the murderer was surrendered and the 
 damages for the burned buildings paid. I added that they had 
 invited us to settle on their lands in Esopus, and that we did 
 not own the land, nor did we desire to until we had paid for it. 
 I asked why they had committed the murder, burned the 
 houses, killed the hogs and did other injuries. Then one of the 
 Sachems* stood up and said, "the Dutch sold the "boison* 
 (brandy) to the savages, and were the cause of the Indians be- 
 coming 'cacheus' (crazy), mad or drunk, and then had commit- 
 ted the outrages. That at such times they, the chiefs, could not 
 keep in bounds the young men, who were spoiling for a fight; 
 that the murder had not been committed by any one of their 
 tribe, but by a Neversink savage; that the Indian who had set 
 fire to the houses had run away and would not be here. That 
 they were not enemies and did not desire to or intend to fight, 
 but had no control over the young men." 
 
 I told them if the young men had a desire to fight to come 
 
 »The names of the Sachems, Paspequahon, Preuwarmacham, Nachheha- 
 math. 
 
 forward now; I would match them man for man, or twenty 
 against thirty, or even forty; that now was the proper time for 
 it, that it was not well to plague, injure or threaten the farmer 
 or the women and children; that if they did not cease in the 
 future, we might try to recover damages. We would kill them, 
 capture their wives and children, and destroy their corn and 
 beans. I would not do it because I told them I would not harm 
 them, but I hoped they would immediately indemnify the own- 
 er of the houses and deliver up the murderer. To close the con- 
 ference, I stated my decision, that to prevent further harm be- 
 ing done to my people, or the selling of more brandy to the In- 
 dians, my people should all remove to one place, and live close 
 by each other, that they might better sell me the whole country 
 of the Swannekers (Dutch), so that the hogs of the latter could 
 not run into the corn fields of the savages and be killed by them. 
 The chiefs promised that they would not let it occur again. 
 
 The soldiers were set to work, and with the farmers built 
 an enclosure or stockade around the place occupied by the log 
 cabins of the whites. 
 
 Having accomplished this work, the Governor and his 
 troops set out on their return, except twenty-four men left to 
 guard the place. But peace begun under such favorable aus- 
 pices was of short duration, for Governor Stuyvesant soon after 
 received a letter from the Sergeant of the garrison, "send me 
 quickly orders, the Indians are becoming savage and insolent; 
 
they are angry that you challenged tu'enty of their men to 
 fight. Those returned from the beaver hunt say if they had 
 been here they would have accepted the challenge. They talk 
 about it every day, and to-day there are about five hundred sav- 
 ages assembled. Provide us as quickly as possible with ammu- 
 nition." 
 
 Ensign Dirck Smith was dispatched to the relief of the gar- 
 rison with twenty-five additional troops, making the fighting 
 strength of fifty exclusive of the citizens. This for a while had 
 the effect of keeping peace. In October 1658, the Esopus In- 
 dians made a conveyance* of the land as they had promised. 
 But more or less brandy was procured from some quarter by 
 the natives, and there was more or less trouble as a result. In 
 the autumn of 1659 the Indians made an attack on the village, 
 on the site of the present City Hall. In the spring of 1660 there 
 was a renewal of hostilities; for damages the Indians made a 
 conveyance to Stuyvesant, of much land lying up the Wallkill 
 and Rondout Valleys. Then on June 7, 1663, two hundred In- 
 dians made an attack on the village, (site now of Kingston), and 
 on Hurley, (called the New Village). In the former twelve 
 houses were burned; the latter entirely destroyed, fifteen men, 
 four women and two children were killed. Troops then pursued 
 the savages as far as Tuttletown, some twenty miles, destroy- 
 ing all their wigwams, maize fields, food and peltries; under 
 these circumstances the Indians, (Delawares), sued for peace, 
 
 *This was the first jjrant of land in Ulster county. 
 
 and the truce was observed for about ninety years or until the 
 breaking out of the French and Indian War. 
 
 THE DELAWARES. 
 
 The Delawares were a powerful and warlike tribe, that came 
 they say, from the far west. On reaching the Hudson river 
 they met the different tribes of the Mengwe or Iroquois; they 
 Were more or less constantly at war with some of these tribes, 
 and defeating them, they (the Iroquois) retired to the region of 
 the lakes. The Delawares had a village at Cochecton, where 
 they held their green corn dances and dog-festivals, and at 
 Minisink they held their councils of war, while their principal 
 settlement was Peenpack, in the heart of the Delaware country. 
 Their old Indian trail connecting with the Machicannittuck* at 
 Esopus, was down the Mamakating and Rondout valleys. 
 
 THE SIX NATIONS. 
 
 Some time after the wars between the Delawares and Iro- 
 quois, the latter, who had theretofore been separate tribes, each 
 imder its own respective chief, formed an alliance, viz: the Mo- 
 hawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, Senecas and Tuscaroras, 
 the latter reaching as far south as North Carolina. This 
 alliance was called the Six Nations, governed by the united 
 councils of their aged sachems and chiefs. 
 *Hudson River. 
 
To illustrate their prominence after this, we quote from 
 Lossing, his "Field Book of the Revolution," says: The na- 
 tives* had convej'ed a territory to the "Proprietors of Pennsyl- 
 vania," the boundaries of which were to extend a certain dis- 
 tance on the Delaware or "Great Fishkill" river, and as far back 
 in a northwest direction, as a man could travel in a day and a 
 half. The Indians intending the depth of the tract should be 
 about fifty miles, the distance a man would ordinarily walk in 
 the specified time. But the purchasers employed the best ped- 
 estrians in the colonies, who did not stop by the way even to eat 
 while rjtJtwt'Hjr the line; the expiration of the day and a half 
 found them eighty-five miles in the interior. The Indians bold- 
 ly charged them with deception and dishonesty. The "proprie- 
 tors" claimed that they had become the owners of the lands with- 
 in the Forks of the Delaware river by a regular form of convey- 
 ance. The Delawares on the other hand, denied the validity 
 of the sale. The case was in 1742 laid before the Six Nations for 
 arbitration, who, after hearing both sides, decided that the dis- 
 puted territory could not be sold by the Delawares, as they 
 were a conquered people, who had lost their right in the soil; 
 that if the land did not belong to the white people, it was the 
 property of the Six Nations." 
 
