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THE INDIANS:
OR
OF
ON THE FRONTIER,
IN WAWASINK
DURING
THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.
INTERSPERSED WITH REFLECTIONS ON THE
WITH
AN APPENDIX,
CONTAINING
BRIEF NOTICES OF NATURAL CURIOSITIES
INTEREST IN WAWASINK.
BY A
DESCENDANT OF THE HUGUENOTS.
DESIGNED
TO COMMEMORATE THE NOBLE DEEDS OF OUR ANCESTORS,
"Closely allied to love of country is gratitude to its benefactors."
RONDOUT,
N. Y.:
FOR
1846.
Entered
according to Act of Congress, the 7th of July, in the year 1846,
BY JOHN
A. GRAY
In the
Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of
New‑York.
JOHN A. GRAY, PRINTER,
PREFACE.
IT is a common remark, that whatever relates to the early history of our country possesses a peculiar interest. The writer of the following narratives, having often listened with intense interest to the thrilling events which occurred on the frontiers of Wawasink, in times “which tried men’s souls,”—and, as Paulding adds in his Life of Washington, “their bodies too,”—and to the striking interpositions of Divine Providence, has thought that their publication would be interesting to the public—and especially to that portion who are descended from, or are connected with, the early settlers of Wawasink. But as the occurrences here were links in the great chain of events by which our national independence was achieved, we trust its perusal will be interesting to all.
It is hoped that the contemplation of those scenes through which our patriotic ancestors were called, in the providence of God, to pass, in order to secure the enjoyment of those precious rights and privileges which they esteemed of more value than life itself, will rekindle afresh the patriotic flame in the bosom of their sons, and nerve them to resist, with an unflinching arm, any attempt to prostrate or undermine our glorious national fabric, or any of our civil or religious rights and privileges, which cost them so mach blood and treasure, and which it is our solemn duty to transmit unimpaired to posterity.
It is
an interesting thought, and one intimately associated with the early settlement
and defence of our country, that the great and
paramount [p. iv] aim of the great mass of its early
settlers was, to secure for themselves and their descendants the inestimable
privilege of worshipping God according to the dictate of consciences
enlightened by his word. This was especially the case with the French Huguenots
and the Dissenters, or Puritans, of
Some of
the Huguenots who fled from
The
writer of the following narratives, being fully convinced of the truth of the
maxim laid down by the great father of his country, in his Inaugural Address of
1789, “That there is an indissoluble union in the economy and course of nature,
between virtue and happiness, between duty and advantage,” has made it a point
to notice the plans sentiments and practices of our devoted ancestors, and also
the signal interposition of Divine Providence, as brought to view in these
narratives. Many striking events have occurred, in the history of our country,
which teach us that important truth, that “God is in history,” and which we
think are sufficient to convince even the atheist, that there is a sovereign
Disposer of events, who presides over the destinies of men and nations. Witness, for example, the case of the immortal
We might also allude to
the wonderful escape of Colonel Morgan, in two instances, by means of the
sudden rising of a river, which averted his capture by General Cornwallis,
while marching with five hundred prisoners from
As
respects his materials for this little work, the author would say that he has
been mostly indebted to tradition. Something, however, has been obtained from
those who were actors in those scenes, and much from those who were then in
boyhood. Having lived for many years in the vicinity where most of the events
occurred, and having often heard them related by the old people, and having had
the spots pointed out where they transpired, the writer has enjoyed advantages
in this respect over many others, in getting the incidents correct. It is not
expected, however, that a work of this kind should be perfect. Notices of
errors, or any further interesting details, connected with these narratives,
will be thankfully received and acknowledged, and may be addressed to the
publisher. It has been the great aim of the author to present a plain statement
of facts, according to the best authenticated accounts which have fallen
within his [p. vi] reach—to applaud and commend the conduct of those who acted
well their part in the great drama through which they were called to pass—and
to exhibit the cowards and Tories, in all their naked deformity, to the derision
and contempt of the world, that others might be deterred from walking in their
steps.
The
author can most heartily subscribe to the suggestions contained in an article
published in the Christian Intelligencer of the 7th of September, 1844,
extracted from the Christian Parlor Magazine wherein the writer advocates the
propriety and utility of having a history of our country, “that would reveal
the beatings of the common heart in the cause of liberty—that would lead us
into the domestic circle,” and inform us of what passed there, in those days of
darkness, that tried men’s and women’s souls,
as well as those great achievements which decided the fate of armies in a day.
Such a history the author trusts he has been enabled to present of the town of
[pp. vii-viii]
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION, 9
NARRATIVE I.
Osterhout and Anderson taken Prisoners near Binghampton—
They kill the Indians and Escape—Strange Conduct of
NARRATIVE II.
Murder of Shurker and Miller—Baker taken Prisoner—Three
Barns and one House Burnt—Pursuit by Capt. Kortright—
Massacre of Lieut. John Graims, at Graimsville—Burial of
the
Dead, 20
NARRATIVE
Narrow Escape of Three School‑children from
the Indians, 25
NARRATIVE IV.
Massacre at
Fantinekill—Widow of Isaac Bevier and two Sons
killed—Magdalene taken Prisoner and Released—Michael
Socks’ whole family killed—Narrow Escape of Jesse Bevier
and
family—Wonderful Sagacity of a Dog—Bold and Heroic
Conduct of Lewis Bevier and Conradt
Bevier—Arrival of
Col. Cortland’s Regiment—Flight of the Women and Children
to
the Mountain—Laudable Conduct of Capt. Kortright, 26
NARRATIVE V.
Murder of John and Elsie
Mack, by the Indians, in the Shawangunk
Mountain—Narrow Escape of
John Mans and Col. Jansen, 38
NARRATIVE VI.
Burning of Wawasink—Murder of Kettle—Noble Conduct of
Captains Kortright, Hardenbergh and
Pierson—Capture of Hine
and Bouck—Their Sufferings
and Escape—End of the War, 42
Treatment of Tories after the War by the Whigs, 63
Treatment of the Tory Vanvleet,
of
Contest between the Tories and Republicans, at the first Training
after
the War, 65
APPENDIX—
Topatcoke, 67
The Honk Falls, 68
The
The Old Cannon, 73
Taxation of
INTRODUCTION.
WHEN this country was discovered by
Europeans, it was found to be inhabited by a brave and warlike people. Their
immense numbers, and the extent of their settlements, (which were found to be
co‑extensive with the bounds of the continent,) evince that they must
either have immigrated to this country in considerable numbers, or they must
have found their way to this continent at an early period, and spread by
natural increase. The latter would appear most probable. Their universal
acknowledgment of a “Great Spirit,” or Supreme Being, and their
comparative exemption from the degrading and abominable sin of idol worship,
would lead us to infer that they derived their origin from a people that had a knowledge of the true Jehovah—perhaps from the
patriarchs, as early as the time of Jacob. We read in Genesis, 48th chapter,
that Jacob, after blessing the sons of Joseph, prophesied that the “seed of
Ephraim should become a multitude of nations.” Perhaps this prediction has been
fulfilled in the American Indians, who are a multitude of distinct tribes, or
“nations,” having peculiarities common to all; which would lead us to suppose
that they all have one common origin. As respects the manner of their getting
across the ocean, the most credible supposition, [p. x] in the opinion of the
writer, is, that they have crossed from Asia at Bhering’s
Straits, which are said to be but forty miles wide, and might be crossed with
canoes; and besides that, it is sometimes frozen over. They may also have
crossed part of the way on the ice, and part of the way in a canoe. But all
attempts to arrive at certainty in this matter, have ever proved futile, and
probably will, to the end of time.
It does
not appear that the whites purchased the land of the Indians west of the
Shawangunk, as they did the Old Paltz patent. This
however, is not certain. Their settlements were scattered along the streams and
brooks, where they cultivated small patches of corn and some other vegetables,
on soil the easiest to be subdued; having, until the whites came amongst them,
no axes but those of stone, and no arms but bows and arrows, pointed with
flint, which are still found occasionally by the ploughman. Their principal
game was deer, which abounded in the boundless forests about them.
As the
pale‑faces encroached upon them, they removed farther into the
wilderness; but they carried on a traffic in furs, on their part, with the
whites, in exchange for blankets, trinkets, ammunition, and intoxicating
drinks, and were on amicable terms until the French war, when, it appears, that
one family was massacred at the county line, seven miles south of Naponoch. After that, it does not appear that any depredations
were committed on this frontier until the commencement of the Revolution. At
that time the British agents, taking advantage of their fondness of war, and of
their too just reason to complain of the encroachments of the whites, and also
of their cupidity, (by offering them a guinea for every white scalp they
obtained,) induced them to take part with them in an attempt to subdue the sons
of liberty. Had it not been for this [p. xi] disgraceful act of the British, of
forming a contract with savage tribes who could not be governed by the rules of
civilized warfare, the inhabitants of this frontier might have reposed in
security. But as it was, their lives were in constant jeopardy. At night they
assembled in stockade forts, or several families would assemble in a common
dwelling‑house, all of which, however, had their widows blockaded, and
double doors, sufficient to stop a bullet. Their arms, also, must always be at
hand. When they went to church, they carried their armor with them. When they
were ploughing in the field, it was necessary to have
a sentinel. Some removed their families across the mountain, into the towns of
Shawangunk and Paltz, for safety. The State usually
afforded some troops for the protection of the frontier; but they were often
inadequate to the exigencies of the times, and the inhabitants had to depend
mainly on their own resources for security and defence.
