USA > New York > Genesee County > History of the Genesee country (western New York) comprising the counties of Allegany, Cattaraugus, Chautauqua, Chemung, Erie, Genesee, Livingston, Monroe, Niagara, Ontario, Orleans, Schuyler, Steuben, Wayne, Wyoming and Yates, Volume II > Part 48
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with the rapid progress and development of the country that he clambered to the peaks of the rafters and running along them like a squirrel, finished his acrobatic stunt by standing on his head on the gable end, farthest from the ground. But now about the panther that chased my grandmother.
The county records record the fact that my grandfather pur- chased a farm near Hornby Lake in 1816. In 1824 he sold this farm and purchased the old homestead before mentioned. As his cabin was located in the valley, whereas his former home had been upon the higher land, it became a family expression to refer to his former neighbors as living "up on Hornby."
One day my grandmother, having no doubt finished all of her spinning, carding, fulling, weaving and all of her other household duties, took an afternoon off and went "up on Hornby." She took a short cut by way of a bridle path and having visited to her heart's content, returned towards evening by the same route. She was tripping along through the forest, when she heard someone calling. Pausing to listen, she noted that the sound proceeded from the direction she had just come, and thinking that one of her recent hosts was endeavoring to overtake her for some reason or other, she sat down upon a log to await them. In a few mo- ments the call was repeated, startlingly near at hand and the frontier woman recognized the call as that of a panther, which was apparently trailing her.
She sprang to her feet and gathering her skirts about her, she flew down the hillside, never pausing until her own door-step was reached. The panther came into sight in the clearing but after screaming a few times, reentered the forest and disappeared from her view.
That evening, when she recounted the story of her adventure to the men at the supper table, many of them treated the matter lightly and one young man named "Jerry" ridiculed the idea of any "painter" being still at large in that part of the country. Jerry laughed loudly at my grandmother. He told her that she had heard a fox and that the animal she had seen in the clearing was no doubt Sam Lily's calf. My grandmother greatly resented Jerry's sarcasms and fate was soon to come to her assistance.
The following afternoon Jerry, mounted upon my grandfa- ther's best black horse, went "up on Hornby" and towards eve-
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ning returned by way of the same bridle path. The family were seated at the supper table when amid a great clattering of stones down the bridle path charged the black horse with Jerry clinging desperately to its back. Across the clearing the black horse raced, its ears laid flat to its head and the hatless Jerry clinging on.
My grandfather, who had a sense of humor, suggested that when Jerry came into the house, that no one should ask him the cause of his excitement. In a few moments Jerry appeared, puf- fing and blowing, but no one paid the slightest attention to him. He washed himself and took his seat at the table, when my grand- father said to him, "Jerry, I am always willing to let you take any of the horses to ride, but I thought you were horseman enough to know better than to run a young animal down-hill." And Jerry remarked that if my grandfather or anyone else had gone through the experience that he had just gone through a little matter like running a horse down-hill would not have seemed a bit important. He had met the panther in the trail and the panther had stood its ground. As Jerry knew that the beast could over- take him going up hill, he realized that his only safety lay in forcing the panther out of the path. Jerry was an expert horse- man and he held the frightened black horse head-on towards the panther, which snarled and lashed its tail, but at length leaped into the bushes and the black horse flashed by, the panther pursu- ing for some distance as a single claw mark on the colt gave evidence.
Anyone who has had the slightest acquaintance with woman- kind may supply the words which my grandmother used in her monologue addressed to Jerry.
A panther hunt was at once organized, but the panther fled the country. A short time afterwards a mill owner at Tyrone missed a large mastiff dog. Looking under the slab pile, he was aston- ished to see an enormous panther snoozing beside the remains of the mastiff. The panther was shot and measured ten feet from tip to tip. Judging from his size, I am sure that no one will dis- pute the assertion that this was the very same panther which chased my grandmother.