 THE PERIOD OF THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 In Fiske's history of the Revolutionary War, it says: "The 
 *The Delaware?. 
 
 barbarous border fighing was due to the fact that powerful 
 tribes of wild Indians still confronted us on every part of our 
 steadily advancing frontier.* They would have killed and 
 scalped our backwoodsmen, even if we had had no quarrel with 
 George III, and there could be no lasting peace until they were 
 crushed completely. When the war broke out, their alliance with 
 British was natural, but the truculent spirit which sought to 
 put that savage alliance to the worst uses, was something which 
 it would not be fair to ascribe to the British commanders in 
 general; it must be charged to the account of Lord George Ger- 
 main, and a few unworthy men who were willing to be his 
 tools." 
 
 It is well known that the Indians and Tories were incited 
 by the British, as the history also says that "in the battle of 
 Newtown. Aug. 29, 1779, fifteen hundred Tories and Indians 
 were led by Sir John Johnson." Now as to the more local scene. 
 The English came as near as Kingston, which they burned. f 
 Jo Brantf came as near as Minisink, while Shanks Ben^ confined 
 
 *This frontier was still confined to Western New York. 
 
 tKingston was twice burned; by the Indians, June 7, 1663; by the British, Oc- 
 tober 16, 1777. 
 
 tjo Brant or Thayendaneega (accent on penult) was educated for the Chris- 
 tian ministry, but the event of the Revolutionary War changed his intended 
 calling as well as his character for life. See Stone's life of Brant. 
 
 gShanks Ben was a half-breed, although spoken of in the history of Ulster 
 county, as an Indian. 
 
mostly in these parts. The descendants of the early Huguenot 
 settler kept gradually pushing up the fertile Rondout Valley. 
 Napanoch was quite a little village. There were three houses at 
 Fantinekill, one at thesite of now EUenville, a few at Leurenkill 
 and Homowack. Tradition says, that at Fantinekill, before the 
 white's settled there, it was occupied by the Indians, their wig- 
 
 wams being situated on a pretty piece of flat land on top of the 
 hill, west of the road; whether they were driven away by troops, 
 or left in anticipation of their coming, or of their own free will, 
 history don't record ; neither does it state the date of the massa- 
 cre, but it is supposed to be a few weeks before the burning of 
 Wawarsing, which was on August 12, 1781. 
 
OLD FORT" AT NAPANOCM 
 
Il(^ssacpe at fantineliill. 
 
 From the History of Ulster County, except notes marked 
 ♦, which were taken from other History. 
 
 This was an attack upon three families; those of widow 
 Isaac Bevier, Jesse Bevier and Michael Socks. They lived 
 about one-half a mile northwest of EUenville. It appears that 
 the attack was simultaneous on those three families; in fact, 
 they lived so near each other, that the one could not be assault- 
 ed without alarming the other two. The assault was made just 
 at the dawn of day. There was a young negro by the name of 
 Robert, living at the widow Isaac Bevier's; he heard an unusual 
 tramping around the house early in the morning like that of 
 horses. He got up and listened, and soon found out that it was 
 Indians. He opened the door and taking a little start, jumped 
 
 out and ran. As he was going, he received a wound in his 
 head, from a tomahawk and a ball went through the elbow of his 
 roundabout, but did not hurt him The Indians sung out in 
 their native tonge, "run you black! run you black!" It does 
 not appear that he was pursued by them. He made his escape 
 over the low land to Napanoch, but tarried a while in a field at 
 a stack, in order to stop the blood, which was flowing profusely 
 from his wound. Whether the Indians met with much resist- 
 ance at this house does not appear, but we know that the widow 
 and both her sons were killed. The house was set on fire and 
 the woman went into the cellar. The daughter Magdalene took 
 
Ihe Dutch f'li in if !/ Bib/e with her. When the flames approached 
 them there, they chose rather to deliver themselves up to the 
 savages than to endure a horrible death by fire. The event 
 proved that "'the one must be taken and the other left." They 
 made their way through the cellar window, the mother in ad- 
 vance ; the mother instantly became a prey to the ruth- 
 less tomahawk, whilst the daughter was retained as a prisoner. 
 Some of the old people say that she was saved on account of her 
 not being altogether sane, which was the case. The Bible 
 was wrested from her hands and stamped in the mud. When 
 the Indians left the place they took her a short distance into 
 the woods, and then sent her back with a war-club, and a letter 
 written by the Tories to Capt. Andries Bevier at Napanoch. 
 The club was stained with fresh blood and hair; it was long in 
 the family of the Bevier's, but is now lost. On her return she 
 recovered the Bible preserved from the flames; some of the 
 leaves were soiled by the mud, but not materially. It is still 
 preserved as a precious relic in the family of her connections. 
 Whether the two boys perished in the flames or were toma- 
 hawked, history does not record. 
 
 The family of Michael Socks were all killed. As none sur- 
 vived to tell the awful tale, no particulars can be given. There 
 were a father, a mother and two sons young men, and two chil- 
 dren. One young man either a Socks or a Bevier, had run some 
 distance from the house into a piece of ploughed ground, where 
 
 it appears that a desperate contest had taken place between him 
 and an Indian, A large patch of ground was trodden down, 
 and the scalped and mangled corpse of the young man lay upon 
 it. He had several wounds from a tomahawk on his arms. A 
 few days before this, at a training at Napanoch, one of these 
 boys boasted that he was not afraid of Indians. 
 
