USA > New York > Ulster County > Kingston > History and legend, fact, fancy and romance of the Old Mine Road, Kingston, N.Y., to the mine holes of Pahaquarry > Part 3
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"Pompey said he cut the old man's hair off because 'Uncle Cæse put on mos' too much "grandiloquism" for a nigger, eben dough him is a butler'."
Before we get too far away from the church, I feel it my duty to lend a helping hand to the following facts, lest they
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perish by the way. In the good old days when sermons were not measured by time and the congregation was wont to fol- low "the comfortable Dutch custom of taking a nap", Doctor Gosman (the first minister called to preach in the English language-1808) was, on a certain Sunday morning, deliver- ing a powerful sermon on the subject of faith, and used as an illustration the story of Thomas, called Didymus. In the gal- lery sat two brothers one of whom bore the christian name of Thomas, and he, having wandered to the land of dreams, hardly took in the full significance of the Domine's remarks; but, at last, becoming partially aroused by the frequent repetition of his name, as the Doctor in tones of thunder demanded, "Thomas, believest thou me?" finally answered back: "Wat begeert-u van my, Doctor Gosman?" His brother, greatly scandalized at the unseemly interruption, improved the situ- ation vastly by vigorously shaking the drowsy man and say- ing in a loud voice: "Wees stil, man; wees stil! Hy spreekt niet van u; hy spreekt van Thomas Didymus."
On Crown Street, between John and North Front, stands the one-time "Kingston Coffee House", while over against it stands the Kingston Hotel, both of them dating back to an early period.
Mr. Schoonmaker tells how the landlords of both never drank at their own bars as a matter of principle; thus there was a certain nimble sixpence which made many excursions be- tween the two hostelries as the proprietor of one or other de- sired to wet his whistle.
There is a pretty legend attached to the Kingston Hotel, which has Aaron Burr meet John Vanderlyn, the artist, here. The fact that the legend appears to clash with the facts to a small extent is no reason why we should not have it.
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KINGSTON.
As a lawyer Burr traveled this circuit many times and was a well-known figure about the hotel. One day, on going to the stable for his horse, he discovered a young man sketching with charcoal on the great barn door and, struck with the lad's clever handling of his subject, spoke to him. Thus be- gan a friendship which gave the lawyer an opportunity to help the poor artist to the education he most desired.
Schoonmaker's History of Kingston tells us that at the point where the road to West Hurley leaves North Front Street, northwest corner, stood the store of A. & A. Story, later of J. & J. Russell. On the south side of this store was an inlet communicating with a lane (Joy's Lane) leading southerly to Lucas Avenue. That inlet was originally the commencement of the old King's Highway to Hurley, Marbletown, etc. From that point, taking a somewhat circuitous course, it struck into the present road a short distance west of the old Winne house. The change to the present road was made in 1813.
On the south side of this "intake" and at the corner of the lane stood the stone mansion of Nicholas Bogardus. General George H. Sharpe has recorded how Nicholas spent the later years of his life in protecting a fine plum orchard back of his dwelling from certain predatory boys who were fond of plums. His chief weapons were a stout cane and a series of well se- lected Dutch oaths with which the young rascals were bom- barded. The boys, however, appear to have worn oathproof armor, and were quite content could they but keep out of reach of the cane, which, it is to be presumed, was not always the case, and returned to the charge the moment the old gentle- man retired from the field. Thus the latter lived an active, if not peaceful, life and through much exercise a healthy and
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vigorous old age, while his happy command of language was the subject of many congratulations.
While in this vicinity it is interesting to note the origin of Lucas Avenue, which has its name from the fact that it was the starting point of the "Neversink Turnpike Road", in which Judge Lucas Elmendorf of Kingston was the moving spirit. This was organized July 3, 1807, and ran through Hurley, Marbletown, Rochester and Wawarsing. It nearly paralleled the free highway and finally formed a junction with it at Accord. The scheme did not pay, so in 1817 the name of the company was changed to "The President and Directors of the First Great Southwestern Turnpike Road Company", but even such a grand name failed to insure a success and the president and directors were soon looking for another job.
