USA > New York > Oneida County > Kirkland > History of the town of Kirkland, New York > Part 4
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HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF KIRKLAND.
tator and John Kunkerpot. This John Kunkerpot when a boy spent some time at Dartmouth College, and on returning to his own people bade fair to become a prom- inent and useful man. In a few years, however, the influ- uence of blood and national habit began to tell upon him, and he became indolent and vicious. My, venerable friend Gaius Butler says of him, " I remember John Kunkerpot well. He was oftener drunk than sober, yet he was witty and keen in repartee. When one of our cit- izens bantered him about the black mark put upon Cain, he replied, ' P'raps it was a white mark ! '"' 1
While Hamilton Oneida Academy was in process of erection, Mr. Kirkland brought five Indian boys from Oneida to his own house in Clinton, to prepare them for entering the Academy when it should open its doors. They were taught in a log school-house on the knoll directly in front of the Lucas place. One of these boys was David Cusick, who afterwards became somewhat distinguished. He was quite playful and quick-witted. One day, as Mr. Kirkland was teaching him the Cate- chism, to the question, " Who made man ? " he replied, " God." " And who made woman ?" "God." " And how did He make woman ?" "Out of old husks, I guess ! "
That the Indian character possessed many excellent
p^ ] It is often said that the Indian mind is wholly lacking in the sense of humor. When a missionary, named Cram, once visited the Senecas on their Reservation in western New York, and asked permission to introduce Christianity among them, Red Jacket, one of their chiefs, replied confessing that the religion they already had did not make his people very good, and that he would be glad of another if it would certainly do the work. To test the power of Cram's religion, therefore, he recommended that he should first go over to the village of Buffalo, and try it for a few months upon the whites. If it made them honest and vera- cious and kind, he might bring it to the Reservation, and the Senecas would accept it. History is silent as to whether the missionary's success warranted his return to the Indians.
39
STORY OF " THE FINE FAT STEER."
traits none will deny ; yet it was also marred by weak- nesses, vices and crimes. As illustrating the thieving propensities of the natives of this region, I will refer my readers to the story of " the fine, fat steer," as told by Hon. Pomroy Jones, with full detail, pp. 873 to 879, of his " Annals." Judge Williams relates the same in fewer words, and I will enrich my pages with his narra- tive. The story is familiar to the old inhabitants of this region, and should be handed down to their children.
" In 1787, Theodore Manross, who had commenced a clearing on the farm for many years occupied by Jesse Wood, about a mile south of Clinton, missed from his herd a fine, fat steer. Suspicion soon fell upon a party of Oneidas who, led by a chief called Beechtree, had for some days been encamped on the hill south of him, and were digging ginseng in the vicinity ; search was made, their encampment was deserted, and the fresh offals of the animal were found near by, secreted.
" A party of ten or twelve active and resolute young men was soon formed. Moses Foot was their captain, and among the company were Jesse Curtiss, Levi Barker, and several other familiar names.
" The Indian trail was fresh, and their path through the nettles and undergrowth was as plain to the sharp eyes of the eager pursuers as a beaten track to the traveller. They followed them to Paris Hill, then to the Sauquoit Creek, a little north of the present village, and thence down the stream. As they came near New Hartford, the track was so fresh that it was manifest they were close upon the Indians. Soon they spied them marching single file, and, taking a little circuit, they came into the path before them, and turning towards them, met them face to face.
40
HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF KIRKLAND.
"'Stop !' said Captain Foot, to Beechtree, their leader ; ' you have stolen and killed the white man's steer.' 'Indian has not killed the white man's steer,' replied Beechtree, leaping forward and drawing from his belt his long hunting-knife. Quick as thought, Captain Foot raised a heavy cane and brought it down with eon- vincing foree upon the naked head of Beechtree. He wineed, and settled down beneath the powerful blow : it was enough, the party surrendered, and on search being made, the hide and bell of the missing animal were found in the pack of one of the Indians, who bore the expressive cognomen of Saucy Nick.