 At the house of Jesse Bevier, "there were men of valor," 
 and the enemy accordingly met a warm reception. The first 
 salute the old man received was the blocks* in the window were 
 stove in, and two or three balls were fired just above his head as 
 he lay in the bed. He sprang from the bed and seized his axe, 
 with which he prevented them from entering the window, at 
 the same time calling to his sons, David and John, who were 
 soon in readiness and a desperate action ensued. Those Be- 
 viers were all famous marksmen, and extraordinarily fond of 
 hunting; especially David, who had some choice powder for 
 that purpose, which his mother brought forward in the course 
 of the action. He declined to use it, saying that common pow- 
 der w'as good enough to shoot Indians with. They had their 
 loose powder in basins on the table for the sake of convenience, 
 and measured their charges only in their hands. It appears 
 that the women assisted in loading, it being common to have a 
 double stock of arms. But the enemy fired the old log house at 
 a point where the little band of Huguenot heroes could not bring 
 
 *Supposed to be some kind of re-inforcement. 
 
their guns to bear. The situation now became alarming in the 
 extreme. Every drop of liquid in the house was applied to re- 
 tard the progress of the flames by the women. They poured 
 milk and swill through the cracks in the logs, hoping in this 
 way to protract their existence until relief might come from 
 Napanoch. At this crisis, when death in its most awful form 
 was staring them in the face, that pious mother proposed that 
 they should suspend hostilities, and unite in petitions to the 
 throne of grace for mercy. David replied that "she might 
 pray, but they would continue the fight." In the course of the 
 morning after the battle had commenced, Jessie Bevier's dog 
 either through fear or instinct, ran to Napanoch, a distance of 
 about a mile, to the house of Louis Bevier, his master's brother. 
 Louis could distinctly hear the firing at Fantinekill, and could 
 easily guess what was going on, but fear had hitherto deterred 
 him from going, but now he resolved to go if he should go 
 alone. He took his gun and hastened to his neighbor, Johan- 
 nis Bevier's, and told him that his brother's dog had come to 
 call him, and he would go to bis relief; that it was too much for 
 flesh and blood to stand, and wanted him to go with him, but 
 he thought it not prudent to go, as the Indians were expected 
 there every minute, and it was almost certain death for them to 
 go alone. But there was a youth by the name of Conradt, son 
 of Johannis, whose patriotism and courage rose superior to all 
 fear, and he determined to go. Those two set out over the low 
 
 lands for Fantinekill. When they came near, an Indian sentry 
 on the hill, fired an alarm. The Indians and Tories not know- 
 ing how large a company was coming, immediately withdrew 
 from the house they had rushed in. The flames had at this 
 moment extended in spite of all their exertions to the curtains 
 of the bed. The door was now thrown open and the women 
 rushed down the hill to the spring for water to extinguish the 
 flames, whilst* the men stood at the door with their guns in 
 their hands to protect them. Amongst* the women who went 
 to the spring was Jessie's daughter Catherine; whilst at the 
 spring she heard the groans of the dying in the swampy ground 
 near by. Tories were also recognized by their striped panta- 
 loons, and also by the streaks that the sweat made in their 
 painted faces. The fire was happily extinguished, and this 
 family saved from an awful catastrophe. Had not the assis- 
 tance arrived from Napanoch precisely when it did, we can not 
 see how they could have escaped. 
 
 "We must now ask the attention of the reader to what 
 transpired at Napanoch. Col. Cortland's regiment had been 
 lying in the vicinity of Napanoch for some time previous to 
 this event, but their time of service had expired a few days be- 
 fore the assault was made at Fantinekill, and it was supposed 
 that the Tories had found this out and made it known to the 
 Indians. But the soldiers having received some money, had 
 
 *As spelled in history from which this was obtained. 
 
got into a frolic at a tavern at Wawarsing, (two mi es from Na- 
 panoch), and were there on the morning of the alarm. They 
 were mustered with all possible speed, and when they came to 
 Napanoch were joined by Capt. Andries Bevier's company, and 
 they marched to the scene of the action. When they came to 
 the Napanoch creek, the Indian yells and war-whoops were 
 heard on the western hills, and the savages fired on them as 
 they were crossing the stream, and continued to fire on them 
 from the woods as they passed on toward Fantinekill. Their 
 fire was promply returned by the regiment. It is not known 
 that any loss was sustained by either side at this stage of the 
 action, but there is no doubt that Jessie and his sons killed 
 some of them as before intimated. The Indians made their 
 way off to the west, firing the woods as they went to avoid pur- 
 suit. 
 
 When the war-whoop was heard on the niUs west of Napa- 
 noch and the soldiers were seen leaving the place to go to Fan- 
 tinekill, the women, children and invalids made a precipitate 
 flight to the Shawangunk mountains, expecting that the Indians 
 would enter and burn the place, which indeed they could have 
 done with ease, had they known the situation of it. 
 
 Two sons of Andries Bevier, Samuel and Cornelius, lads of 
 twelve and fourteen, ran across the mountain through the 
 woods bare-footed, a distance of not less than five miles. They 
 first came to the residence of a Mr Mance, on the east side of 
 
 the mountain ; from thence they made their way to Shongum 
 village, and gave the alarm. Several members of the Jacob 
 Bevier family also made their way across the mountain, but 
 some of the neighbors missed their way, got lost, and were all 
 night in the mountain which was full of people from both sides 
 with horns hunting for them. The little ones and those who 
 were feeble and infirm went only to the base of the mountain 
 and secreted themselves amid the craggy rocks, and in a ravine 
 called Louis' Ravine. In their flight to the mountain they 
 were joined by the young black (Robert), who escaped from 
 Fantinekill. 
 
 In fording the Rondout a child of Andrew Bevier, by the 
 name of Lewis, came near going down with the current. He 
 was caught by a friendly hand and helped ashore. When they 
 came to the foot of the mountain, an invalid soldier climbed up 
 a tree to see if Napanoch was on fire. 
 
 He heard the fireing of Cortland regiment, and said he 
 could distinguish it from the fireing of the Indians, because 
 they fired by platoons. Toward night the men came to look for 
 their families, but apprehending that they might be Tories 
 they gave no heed to their calls, until they were sure they were 
 their friends. 
 
 As to those who perished at Fantinekill, six were buried in 
 one grave near the place where they lived and died. There 
 were nine of the whites that lost their lives. Loss of enemy 
 
not known. The only house which stood where the village of 
 EUenville is situated, was occupied by the family of John Bod- 
 ly. They had a narrow escape; they fled for the mountain. 
 The house was burned as those at Fantinekill. 
 
 MURDER OF JOHN AND ELSIE MACK. 
 