The immediate vicinity of Bath was not noted for its Indian villages. The principal reason why this locality was shunned by the redman was on account of the presence of numerous rattle-
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snakes. There was enough room in the country for both the In- dian and the rattlesnake and as even the valiant Seneca did not relish the idea of having one of these venomous reptiles for a bed fellow he gave the region a wide berth. Many are the amusing tales which the earliest settlers told regarding the great number of snakes which inhabited the flat where Bath now stands. But aside from the rough humor, which appealed so strongly to the frontiersman, a very serious risk was incurred by the men who set out to clear the land. It is certain that any one bitten by one of the reptiles escaped death by the barest margin.
It is strange that no rattlers were ever found on the west shore of the river, while the east bank teamed with them, and even now the east hill commonly known as "Mount Washington" harbors them.
Colonel Charles Williamson, who was the first agent for the Pulteney Estate and who held for them the title to this whole region, came to Bath in 1792 and began the survey of its streets. It is due to his wisdom that the streets were laid out wide and straight, for he planned to build a metropolis.
Charles Williamson's personality reminds one of the Knights of the Crusades. He was an adventurer of the boldest type. A chivalrous and daring man. He was a keen sportsman in the broadest sense. We are told that he was tall and slender with the manners of a courtier. He wore lace cuffs, knee breeches, buckled shoes and a powdered wig. It is said of him that he was one of the most accomplished horsemen and that his skill as a duelist often stood him in good stead. A writer of that day states that one of the most exhilarating spectacles he had ever witnessed was Colonel Williamson riding his running horse through the forest path, his cape fluttering in the wind. This gallant and accom- plished man fared but ill in the wilderness. His investments proved unprofitable and at length he was forced to accept a char- itable offer from the Pulteneys to relieve him from financial embarrassment. After attempting in vain to retrieve his fortune in other lands the unfortunate but courageous man perished of yellow fever at sea and was buried in the Atlantic. There have been few more romantic and interesting lives than that of Charles Williamson.
In these early years Bath was at the head of navigation of the Conhocton River, it being possible for flat boats to ascend up
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stream to that point. Baltimore was the principal market for the infant colony and "arks" loaded with grain, lumber and pro- duce were floated down the current to that point. These arks were some fifteen feet in width by seventy feet in length and were steered by large sweeps. A voyage down the swift river on such a craft must have been well worth taking, and we are told that considerable profit was made by the first adventures in this novel means of transportation.
It is recorded that just as one of the arks was about to cast off, a highly dressed individual wearing a beaver hat, on learning that the ark was bound for Baltimore, demanded to be a passen- ger. The ark was floating some distance away from shore, but a stalwart joker volunteered to carry the distinguished guest on board. In his hilarious effort to entertain the bystanders he pur- posely tripped and fell with his indignant burden, thereby merit- ing and receiving enthusiastic applause from his sympathetic au- dience, which is but another instance that proves that sympathy is not always with the under-dog.
Then there is the case of a former resident of Bath, who floated down the river to Baltimore with an ark loaded with cherry lum- ber and grain. Finding that the Baltimore market was depressed, he engaged a ship to take him and his cargo to Boston, but on the voyage to Boston he was informed that the Boston market was also weak and his informant advised him to make his way to Havana, Cuba, in which direction he now tacked, only to en- counter a hurricane off Cape Hattaras, during which the safety of the vessel necessitated throwing overboard a considerable por- tion of the cargo. When our hero at length arrived in Cuba he found that the same storm had swept the island, wrecking many buildings, which so increased the value of the lumber that a hand- some profit was made upon the remainder, whereupon our embryo speculator determined to go to Brazil and bring back a ship load of mules. All would have gone well had not the usual perversity of the mule manifested itself, many of them dying on the way to Cuba, so our hero sailed back to Baltimore and released his ship, losing on the venture no more than the original value of his first cargo, the most disheartening feature of the escapade being that he and his crew were forced to walk all the way home from Balti- more.
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BENJAMIN PATTERSON.