" This was pretty good proof. As the modern and fashionable defenses of sleep-walking, insanity, and the like were not known to these untutored wild ones, they frankly confessed the deed. The prisoners were marched back in a body, and forthwith were confined and guarded in the house of Col. Timothy Tuttle, standing on the site of the present Royee mansion. Mr. Kirkland was immediately sent for, and by permission of the guard they sent a swift messenger to Oneida to summon their friends and chiefs to their assistance, sending a message to them at the same time to drive over a certain cow as a means of settlement for the wrong committed.
" Before the morning sun had risen high, their friends appeared, led by the wise and venerable Skenandoa. The negotiation was carried on in the house of Mr. Tuttle, mainly between Captain Foot and Skenandoa, Mr. Kirkland acting as interpreter. And finally it was agreed that the Indians should give the cow which had been driven from Oneida, to Mr. Manross, to make him good, and the ginseng which they had dug, to the party of young men who had pursued them, to pay them for
41
" SAUCY NICK."
their time and trouble. The whole matter was concluded before noon, and this resolute conduct of the settlers entirely prevented the recurrence of similar aggressions.
"Sancy Nick was alone sullen and revengeful. The theft was more especially charged to and proved upon him ; and on the march from New Hartford to Clinton, he had had a bitter wrangle with one Lemuel Cook, who, if all accounts are true, was as much entitled to the appel- lation of 'saucy,' as Nick himself. His abusive speech had sunk deep into the Indian's memory, and his ardent longing was for revenge and blood. Soon after, he un- successfully attempted to kill Cook at Fort Schuyler, and, the next season, as Cook was ploughing on his farm (now owned by Mrs. Luther Comstock), an Indian arrow whistled swiftly past his ear. The hand that sent it, though unseen, could not be mistaken, and Cook, warned of his danger, soon sold his farm and returned to Con- necticut." 1
From all accounts, it is evident that Saucy Nick and his family were of bad blood. They were noted among the Oneidas for their great physical strength and their cruel dispositions and ferocious temper. It was one of this evil race who sought Rev. Mr. Kirkland's life at Oneida, before the Revolution, and from whose bloody hands he was saved by being concealed in a chest of drawers. It is also supposed that this man was the original after whom the novelist Cooper drew the charac- ter of Wyandotte, in his " Hutted Knoll."
An incident less commonly known than the foregoing,
1 Lecture, p. 26. Mr. Cook finally died at the house of his son, in Clarendon, N. Y., May 21, 1869, aged one hundred and four years. Five generations of his descendants were present at his funeral. He was to the last a great story-teller. and one of his favorites was that of " The fine fat steer and Saucy Nick."
42
HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF KIRKLAND.
and exhibiting the brutal character of the Indians, may be found in the early life of Heinrich Staring, who afterwards became first judge of Herkimer County.
One day, late in the month of November, 1778, while in the woods near Herkimer, he fell in with a strolling party of Oneida Indians, who seized him and marched him off in the direction of Clinton, stopping for the night a few miles south of this village, in what is now Deans- ville. Here they took possession of a small uninhabited wigwam, on the eastern bank of the Oriskany Creek This wigwam was made of logs, and consisted of two rooms, separated by a log partition. Into the larger of these rooms the outside door opened, and was the only
entrance to the building. There was also a door in the partition between the two rooms. In the small room there was a little window six feet above the floor. The Indians brought their captive into this room, where they supposed he could be kept safe until morning. To make the matter sure, they bound his hands behind his back ·with withes, and fastened his ankles together in the same way, and then laid him on the ground. Then they built a fire in the other room, and sat down to consult what final disposition should be made of him. That he should be put to death they were all agreed : the only point of deliberation was, how to do this so as to afford them the greatest entertainment. The conclusion was that he should be burned alive the next morning before a slow fire. During their conference, Staring began to contrive some method of escape; and before they had finished their talk, he had loosened one of the withes from his arm so that he could draw it out at pleasure. This accomplished, he knew that the rest would be an easy matter. He then slipped his hand back into its place,
43
CASE OF HEINRICH STARING.
and feigned sleep ; and when the Indians came in soon after to examine him and found all safe, they retired, whispering to each other with fiendish exultation that he was sleeping for the last time. They then stretched themselves before the fire, and soon fell into a profound slumber.