On Lucas Avenue, a step beyond Joy's Lane, still stands one of the old "jail limits" stones, a reminiscence of the times when folks who could not pay for what they ate and wore were committed to the county jail until they could, a highly satisfactory arrangement, no doubt, to the creditor and tax- payer, for then the poor debtor was cared for and none need worry lest he go hungry. In due time some one discovered that the joke was on the taxpayers, and "jail limits" were es- tablished and the debtor was discharged "on the limits", he agreeing not to go beyond the stones which were set up on the main thoroughfares one mile from the jail in all directions, and to report to the jail every day, Sundays and holidays excepted. One undesirable feature to the debtor of this arrangement was the fact that he must secure a bondsman who would pledge twice the amount of the debt, and if the debtor overstepped the bounds by ever so little or so short a time and was caught at it the bondsman must pay.
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KINGSTON.
There is a legend of that old gray stone house erected by Colonel Wessel Ten Broeck in 1676, and now known as the Senate House, which is too beautiful to change, and is given just as it comes to me :---
In some time far remote there lived in this gray mansion a wealthy Dutchman, as staunch to the principles of the gov- ernment of his ancestors as he was rich. Alone with him lived his beautiful young daughter, whom he kept secluded and guarded from the small world about them.
One night there came a rap at the heavy oaken door, and as the hour was late the father answered the call, swinging wide the upper half-door and asking who sought admittance. The answer came in English: He was a stranger on his way from New Amsterdam to Van Rensselaerwyck and sought shelter for himself and horse. The youth was admitted, though the good man hesitated, being ever suspicious of the English, and neither speaking nor understanding their lan- guage any too well. The fine physique, the noble face and ap- parent wealth and refinement of the guest demanded and won the respect of the host.
The Englishman was no more conversant with the Dutch language than was the burgher fluent in the use of English. Conversation was difficult and they soon abandoned any at- tempt to talk. The stranger's eyes wandered about the fire and candle lighted circle; the shadows hid the maiden, but the light fell upon the shining body of a rare old violin on the high mantle. The stranger grasped it eagerly, and gently saying, "Here is a common language-I will speak to you", he raised the violin to his shoulder and produced such rare harmony as was never before heard in Wiltwyck.
On and on he played, lost in a spell of his own weaving.
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The old man's head bowed, his pipe was forgotten in reveries of his home land; the maiden moved out from the dusk as one drawn by an unseen force and stood in the light with shining eyes, glowing cheeks, parted lips and hands clasped before her.
The youth now saw her for the first time, an enchanting picture of enraptured and radiant beauty. He realized the power of the music; he felt the charm of her sweet, young being. On and on he played-for her-now softly as the sigh- ing of the winds in the Summer woods; now the martial strains that tell of tramping feet, of conflict and of victory. The long pipe of the father fell to the hearth before the bright logs, and the reveries gave place to dreams of heavy slumber. The violin was put aside and the young people understood the lovelight kindled in each other's eyes.
When the old man awoke he found his daughter in the gallant's arms. In anger he sent her from the room and in grim silence conducted the other offender to his chamber. His wrath was in no wise calmed in the morning and he has- tened the departure of his visitor. The lover was not in haste to leave his lady, and haunted the plain near the old stone mansion for days, meeting her secretly, but the music they loved betrayed them.
The father ordered the maiden to be locked in her room and the despairing lover went sadly on his journey. For days the girl in sweet melancholy visited the places she and the stranger had frequented. She fondled the violin as a thing which had been voice to their mutual love.
Her father found her thus engaged kneeling on the hearth in the firelight. His anger rose at this rebellion to his wishes and he seized the instrument and roughly dismissed her. She
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went to her room but never left it again. For little more than a fortnight she lingered between life and death and faded away, unheedful of her father's entreaty for forgiveness, but seeking one last favor. She requested that the dear old violin be sealed in the side of the ancient Dutch chimney before which she had first heard her lost lover play, and this request the contrite father gladly granted.
The loyal spirits of the lovers still meet on the hearth be- fore the chimney of the "Old Senate House", and only true, loving souls, disciples of the mystic truth in life, hear the sweet melody of the English lover's unseen violin.
-[Edith M. Elting.