Among the adventurous spirits who accompanied Colonel Wil- liamson was the renowned Benjamin Patterson, known to the frontier people as "Ben." The imagination of any writer of thrilling tales of deeds of daring and bloodshed has pictured no more heroic character than his. He was a matchless hunter, thor- oughly versed in woodcraft. He possessed a well trained mind, with unusual powers of memory and a vocabulary which included several languages. He was an Indian fighter of high reputation and was one of the members of the celebrated Frontier Rifle Corps, which performed the perilous duties of defending the border dur- ing the Revolutionary War. His services as guide and informant to the early settlers were of inestimable value.
He was a man of medium height, and although stockily built, he was extremely agile and possessed of extraordinary muscular strength. It is said of him that "he never encountered a man who got the better of him in a scuffle." His honesty was so unques- tioned that among the frontier folk to be called "as honest as Ben Patterson" was considered the highest compliment to one's integ- rity. Patterson was born in Virginia in 1759 and died at Painted Post in 1830, the last half of his life being spent within Steuben County. He was a blood relation of Daniel Boone.
Mr. Patterson's early years were spent along the Susquehanna frontier in Pennsylvania, where he developed those traits which distinguished him in such a marked degree later on. At that period he explored the forests and penetrated the ravines of the Alleghenies and as though imbued with the spirit of wanderlust discovered hitherto unknown streams, valleys and mountains. But it was during the Revolutionary War that he became better known to the frontier people and it is said that his hairbreadth escapes and thrilling adventures were almost without number.
When the famous French statesman Talleyrand visited the wilds of the United States it was Ben Patterson who was his guide and Colonel Williamson esteemed himself most fortunate in securing the services of Ben Patterson in the enterprise of open- ing the vast holdings of the Pulteney Estate to the colonists. Pat- terson soon became a great favorite of Colonel Williamson and was the recipient of many kindly and complimentary favors at
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his hand. Chief Justice Spencer, who was at that time circuit judge, became so enamored of Patterson's graphic accounts of wild adventure that he sat up an entire night listening to him and it is claimed that afterwards, whenever holding court at Bath, he invariably sent for Mr. Patterson, paid his hotel bills, and enjoyed the pleasure of his company while off the bench.
The following is taken from McMaster's History of Steuben County : "His acquaintance with the famous interpreter, Horatio Jones, commenced in true frontier chivalry. A party of Indians, with a few white men, had gathered around a camp-fire near the Genesee, when for some reason the savages began to insult and abuse an individual who was standing by. At length they threw him into the fire. The man scrambled out. The Indians again seized him and threw him into the fire. Patterson, who stood near, a perfect stranger to the company, sprang forward, saying to the tormentors, "Don't burn the man alive!" and dragged him off the burning logs. Two or three of this genial party, displeased at the interruption of their diversions, immediately assaulted the hunter, but relinquished the honor of whipping him to Jones, who stepped forward to settle the affair in person. Jones was also famed as a "smart man," being powerful, well skilled in athletic sports, and able to maintain his authority over the Indians by strength of arm. Before the fight had lasted many minutes, the savages standing around began to whisper in their own language, "He has got his match this time," with perhaps some little satis- faction, for the interpreter used a rod of iron and sometimes banged his people without ceremony. Jones was badly beaten and kept to his wigwam for several days. At the trial of the Indians, Sundown and Curly-eye, at Bath, in 1825, Jones, who was present as interpreter, laughed heartily over the matter and sent his com- pliments to the old hunter.
He was, of course, a crack shot, and carried a rifle which killed where vulgar guns smoked in vain. In one of his excursions with Captain Williamson he found a wild ox roving over the vast Genesee Flats, which, by his sagacity and swiftness, baffled all the efforts of the Indians to destroy him. This beast was the last of several domestic oxen which at times strayed to these marvelous meadows and became wild as buffalos. They lived like the cattle
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of Eden in the luxurious pasture of the flats during the summer, and in the winter, by thrusting their noses through the snow, ate the frozen grass below, and sustained life quite comfortably. All had been slain but the one, which was now grazing in that great field, and his faculties had been so sharpened by the relapse to barbarism that it was quite impossible for even the craft of the Indians to circumvent him. His scent was almost as keen as the elk's; his eyesight was so quick and suspicious that before the red men could skulk within gunshot of him, he shook his great white horns and raced off through the high grass like an antelope. Captain Williamson charged Patterson to lay low the head of this famous beast. The hunter crept along carefully while the ox was grazing, and when it raised its head and stared around the plain to discern an enemy, lay flat in the grass. Either his patience or his skill was greater than that of the Indians, for he completely out-generalled the wary animal, got within fair shooting range of it, fired and brought it down. The savages set up a great whoop- ing, and crowded around the fallen ox as though it were a horned horse, or a sea-elephant. One of his noble horns, suitably carved and ornamented, afterwards hung at the hunter's side as a powder-horn.