 John Mack lived at Wawarsing; he had a son-in-law named 
 John Mance, who lived on the east side of the Shawangunks. 
 Some time during the war, he resolved to go over and visit his 
 daughter, accompanied by another daughter named Elsie. 
 There was at this time a foot path crossing the mountain. It 
 began on the west side, at a place called Port Hyxon, and ended 
 at Col. Jansen's west of the Shawangunk village. They crossed 
 the mountain in safety and made the contemplated visit. On 
 their return the son-in-law accompanied them with two horses 
 as far as the top of the mountain, for him and Elsie to ride on, 
 the old man being rather infirm. 
 
 John Mance* proposed to take his rifle with him, but his 
 
 ♦NOTE — When John was desired by his father to bring up the horses for the 
 purpose of assisting Mr. Mack and his daughter some distance on their way, 
 he readily assented to the proposal provided he might carry his rifle with him, 
 but the old man deemed it an act of childish folly to be pestered with firearms 
 on horseback, resolutely withstood his proviso, and at length snatching the 
 halters from John's hands, he said in angry tone, that he would go himself. 
 The mother, however, could not brook the idea of her son's disobedience, and 
 finally succeeded in persuading him to accompany their friends without the 
 encumbrance of his faithful weapon. 
 
 fatherf opposed it, saying it was not necessary. When they ar- 
 rived at the top of the hill where they were to separate they 
 dismounted and the old man seated himself on a log and smok- 
 ed his pipe. While sitting there, Mance discovered by the 
 horses ears that they heard something, and looking around 
 he discovered two men advancing in the path which they had- 
 just left, and another, whom he recognized as a notorious In- 
 dian called Shank Ben taking a circuitous route through the 
 woods, in order to get in advance and so surround them. Mance 
 understood his design and was aware of the imminent danger 
 that awaited them. It was then that he bitterly regretted that 
 he had not taken his rifle. He said that he might have shot the 
 Indian if he had had it. The other two were Tories. They had 
 with them two negroes whom they had taken prisoners at Col. 
 Jansen's. Mance started with Elsie by the hand in a direction 
 so as to elude the design of the enemy. The old man knowing 
 it would be vain for him to attempt to flee, sat still, resigned to 
 his awful fate. Mance r.an with the girl until he came to a 
 precipice of about twenty feet high, perpendicular, down which 
 
 tNOTE— It would not seem out of place here to mention, and especially for 
 the now rising generation in this vicinity, that Christopher Mance who was a 
 tailor by occupation, (familiarly called Stuffle Mance), who was at this time 
 past 70, and the son John who figured so prominently in the above narrative, 
 subsequently moved to Cragsmoor, and with the grandson, ("Old Uncle 
 Jakey") who lived to be go, and the great grandson ("Uncle James") who liv- 
 ed to be 84, all lie buried in the Cragsmoor cemetery, east of the "Oak Tree;" 
 the grave of the latter being marked by a bowlder resting on a marble base. 
 Their graves are those of the pioneer. 
 
he jumped. Here he was obliged to leave the girl. He thought 
 he might have saved her, had it not been for a little dog which 
 followed them and kept constantly barking by which the Indians 
 could follow. In jumping down the precipice he sprained his 
 ankle, which troubled him considerably. He was obliged to 
 take off his shoe and stocking and go bare-footed on account of 
 the swelling of his foot. When he came in sight of Col. Jan- 
 sen's, he saw a number of men around, and, not knowing 
 whether they were friends or foes, he tarried some time, until he 
 discovered they were whites. He then approached and related 
 the awful tale. His father-in-law and the maiden were found 
 side by side covered with purple gore. It was with difficulty 
 in after times, that Mance could be persuaded to relate this 
 melancholy tale. 
 
 Intimately connected with this narrative is the account of 
 the narrow 
 
 ESCAPE OF COLONEL JANSEN 
 
 from being taken by the same party who killed Mr. Mack and 
 his daugher. A desperate effort was made by Shanks Ben| and 
 others to take Col. Jansen and some other distinguished indi- 
 
 iNOTE— Shanks Ben was born and brought up in the vicinity of Col. Jan- 
 sen's place, and had before the war been in the employ of the latter on his 
 farm, and had often went hunting with the John Mance here described as be- 
 ing at this time about forty years of age, and on this occasion like the others 
 of his party, wore a coarse wagoner frock of a grayish color, with a red hand- 
 kerchief bound closely around his head. 
 
 viduals who lived in that vicinity. It is probable that a large 
 reward was placed on their heads by the British. That notor- 
 ious Indian as has since been ascertained had been lying for 
 whole days and nights in places of concealment waiting for an 
 opportunity to take those distinguished "sons of liberty." 
 Early one morning the Colonel went to his barn to see to his 
 stock and discovered Shanks Ben in the stable. He ran to the 
 house with all his might, and the Indian in close pursuit. The 
 black woman who was in the stable milking saw the race. She 
 said that the Indian came so close that he grasped after the skirts 
 of his coat, but he reached the house in safety, closed the door 
 and secured it. The Indian disappointed of his prey, and exas- 
 perated, seized a broad-ax which happened to lay near by, and be- 
 gan to cut the door. The Colonel then called to wife to his fetch 
 him his pistols, which he intended to fire through the door. The 
 Indian desisted and went to the kitchen where he and two Tor- 
 ies (who were recognized as such by the black woman, who ob- 
 served they had blue eyes and painted faces), helped themselves 
 to the best that the house could afford. Whilst the enemy was 
 thus engaged, a white girl, by the name of Goetches^ was ob- 
 
 §NOTE — Miss Hannah Goetches was a neice of Christopher Mance spoken 
 of in history as being aged eighteen, and possessed of handsome features, was 
 from New York city, where her parents resided. She had been on a visit of sev- 
 eral weeks at her uncle's, and had set out on her return, via Newburgh and 
 Peekskill, and soon arrived at the encampment of the American Army; but 
 the British being in possession of New York, refused a transport, and she was 
 compelled to return to the family of her uncle. Being of an active and indus- 
 
served by the black woman coming to the house. She made 
 signs to her to go back, but she misunderstood them, thinking 
 she meant her to come, which she did, when she was taken pris- 
 oner. The enemy took her a short distance, but she being un. 
 
 trious turn, and withall an excellent spinster, she employed herself in that 
 capacity, in the family of Col. Jansen, and as stated above, not understandin.u; 
 the signal, she walked leisurely into the kitchen, (having been over to her 
 uncle's where she had been visiting with her friend, Miss Elsie Mack). When 
 she became aware of her danger, her terror became extreme, she wrung her 
 hands in agony, and begged them to spare her, but her pleadings were in vain. 
 
 willing to go with them, they dragged her along for some time, 
 and then killed and scalped her. They took the two young ne- 
 groes of Col. Jansen's who were never heard of since (except by 
 Mance in the mountain as before stated). An alarm was given 
 at Col. Jansen's either by blowing a horn or firing a gun, and the 
 neighbors came to his relief, but the work of death was done, 
 and the enemy was beyond the reach of pursuit. 
 