Mrs. J. L. Preston tells a singular incident which occurred to her aunt when the latter was a small girl. A schoolmate being very ill, she was sent by her mother to inquire after the sick one, and returned shortly with the information that it had not been necessary to make inquiry, as she had seen her young companion on the walk in front of the house, that she looked about as usual and smiled on her. Later in the day it was learned that the child had died just about the time her little friend had reported having seen her.
When this occurred the "aunt" was but eight or ten years of age, and too young to appreciate the strangeness of the situation, and she is described in after life as of an unusually phlegmatic and unemotional temperament. It is therefore im- possible that there could have been any make-believe about the matter.
On Frog Alley which, before the Esopus Creek was bridged, led to the ford, stands an old Bogardus home. Some time prior to the Revolution and down to about 1818 this house was occupied by one Roe, the silversmith of Kingston,
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who turned out some very good work. An apprentice who learned his trade here under Roe, Vallette by name, also had something of a reputation in the art.
In those days there were only about eight hundred silver- smiths in the entire country; each made his own designs, was an artist and a man of more or less distinction.
Here is a true witch story from Saugerties, the principal actor in which is still living :-
Some forty years ago a young boy in Saugerties who was musically inclined much desired an organ, and about this time he was taken with violent tremblings and twitchings which greatly alarmed his parents, who finally called in the witch doctor, and he, after studying the case with great care, an- nounced it a most serious one, the only remedy for which was that the boy be passed a certain number of times through the belly of a freshly killed and disemboweled beef, the carcass to be thereafter hung in a well.
This was done, but without the desired effect. My notion is that the carcass in the well was hung wrong end up, and the doctor was again called in. By this time the boy appears to have made the doctor understand what ailed him and the good man announced that he believed music might effect a cure, so the lad secured his organ and immediately thereafter was he made whole.
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HURLEY.
HURLEY.
"Loop, jongens-loop; De Rooje komme; Span de wagen Voor de paerde En vy na Hurley toe."
Hasten, children-hasten; The Red coats come; Hitch up the wagon
Behind the horses And run toward Hurley.
One fine Spring morning I left Kingston on the Old Mine Road, bound for the mine holes on the Delaware. This was the year of the daisy; not for a long time have they been so beautiful or abundant. The farmer hereabouts calls them bulls-eyes and welcomes them with a mowing machine where he can, for they spoil the grass, but they make a wonderfully attractive foreground for pasture and mountain. As I walked a sound came that startled me, even though I could see by the open mouth and stretched neck that it emanated from a mooly-cow, so like was it to a fog horn down on the Massa- chusetts coast that I have heard many a time-even the soughing in of old mooly's breath helped along the illusion, for it was so like unto the gentle lapping of the wavelets on a pebbly shore. Being on pleasure bent, I stopped and listened for a moment, closing my eyes and going back in memory to mornings when I have stood at an upper window and looked out on nothing and listened to the calls from unseen vessels in the harbor or the sudden hammering of a horse's hoofs on the wharf and the as sudden silence as the horse came to earth again, as startling in its way as a sudden crash.
The milestones up here measure the shortest miles that I
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have ever walked, though they agree fairly well with the dis- tances as laid down on the maps; the three miles from Kings- ton to Hurley are a notable example of this brevity of the miles, the surroundings are so unceasingly attractive. A glance down Spook Hollow failed to show Mr. Spook, though he may have been there for all that. My eyes are stigmatic, which may have something to do with the uncertainty of his whereness, for I must look straight ahead through glasses, and my notion is that a ghost is best seen out of the corner of one's eye. Last year, when up this way, our spook was carrying his head in his hands like a Jack-o'-lantern, but what the style of wearing it is for this year I was not able to learn, for it is to be presumed that when one has a detachable head there would be little variations in the manner of carrying it just, as I understand, the method of carrying a cane changes from sea- son to season.
The spook hole is because witches and spooks were wont to gather at the bottom of this gully, which lies near Gus Elmendorf's. The only case of a spook being actually seen there that I have been able to run down is that of a gen- tleman of Hurley who, returning late one night from Kings- ton, found that his horse absolutely refused to pass the spot, no matter how he applied the lash. Finally he dismounted and when on a level with his intelligent beast saw a spook, in shape like a man, leaning against the fence, and being fully persuaded of the reasonableness of his horse's fright, and solely in order to relieve the animal's mind he promptly turned and galloped back, making his way home by another route.