"He preserved in his old age all the characteristics of the hunter, and always found his chief pleasures in the vigorous pur- suits to which his youth had been devoted. When attending court at Bath, as a juryman, he was in the habit of going out in the morning before anybody was stirring to the little lake east of the village and shooting a deer before breakfast. It is to be regretted that the reminiscences we have collected of this far-known char- acter, and recorded in this and in succeeding chapters of this volume, are so scanty. More of the thousand tales which he told of the "old times" to boys and neighbors and travelers might doubtless be gathered even yet; but had they been taken from his own lips in his lifetime they would have formed a volume of reminiscence and adventure of rare interest. There would have been, besides, a gain in accuracy ; for what we have collected were told twenty or thirty years ago to youngsters. Whatever was told by the old hunter himself was to be relied upon, for he was carefully and strictly truthful."
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SPRINGFIELD FARM.
In 1799 Colonel Williamson began the construction of the larg- est and most magnificent private house in all western New York. The edifice was located upon his private lands, which he had named "Springfield Farm" and which were situated adjacent to Lake Salubria. The dwelling contained broad halls, enormous rooms, and chambers, some of them of sufficient size to serve as grand ball-rooms. The exterior was elaborately decorated and the surrounding grounds were planted with shrubs and orna- mental trees. An unkind fate, however, destined that the Colonel should not long occupy it, for upon its completion, in 1801, he severed his connection with the Pulteney Estate and relinquished it to Major Thornton, a former officer of the Revolution, who with his handsome young Virginian wife held it for some time. The Major died in 1806 and the farm fell into other hands and even- tually the mansion became vacant and stood for many years a picture of desolation. It was finally torn down and the present farm-house of Mrs. Wilkes occupies the site.
Conspicuous among the services which Colonel Williamson rendered to posterity was that of properly surveying the streets of Bath. Straight, wide, regular and systematic they have ever been a distinct asset to the village which bears the name which he gave it in compliment to his principal patron, Sir William Pulte- ney from a fancied resemblance of the hill formation to that of Bath, England, the home of Sir William. Another service which Williamson rendered was the attraction of desirable citizens to the town. There were blue-blood Virginians, canny Scotchmen, and industrious Dutch. From the very first, Bath grew and pros- pered and its initial prosperity was due to the sterling character and true sportsmanship of its settlers.
One chapter of the early history of the settlement is both amusing and pathetic.
It seems that one of the partners of the Pulteney Estate had engaged a certain Doctor Berezy, a German, to assemble a colony of his countrymen, although it is claimed that Colonel William- son did not favor the idea. The plan was put through and about two hundred men, women and children arrived in this country in 1792. History tells us that the sojourners from the Fatherland
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were fat and healthy, but ignorant in all matters pertaining to forest work and the rough life on the frontier. So it became nec- essary to pilot these simple and child-like people through the wilderness and Ben Patterson was entrusted with that responsi- bility and accompanied by seven other foresters he set out with the emigrants. When a short distance into the woods, it became necessary to open a road and the Germans, for the first time, ex- perienced the novelty of cutting down trees. One of the observers reported that the trees looked as if they had been gnawed down by a beaver and swinging the nine pound frontier axe must indeed have been a difficult and painful undertaking for the inexperi- enced men. Tired and sore, they began to feel the stern discom- forts of life in the wilderness and as the weeks progressed they found themselves each day sinking deeper into the wilds. At night the howling of wolves, and the hooting of the owls fright- ened the children and disturbed the slumbers of the grown. It was September, and the equinoxial storms swept overhead, drench- ing and chilling. Swollen rivers had to be crossed, mountains had to be overcome and every fatigue endured.