^urninS of ^awarsing by the Indians. 
 
 From the History of Ulster County. 
 
 On that ever memorable Sabbath, the 12th of August, 17S1, 
 at the dawn of the morning, they arrived at the old stone fort at 
 Wawarsing, which was situated near the old church. Having 
 captured the spies,* no notice had been received at the 
 fort of their approach, and most of its occupants were yet 
 
 *As an alarm. 
 
 in their beds. Two men had gone out of the fort that morning, 
 Mr. Johannis Hornbeck and a colored man named Flink. Cath- 
 arine Vernooy was also about leaving the fort to go and milk, 
 when she saw the Indians coming. She returned to the fort, 
 closed the door, and called Chambers to assist her in getting the 
 huge brace against it. Chambers was stationed on the sentry- 
 box at the time, but being somewhat deranged, he did not fire 
 
Lis gun.* Fortunately, however, he sung out "vyand. vyand," 
 
 enemy, enemy. No sooner had the door been secured than the 
 
 Indians came against it witli all their might, in order to burst it 
 
 in. Had not the door been secured at that instant, the enemy 
 
 would inevitably have gained admittance to the fort, and the fate 
 
 of its inmates would have been sealed. 
 
 The negro, Flink, soon discovered the Indians approaching 
 
 the fort. He concealed himself until he saw they did not obtain 
 
 an entrance; then leaving his milk pail, he made his way with 
 
 *NOTE— It being the practice along tlie frontiers to l\eep out spies or scouts 
 on the side exposed to savage inroads, who were to patrol the woods and give 
 notice to the settlements in order that they might not be taken by surprise, 
 Philip Hine and Silas Bouck started on this migratory errand. When they 
 reached the Neversink River, twenty miles or more southwest of Napanoch, 
 they discovered a body of four or five hundred Indians and Tories evidently 
 bound on an expedition against some of the frontier settlements. The scouts 
 watched their progress secretly until certain that their place of destination 
 was Napanoch and Wawarsing; they then took a circuitous route and struck 
 the road far in advance of the point where they had seen the enemy, but the 
 Indians, discovering some foot marks where Hine and Bouck had crossed a 
 stream of water, runners were sent in pursuit who overtook them within half 
 an hour after the latter had entered the road. But there seems to have been 
 a providence in this apparent misfortune as it was the means of saving many 
 lives. The prisoners were required under pain of death to give a correct 
 account of the fortifications and other means of defense along the frontier. 
 Among other things they informed their captors that there was a cannon at 
 Capt. Sevier's in Napanoch. On account of this intelligence the enemy did 
 not carry out their instructions and commence their attack at that place. 
 Some of the Indians had probably witnessed the destructive power of grape 
 shot in the war of 1755, and had a wholesome fear of that engine of destruc- 
 tion. But they would not have been injured in this case, for the old cannon 
 lay on the woodpile without a carriage, and was useless for purposes of de- 
 fense. Nevertheless the dismantled field-piece intimidated an enemy five 
 hundred strong, and saved Napanoch from attack. 
 
 all possible speed to Napanoch, to apprise the people there of the 
 arrival of the enemy. 
 
 Mr. Hornbeck, the other individual who had left the fort, 
 was on his way to see his cornfield, and heard the alarm when 
 about a mile away. Being a large fleshy man, unable to travel 
 fast on foot, he caught a horse and rode with all speed to Roch- 
 ester. When he arrived there, so overcome was he by excite- 
 ment and fatigue, that he fell upon the floor as one dead. He 
 recovered sufficiently to be able to return home in the afternoon 
 in company with the troops that were sent in pursuit of the 
 Indians. 
 
 The stone fort at Wawarsing was now the scene of active 
 operations. The men leaped excitedly from their beds, and 
 without much regard to dress, seized their guns, which were 
 always at hand, and commenced the defence. John Griffin was 
 the first who fired, the shot bringing one of the Indians to the 
 ground. Another came to remove his fallen comrade, and just 
 as he stooped over, Cornelius Vernooy gave him a charge of 
 duckshot that he had intended for a wild duck that came to his 
 mill pond. The other savages buried them away, and it is 
 probable that both of them were killed. The Indians did not 
 fancy the reception they met with here, so they dispersed to 
 the more defenseless parts of the neighborhood, to plunder and 
 fire the buildings. 
 
 Peter Vernooy lived about one-fourth of a mile southeast 
 of the fort. The Indians made an attack upon his house, but 
 
were bravely repulsed by the garrison, which consisted of three 
 men. 
 
 On the first advance of the Indians, Vernooy shot one from 
 a window in the southeast side of the house. One of the men 
 went into the garret, and discovered some savages behind a 
 ledge of rocks to the northeast of the dwelling, watching for an 
 opportunity to fire when anyone came before the port-holes. 
 While he was preparing to shoot at them, he saw the flash of 
 their priming; he drew back his head suddenly, and a ball just 
 grazed his face. An old hat hanging up in the garret, which 
 the Indians supposed contained a man's head, was found to be 
 full of bullet holes. 
 
 The conduct of the women of this household was worthy 
 the daughters of liberty. It appears there were three; Mrs. 
 Peter Vernooy, and two of her relatives from Lackawack. One 
 of them loaded the guns for the men, while the others stood 
 with a.xes to guard the windows, which were fortified with 
 blocks of hard wood. 
 