Once around the corner into Hurley Street, I soon found the open door, and entered thereat to find that the friends had rather been expecting me to make an early start and drop in
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HURLEY.
for breakfast. My! how fine the old Senate House did look, all dressed up. Its colors are two-thirds patriotic and one- third Irish-red, white and green-though the Doctor insists his father was an Englishman. Now that the old place is get- ting used to its good clothes and conveniences it must wonder sometimes how it ever got along with any sort of comfort at all in the old days. It turns out that the east room with all its shelves is not to be the kitchen at all, but a library, and back of it the snuggest little writing room that ever was: Hawthorne described it when picturing the Old Manse :-
"In the rear of the house, the most delightful little nook of a study that ever offered its snug seclusion to a scholar. * The study had three windows (ours has only one, but never
mind) set with little, old-fashioned panes of glass, *
*
*
The two on the western side looked, or rather peeped, between the willow branches down into the orchard, with glimpses of the river through the trees. The third facing northward, com- manded a broader view of the river at a spot where its hitherto obscure waters gleam forth into the light of history." The description is not as perfect a fit as I thought it was going to be, but somehow it made me think of the Doctor's "den" when, in an hour's idle reading, I ran across it some time ago.
The Doctor finds that old deeds of Hurley lots describe the property as bordering on the "King's Highway", but the Rochester town records speak of our Old Mine Road as the "King's Highway" and the Hurley deeds may not necessarily mean that this was the great north-and-south "King's High- way" which Mr. Brink believes held its course between here and the Hudson-through Green Kill and so east of the Binne- water Lakes-but rather that which led into the western wilds.
The orchard lot back of the Senate House has not been
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plowed since 1860, until this year, when it is being put into potatoes, and now many arrow points and spear heads are turned up. An Iroquois bowl was recently found in a bank nearby.
It has always been claimed that the Council of Safety re- moved from the "Senate House" because, no matter how warm the debate, the language used immediately froze and fell to the floor. This kept the speaker on the jump lest his toes be smashed by the heavy words and took the mind of the orator from what he was saying to such an extent that no business could be transacted. The Doctor says that "sentimentally it is pleasing to look upon it so", but that the action of the Coun- cil of Safety indicates that the weather had nothing to do with the removal.
The Council desired the Governor to disband it and call a meeting of the Legislature. The Governor, however, ob- jected that his duties would not allow him to come so far north as Hurley, but suggested that if a meeting were held at Poughkeepsie, he would act according to their wishes, as he could arrange to come there and at the same time look after the fortifications intrusted to him by Washington. The Doc- tor suggests that we see the Proceedings of Council of Safety for November 27, 1777, but as it is all written out here plain enough, I see no reason why we should go further :-
"I Cadwallader Colden Esq. Do solemnly Promise unto Charles DeWitt & Gouverneur Morris, a Committee of the Council of Safety of the State of New York by the Councill afors'd appointed to mark out and Settle the Limits and Re- strictions by which I Shall be Confin'd, upon my Enlargement from the fleet prison, that I will forthwith repair to the House of Cap'n Van Deusen, at Hurley, and will not go more than
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HURLEY.
two miles from said House without Permission of his Excel- lency George Clinton Esq. the gov'r of the said state, That so long as I shall Continue Confined as aforesaid, I will not by writing word or deed Do or be Privy to any acct matter or thing whatsoever to Promote the Interest Jurisdiction Claim or Authority of the King or Parliament of Great Britain in or over any Part of North America, And I pray God to help me as I shall keep this my Solemn Oath & Engagement. C. C. Sworn at Kingston in the County of Ulster this 3rd day of Sep'b 1777 Gouv'r Morris Ch. D. Witt."
The Doctor thinks he has laid the Senate House ghost with so simple a contrivance as a wooden door latch. The unseen hand on the latch of the "Antiquarium" door has caused many a cool draught of Winter air to come between the Doctor and his wife, and he has fled to evils that he knows not of by re- moving the old iron latch which sufficed his predecessors and substituting therefor a contrivance made of wood, and this does seem to work.