When they had been a long time quiet, Staring slipped his hand from the withes, unfettered his ankles, cautiously climbed up the logs on the side of the room, and leaped from the window without alarming his keepers. To re- move his ankles from the withes, he had been obliged to take off his shoes ; and in the haste of escaping, he had forgotten to bring them with him. So now, though out- side of the hut, he was barefoot in a frosty night, twenty miles from home, without guide or path, and a pack of blood-thirsty savages intent on killing him. But escape seemed possible, and so, hastening noiselessly to the bank of the creek, he began to follow its course down stream. He had gone only a few miles, when the whoop of the Indians and the bark of their dogs fell on his ear. To throw the dogs off their scent, he plunged into the water, and ran along the channel for some distance, and then crossed to the other side. Being a good runner, he out- stripped the Indians, and ere long had the satisfaction of finding that they had given up the pursuit. When he reached the path from Oneida to Fort Schuyler, which crossed the Oriskany Creek " about half a mile north- west of the present village of Clinton," he took this trail and followed it to the Mohawk Valley. On reaching Fort Schuyler, he found a canoe which had floated down the river, and lodged in some willow bushes near the landing. Taking possession of this, by a vigorous use of the paddles, aided by the current, he soon reached home.1
· 1 See Tracy's Lecture, p. 24.
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HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF KIRKLAND.
It is an old saying that the Indian never forgets a favor nor forgives an injury. Judge Jones relates a story which does not confirm this opinion. His account, much condensed, runs thus : A young Oneida chief called with his wife one day at the tavern of Barnabas Pond, in Clinton, and asked for rum. Mr. Pond replied that he never sold it to Indians intoxicated, but as he appeared sober, he would let him have a little. After dividing his dram with his wife, he went away.
In the afternoon they returned, and five other Indians with them. The young chief was now excited with liquor. As he stepped up to the bar and demanded a half- pint of rum, Major Pond repeated what he had said in the morning, and refused to sell him any strong drink. " But I want to treat my friends," said the chief, " and will not taste a drop myself:" at the same time he showed a piece of silver coin which he had tied up in his handkerchief. Major Pond then let him have the rum, and, true to his word, he gave it to his companions. Just as they were leaving the inn, Major Pond reminded the chief that he had not paid for his liquor. " Haven't got
no money, and can't pay for it." " Not so," said the major ; " you showed me money before you had the rum, and now you have lied about it." " What! you say I lie !" shouted the angry savage, and bounded toward the major with his drawn knife. Major Pond, a strong and courageous man, struck the uplifted arm of the Indian between the elbow and shoulder, causing the knife to fly out of his hand, then gave him a blow across the throat, and at the same time tripped up his feet and brought him to the floor. To use the major's figure in relating it, " He fell like an ox knocked down in a slaughter-house." At first, he lay breathless, and Mr. Pond began to fear
45
ELIJAH WAMPE.
he had dealt him too hard a blow ; but shortly the Indian recovered his breath and rose to his feet. When fully restored, he threw his handkerchief to the major, who took out his pay, and returned the balance and the knife. The chief refused to take them, as did his wife likewise, and the whole party soon went away.
Not many weeks afterward, the Indian came again, apologized to Mr. Pond, saying that he was a fool when drunk, that the major had treated him just as he de- served, and he hoped that they should continue to be good friends. Mr. Pond forgave him, and pledged his friendship, provided that the chief behaved well in future ; and then went and brought the handkerchief and knife to their owner. They were again refused on the ground that they had been forfeited by his misconduct. Here the matter ended ; the chief, who afterwards came often to Clinton, never showing any resentment towards Major Pond.
Of the Brothertown tribe, several were noted in their day, though they are now nearly forgotten. Asa Dick and his brother Joseph were of the Narragansett stock,. and were men of much intelligence. Our fathers speak also of David Fowler, Elijah Wampe, John Tuhi, and Dolphus Fowler, who came with others into the region of Deansville, before the Revolutionary War. On the breaking out of this war, as they maintained a friendly neutrality to the colonists, the largest portion returned to New England, because they feared the Iroquois, most of whom had sided with the English. A few, however, re- mained, spending a part of their time overseeing their property at Brothertown, and the rest of it at Fort Stan- wix. Elijah Wampe was one of these. One day, as he was going from the fort to Brothertown, and had pro-
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HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF KIRKLAND.
ceeded only a few miles, a hostile Indian sprang out from an ambush and pointed his rifle at him. Wampe in- stantly sprang forward, knocked up the muzzle of the gun, sending the ball over his head, and then fell upon his adversary with his knife and soon dispatched him. Wampe, reflecting at once that the report of the Indian's rifle would soon draw his comrades to the spot, caught up the gun and bore it in triumph to the fort.