In consequence of this state of things, the soil was but partially cultivated;
whilst the price of all imported articles raised, and
the taxes of the people were increased enormously; and to this may be added the
depreciation of the continental money. Such were the burdens and privations in
the Revolution. But all this was borne with patience, on account of the love
they bore to the goddess of
Although
the Tories were not so numerous here, as in many other parts, still there were
enough to apprise the Indians when there was a favorable opportunity of
striking a blow on the whites, when there were but few troops on the line,
&c. The most bitter animosity, (as the reader will readily apprehend,)
existed between them and the Whigs; and when they fell into the power of the
latter, even after the close of the war, they were treated with every insult,
which justly, incurred enmity [p. xii] could devise, as will appear in the
sequel of this work.
It was
exceedingly difficult to convict them of Toryism,
unless taken in the act of open hostility. They would live on the frontier, be
much out in the woods, and communicate secretly with the Indians, and at the
same time profess allegiance to the whites. The strongest evidence against
them, in most cases, was, that their property was not
destroyed. When they went out with the Indians, they painted their faces, to
avoid detection; but they could not paint their eyes, by which they were
sometimes distinguished. In point of barbarity, they were even worse than the
Indians, as will appear from the following circumstance, which occurred along
the
The
Indians and Tories gained access to a dwelling, and they found an infant laying in a cradle. As the Indian approached the child with
his tomahawk, it smiled, and he shrunk back from the deed. Although he had,
doubtless, often plunged the fatal instrument of death into the bosom of
hardier foes, without compunction, the stout heart of the savage warrior gave
way before the penetrating smile of infant innocence: the infernal Tory then
advanced, and executed the fatal deed.
The
Indian settlements being far remote from the frontier, there was not much
danger from them in the winter season; but as soon as the strengthened rays of
the vernal sun had dissolved the snows on the sides of the western hills, they
had to be on their guard. For their better security, it was customary to have
out spies, or rangers, between the frontier and the settlements of the Indians,
to watch the movements of the enemy, and [p. xiii] give notice of their
approach; but in consequence of the subtle character of the enemy, but little
benefit was derived from this measure.
The
Indians have left an everlasting remembrance of themselves in the names which
they have given to places in this town; such as Wawasink,
Lackawack, Honkhill, Naponoch,
Sockanisank, {NOTE: The name of a spring in the
Shawangunk mountain} Tapatcoke, {NOTE: The name of a
lot of low‑land near Naponoch} Poyenhook, &c.
Although
our fathers were severely tried by privations and hardships, they were not
cast down. A kind providence gave them strength according to their day; and
their common afflictions only served to strengthen the bond of affection
between them. The following anecdotes will serve to show the good spirits of the
people, and also their readiness for mutual defence.
Two men
were ploughing on a farm, now owned by Mr. Simpson,
one mile south of Naponoch—a third man was stationed
as a sentinel, to watch the Indians. He became weary of watching, and strolled
off along the creek, amongst some trees; the ploughmen determined to put a
trick upon him, and at the same time punish him for his indolence. They seized
their guns, and fired over his head in the bushes. Not doubting that a host of
Indians were on hand, he laid his course for the Naponoch, and the ploughmen
in full pursuit. “The race went hot” for about a mile, when he came to the Naponoch Creek, into which he bounded like a deer closely
pursued by hounds. Here he found some soldiers bathing; but before he could communicate
the matter, the ploughmen came up and explained the riddle.
[p.
xiv] On another occasion, some neighbors and soldiers were assembled at Capt.
Andrew Bevier’s, at Naponoch, in the evening, and
they determined to put a trick upon Johannis Bevier,
who lived where the Female Seminary now stands; so they mounted the old cannon
on some kind of a carriage, loaded it, and drew it slily
immediately in front of Bevier’s house, in the street. One of the company went into the house, to prevent him from injuring
them, and to see how he would act. He was sitting by the fire, rather in a
sleepy mood. The moment the cannon was fired, he sprang up and seized his gun,
which lay over his head against the beam, and sprang to the window, ready to
pour the leaden death into his supposed adversaries, when his hand was stayed
by the man who had been sent in for that purpose.
NOTE.—A man by the name of Conradt Vernooy was shot by the Indians, in the French war, as he
was riding along the road near the house of John G. Hardenbergh,
Esq. He rode to the Esquire’s. On loosening his clothes, the blood gushed out,
and he died suddenly. He was an ancestor of Simon Vernooy, now living in the town of
THE INDIANS.
NARRATIVE I.
Osterhout and
Kill
the Indians and Escape—Strange Conduct of
IT is
the unanimous testimony of tradition, that the following events occurred a little before, or about the commencement of the
American Revolution—the precise date is not known.
There
was a widow lady living at Lackawack, about four miles from Naponoch,
who had lost her second husband. Her first husband’s name was Osterhout, and she had a son by the name of Jacob Osterhout. She kept a public house at that place; and it
appears that either Osterhout or Anderson had, on a
previous occasion, offended the Indians, by telling her not to let them have
any more liquor. The Indians were determined on revenge; and a favorable
opportunity occurring when George Anderson and Jacob Osterhout
were both at this tavern in the night, three Indians entered it, took them both
prisoners, and carried them off towards Binghampton,
in Broome county. It appears that whilst they were
securing the prisoners, the woman fled, with no other clothing about her than
her night clothes. She was out all night in the woods, and in a shower of rain.
The next day she came to Wawasink, and gave the
alarm. Whether the Indians were [p. 16] pursued or not, the writer has not been
able to ascertain—the probability is, that they were.
The
prisoners were taken to within thirteen miles of the place of destination,
where they effected their escape. George Anderson
could understand the Indian dialect, and on their last day’s march he gathered
from the conversation of the Indians that it was their design to scalp Osterhout, he being a weakly man, and not able to travel
fast. That said his scalp would fetch more than he would be worth alive.
“Hope, of all passions, most
befriends us here;
Passions of prouder name
befriend us less;
Joy has her tears, and
Transport has her death;
Hope, like a cordial, innocent,
though strong,
Man’s heart at once inspirits
and serenes.”
From
the part Osterhout had acted, and from the fact that
he was naturally a timid, weakly man,
After
suffering more than tongue can tell, or pen describe, they arrived at a house
on Honkhill, where Chester L. Dudley now lives, then
owned by a [p. 19] man named Timmerman. {NOTE:
This Timmerman was such a notorious old miser, and had such a faculty
for arousing the sympathies; that a brief notice of him, it is believed, will
be interesting to the reader. He owned a house and farm, and had one or more
boys to assist him in working it; but in preference to that, he went begging
all around the country, and in large towns and cities. He was a very pitiful
looking man, and could invent a most plaintive story: he also possessed the
uncommon faculty of crying whenever it would assist him in arousing the
sympathies of the people and accomplishing his ends. A more despicable
character can scarcely be imagined to exist in human form, than the above. He
carried the leg of an old stocking for his money-purse. When his old chimney
was torn down, a few years since, by John Christie, four or five hard dollars
were found between the stones.} This place was, or became soon after, the site
of a stockade fort, and was occupied by a garrison, as will appear in the next
narrative.
Osterhout and Anderson were so nearly
exhausted with hunger that it would have been death to them both, to have eaten
a full meal.
The
conduct of George Anderson after this time became surpassing strange, and we
can no longer contemplate him as the brave and undaunted hero. It was no doubt
the result of physical disease, caused by his extraordinary sufferings. He
appeared to be constantly in fear, and apprehensive of some imminent danger. He
left Wawasink and went across the Shawangunk Mountain,
and took up his abode in a cave, from which he would sally out in the night and
take things that were not his own, to satisfy his wants. He became [p. 20]
quite a pest to the people, but they forbore to arrest or punish him, from the
consideration of what he had suffered, and that it was supposed he was not in
his right mind. The last that the writer has been able to learn of him, he was
journeying towards the West. It has been intimated that the ground of his
mental distress was a guilty conscience, for having killed the Indians; but it
appears to the writer that he was justifiable, both in the sight of God and
man; and that his fears were the result of mental derangement.
NARRATIVE II.
and one
House Burnt—Pursuit by Capt. Kortrite—Massacre of
Lieut.
John Graims, at Graimsville—Burial
of the Dead.
THE
events of this narrative took place next in the order of time to the preceding
one, but the precise date, the writer has not been able to ascertain. It must
have been in the early part of the war; probably in ‘77 or ‘78. There were
three families living at that time in the vicinity of Pinebush,
in the town of
Capt. Kortrite pursued them until he came to the Vernooy Creek, when, his provisions being exhausted, [p.
22] he returned home to Pinebush. On their return,
they buried the unfortunate Shurker and Miller, who fell martyrs to the cause of liberty.
The
fate of Baker is wrapt in impenetrable mystery.
Nothing has ever been seen or heard of him. He was the stoutest man of the
three. It is not improbable that he was reserved by the Indians as the object
on which to wreak their vengeance for the three red men killed by
At the
time of this massacre, there was a body of two or three hundred troops laying at the Fort on Honkhill,
where C. L. Dudley now lives. On learning the facts above stated, it was
resolved by the officer in command, to fit out an expedition to waylay the
Indians on their return, at the Chestnut Woods, (now called Graimsville,)
in Sullivan county, about thirteen miles from Naponoch.
The officer called out for volunteers, when Lieut. John Graims,
or Grahams, stepped out. He was asked how many men he would have; to which he
replied, that he would take no more than “his
honor” gave him, which was eighteen privates, with one sergeant and
corporal. This, it appears, was called a Lieutenant’s guard. He was offered
more men, but refused to take them. In this he exhibited more valor, than prudence or skill in fighting Indians, as the
event will show.