Just what are the properties of a wooden latch that make it proof against the unseeable, or what kind of a charm the Doctor worked into this particular latch, I know not. The Doctor has made a study of these things and his knowledge is past belief, but what fears me is the thought that the Senate House ghost may attempt some other mode of keeping the household informed of its presence and that the last state of the old house may be worse than the first.
Not every one can have a ghost about his home; it is a sign of respectability that no money can buy, and the Doctor
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had best beware. We know that the building is much above a hundred and fifty years of age, and it is reasonable to sup- pose that the ghost may think it has some rights that a wooden latch has no business to interfere with.
The old hotel in Hurley is no more. On March 18, 1909, about 5 in the morning the village was aroused with the cry of fire, but the discovery was made too late and soon nothing but the crumbling stone walls remained of this historic build- ing.
The hotel was erected in 1716.
The early courts were held here.
It was the rallying point for patriotic meetings during Revolutionary times.
General-Governor George Clinton had his headquarters here when he attempted to aid Kingston in October, 1777.
The members of the Council of Safety resided here when the Council met in the Van Dusen house.
When General Washington passed through Hurley on his way to Kingston, November 16, 1782, the President of the village delivered from the safe shelter of the hotel porch the address of welcome, while the distinguished (I had almost said extinguished) visitor sat his horse bareheaded in the rain, which example his staff were under the necessity of following, though they no doubt, like the gentleman mentioned in Psalms, blessed with their mouth while they cursed inwardly.
We soon started out for a pleasant morning with the Daisies and other wild things that lurk in the nooks and cor- ners of Hurley' suburbs, and followed a footpath across the fields to the western hills and along the sinuous roadway at their feet until Vollicher Falls came into view-merely a thread of water that leaps into the cosiest little basin, and af-
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HURLEY.
ter stopping to get breath trickles away in a little brook that our Irish setter nearly swallowed whole. There may be times when more water adds to the excitement, but nothing could well add to the peaceful delight of the spot. Continuing on we came to the stone road that carries the westing Kingston- ians back into the hills. Then we marched back again and a bit later found ourselves moving south over this same road, catching glimpses of distant Mohonk and of the valley of the "Dug Road", interspersed with gleaming little brooks, old stone houses, clumps of Meadow Rue and other floral fan- tasies until we came to the Judge Elting house, the object of our afternoon journey. This was "The Depot at Marbletown" established by Governor George Clinton in May, 1779. As early as October, 1777, says "Olde Ulster", the Governor had determined to establish a storehouse and magazine at Mar- bletown to deposit military supplies, not too far from the river and near enough to the frontiers to be available in their defense, but while goods were distributed about the neighbor- hood they were not collected under guard until after the at- tack on Fantine Kill showed the necessity for such action, when the house of Andries De Witt was selected for the depot and a guard placed at night.
We found the lady of the house very willing to show us its interesting points. The Doctor is much like Aladdin's lamp in these parts, all one has to do is to rub him-the right way, of course; though any old way seems to be the right way-and lo the doors open and the hearts of the people with them and we are shown the treasures of the past with a glad- ness that makes them doubly attractive. We also found the most inquisitive lot of calves around the outer walls that ever were blessed with a propensity to investigate. They crowded
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around the cameras, felt in our pockets and stepped on our feet with all the abandon of youth; in fact, one had to draw the attention of our curious friends while the other took the picture. It was quite evident that they had not been nurtured in the fear of man.
Hurley appears to have been stocked with real witches from a very early date, but as in all such matters, innocent persons will occasionally be suspected. The Hurleyites, how- ever, used no such crude methods as did the good and gra- cious Pilgrim Fathers-here was no cutting off of ears, nor is there record that the ducking-stool was used to settle the vexed question. The method employed with Betsey Conway is illustrative and, while quite as efficacious, left no unpleasant after effects so far as could be observed.
Betsey lived in a log hut near the watering trough on the Wynkoop property, other side of the creek, and was strongly suspected of being a witch. One day while calling at the home of Cornelius Hotaling, a daughter of the house placed salt under her chair. Now a true witch under such circum- stances is helpless, and when Betsey arose when the time came to go and without difficulty left the house she should have cleared her fair fame of the imputation, but folks will talk.
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