.After an interval, Wampe ventured to return to Brothertown, and for a year or more kept up a rude sort of tillage of his lands ; but he so often met with harsh usage from strolling bands of hostile Indians, - once, in- deed, barely escaping with his life, - that he finally con- cluded it was useless to attempt farming in war time, and was glad to take refuge under the protecting guns of Fort Stanwix.1
Our sketches of Indian life and character in this region thus far, have not reflected favorably upon the honesty or the humanity of the natives. But a somewhat differ- ent shade may be given to this picture before we finish it.
Tradition relates that one Otatocheta, a chief of the Oneidas, aided in forming the confederacy of the Five Nations. The chief of the grand council addressed them at the close of the ceremonies thus : " And you, Oneidas, a people who recline your bodies against the Everlasting Stone that cannot be moved, shall be the Second Nation, because you give wise counsel."
Mention is also made of Atondutochan, a distinguished Oneida chief, who in the year 1655 visited Canada, and exerted a powerful influence among the Iroquois.
Few persons in this country have not heard of Skenan- doa, the Oneida chief, equally famous among his own
1 See Appendix B.
.
47
SKENANDOA.'
people as warrior, statesman, and orator. He was born about the year 1706, though the place of his birth is not known, nor the events of his early life. It is generally admitted that in his young manhood he was fieree and revengeful in disposition, and intemperate in his habits. In the year 1755, while attending a council at Albany, he one night became intoxicated, and in the morning found himself stripped of his clothing and personal ornaments. The discovery filled him with such shame and mortifica- tion that he thereupon vowed never again to touch or taste the debasing fire-water, a vow which it is believed he religiously kept. In a speech made to his people late in life, he adjures them thus: " Drink no strong water. It makes you mice for white men, who are cats. Many a meal have they eaten of you."
In person, he was tall and commanding, being more than six feet in height, and of goodly proportions. Ac- cording to Indian custom, he was tattooed in nine lines, running across the shoulders and chest. He had great strength and power of endurance. Even at eighty-five he was a match for any member of his tribe in feats of agility. Noble and dignified in address, he was also wise in counsel and eloquent in speech. Rev. Mr. Kirkland considered him as in all respects the most remarkable man of his acquaintance among the Iroquois. One of our local historians writes of him : " In his riper years, he was one of the noblest counselors among the North American tribes. He possessed a vigorous mind, and was alike sagacious, active, and persevering. As an enemy, he was terrible ; as a friend and ally he was gentle in disposition and bearing, and he was faithful to his en- gagements. His vigilance once preserved from massaere the inhabitants of the little settlement at German Flats,
48
HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF KIRKLAND
and in the Revolutionary War, his influence indueed the Oneidas to declare in favor of the Americans." 1
From his interest and sympathy with the colonists, and from his fidelity to his word, he was distinguished among the Indians as " The White Man's Friend." Not long after Mr. Kirkland's settlement among the Oneidas, Skenandoa professed his belief in christianity ; and though he never became free from errors and imperfee- tions, in the judgment of charity he was a sincere and humble christian.
In his old age he was blind, and he spoke English with little fluency ; yet such was his sagacity and intelligence, his decorum of manner and speech, that his society was much sought after. On one occasion late in life, he was visited by a party of young ladies escorted by a daughter of Mr. Kirkland. After a few words of courtesy, Skenan- doa asked, " Are these ladies married ?" On being an- swered in the negative, he replied, " It is well, for there are many bad men." Miss Kirkland, who understood the ways of the old sagamore, afterwards remarked that if the reply had been in the affirmative, he would have rejoined politely, " It is well, if you have good hus- bands." To Prof. Seth Norton, who, in a similar con- versation confessed his old-bachelorhood, he replied, " It is well, for there are many bad women."