[p. 23]
He marched on immediately, and reached Graimsville in
advance of the enemy. He selected his position at the foot of a steep hill.
They were all raw recruits from the old towns on the east side of the
Shawangunk, and knew nothing about Indian warfare—fit subjects to give the
Indians sport. Abraham Vancampen, the only good
marksman amongst them, Graims had imprudently sent a
hunting, to get them some fresh meat. Before he returned, the Indians came.
They had discovered the plot of the whites; and the skill and ingenuity
manifested in their attack, is seldom surpassed in the annals of warfare,
savage or civilized. One Indian only was sent forward on the regular path in
front of Graims’ garrison. All the rest had
approached undiscovered from the opposite side of the hill, and lay ready with
their fingers on the triggers of their guns to send the leaden death into the
bosoms of their unsuspecting foes. Mr. Graims had
just been very deliberately taking a drink from a crystal rivulet, which
flowed in gentle murmurs near his camp, harmonizing with the calm and quiet
frame of his mind, and as he rose from drinking, he saw an Indian in the path,
and directed his men to fire. A volley was discharged at him without effect. As
my informant says, “he jumped up sound.” Now was the time for the Indians on
the opposite side to perform their part in the game. The attention of the
whites was all directed to the one Indian, and their guns discharged. At their
first fire Graims fell, and most of his men. For the
remnant to protract the contest, under such circumstances, would have been the
height of folly. Two men, besides Vancampen, made
their escape to the fort, to tell the horrid tale. Never was a flock of
partridges more effectually and skilfully taken in a
fowler’s net, than were the [p. 24] inexperienced and unfortunate Lieut. John Graims and his unsuspecting guard.
The
greatest care should ever be exercised in selecting officers to conduct an expedition
against Indians, and none should ever be entrusted with that service who are not qualified by nature and a thorough knowledge of
Indian traits, and their peculiar modes of warfare. Every attempt that was made
in this quarter to surprise or intercept the Indians, failed of success. When
the Indians were strong enough, they would attack and defeat the whites. If too
weak, they would evade them, or retreat; and one might as well attempts to stem
the foaming current of
As soon
as the necessary preparations could be made, a force of three hundred men went
up to Graimsville to bury the dead. They found them
all scalped, and divested of every article that could be put to any use; but
their bodies were not mangled, as was frequently the case. They were buried in
several separate trenches in the place where they fell. The troops had considerable
sport with one of the men who escaped. In his haste, in jumping across a brook,
his bayonet had struck into the ground, and he had left his gun, not taking
time to pull it out. It was found to be loaded and all the cartridges were in
his cartridge‑box, so it was evident that he had not once fired his gun.
It may be proper here to observe that the place where Graims
fell, is called Graimsville, after his name, and
serves to commemorate that event. It was called the “Chestnut Woods” before.
[p. 25]
NARRATIVE
Narrow
Escape of Three School‑children from the Indians.
THE
following incident also occurred, it is believed, in the early part of the
American Revolution, and is treasured up in the minds of the descendants of
the subjects of this happy escape from savage barbarity, as a precious
reminiscence of the trials and dangers through which our fathers had to pass,
and of the goodness of that God whose direction and blessing they did not fail
to implore, in those “times of need.”
Three
children started from Jacob Bevier’s, who lived in Naponoch,
in the lane where Job Crum now lives, in the old stone house, to go to school
at Wawasink, near where Jacob S. Vanwagnen
now lives. One of those children was Jacob Bevier’s son, and father of Andries Bevier of Tuthilltown,
lately deceased. His name was Abram, and from his being a bright and shrewd
child, he had received the nickname of Lawyer‑um, by which he was
generally known amongst the old Dutch people. The
other two, it is believed, were his sisters. In those times there was a
footpath which left the road a little east of where Abm. G. Bevier now lives, and struck the road again
about half a mile further east. Soon after leaving this path Lawyer‑um
discovered two or three Indians sitting by the wayside, either engaged in
eating a piece, or mending their moccasons. He immediately
sung out “Indians,” but having been in the habit of making false alarms, in
order to frighten his schoolmates, was not heeded at first; but they soon
perceived [p. 26] by his countenance, which spoke a language not to be
misunderstood, that it was now in earnest. They dropped their dinner baskets
and ran for life. A little knoll intervening between them and the Indians, they
could not keep sight of them. The children took the footpath, and were happy in
reaching home in safety. The men then went after the Indians. They saw by their
tracks in the road where the footpath intersected it, that they had been at a
loss to ascertain which the children had taken, and whilst they dallied the
children got beyond their reach, and were happily restored to the bosom of
their parents and friends.
NARRATIVE
IV.
Massacre
at Fantinekill—Widow Isaac Bevier and two sons Killed—
Magdalene
taken Prisoner and Released—Michael Socks’ whole
family
Killed—Narrow Escape of Jesse Bevier and Family—Wonderful
Sagacity
of a Dog—Bold and Heroic Conduct of Louis Bevier
and Conradt Bevier—Arrival of Col. Cortland’s Regiment—
Flight
of the Women and Children to the Mountain—Laudable
Conduct
of Capt. Kortrite.
THE
following narrative is full of interesting incidents. It occurred in the midst
of a settlement of the descendants of the French Huguenots, and the
distinguishing traits of that people are brought to view in this narrative.
They were bold, persevering and resolute—were firm believers in the doctrine of
a particular providence, which
they did not forget to invoke in every time of need. The three families
mentioned above lived at the Fantinekill, near each other; about three quarters
of a mile northeast of Ellenville. It appears [p. 27] that the attack was
simultaneous on those three families; in fact, they lived so near each other
that the one could not be assaulted without alarming the other two. As usual,
the assault was made just at the dawn of day. It would appear to be
characteristic of the Indians, when they have the opportunity, to commence their
assaults at that time. It was the case at the burning of Wawasink,
in 1781. The crew of the ship “Tonquin,” belonging to
John Jacob Astor, were destroyed at the break of day by the Indians on the
In the
letter they invited the old Captain to dine with them the next day at
Lackawack. There was an allusion in it to the club—that so they meant to serve
him. On her return she recovered that invaluable treasure which she had
preserved from the flames—some of the leaves were soiled by the mud, but not
materially. It is [p. 29] still preserved as a precious relic in the family of
her connections.
Whether
the two boys perished in the flames, or were tomahawked, the writer has not
been able to learn. This widow Bevier had a daughter by the name of Catharine.
She had been lately married to Abm.
Jansen, whose father lived about four miles southwest of Fantinekill, and was
strongly suspected of being a Tory, and of assisting and communicating with the
Indians. The following are some of the circumstances
on which this suspicion rested. 1. His premises, although on the outposts, and
unguarded, were not molested. 2. The moccason tracks
of the Indians were seen about his premises. 3. His daughter, who was at a
neighbor’s house, was importuned to return home the night before Fantinekill
was burnt. 4. It was so managed that his daughter‑in‑law was at
that time on a visit to Jacob Bevier’s, at Naponoch.
By the death of his daughter-in‑law’s family, his son fell
heir to the estate at Fantinekill. * * * * If he was guilty of participation
in so foul a plot, he has had to account for it to Him who “judgeth
righteous judgment,” and who will bring every secret thing into judgment,
whether it be good or evil. May this reflection warn
us all to “beware of coveteousness; for a man’s life
consisteth not in the abundance of the things which
he possesses.”
The family of Michael Socks were all killed. As
none survived to tell the awful tale, no particulars can be given here.
There were a father, a mother, and two sons who were young men; and it is
believed that there were two other members in the family. {NOTE: Since writing
the above, I have learned from an unquestionable source that there were two
children in this family; so the whole number lost was eleven.} One young [p.
30] man, either a Socks or a Bevier, had run some distance from the house into
a piece of plowed ground, where 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 in his arms. A few days before this there had been a
training at Naponoch, and one of those boys boasted
that he was not afraid of the Indians. We may learn from this how vain it is to
put confidence in an arm of flesh, instead of the “mighty God of Jacob.”
At the
house of Jesse Bevier there were some “mighty men of valor,” and the enemy
accordingly met a warm reception. The first salute which the old man received
was, the blocks in the window were stove in, and two or three balls were fired
above his head, as he lay in the bed. He sprang from the bed and seized his
axe, with which he prevent 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 Beviers 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; thinking that common powder was good
enough to shoot Indians with. * * * They had their powder loose in basins on a
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 their guns to bear. Their
situation now became alarming in the [p. 31] extreme. Every drop of liquid in
the house was applied to retard the progress of the flames, by the women. They
took milk, and even swill, in their mouths, and spirted
it through the cracks of the logs, hoping in this way to protract their existence
until relief might come from Naponoch. At this awful
crisis, when death in its most awful form was staring them full in the face,
that pious mother, knowing that “with God all things are possible,” and that
man’s extremity is his opportunity, proposed that they should suspend
hostilities, and unite in petitions to the throne of grace for mercy. David
replied that “she must pray, and they would continue to fight.”—Although his
name was “David,” and he was “the son of Jesse,” he evidently possessed more of
the spirit of “Nimrod” than of
We
frequently meet with accounts in the public prints of the sagacity of dogs—some
indeed that are very remarkable—but it is believed that the following, taking
all the circumstances into consideration, is without a parallel in the history
of that animal. In the course of the morning, after the battle commenced at
Fantinekill, Jesse Bevier’s dog, without any sign or motion from his master, or
having been trained to any thing of the kind, came to Naponoch,
a distance of two miles, to the [p. 32] house of Lewis Bevier, his master’s
brother. He came to him and jumped up against his breast, and looked at him,
and then ran to the gate which led to his master’s looking back to see if he
was coming;—this he did several times. Lewis 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 arms and hastened to his neighbor’s, Johannis
Bevier’s, who lived where the Female Seminary now stands, and told him that his
brother’s dog had come to call him, and he would go to his 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 standing
by, a youth, by the name of Conradt, son of Johannis, whose patriotism and courage, kindled into a
lively flame by the pathetic address of his friend, rose
superior to all fear, and he determined to go with him. In addition to his
courage and martial skill, this youth was extremely fleet on foot, like Asahel of old, “he was light of foot as a wild roe.” He
boasted that no Indian could outrun him. Those two set out over the low‑lands
for Fantinekill. When they came near, the Indian sentry on the hill fired an
alarm. The Indians and Tories, not knowing how large a company was coming,
immediately withdrew from the house, and they rushed in. The flames at this
moment had 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 arms in their hands, to protect them.