 At Cornelius Bevier's, the enemy found none to oppose 
 them. They entered the house, built a fire on the floor with 
 some of the furniture, and then left the premises, taking along 
 a colored woman and two colored boys a short distance, until 
 they supposed the flames had obtained sufficient headway, when 
 they let them return home. The woman and boys went to 
 work and succeeded in saving the house. At no time did the 
 Indians appear to wish to kill the blacks. This was probably 
 
 because they were slaves, and no bounty was paid by the Brit- 
 ish for their scalps. The Indians regarded the negroes as be- 
 longing to a race inferior to themselves. 
 
 The next assault was made at Cornelius Depuy's where a 
 few neighbors were assembled, as the custom was, for mutual 
 safety and defense. The enemy advanced from the hills south- 
 east of the house. The person acting as commander of this lit- 
 tle garrison gave the order not to fire until the Indians came 
 quite near, but a lad of sixteen was too full of enthusiasm and 
 patriotic fire to await the word of command. He had his old 
 Holland gun well primed, which he leveled at one of the red- 
 skins and brought him to the ground at the first discharge. 
 The enemy thereupon fled. A few shots were sent after them, 
 with what effect is not known. 
 
 The enemy made their next attack at the stone house of 
 John Kettle; in the defence of which the noble conduct of Cap- 
 tain Gerard Hardenburgh is deserving of particular notice. At 
 the time of the alarm, Capt. Hardenburgh was at the house of 
 a relative one mile east of Kettle's with six of his men. Not- 
 withstanding the risk, he determined to go to the relief of his 
 countrymen. When he came in sight of Kettle's, he saw a 
 number of Indians in advance in the road. To offer battle with 
 his insignificant force in the open field would be an act of mad- 
 ness. There was no time to be lost however, and all depended 
 on the decision of the moment. His active and fertile mind in- 
 stantly devised a stratagem that suited his purpo.se to perfec- 
 
tion. He turned aside into the woods with his little band of 
 heroes, so that their number could not be observed by the 
 enemy, took off his hat and shouted with all his might and ad- 
 vanced toward Kettles house. The Indians did not know what 
 to make of this maneuvre. It might mean that a company of 
 Tories had come from Newtown to their assistance, and it 
 might mean that troops were marching up from Pine Bush to 
 the relief of the settlement ; the savages took the safe course 
 and skulked in every direction. This gave the captain time to 
 reach the house. At that moment the Indians, who had dis- 
 covered the ruse, poured a shower of bullets at them, but the 
 brave heroes escaped unhurt. The besieged broke holes 
 through the rear of the house with an axe, and also through the 
 roof for port holes, through which they poured an effective fire 
 upon their assailants. Hardenburgh found the house occupied 
 by three soldiers and a son of John Kettle. The Indians made 
 repeated assaults in force on this fortress, but were as often 
 driven back with loss. Thirteen of their number were left dead 
 on the field. John Kettle was at Kerhonkson at the time of the 
 attack. Jacobus Bruyn had removed with his family over the 
 Shawangunk mountain through fear of the Indians, and Kettle 
 had gone up to Bruyn's premises to see that all was Vi^ell. He 
 started to go to the fort at Pine Bush, but was met in the road 
 by an advance guard of the savages, and shot. His was not the 
 only scalp the Indians secured in this expedition. 
 
 While these events were transpiring at Wawarsing, the 
 
 forts at Napanoch and Pine Bush were the scenes of intense in- 
 terest and suspense. When the fireing ceased for a moment, 
 the affrighted inhabitants were ready to conclude that the 
 beleaguered garrison had been overpowered, and that the sav- 
 ages were engaged in mangling and scalping the bodies of their 
 friends and brethren. Then again would be heard the report 
 of one of the Holland guns, which could be plainly distinguish- 
 ed from the sharp crack of the light arms of the Indians, telling 
 that the patriots yet lived, and were making a heroic defence for 
 their homes. The rattle of musketry in the first attack on Wa- 
 warsing was heard at Pine Bush, and as it was unlawful to fire 
 a gun on the Sabbath except in self defence, or as an alarm, it 
 was known that the place was attacked. Alarm guns were im- 
 mediately fired at Pine Bush, Millhook, and so along the fron- 
 tier toward Kingston. 
 
 As already stated, the negro Flink escaped from the Wa- 
 warsing fort as the Indians attacked the place, and ran with all 
 speed to Napanoch. Capt. Pierson was in command at that 
 place, and although suffering from indisposition he left his bed, 
 stepped out in front of the fort and called for volunteers. He 
 said he did not want a man to go that would not face the enemy 
 and fight like a hero. He was solicited by the women and oth- 
 ers to remain for their protection, but he replied that he was 
 bound by his official oath to go where the enemy was. Conradt 
 Bevier, Jacobus DeWitt and some ten or twelve others tender- 
 ed their services, and the little band set forward. When they 
 
came to the school house, half a mile from the fort at Napa- 
 noch, they found it infiames; no doubt fired by the Indians. 
 They carried water in their hats and saved the building. They 
 then cautiously advanced over the low land until they came 
 in sight of Wawarsing. 
 
 At this time an Indian sentinel who had been stationed on 
 a hill to give notice of the arrival of reinforcements to the gar- 
 rison, fired ofT his gun, which caused the Indians to withdraw 
 farther from the fort. 
 
 Those within now made signals for Captain Pierson and his 
 men to approach and enter. To do this the relief party were 
 obliged to pass over an open space exposed to the shots of the 
 enemy, but the undertaking was accomplished in perfect safety. 
 
 Encouraged by this addition to their number, the besieged 
 came out and fought the Indians from behind trees, buildings, 
 and whatever objects afiforded protection after the Indian 
 fashion. 
 