Terror strickened at the dangers before them, the men wept and at length became mutinous. Patterson states, "I could com- pare my situation to nothing but that of Moses with the children of Israel. I would march them along a few miles and then they would rise up and rebel." On one occasion it became necessary for Patterson to flourish his tomahawk and threaten them with death before order was restored.
November had nearly passed before they succeeded in crossing the mountains and cold weather had set in, when their supply of coffee became exhausted and great was the lamentation, but nev- ertheless the expedition continued to press onward.
A few miles below where the present village of Mansfield, Pennsylvania, now stands, they encamped and Patterson, after killing an abundance of game for their needs, left them and made his way to Painted Post, where he obtained needed provisions and returned to the camp with several canoes. "He found his poor people in utter despair. They lay in their tents bewailing their misfortunes, and said that the Englishman had sent them there to die. He had sent a ship to Hamburgh, he had enticed them from their homes, he had brought them over the ocean on purpose
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that he might send them out into the wilderness to starve. They refused to stir and begged Patterson to let them die. But he was even yet merciless. He blustered about without ceremony, cut down the tent-pole with his tomahawk, roused the dying to life, and at length drove the whole colony to the river bank.
Worse and worse! When the Germans saw the slender canoes they screamed with terror, and loudly refused to entrust them- selves to such shells. The woodsmen, however, put the women, the children and the sick into the canoes almost by main force and launched forth into the river, while the men followed by land. Patterson told them to keep the Indian trail, but as this sometimes went back into the hills and out of sight of the river, they dared not follow it for fear of being lost. So they scrambled along the shore as best they could, keeping their eyes fixed on the flotilla as if their lives depended on it. They tumbled over the banks; they tripped up over the roots; where the shores were rocky they waded in the cold water below. But the canoes gliding merrily down- ward wheeled at last into Chemung and the men also, accomplish- ing their tedious travels along the shore, emerged from the wilder- ness and beheld with joy the little cabins clustered around the Painted Post. Here their troubles ended. "Flour and coffee from Tioga Point were waiting for them, and when Peter the Baker turned out warm loaves from his oven, and der lieber Kaffee steamed from the kettles with grateful fragrance, men and women crowded around the guide, hailed him as their deliverer from wild beasts and perilous forests and begged his pardon for their bad behavior."
As it was now December, they remained at Painted Post for the winter, continuing on to their destination the following spring. An amusing incident concerns a little patch of potatoes, which a settler above the Post had raised. "The Germans snuffed the precious vegetables and determined to have them. Finding that they could no more be restrained from the plunder of the potato hole than Indians from massacre, Patterson told them to go on, and if the owner swore at them to say, "thank'ee, thank'ee!" as if receiving a present. This they did and the settler lost his treasures to the last potato. The guide paid him five times their value, and bade him go to Tioga Point for seed."
"They were the simplest creatures I ever saw," said an old 40-Vol. 2
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lady; "they had a cow with them, and they loved it as if it was a child. When flour was scarcest they used to feed her with bread."
One incident of the journey through the wilderness should not be overlooked. It seems that a lone Indian was absorbed in pre- paring his mid-day meal. He was boiling succotash in a little kettle suspended over a fire. In order to cook succotash over a hot fire, it was necessary to stir the mixture constantly. Not being in fear of the white men, the Indian was not disturbed at their approach, and suddenly found himself surrounded by the two hundred excited Germans, who were greatly elated at the sight of what they termed "a wild man." They danced around him in glee all the while jabbering at him in their native tongue. The Indian summoned all of his self control and continued to gaze stoically into the pot, but in Patterson's opinion, the young brave was so badly frightened to find himself in the midst of a mob of two hundred excited strangers that he dare not lift his eyes.
GENERAL MCCLURE.
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