Amongst the women who went to the spring was Jesse’s [p. 33] daughter Catharine, mother of Mrs. Daniel Hoornbeek, now living at Wawasink. Whilst at the spring she heard the groans of the dying in the swampy ground near by. Tories were also recognized, by their striped pantaloons, and also by the streaks which the Sweat made in their painted faces. The fire was happily extinguished, and this family saved from an awful catastrophe. Had not assistance arrived from Naponoch, precisely when it did, we cannot see how they could have escaped; and the writer thinks that he cannot justly incur the charge of fanaticism, in ascribing this wonderful deliverance to the direct interposition of divine providence, in their behalf, in answer to prayer. That God who commanded the ravens to feed the prophet Elijah at the brook Cherith, in a time of persecution and famine, and who caused the beasts to go into Noah’s ark—the clean beasts by sevens, and the unclean by twos—could, and doubtless did, direct that dog to do as above stated; and which resulted in their deliverance.
We must
now ask the attention of the reader to what transpired at Naponoch.
Col. Cortland’s regiment had been lying in the vicinity of Naponoch
for some time previous to this event, but their time of service had expired a
few days before 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 got into a frolic at a tavern in Wawasink, and were there on the morning of the alarm. They
were mustered with all possible speed, and when they came to Naponoch, were joined by Capt. Andries
Bevier’s company, and marched to the scene of action. When they came to the Naponoch Creek, the Indian yells and war‑whoops were
heard on the western hills, and the [p. 34] savages fired at them as they were
crossing the stream, and continued to fire on them from the woods, as they
passed on towards Fantinekill. Their fire was promptly returned by the
regiment. It is not known that any loss was sustained an either side, at this
stage of the action; but there is no doubt that Jesse 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 pursuit.—When the war‑whoop was heard on
the hills west of Naponoch, and the soldiers were
seen leaving the place to go to Fantinekill, the women, children and invalids,
made a precipitate flight to the Shawangunk Mountain, expecting that the
Indians would enter, and burn the place—which, indeed, they might have done
with ease, had they known the situation of it. Two sons of Andries
Bevier, lads of 12 or 14, ran across the mountain, through the burnt woods,
bare-footed, a distance of not less than five miles. The first came to the
residence of a Mr. Manse on the east side of the mountain; from thence they
made their way to the Shawangunk village, and gave the alarm. Their names were
Samuel and Cornelius. Several members of Jacob Bevier’s family also made their
way across the mountain; but some of the neighbors missed their way, got lost,
and were all night in the mountains, 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 which nature has provided there in
great abundance, especially along the sides of a noted ravine in the mountain,
opposite to Naponoch, commonly called “Louis’s
Ravine.” In their flight to the mountain they were joined by the young black,
(Robert,) who escaped from Fantinekill. In crossing the Rondout,
a child of [p. 35] 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 Naponoch was on fire. He heard the firing of
The
most solemn and affecting scene in this part of our narrative remains to be
told.
Mr.
Jacob Bevier, mentioned in the preceding narrative, lay sick, and unable to
move. All the family had fled across the mountain, except an insane brother, by
the name of Daniel, who was sitting on the fence, unconscious of his danger,
and a daughter, who had resolved not to leave her father. The father
expostulated with her; telling her that if the Indians came, she could not save
him—that they must both inevitably fall before the tomahawk and scalping‑knife.
But how could she leave a dear and tender father alone upon a sick bed, without
any one to smooth his pillow or administer to his necessities? Every feeling
of humanity and affection rose in opposition to the disinterested exhortations
of a tender father. Violent indeed must have been the struggle that agitated
the bosom of that daughter, and which could only find relief in a flood of
tears. No doubt her feelings were such as were expressed by Ruth to Naomi, on a
similar occasion—“Where thou lodgest I will lodge;
where thou diest I will die, and there will I be
buried.” At last, the sound seasonings of the father, seconded by that strong
innate principle implanted in the bosom of every human being by an [p. 36] all‑wise
Creator, which prompts us to efforts for self-preservation, prevailed, and she
made her way for old Shawangunk, through dense thickets and over awful
precipices, “where hills on hills, and
Andries Bevier’s black woman, “
We must
now notice the noble conduct of Capt. Coutrite on
this occasion. As soon as he heard of the affair at Fantinekill, he directed
his sergeant, (without waiting for orders from his superior officer,) to order
out all his company, (about 70,) to be at his house the next morning at
daylight, armed and equipped, with provisions for two days. The summons was
promptly obeyed. He stepped at the head of those “hearts of hickory,” into whom
he had, by his bold and soldier-like deportment and address, infused the same
spirit, and marched them up to Graimsville, a
distance of 18 or 20 miles, with a view of intercepting the Indians on their
return from Fantinekill. He selected a suitable place, arranged his men in
order, and awaited the arrival of the Indians. But, as usual, the Indians
discovered him first; and instead of coming on the usual route, they passed by
on his rear.
The
first salute he received, was a volley from the Indians; and one ball struck
within six inches of the old captain’s head; but they kept at a proper distance;
knowing they had a giant to grapple with. Not an [p. 37] Indian could be seen.
As my informant says, who was present at the time, “You can’t see an Indian in
the woods.” An incident occurred here, which gave the soldiers some sport. A
man by the name of Johannis Vernooy, affirmed that a
ball had touched him. The soldiers, thinking it only the result of his fears, sung out, “Where has it touched you, Honsum? Where has it touched you, Honsum?”
At last it was discovered that the strap which held the buckle to his knee,
was actually cut off by a bullet from the enemy.—The Indians soon made their
way off, filling the woods with their yells and war‑whoops, and the
whites returned home. Thus ended another fruitless attempt to
intercept the wily foe of the white.
The
writer has been credibly informed that six of the individuals who perished at
Fantinekill were buried in one grave, near the place where they lived and died.
If those six were all of the Sock’s family (which is believed to be the case,)
then there were nine who lost their lives at this time, of the whites. The loss
of the enemy is not known. The only house, which stood where the
In
concluding this narrative the writer would simply ask if it would not be an act
worthy of the “sons of noble sires,” who lost their lives in procuring for us
the inestimable boon of liberty, to
erect a marble slab, with some suitable inscription, to perpetuate their
memory? We ask not a monument like that on
NARRATIVE
V.
Murder
of John and Elsie Mack, by the Indians, in the Shawangunk
Mountain—Narrow
Escape of John Mans and Col. Jansen.
THE
writer is well aware that a detailed account of this massacre, and all the
circumstances connected with it, has long since been published, though he has
never been able to procure a copy of it; and knowing that a desire to see it in
print exists, especially amongst the connections of John Mack, the writer has
been induced to give a sketch of it in this place. He is indebted for the
materials to two individuals who had the statement direct from the lips of John
Mans, with whom they were both well acquainted.
Mr.
John Mack, mentioned above, lived in Wawasink; he had
a son‑in‑law named John Mans, who lived on the east side of the
Shawangunk. Sometime during the war he resolved to go over to visit his
daughter accompanied by another daughter, named Elsie. In the morning, as they
started, they called at Peter Vernooy’s. [p. 39]
Elsie, who was dressed in white, looked in the glass and observed, that she
“looked like a corpse.” This has always been considered very remarkable.
There was at this time a footpath crossing the mountain. It began on the west side, at a place called Port Hyxon, and ended at Col. Jansen’s afterwards General Jansen, west of the Shawangunk village. They crossed the mountain in safety, and made the contemplated visit. On their return his son‑in‑law accompanied him 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 Mans proposed to take his rifle with him, but his father warmly opposed it, saying it was not necessary. When they arrived at the top of the hill, where they were to separate, they dismounted, and the old man seated himself on a log and smoked his pipe. Whilst setting here, Mans discovered by the horses’ ears that they saw something, and looking round he discovered two men advancing in the path which they had just left, and another, whom he recognized as a notorious Indian, called Shanks Ben, taking a circuitous route through the woods, in order to get in advance, and so surround them. {NOTE: It may be proper here to state that John Mans and Shanks Ben had been well acquainted before the war;—had lived on terms of intimacy with each other—had often joined in the chase, for which both were famous, and also for running; but a quarrel about a dog, and the war, had broke up this intimacy, and they were now bitter enemies.} Mans understood his design, and was aware of the imminent danger that awaited him. It was then that he regretted bitterly that he had not taken his rifle. He said he might have shot the Indian, if he had had it. The other two were Tories. They had with them two young negroes which they had taken prisoners at Col. Jansen’s. Mans started with Elsie by the hand, in a direction so as to elude the design of his [p. 40] enemy. The old man, knowing it would be vain for him to attempt to flee, sat still, resigned to his awful fate. Mans ran with the girl until he came to a precipice of about twenty feet perpendicular, down which he jumped. Here he was obliged to leave the girl, notwithstanding her earnest entreaties to the contrary. 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 Indian could follow. In jumping down the precipice he sprained his ancle, 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. Jansen’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; but the fatal
blow was struck—the scalping‑knife and tomahawk had done their work—his
father‑in‑law and the blooming maiden were found side by side,
covered with purple gore, and their immortal spirits fled for ever.—The scene was solemn and affecting beyond description. It
was with difficulty, in after times, that Mans could be persuaded to relate
this melancholy tale; and he could never do it without shedding a flood of
tears; and the recital of which usually affected his auditors in the same way.