 In the meantime the Indians entered the church and amus- 
 ed themselves by throwing their tomahawks at the numbers, 
 which, according to the custom of the times, were placed on 
 the panels of the pulpit to designate the psalm or hymn to be 
 sung. These figures served as targets to throw at. With such 
 force were the misstls sent that two or three tomahawks were 
 driven entirely through the panels. This injury was never re- 
 paired, but was suffered to remain as a memorial of the past. 
 Two Indians were standing in the church door and Wm. Bodly 
 
 and Conradt Bevier crept along the fence in the bushes to get a 
 shot at them. Bevier leveled his piece and pulled the trigger, 
 but it unfortunately snapped. The Indian looked around as 
 though he heard it. Bevier made a second attempt, and again 
 it snaped. Bodly then fired and both ran for the fort about 
 one-fourth of a mile away. The Indians sent some shots after 
 them, one of the balls cutting a limb from an apple tree under 
 which Bevier was passing. Bodly's shot struck in the door 
 post, just grazing the crown of the Indian's head 
 
 Long after the war a man by the name of DeAVitt was in the 
 western part of New York and spoke with the Indian who met 
 with so narrow an escape at the church door. The Indian on 
 learning that DeWitt was from Wawarsing, inquired if he knew 
 who it was that shot at him while standing in the church door. 
 DeWitt told him it was AVm. Bodly. The Indian answered: 
 "It was a good shot; if I ever meet that man I will treat him 
 well." This incident illustrates a trait in the character of a 
 "warrior." 
 
 Towards noon, when most of the Indians were in the lower 
 part of the town, Cornelius Bevier went to water his cattle, ac- 
 companied by Jacobus Dewitt. They had ascended the hill to- 
 ward the old burying-ground, when they discovered two In- 
 dians walking directly in front of them in Indian fire. Bevier 
 thought he could shoot them both at once, but just as he got 
 ready to fire, one of them stepped aside. He shot one of the In- 
 dians and then both men ran for the fort. In passing under an 
 
apple tree Dewitt stumbled and fell. Just at the instant a shot 
 from the surviving Indian passed over his head. Devvitt ever 
 afterward felt he owed his escape to an interposition of Provi- 
 dence. The Indian's body was subsequently found near the 
 place. He had put on new moccasins and other extra apparel 
 during the period intervening between the time of his receiving 
 the fatal wound and the motnent of his death, as though pre- 
 paring himself for the change to the happy hunting grounds. 
 
 The people at the fort saw an Indian going with a firebrand 
 to set fire to a dwelling house occupied by some of the Horn- 
 beck family. Benjamin Hornbeck loaded one of the long Hol- 
 land guns and tried the effect of a shot upon the miscreant. 
 The ball struck a stone on the hill, and bounded against the 
 Indian who immediately dropped the firebrand, gave a tremen- 
 dous leap, and ran like a deer for the woods. This single shot 
 was the means of saving that house from the general conflagra- 
 tion of that eventful day. 
 
 The neighborhood of Wawarsing on that Sabbath morn- 
 ing must have been a scene of sublime grandeur. Five or six 
 dwelling houses, seven barns, and one grist mill were all en- 
 veloped in flames ; no one being able to ofier any resistance to 
 their raging fury. The houses were stored with the products 
 o£ the industry of many years, consisting of the articles requis- 
 ite for the comforts and conveniences of civilized life, and the 
 barns had just been filled with a plenteous harvest. The In- 
 dians remained all that day in the vicinity pillaging the houses. 
 
 driving off the stock, and securing whatever plunder they 
 thought would be of any service to them. 
 
 The Indians took some ground plaster as far as Grahams- 
 viile, supposing it to be flour, and attempted to make bread of 
 it. At Esquire Hardenburgh's they fared sumptuously. They 
 took some huckleberry pies of which there was a goodly stock 
 on hand, and broke them up in tubs of milk, and then devoured 
 them. 
 
 Had not the Indians devoted so much of their attention to 
 plunder, they might have secured more scalps. Some of the 
 inhabitants who had concealed themselves in the bushes along 
 the fences met with narrow escapes when the Indians came to 
 drive the cattle from the fields. They threw little sticks and 
 stones to drive the animals away from their places of conceal- 
 ment. 
 
 When the Indians were preparing to leave the place a per- 
 sonage of no ordinary rank and pretention was seen emerging 
 from the woods in the highway near the old church. His ap- 
 pearance was truly imposing. He was mounted on a superb 
 horse that had been taken from Esquire Hardenburgh and was 
 arrayed in gorgeous apparel according to Indian notions. He 
 had silver bands about his arms and over forty silver broaches 
 were suspended about the person of his majesty. He was dis- 
 covered by some soldiers who were watching to get a parting 
 shot at the enemy as they were leaving the town, and one of 
 them named Mack fired on the chief. The latter was seen to 
 
reel in his saddle, but some other Indians turned his horse into 
 the woods and he was lost to view for a time. Afterwards Cor- 
 nelius found his corpse in the woods near the place where he 
 was shot, with the ornaments and trinkets still upon him. It 
 is probable that the loss of this chief did much to intimidate 
 the Indians and hasten their retreat. 
 
 In the course of Sunday afternoon Capt. Pawling came up 
 with some State troops from Hurley in time to relieve some of 
 the inhabitants. There was a cabin in the woods situated in 
 advance of the others, in which lived a man and his wife. At 
 the first appearance of the foe they fled into their castle and 
 gave battle to a party of savages who came up to attack them. 
 The house was well supplied with arms, and while his wife load- 
 ed the guns he poured such a destructive fire in the midst of his 
 foes, that they soon recoiled with loss. Baffled in their at- 
 tempts to force an entrance, they collected a heap of combusti- 
 bles and set fire to the premises. The savages then retired a 
 short distance to watch the result. The man ran out with a 
 couple of buckets, procured water, and with it extinguished the 
 flames. The Indians ran down upon him, but not being quick 
 enough to prevent his gaining the door, they hurled their toma- 
 hawks at his head, happily without effect. Pawling's force be- 
 ing augmented by Col. Cantine's troops of Rochester and those 
 of the garrison at Wawarsing, the little army amounted to 
 about four hundred men. They lodged at the Wawarsing stone 
 
 fort Sunday night, and early next morning set out in pursuit of 
 the enemy. 
 
 It would appear that these Indians were the Delawares, they 
 having driven the Iroquois to the northwestern part of the 
 state. 
 
 History says "our beautiful Indian names originated from 
 the Leni-Lenape or Delawares. viz: Wawayanda, Wyoming, 
 Mamakating, Moyamensing, Wawarsing, Osinsing, Mohunk, 
 Shawangunk. Cochecton and others." 
 