As to the precise time when the most remarkable speech of his life was made, authorities differ. Some maintain that it was delivered to his tribe at the time of a treaty made for the sale of some of their lands ; others that it was addressed to a company of white people who came to see him shortly before his death. But whenever uttered, it is worthy of all the encomiums that have been
1 Jones, p. 866.
49
DEATH OF SKENANDOA.
bestowed upon it: " I am an aged hemlock. The winds of a hundred winters have whistled through my branches. I am dead at the top. The generation to which I be- longed have run away and left me. Why I live, the great Good Spirit only knows. Pray to my Jesus that I may have patience to wait for my appointed time to die."
After Mr. Kirkland's removal to Clinton, Skenandoa often · expressed the desire to be buried at his death by the side of his friend and teacher, so that "he might cling to the skirts of his garments, and go up with him at the great resurrection." In the later years of his life, he several times came to Clinton, hoping to die here. During these visits to Mr. Kirkland he was treated with great consideration and kindness. Miss Eliza Kirkland (afterwards Mrs. Dr. Robinson) assumed special charge of him, taking care of his little bedroom, washing his face and hands, brushing his hair, and keeping his clothes whole and tidy. His last sickness, however, came upon him at Oneida Castle. As his end drew near, prayers were offered at his bedside by his great-granddaughter, and while the words were being uttered, he sank into the sleep of death, on the 11th of May, 1816, aged about one hundred and ten years.
In accordance with a promise made by the family of Mr. Kirkland, his remains were brought to Clinton and interred by the side of his spiritual father. Funeral services were held in the Congregational church, and were largely attended by white people and Indians, many of the latter coming from Oneida for that purpose. An eye-witness (my mother) relates that the Indians, men and women, were seated in the middle pews of the church, and the whites in the other seats and in the galleries. Rev. Dr. Backus, President of Hamilton 4
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HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF KIRKLAND.
College, made an address to the Indians, which Judge Amos Dean, standing beneath the pulpit, interpreted. The Indians rose to their feet during this address. If Indian stoicism forbade tears and loud lamentations, yet doubtless every heart mourned for the brave old chief with ingenuous sorrow. After prayer and the singing of appropriate hymns, the body was carried to the grave, the order of the procession being as follows : first, stu- dents of the college ; next, the hearse, followed by the Indians ; and behind these, Mrs. Kirkland and family, Judge Dean, Rev. Dr. Norton, Rev. Mr. Ayres, President Backus and other officers of the college, and citizens. The remains were borne to the garden of Mr. Kirkland, where they were buried according to his desire. In the year 1856, by authority of the trustees of the college, the body of Rev. Mr. Kirkland, together with those of his family and of Skenandoa, were disinterred and removed to the college cemetery. A memorial-stone was erected, many years ago, to the memory of the Indian chief. We rejoice to record that during the present year (1873) a suitable monument has been raised over the grave of the Indian missionary and the founder of Hamilton Col- lege.1
Another chief of the Oneidas, bearing the sobriquet of Plattkopf, though younger than Skenandoa and less influential as a counselor, was hardly less distinguished for his eloquence. Tradition has preserved the outlines of one of his addresses, which we give substantially in the words of one who heard it. It was made at a council, held several years after the Revolution, to consider the question of the sale of their reserved lands to the State. The council was held beneath a large pine-tree, known
1 See Appendix C.
51
PLATTKOPF.
since as the Council Tree, which stood on the south side of the turnpike road, a short distance west of the village of Oneida. On the third day Plattkopf rose to speak. He descanted upon the numbers and strength of the Oneidas before the white man came. Pointing to the tree under which they stood, which though large was beginning to decay, he said: "We were once like this great pine-tree. It was then young and vigorous. It drew its nourishment from the soil, the whole ground, for the Oneidas then owned it all. And it grew larger and stronger and more beautiful every year. So did the Oneidas. At length the pale-faces came, and we sold them a part of our land. A root of the tree which grew in that land withered, for it had no soil. And the leaves and branches withered along with the root. Then other white men came, and we sold them another piece of land, and forthwith another root and branch died, and the tree lost more of its symmetry and beauty. The white man came still again, and the tree failed more and more. It now puts forth no new roots or branches, because it has so little land. And now the white man is here again. He wants more land, more land. He is hungry for land. Shall we let this grand old tree, under which our fathers sat, lose another and another root, and cause another branch to fall and die ? "
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