Hard indeed must be the heart of that man in whose eye the tear will not start
at scenes like this.
Intimately
connected with this narrative is the account of the narrow escape of Col.
Jansen from being taken by the same party who killed Mr. Mack and daughter.
A
desperate effort was made by Shanks Ben and others, to take
Col. Jansen, and some other distinguished [p. 41] individuals who lived in that
vicinity. It is probable that a large reward was placed on their heads by the
British. That notorious Indian, as has since been ascertained, had been laying
for whole days and nights in places of concealment, waiting for an opportunity
to take those distinguished “sons of liberty,” but a kind providence would not
permit him to accomplish his nefarious design.
Early one
morning the Colonel went to his barn, to see to his stock, and discovered
Shanks Ben in the stable. He ran for 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 exasperated,
seized an axe which happened to lay near by, and began to work his way through
the door, the Colonel then called to his wife to fetch him his pistols, which
he fired, or intended to fire through the door. The Indian however desisted,
and went into the kitchen, where he and the two Tories, (who were recognized as
such by the black woman, who observed that they had blue eyes and painted
faces,) helped themselves to the best that the house could afford, not
forgetting the cider, of which the Indians are excessively fond.
Whilst
the enemy were thus engaged, a white girl by the name
of Goetches was observed 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 prisoner. The
enemy took her a short distance; but she being unwilling to go with them, they
dragged her along for some time and then killed and scalped her. They took two
[p. 42] young negroes of Col. Jansen’s, who have never
been heard of since. They were seen by Mans in the mountain. An alarm was given
at Jansen’s, either by blowing a horn or firing a gun, and the neighbors come
to his relief; but, as usual, the work of death was done, and the enemy were beyond the reach of pursuit.
Such
are some of the miseries of war. May we, by contrast, learn to appreciate the
blessings of peace, and all those invaluable institutions for which our
venerable ancestors pledged their “lives, their fortunes, and their sacred
honor;” and which they so nobly won.
NARRATIVE
VI.
Burning of Wawasink—Murder of
Kettle—Noble Conduct of Captains
Kortrite, Hardenbergh and Pierson—Capture of Hine
and
Bouck—Their
Sufferings and Escape—End of the War.
THIS last attempt of the
savages, under the command and direction of British authority, to exterminate
the inhabitants of this frontier, occurred on
It will now be necessary
to give an account of the spits, or rangers, as they were sometimes called, who
were captured by the Indians; and of the intelligence given to the Indians by
the Tories, through which they were taken. As has been stated in the
Introduction, it was the practice to keep out spies in the direction from which
the enemy was expected, in order that they might not be taken by surprise. In
preparing for one of these “scouts,” Philip Hine had
occasion to purchase some meat of Jeremiah Kettle, who resided in the vicinity
of
The
prisoners were required, on pain of death, to give a correct account of the
fortifications, and other means of defence on the
frontier at Wawasink. They told them there was a
cannon at Capt. Bevier’s at Naponoch. On account of
this intelligence they did not commence their attack at that place, and
consequently much property, and perhaps precious lives, were saved. As those
Indians were part of the confederated Six Nations who took part in the French
and Indian war of 1755, it is probable that some of them at least had witnessed
the destructive power of grape‑shot and cannon balls; and also in the
expedition of Gen. Schuyler against them, in the war of 1776. But in this case
they would not have been injured, for the old cannon laid
on the wood pile without a carriage, and could have been of no use in defending
the fort, or the place. The fort also was unfinished.
The
prisoners were tied hand and foot, apart from each other. In this situation
they were compelled to [p. 45] remain for the most part of three days and
nights, without any thing to eat or drink, until the Indians returned.—Whoever
has experienced the sensation caused by holding the limbs in one position for a
length of time—and then add to that, hunger and thirst, fear from wild beasts,
and the well‑founded apprehension that the wives of their bosom, their
children, and all that were dear to them by the ties of nature and affection,
would in all probability fall a prey to the ruthless tomahawk and scalping‑knife—may
form some idea of their awful sufferings.
I
should be guilty of injustice to the memory of a noble and virtuous man, if I
omitted to relate the following circumstance, which occurred at this time. It
had been the intention of the Indians to dispatch one hundred of their troops,
under the command of Shanks Ben, across the forest, from the
After securing the
prisoners, and obtaining information from them, as above stated, they set
forward for Wawasink. On that ever memorable Sabbath,
The
Atheist and the Epicurean may attribute this narrow escape to the influence of
that imaginary being whom they call Fortune,
or Chance, but the Christian sees
and acknowledges in this the hand of an over-ruling providence, without whose
sovereign will and pleasure not so much as a sparrow can fall to the ground. It is due to the memory of our Huguenot
and Dutch ancestors to state that they have always acknowledged the hand of God
in this preservation, and given Him the glory.
The negro Flink soon discovered the
Indians approaching the fort, after he left it. He concealed himself until he
saw that they did not obtain an entrance into the fort, and then left his milk‑pail
and made his way with all possible speed to the fort at Naponoch, to [p. 47] inform
them of the arrival of the enemy. Mr. Hoornbeek, the
other individual who left the fort to see to his corn‑field, heard the
alarm when about a mile from the fort. Being a large fleshy man, and not able
to travel fast on foot, he succeeded in catching a horse owned by Mr. Bruyn, which he mounted, and made off to his father’s,
Benjamin Hoornbeek, who lived at Rochester, where Deyo now lives. When he came there, he was so completely
exhausted by excitement and fatigue, that he fell upon
the floor as dead, but recovered sufficiently to be able to return home in the
afternoon, in company with the troops who went in pursuit of the Indians.
The old
stone fort was now the scene of active operations. The men leaped from their
beds, and without much attention to dress, as the reader will readily imagine,
seized their guns, which were always at hand, and commenced their defence. John Griffin was the first who fired, and he
brought one of the sons of the forest to the ground. Another Indian came to
remove him from the ground, and just as he stooped to raise him up, Cornelius Vernooy gave him a charge of shot, having had his gun
loaded with shot to kill a duck which came in his mill‑pond. The other
Indians soon hurried them both away, and they were seen no more. It is probable
that they were both killed. Finding it “was vain to fight when lead was all
their booty,” the Indians dispersed through the neighborhood—some to plunder
and fire buildings, and others to attack other fortified posts.
At
Peter Vernooy’s, who lived about a quarter of a mile
southeast of the fort, they made an attack, but were bravely repulsed by the
little garrison, which consisted of but one efficient man, and two others who
were not able to afford much assistance. On the first [p. 48] 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 to try to get
a crack at them. He discovered some of them behind a ledge of rocks northeast
of the house, watching for an opportunity to fire, when any one came before the port‑holes.
Whilst he was preparing to fire at them, he saw the flash of their priming—he
drew back his head suddenly, and the ball just grazed his face. An old hat
which hung up in the garret had been mistaken for a man’s head and was full of
bullet‑holes.
The
conduct of the women at this place was worthy of the daughters of liberty, and deserves to be noticed. It appears there
were three in the house—Mrs. Peter Vernooy and two of
her connections from Lackawack. Some of them loaded the guns for the men (of
which it appears they had a double set) whilst others stood with axes,
determined to plunge them into their foes, if they should attempt to break
through the windows, which were fortified with blocks of oak, or other hard
wood. Mrs. V. had a family of small children at this time. Some of them were laying in the bunk, and became very uneasy at the unusual
proceedings about them, but the heroic matron addressed them in language so
decided and unequivocal as instantly to secure their quiet.
At
Cornelius Bevier’s, where E. Vernooy now lives, 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 it, taking with them a
colored woman and two deformed colored boys a short distance, when they let
them return home. The fire had progressed but little,
and they succeeded in putting it out.
It does
not appear that the Indians had any desire to kill the blacks—probably because
they were slaves, and [p. 49] no bounty was paid by the British for their
scalps. It is evident that the Indians used to regard the negroes
as a race of beings far inferior to themselves. They used to designate them by
an opprobrious epithet, which modesty forbids me to mention.
The
next assault was made at Cornelius Depuy’s, where a
few neighbors were assembled, as the custom was, for mutual safety, and defence. The enemy advanced from the hills southeast of
the house. The person who acted as commander of this little garrison ordered
them not to fire until they came quite near, but a lad of 16, named Garret Vanwagenen, full of enthusiasm and patriotic fire, could not wait for the word of command. He had his
old
The
next attack was at the stone house of John Kettle, where John Stall now lives.