 They have been lost track of as a tribe, and "if living at all, 
 they will probably be found in the clans of the far west." 
 
 As to the Iroquois it might not be out of place to mention 
 clipping from New York Tribune April 4, 1902, on "Reservation 
 Lands:" "These Indiansof western New York have been peace- 
 able, and, in the main, orderly residents among the whites, 
 since the settlement of the region began a century ago. Many 
 of them fought bravely in the war for the preservation of the 
 Union, and they have good reason to claim fair and just treat- 
 ment at the hands of the whites. There is a strong feeling that 
 their rights should be safeguarded in every possible way. 
 These tribes, the Senecas, Tuscaroras, Onondagas, Mohawks, 
 Cayugas and Oneidas, comprised the si.x nations of the famous 
 Iroquois League. There are about six thousand of the Iroquois 
 
in New York State on the following reservations: Allegany 
 reservation area 44 square miles, Cattaraugus 4^ square miles. 
 The reservation lands are held in common by the "nation" or 
 tribe, but as a matter of practice rather than theory, the lands 
 are already to a large extent divided up among the individual 
 Indians. They hold their respective farms by titles good among 
 themselves, and sell or devise or purchase among themselves, but 
 cannot dispose of their land to the whites. There is a fund of 
 about $2,000,000 owed to these Indians by the United States, re- 
 sulting from the sale of Kansas lands formerly owned by them." 
 
 This would pleasantly remind us of the aged Sachem where 
 he said, 
 
 "The Father above saw fit to give 
 The white mau where to dwell; 
 The Spirit that gave the bird its nest, 
 Made me a home as well," 
 
 From our school books we learn that the Indian on his first 
 meeting the white man at the shore, was inclined to be friendly ; 
 not indifferent to a barter, was willing to sell land, or for that 
 matter to give. 
 
 As to an adjustment of trouble, on invitation of the whites, 
 those sons of the wood, would come out to meet them like men. 
 The dusky neighbor would eat salt at the white man's table, the 
 children would climb to his knee. Time, one of the war periods; 
 he true to his friendship, would tell the family to flee for their 
 
 lives. He forfeits his own to his tribe. Place, Moodany Creek; 
 what school boy does not know. 
 
 There were colonies of whites that intended well. Would first 
 stake off a tract of several thousand acres of laud, the boundaries 
 of which tlie native would thoroughly understand. They would 
 then ask him to name the price. "Five coats of duffel, six double- 
 hands full of powder, two sight guns, twenty fathoms of black and 
 white seewant, three blankets of duffel, five bars of lead." But no 
 rnatter how peaceful the outlook, or what allowance the early set- 
 tler might have made in order to keep peace with a savage among 
 whom no missionary had been sent, or how far civilization had 
 progressed in the one hundred and twenty-five years since the 
 Huguenots had first settled in the county, after getting up the val- 
 ley as far as Wawarsiug, aud making that a flourish-center of 
 trade, as it was, they were now to meet a new scene, the cause of 
 which lay beyond their possibility to avoid. A clipping from the 
 History of Ulster County, the instance in point, "Burning of \Va- 
 warsing." "This last attempt of the savages under the command 
 and by direction of British authority to exterminate the inhabitants 
 of this frontier, was the most extensive invasion since the com- 
 mencement of the war. This expedition was fitted out at one of the 
 northern British posts, aud put under the command of a white man 
 by the name of Caldwell, with explicit directions to commence his 
 assault at Captain Andrew Bevier's at Napanoch, and to kill or cap- 
 ture all the inhabitants, and destroy or carry off all the property 
 
 A I in 1 tz ^r\t\n 
 
AUG. 15 1902 
 
 AUG 1 5 1902 
 
 AUG. 26 19C', 
 
 along the Kingston road to the half-way house, twelve miles north- 
 east of Napanoch." (The detail has been given.) 
 
 The trouble arising was not so much between the honest 
 Pioneer and his Dusky Neighbor, as from the above sources, 
 and incorporated "Land Companies" and "Traders." 
 
 If history is to be believed, from which these pages are 
 taken, then down at old Esopus, we find the trouble not grow- 
 ing out of the maize fields being destroyed by the white man's 
 stock, nor from the pigs that were killed by the natives, but 
 from the liquor that the "Trader" had brought. Then came 
 the span of ninety years of peace, until the French and Indian 
 War. Then again until the breaking out of the Revolutionary 
 War. Dates of massacres were between 1776 and 1783. That 
 the Indians were incited by a more enlightened nation than 
 themselves has been noted. Ninety years was quite a while for 
 the whites and their red brethren to get along without having 
 difficulties. If such importance as to be noted in history, they 
 would hunt abroad in the same forests, fish on the same lakes, 
 and till contiguous corn or "maize-tields," while the smoke of 
 the wigwam and the log cabin curled peacefully through the 
 trees at home. But history does state that the Indian com- 
 plained that the "Trader" made him drunk, and cheated him on 
 his sale of furs, and took advantage on boundaries. His one 
 great fault, ("the ruthless tomahawk and scalping knife,") we 
 
 well knew. We assumed all risks when we did not turn back. 
 In view of facts, as then existed, and our surroundings to day 
 as to their faults, we can well afford "to forget them all and 
 put them away among us." But their beautiful names linger 
 still among our hills, through our valleys, o'er our lakes. 
 
 Who of us do not like to recall those pretty verses of Mrs. 
 Sigourney, where she writes in a seemingly tender vein; 
 
 Ye say they all have passed away. 
 
 That noble race and brave. 
 That their light canoes have vanished 
 
 From off the crested wave; 
 That 'mid the forests where they roamed, 
 
 There rings no hunter's shout, 
 But their name is on your waters. 
 
 Ye may not wash it out. 
 
 Ye say their cone-like cabins 
 
 That clustered o'er the vale, 
 Have fled away like withered leaves, 
 
 Belore the autumn gale. 
 But their memory liveth on your hills, 
 
 Theii baptism on your shore; 
 Your everlasting rivers speak 
 
 Their dialect of yore. 
 
 The old stone houses, pictures of which appear, are the 
 forts at Wawarsing, which sustained attacks by Indians during 
 the frontier wars, and are still standing. 
 
 524 
 
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