It will
now be necessary to give a sketch of the noble conduct of Capt. J. L. Hardenbergh, on this occasion. He was at Esq. J. G. Hardenbergh’s at the time of the alarm, one mile east of
Kettle’s, with only six men with him—(some say but two.) He determined to go to
the relief of his countrymen, notwithstanding the imminent danger which he had
to face. When he came in sight of Kettle’s house, he saw a number of Indians in
advance, in the road. To attempt to fight them with so few men, without any
fortification, was vain, and there was no time to be lost‑all depended on
the decision of the moment. His vigorous and active mind furnished a stratagem
which answered his design to admiration. He turned aside into the woods, with
his little band of Spartan heroes, so that their numbers could not be perceived
[p. 50] by the enemy, took off his hat, huzzaed with all his might, and
advanced towards Kettle’s house, which was in the same direction as the
Indians. The enemy, supposing that a company of Tories were coming from
Newtown, or, what is more probable, that the troops were coming up from Pinebush, skulked off in every direction. This gave the captain
time to reach the house. Just as he reached the door, the Indians, discovering
the trick, poured a shower of bullets at him; which
struck against the door and sides of the building, but our heroes escaped
unhurt. They broke holes through the rear of the house, with an axe, which fortunately had remained in the house,
and also through the roof, for port‑holes, and then defended themselves
without much difficulty. Some Indians were killed here. The captain found the
house occupied by three soldiers, one of whom was Henry Kettle, son of John
Kettle, whom the Indians murdered.
The Indians proceeded as far as the Cohonkson, a small stream, about three and a half miles northeast of the old fort at Wawasink, near which they shot John Kettle, the father of Henry Kettle, above mentioned. Jocobus Bruyn had removed with his family over the mountain, for safety from the Indians, and it appears that Mr. Kettle had been about his premises, to see to some of his things, and was there at the time when the alarm occurred. He took a route over the fields to go to the fort at Pinebush, and struck the road near the Cohonkson, where he was shot. His was the only scalp which they took in this expedition.
While
the above mentioned events were transpiring the forts at Naponoch
and Pinebush were the scenes of intense interest and
suspense. When the firing ceased for a moment, they were ready to conclude that
the Indians had gained the ascendency, and that they
were [p. 51] engaged in scalping and mangling the dead bodies of their friends
and brethren. Then again they would hear the report of one of the old
There
was a Capt. Barnet from Little Britain, then in the service at Pinebush, under Col. Cantine.
Capt. Benjamin Kortrite, of
We must
now give an account of the proceedings at the fort at Naponoch,
where the widow of Conradt Bevier now lives. It has
already been stated that the negro Flink
escaped to this place, from whom they obtained some account of the number of
the enemy, &c. The conduct of Capt. Pierson on this occasion, is worthy of
particular notice. Although he had been “laboring under an indisposition for
some time when the alarm came at Naponoch, he left
his bed, took off his handkerchief from his head, stepped out in front of the
fort, and called out for volunteers. He said he did not [p. 53] want a man to
go that would not face the enemy, and fight like a hero. He was solicited by
the women, and others to remain for their protection, {NOTE: In the midst of
this deep suspense and alarm, when the enemy were hourly expected, a man by the
name of De Witt, very deliberately strapped his razor and commenced shaving!
He was asked by another “if he wanted to have a nice scalp for the Indians?”} but he replied that he was bound by his official oath, to go
where the enemy was, and go he would. [The reader will observe the contrast
between the conduct of this officer, and that of Col. Cantine,
in precisely similar circumstances.] Among the first who responded to this
call, were Conradt Bevier and Jacobus
De Witt—two of the bravest of the brave. Both had served in the regular army,
and were present at the surrender of Burgoyne. The writer regrets that he is
not able to ascertain, at this late day, the number who volunteered on this
occasion. It was probably not more than 12 or 13. A negro servant having a
particular attachment to C. Bevier, resolved that he would go with him, and die
in his defence, if circumstances should require it! This little band of veterans, resolving to live or die together,
set forward for the scene of action. When they came to the schoolhouse,
half a mile from the fort at Naponoch, they found it
on fire—no doubt fired by the Indians. They carried water in their hats, and
put it out. They then advanced cautiously over the lowland, until they came in
sight of the fort. About this time an Indian sentinel who had been stationed on
a hill, to give notice of the arrival of reinforcements at the fort, fired his
gun, which made the Indians withdraw farther from the fort. At this moment
those within the fort discovered Capt. Pierson and his volunteers, and made
signs for them to approach and enter, an undertaking which they effected with safety. Encouraged by this addition to their
force, [p. 54] the besieged men waxed bold, and went out of the fort, and
fought the Indians from behind trees, out‑buildings, &c. In the mean
time the Indians entered the church, and amused themselves by throwing their
tomahawks at the numbers, which, according to the custom of the times, were
placed on the panels of the pulpit, designating the psalm or hymn to be sung.
This served as a mark to throw at. Two or three gashes were made clear through
the pulpit, which was never repaired, but left as a memorial, like the gashes
in the door of Col. Jansen’s house in the town of
[p. 55]
A circumstance occurred, long after, which may be
interesting to the reader, as it shows a peculiar trait in the character of a
“warrior.” Long after the war, a brother of Jacobus
De Witt was in the western part of
Towards
An
Indian was seen from the fort, going with a firebrand to burn the house where
C. Hoornbeek now [p. 56] lives. Benjamin Hoornbeek, brother of Daniel, now living, having one of the
long
The old neighborhood of Wawasink, on the morning of that day, must have been the scene of sublime and awful grandeur. Five or six dwelling houses, seven barns, and one grist‑mill, were all enveloped in flames, which mounted up in curled columns to the clouds of heaven, sweeping all before them—no one being able to offer any resistance to their raging fury. The houses were stored with the products of the industry of many years; consisting of the articles requisite for the comforts and conveniences of civilized life; and the barns had just been filled with a plenteous harvest.
Such are the effects and consequences of war. May God save us from another scene like this.
About
Monday, the Indians left the town, heavily laden with spoils, consisting of
stock, bedding, wearing apparel, &c. They took some lime, or plaster,
supposing it to be flour, as far as Graimsville,
where they tried to make bread of it, and found out their mistake.
At
Esquire Hardenbergh’s, it is said, they fared
sumptuously. They took the whortleberry pie, of which there was
a good batch on hand, and broke it up in tubs of sweet milk, and then ate it.
The Esquire had barely time to escape with his family and two teams, which
carried them to Old Hurley.
Large
quantities of clothing were taken from this place, some of which was left by
the Indians when closely pursued, as the reader will see in the sequel. [p. 57]
The Indians were very intent on getting as much plunder as possible. Had they
not occupied so much of their time in this, they might probably have gotten
more scalps. Some individuals, who had concealed themselves in the brush, along
the fences, made narrow escapes, when the Indians came to drive the cattle from
the fields—some threw little sticks at the cattle, in order to turn them away
from the places where they were concealed. When the Indians were leaving the
place, a personage of no ordinary appearance and pretensions was seen emerging
from the woods into the highway near the old church. The sight was truly
imposing. He was mounted on a noble steed, which they had taken from Esq. H.’s, and was arrayed in gorgeous apparel, according to Indian
notions. He had silver bands about his arms—had on silver broaches; and a bunch
of some forty silver broaches hanging about his majesty’s person. He was
discovered by some soldiers who were constantly on the alert, watching for a
chance to get a crack at the enemy, as they were leaving the town. John Mack,
brother of Jesse Mack, levelled his rifle at him, and
fired. He was seen to sag over on his horse, but the other Indians soon turned the
horse into the woods, and for the present he disappeared. Some time afterward,
Cornelius Bevier found his corpse in the woods, near the place where he was
shot. His ornaments and trinkets were still about him. It is probable that the
loss of this chief did much to intimidate the Indians, and hasten their retreat
from the town.
In the course of the afternoon, Capt. Paulain, of the State troops, came up with his company from
Hurley, and was joined by Col. Cantine’s troops at
Rochester. Among the Captains were Barnet, J. L. Hardenbergh,
and Kortright. They lodged at the old stone fort on
Sunday night. Early on Monday morning, the [p. 58] 13th of August, they set out
in pursuit of the enemy. My informant, who was in the service at the time,
thinks that their whole force did not exceed 400 men, including those who went
from the fort at Wawasink.
I
should have stated before, that one of the British troops, a German, by the
name of Vrooman, deserted the Indians on Honkhill, and surrendered to the whites. He left his gun at
a distance, and thus approached, making signs of peace. Some of the soldiers
were indignant at him, and wished to kill him, but this would have been murder.
From this man, and from the spies, who both returned, much of the matter
embodied in this narrative has been obtained.
When
the troops came to Graimsville, they saw where the
Indians had lodged on Sunday night—where they had tried to make bread of lime,
&c. Towards night they got to Peenpeck,
along the
It is
said that the efficiency of the Indians was greatly impaired by eating soft
corn, raw, or but partially cooked, which they had taken from the corn‑fields
at Wawasink; that they were scant of food, and much
intimidated by the loss of their chief, as before intimated; but all this was
not known to the whites at the time. The squaws met them, on their return, with
parched corn.
The
commander, Colwell, being forsaken by his Indian guides, told Silas Bouck that if he would pilot him through to
His
brother prisoner, Silas Bouck, met with quite a
different fate. He was taken to
They
succeeded in raising up one of the boards of the
floor, and dug a hole under the side of the building, with the help of an old
knife which they found in the building. In the day time they lay still and
peaceable—at night they dug, carefully concealing the dirt under the floor, and
replacing the board before morning. Having some reason to apprehend that the
time of their execution was at hand, and a dark night coming, they made their
exit through the subterraneous passage, and entered the St. Lawrence. Bouck was ahead. They had not gone far, before one cried
out, in anguish, that he was sinking; but no assistance could be afforded—each
had work for himself. When nearing the opposite shore, the same cry was heard
from the other. Bouck was growing very weak as he
advanced towards the shore. He thought perhaps he might reach the bottom, but
was afraid to try. At last he attempted and found it, and soon after reaching
the beach, he made his way into the wilderness, not knowing where he was going.
At length morning came, the sun rose, and by the assistance of that celestial
luminary, he was enabled to direct his course with more certainty. Never were
his benignant rays more welcome to a traveller, than
on this occasion. But hunger soon began to torture his already emaciated frame;
and then it was that He who “hears the ravens when they cry,” and who “satisfies
the desire of every living thing,” interposed in his [p. 61] behalf. He saw a
rattle‑snake in his path. Fortunately he had preserved his jack‑knife,
with which be cut a crotched stick and put it over his neck, and then cut off
his head. This snake he dressed and ate, raw. But this did not last long, and
hunger again began to pinch him hard. In this extremity he came in sight of a
small house. He watched it closely, and discovered that its occupants consisted
of a man and woman only. He resolved to wait until the man should leave the
house, when he would rush in, kill the woman, get provisions, and then be off.
He had not waited long before the husband left the house and went off in an
opposite direction. He then went to the house. The moment he entered the door,
the woman screamed out, “you are a deserter!” There
lay some bread and meat on the table, which she told him to take, and be off,
or he was a dead man. She told him that there was a large body of Indians near
by, and that her husband was gone to them. He took the bread, and hastened into
the woods, where seeing a hollow tree lying down, he crawled into it,—a hole
towards the top serving for air and light. He had been here but a short time,
when he heard the Indians traversing the forest in search of him. In the night
he came out and resumed his journey; and after enduring a degree of suffering
seldom equalled, he arrived at Catskill, along the
The freemen of
On the
return of the Indians to
Thus ended the depredations of the Indians on this frontier.
[p. 63]
HISTORICAL NOTES.
NO. I.
TREATMENT OF TORIES AFTER THE WAR, BY THE WHIGS.
IT has
already been stated in the Introduction that the most bitter
animosity existed between the Tories and the “sons of liberty,” as those were
called who were in favor of the “Revolution,”—the long and patriotic struggle
for achieving political independence of
The
following events occurred probably in ‘82 or ‘3, before the treaty of peace was
ratified between the two nations.
A notorious
Tory, by the name of Joe Westbrook, on his way home from the war to Minisink, where his father [p. 64] John Westbrook lived,
called at Andries {NOTE: The names Andrew and Andries, as used in this publication, denote the same
individual. This is true also of the names Kortrite, Kortright, and Coutrite.}
Bevier’s at Naponoch, and made some inquiries as if
he were a stranger. It has been well observed, “that
there would be little chance for detecting hypocrisy, were it not always
addicted to overact its part;” and a few warm‑hearted patriots made
suitable preparations, and embarked in a wagon in time to reach Minisink early in the evening. They looked through the
window, and saw the old man and his son Joe sitting at the fire, much engaged
in conversation. It was supposed that Joe was telling of his exploits in the
war. They surrounded the house, and Jacobus Chambers,
a brave and hardy veteran, went in. Joe went into an adjoining room the moment
he heard the tap at the door. The old man was asked where his son Joe was, to
which the old hypocrite replied with an interjection, that “he had not seen his
son since the war.” Chambers told him if he would give him a candle, he would
show him his son. He said he had no candle. Chambers swore he did not want his
candle, for he had one in his pocket, which he then lit, and went to the door.
The old Tory then sung out in Dutch, “
NO. II.
TREATMENT
OF THE TORY VANVLEET, OF
This
Tory, it is said, lived back of
NO.
CONTEST
BETWEEN THE TORIES
THE FIRST TRAINING AFTER THE WAR.
THE following affray will show the bitter
feelings which were still cherished by the Tories and Republicans [p. 66]
against each other after the war. At the militia training in
This
state of feeling gradually wore away, but the old people were accustomed, long
after, to look with suspicion on all who bore the name of men who had been
Tories in the War, and even at the present day there are old people in whose
breasts such prejudices exist. This may be natural, but it is decidedly wrong.
It is a principle both of divine and human law, “that the son shall not bear
the iniquity of the father; neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the
son,” “but whosoever doeth righteously shall be accepted.” Ezek.
ch. xviii.
[p. 67]
APPENDIX.
TOPATCOKE.
THIS,
as before observed, is the Indian name of a remarkable spring in the Shawangunk
mountain, about one mile from its base. It is situated
in a small gully or hollow, which extends along the mountain towards the
southwest, a few rods southwest of the great ravine before mentioned, called
Louis’s Ravine, or Gully. It contains excellent water, and is remarkable
because it boils up but does not run over. This is said to be the signification
of the Indian word Topatcoke. It is one of the
boundaries of the Patent purchased by Joachim Staats,
and is referred to by many of the old deeds and writings. It undoubtedly has a
subterraneous outlet. There is a little rivulet which heads in the gully some
distance southwest of the spring. About a mile south of Topatcoke
is the famous
WHICH
contains abundance of ice at all seasons of the year. The
mountain in that vicinity abounds in awful chasms, which appear to have been
caused by some convulsion of nature; but of which there is no account, verbal
or written. Some of those chasms are so narrow that a man can step over them;
others are [p. 68] from 8 to 12 feet wide, and extend about half a mile up and
down the mountain. In some places there are winding paths, by which one can
descend into those caverns, under the projecting rocks, where there are
perpetually large masses of ice. It is a place of much resort, as a natural
curiosity, and as a repository of ice in the warm season. In some places the
chasms are probably 200 feet deep, although not more than 3 or 4 feet wide.
THE
HONK FALLS.
The
scenery around is of the most romantic kind. The craggy rocks on each side of
the stream extend to a very great height, and those along the bed of the stream
are wrought into every imaginable variety of shapes and forms, by the action of
the water, assisted by loose stones or gravel, which in working or whirling
round by the action of the water, have, in some places, worn deep cavities into
the solid rock, which are truly remarkable. In one place there is a species of
stone or rock resembling a honey‑comb. In the middle of the stream, at
the top of the Falls, there is a rocky promontory,
which divides it into two parts, and extends for some distance up the stream. A
rainbow can always be seen when the sun shines at these Falls.
It is also one of the great original landmarks, and one which “neighbors will
not” easily “move.”
[p. 69]
THE
THIS
old edifice was erected about one hundred years since, by the first settlers, who
were mostly from
First
of all we are instinctively led to inquire, what was the motive in erecting
this edifice? It was no small work to be done by so few—(tradition says that it
was built by twelve or thirteen individuals.) It was the same that animated the
heart of David, when he said to Nathan the prophet—“I dwell in a house of
cedars, whilst the ark of God remaineth between
curtains.” It was erected for the sole purpose of worshipping and honoring the
great Jehovah. It was the fruit, or effect, of that same principle of love
to God which constrained them to resist all the efforts which were made by
the Pope of Rome and his emissaries to compel them to bow down and worship the
Beast with seven heads and ten horns, “whose name is Blasphemy.” It is
to that divine principle implanted in the heart of man, through the word and
spirit of God, that we are indebted for all our civil and religious rights and
privileges, by which we are elevated above every other nation on the face of
the globe.
Another
reflection is, the solemn exercises that have been
conducted there. There the faithful servants of God have stood up, as it were
between the living and the dead, warning sinners to repent and flee from the
wrath to come‑there saints have had their times of refreshing from the
presence of the Lord—have had fresh supplies of grace, enabling them to run the
Christian race—there they have united in commemorating a Saviour’s
dying love,—there have been poured forth the sweet and melodious songs of Zion.
Never can the [p. 71] writer forget those “old familiar tunes” which he has
heard within those sacred walls, or the solemn prayers
and exhortations that have been offered there.
While to some those solemn exercises have proved a savor of life unto life, to others they have proved a savor of death. To some the preacher has been “as the voice of one that could play well on an instrument;” his words only reached the ear, while their thoughts were about their farms, or merchandise, or roving with the eyes of the fool, to the ends of the earth. It is a solemn reflection, that however those means of grace have been received, they have now ceased forever; as far as this place of worship is concerned the “die is cast”—so far as respects the privilege of the means of grace there, the vision is “sealed up,” for those who enjoyed them, as effectually as if an angel had already set one foot on the sea and the other on the land, and sworn by Him that sitteth on the throne, that time should be no longer.
But
there is another consideration—the influence exerted there will not cease until
the end of time; and hence the propriety and justice of the great God, in
fixing the judgment after that period. The apostle, speaking of one who had
departed this life, says, “he being dead yet speaketh.” Thus the influence of the writings and lives of
those who have been connected in that place will continue to flow on,
augmenting in its course, from generation to generation, until the end of time.
On the other hand, the evil consequences resulting from the disobedience of
others to the commands of God, will continue to the
same period. We need no better illustration of this point than that which we
have in the history of the churches in our own land, blow clearly are the
lineaments of that little band of Puritans, who embarked in the Mayflower, in
1620, and [p. 72] landed at Plymouth, seen, after the lapse of 226 years, in
the evangelical churches of New England. That stern and rigid piety—that
inflexible adherence to all the laws and ordinances of God, which characterized
that little company, has been impressed upon each succeeding generation, until
the present time, and been incorporated into all their institutions. But how
greatly have their numbers increased, as the stream of time rolls on; and who
can calculate the influence on the immortal destinies of man, which had its
origin in that little band of Dissenters, and which will continue to flow on,
augmenting in its course after the manner of geometrical progression, until the
end of the world?
The
same observations will apply to the Reformed Dutch Church,
and others in our own land.
Such
are some of the reflections which have often occurred to the writer, on passing
the uncovered walls of the old church at Wawasink.
Never, while the purple current courses its way through my veins, will I
forget that sacred spot. {NOTE: The writer does not wish to be understood as
attaching any superstitious idea of sanctity to any spot or article,
such as Romanists attach to certain places and things; but as being sacred only
on account of the solemn exercises attended to there, and the hallowed
reminiscences associated with them, in the same sense as the ground where Moses
stood when he saw the burning bush was “holy ground.”}
It was contemplated to remove the old pulpit (which tradition affirms was brought from Holland,) to the basement of the new church at Naponoch, that it might be preserved as a precious relic of our ancestors, and that we might point the rising generation to the marks of the Indian tomahawk in its side, which, like the twelve stones which Joshua caused to be set up in Jordan, to show where they lodged the first night after crossing, might serve to remind them of the great mercy [p. 73] and goodness of God in delivering us from all our enemies and giving us peace through our borders. But while we slept it fell before the devouring element. The writer hopes by this notice in some degree to accomplish the object so unhappily defeated.
THE OLD
CANNON.
THE
reader will perhaps smile at my making this the subject of a notice. But to one
acquainted with its history, it gives rise to some interesting reflections
calculated to arouse a feeling of patriotism and gratitude, entitling it to a
notice in the history of this neighborhood. It was obtained from the State
Arsenal, for the defence of the frontier. In 1781,
when the Indians burnt Wawasink, it was made the
means, in a remarkable manner, of deterring the Indians from commencing
hostilities at Naponoch, according to the design of
the enemy; and so, in all probability, much property and many lives were saved.
It has been used ever since on the anniversary day of our National
Independence, and on other festival occasions. Many an aged patriot will
recollect the jovial times which he used to have on the hill at Capt. Simon
Bevier’s, in marching round the liberty‑pole, while the “star‑spangled
banner” was floating to the breeze, and the loud roar of the nine‑pounder reverberated along the Shawangunk, and at
intervals, the old “Taxation,” {NOTE: As copies of that old song are rather
scarce at the present day, and believing it to be admirably calculated to
arouse and inspire patriotic feelings, I will here insert it.} or some other
patriotic song was sung; bringing vividly to mind the great events in the
history of our country, and the noble deeds of our venerable sires in the
cause of liberty.
[p. 74] But in the “midst of this laudable emotion,” this “feast of
reason and flow of soul,” there was one thing to be regretted. A
canker was at work at the very vitals of our republic, in whose prosperity they
were rejoicing; and they were not aware of it. Men were not contented with the
spirits that flowed from prosperity and health, alone—the intoxicating bowl
was freely passed around, and many a giant intellect fell
a victim to its bewitching influence, and their mortal remains now fill a
drunkard’s grave. Blessed be God, that the eyes of this nation have been opened
to see its danger, and that so much success has attended the efforts to expel
this fell monster from the land. Had it not been for the glorious temperance
reformation, our noble republic might now have lain by the side of the ancient
republics of Greece and Rome, buried in undistinguishable ruin; for it is a
settled principle, that a nation of
drunkards are incapable of self‑government.
[p. 75]
TAXATION
OF
WHILE I relate my story, Americans give ear;
Of
I’ll give you a true relation,
attend to what I say,
Concerning
the taxation of
O the cruel lords of
The projects they have lit on
they joyfully proclaim;
‘Tis
what they’re striving after, our rights to take away,
And rob us of our charter in
There are two mighty speakers,
who rule in Parliament,
Who always have been seeking
some mischief to invent,
‘Twas
North, and
A
mighty tax to gather in
He searched the gloomy regions
of the infernal pit,
To find among those legions one
who excell’d in wit,
To ask of him assistance, or
tell them how they may,
Subdue without resistance this
Old Satan, the arch traitor,
resolved a voyage to take,
Who rules sole navigator on the
burning lake;
For the Britannic ocean he
launches far away,
To land he had no notion, in
He takes his seat in
Great George’s throne to sit
on, and rule the Parliament,
His comrades were pursuing a
diabolic way,
For to
complete the ruin of
He tried the art of magic to
bring his schemes about,
At length the gloomy project he
artfully found out;
The plan was indulged, in a
clandestine way,
But lately was divulged in
[p. 76]
These subtle arch contrivers
addressed the British court,
All those were undersigners, for to observe report—
There is a pleasant landscape
that lieth far away,
Beyond
the wide
There is
a wealthy people, who sojourn in that land,
Their churches all with
steeples most delicately stand;
Their houses, like the lilies,
are painted red and gay;
They flourish like the gallies in
Their land with milk and honey,
continually doth flow,
The want for food and money
they seldom ever know
They heap up gold and silver,
they have no debts to pay,
They spend their time in
pleasure in
On turkeys, fowls and fishes,
most frequently they dine,
With gold and silver dishes,
their tables always shine,
They crown their feasts with butter, they eat, and rise to play,
In silks their ladies flutter
in
With gold and silver laces, they
do themselves adorn,
The rubies deck their faces,
refulgent as the morn!
Wine sparkles in their glasses, they spend their happy days,
In merriment and dances in
Let not our suit offend you,
when we address your throne,
O king, this wealthy country
and subjects are your own,
And you their rightful
sovereign, they truly must obey,
You have a right to govern them
in
O king, you’ve heard the sequel
of what we now subscribe,
Is it not just and equal to tax
this wealthy tribe?
The question being asked, his
majesty did say,
My subjects shall be taxed in
Invested with a warrant, my
publicans shall go,
The tenth of all their current
they surely shall bestow;
If they indulge rebellion, or
from our projects stray,
I’ll send my whole batallion to
[p. 77]
I’ll rally all my forces by
water and by land,
My light dragoons and horses
shall go at my command;
I’ll burn both town and city,
with smoke becloud the day,
I’ll show no human pity for
Go on, my hearty soldiers, you
need now fear no ill—
There’s Harly,
Hills, and Roger’s, and Johnson will fulfil—
They tell such ample stories,
believe them sure we may,
That
half of them are Tories in
My gallant ships are ready to
hoist you o’er the flood,
And in my cause be steady,
which is supremely good;
Go ravage, steal and plunder,
and you shall have the prey;
They quickly will knock under
in
The laws I have enacted, I
never will revoke,
Although they are neglected, my
fury to provoke,
I will forbear to flatter, I’ll
rule with mighty sway;
I’ll take away the charter from
O George! you
are distracted, by sad experience find;
The laws you have enacted are
of the blackest kind,
I’ll make a short disgression, and tell you by the way,
We fear not your oppression in
Our fathers were distressed,
while in their native land;
By tyrants were oppressed, as I
do understand;
For freedom and religion they
were resolved to stray,
And trace the desert regions of
Heaven was their sole protector
while on the roving tide,
Kind fortune their director,
and providence their guide,
If I am not mistaken, about the
first of May,
This voyage was undertaken for
To sail they were commanded,
about the hour of
At
The savages were nettled, with
fear they fled away,
And peaceably they settled in
[p. 78]
We are their bold descendants,
for liberty we’ll fight,
The Game of independence we
challenge as our right,
What heaven has freely given,
no one can take away,
Kind heaven, too, will save us
in
We never will knock under, O
George, we do not fear
The rattling of your thunder,
nor lightning of your spear;
Tho’
rebels you declare us, we’re strangers to dismay;
You cannot therefore scare us
in
To what you have commanded, we
never will consent;
Although your troops are landed
upon the continent;
We’ll take our swords and
muskets, and march in bright array,
And drive the British rustics
from
We have a bold commander, who
fears not sword nor gun;
The second Alexander, his name
is
His men are all collected, and
ready for the fray,
To fight they were directed for
We have Green, Gates and
Putnam, to manage in the field,
A gallant train of footmen, who
had rather die than yield;
A stately troop of horses train’d in a martial way,
For
augmenting our forces in
Proud George you are engaged
all in a dirty cause,
A cruel war hath raged
repugnant to all laws,
Go tell the savage nation
you’re crueller than they,
To
fight your own relations in
Ten millions you’ve expended, and twice ten millions more;
Our riches you intended should
pay the mighty score;
Who now will stand your
sponsors, your charges to defray?
For sure you cannot conquer
this
I’ll tell you George, in metre, if you attend awhile,
We forced your own St. Peter at
Sullivan’s fair isle;
At Monmouth too we gained the
honor of the day—
The victory obtained in
[p. 79]
Surely we were your betters
hard by the
We laid him fast in fetters,
whose name was called Burgoyne,
We made your horse to tremble
with terror and dismay,
The heroes we resemble in
Confusion to the Tories, that
black infernal name,
In which
We’ll send each foul revolter to smutty
Or noose them in a halter in
A health to our brave footmen,
who handle sword and gun,
To Green, Gates and Putnam, and
conquering
Their names be wrote in letters
which never shall decay,
While sun and moon cloth
glitter in
Success unto our allies, in
Who man their ships and
gullies, our freedom to maintain,
May they subdue the rangers of
boasting Britannia,
And drive them from their
anchors in
Success unto our Congress of
the
Who glory in the conquest of
Washington and Gates—
To all, both land and seamen,
who glory in the day
When we shall all be freemen in
Success to the legislation that
rules with gentle hand,
To trade and navigation, by
water and by land;
May all with one opinion our
wholesome laws obey,
Throughout
this whole dominion in
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