USA > New York > Orange County > New Windsor > History of the town of New Windsor, Orange County, N.Y. > Part 5
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* Date engraved on back of fire-place. The second building on the left is said to have been erected in 1745.
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enough. I learn that the remains of the Clintons have recently been removed .*
"The subject of DeWitt Clinton's birth-place comes up in my mind. He was born in 1769, at the residence of his father, General James, who then resided with his father, Colonel Charles. General James built the house where he died, on the road leading from Newburgh to Goshen. Frank Mulliner now owns it. It was built about the commencement of the present century. My grandfather, Edward Miller, was the me- chanic. I am aware that the statement that DeWitt was born at the old homestead has been disputed in Mr. Eager's "History of Orange County," on the authority of Mr. Gumar, of Deerpark, who endeavors to make his readers believe that 'Mrs. Clinton left her comfortable home at the most inclement season of the year, and traveled over forty miles of the necessarily illy constructed roads of that period, including moun- tain passes and bridgeless streams, only two or three weeks before her confinement ; that she was prevented from returning home, by a severe snow storm, until after the birth of her child, DeWitt. I have to say that not only do I reject the story as improbable, but assert that no such idle tale ever had currency in Little Britain. Many of the old people residing in the immediate neighborhood-ladies proverbial for their knowledge of all such matters-have I heard converse on the subject, and if so singular an occurrence was the fact, I should certainly have learned it. These old people always referred to the old homestead as the place where DeWitt was born. It is not improbable that Alexander, the oldest brother of DeWitt, was born in Deerpark, but in that case Mrs. Clinton did not travel forty miles-she had not then removed from Deerpark. I might give a score of names of the oldest residents in the neighborhood whom I have consulted specially on this subject, and their uniform testimony is that DeWitt was born at the place I have stated.
"The farm next west of the Clinton homestead was that on which General James Clinton resided at the time of his death; and the farm next on the west was one to which Edward Miller and his wife, Susan Buchanan, had some sort of title. These were my maternal grand- parents .** About the time of my birth they left there and located on a
* The remains of the Clinton family were removed from the grounds in the summer of 1876, and deposited in Woodlawn Cemetery, by James A. C. Gray, of New York. A substantial monument was also erected by him.
** Edward Miller was born in Dublin, and served an apprenticeship there as a carpenter. He came to New Windsor before the Revolution; was one of the signers of the Revolutionary pledge, and was in the battle at Fort Montgomery, in Col. McClaughrey's regiment, in 1777. He was a man of some refinement; he was a good violinist and an excellent penman. He married a daughter of Robert Buchanan, and was the grand-father of Hon. Edward McGraw, by whom these recollections were written.
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smaller piece of land further west of the old place. There they both died in 1809; and during the war of 1812, my father and mother, Thomas McGraw and Elizabeth Miller, bought the farm of the other heirs and lived there until 1830, when the whole family emigrated to Michigan. Between the death of my grand-parents and the purchase of the prop- erty by my parents, Thomas Gourley got possession of it, as I was told, by purchase ; he cut off all the valuable timber, but failed to pay for the land. West of my father's farm was one on which William Cross and family resided. The next occupant was Alexander Falls. West of this was a farm of about one hundred acres occupied by James Strachan and his wife. Mrs. Strachan claimed some relationship to the General and expected to receive the farm from him, but his will only gave her a life interest in it. Mrs. Clinton had the credit of changing the Gen- eral's intentions in the matter, but the gossips were probably mistaken. Mrs. Strachan was a worthy woman; she died probably firty years ago. Her daughter, Mary, married James Martin, of Little Britain, and when I left the county he kept a tavern in an old stone building on Colden street, before or afterwards known as Gardner's tavern.
"About eighty rods (I measure from memory) from General Clin- ton's new house, on the road to Newburgh, another road left the main highway (and does yet) and ran westward along the line of the Clinton property. As the Newburgh road ran a little to the west of south, the two roads formed a somewhat acute angle. The extreme northeast point of this angle was not occupied, but left open as commons. On the extreme end of it, the General planted a red freestone land-mark, on which he had cut his initials, J. C., and the passage from the Bible : "Cursed be he who removeth his neighbor's land-mark." This anathema inspired the good people of Little Britain with much caution is driving their teams around the corner. Although the open triangle was driven over every day in the year, not one blundering wheel touched the inter- dicted stone up to the year 1830. From my earliest recollection it was called the "cursed stone," and the triangle was familiarly known as the "cursed corner."
"South of the open space, on the Newburgh road, a store was kept by Thomas McClelland; the place is still known as McClelland's corners. His wife was a sister to General Clinton's second wife, Mrs. Gray, and their house and little store and several acres of land were donated to them by the General. This act of generosity was charged to Mrs. Clin- ton's account, with more justice perhaps than her presumed interference in Mrs. Strachan's case. Mrs. McClelland was a quick-tempered, ner-
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vous lady. She was generally esteemed by her neighbors, and had an ex- cellent family. John McClelland, of Newburgh, was her son.
"The little piece of land occupied by the McClelland family, with what I have described before, covers the whole Clinton tract, save one acre deeded to my father in trust for myself, by my grand-father, Ed- ward Miller, on the day of my birth, in compliment for my name, and half an acre on the opposite side of the road owned by Janet McNeely. My acre was situated on the corner of a road then running south from the residence of William Sly, and the road leading from the Newburgh and Goshen road to the village of Montgomery. My claim to it was respected by General Clinton, when my grand-father removed from the place, and my father afterward sold it to William McDowell and gave me the price when I became of age. James Shaw now owns the farm my great-grandfather, Robert Buchanan, raised his family on, adjoining the old Clinton farm on the south.
"One of my father's near neighbors was Major William Sly. He was the youngest son, I think, of the Irish immigrant who settled on the land his son William owned when I first remember him .* He had brothers, Samuel and John-the latter was dead when I first remember anything about them. John, before his death owned the eastern portion of the farm his father had settled on. William owned the west end. The whole laid from half a mile to a mile and a half west of the New- burgh and Goshen road, and joined the Clinton tract on the south. John Sly's widow lived on the farm until I was quite a large boy. The family consisted of John, Letitia, Catharine, Janet, Hamilton, Rob- ert and William. There was another member of the family-Jen- ny, an old, faithful and very respectable woman, who was a slave. Every Sunday, when the weather was not inclement, the widow and family passed our house on their way to the Wallkill church, or as many old people called it, the Wallakill church. Like the majority of the farmers in those days, Mrs. Sly and her family went to church in a two- horse farm wagon. Herself and the driver (generally one of her sons) took the front seat; then the balance of the white portion of the family were ranged in couples on kitchen chairs, and in the rear of all, "Aunt Jenny," the slave. A few of the more wealthy farmers went to church in a two-wheeled covered carriage called a chair ; but Mrs. Sly's mode and the manner of placing the passengers was the common way of going to church in the neighborhood, and may be related in connection with other families.
"William Sly, "the Major," as he was always spoken of, was quite a
* Samuel Sly, the father of William, bought of William Young, June 10, 1757-
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leading man in the neighborhood. He married Nancy Barber, a member of another family of early immigrants, Patrick Barber. They had three children, Charles H., Arthur B. and Maria. The last married a Dill. Charles, like his father, was called "the Major," for many years before his death. He was in the military service in the war of 1812, and his father was engaged in the war of the Revolution. The "old Major" was one of the old men of my childhood that I liked to be with, and his wife, Aunt Nancy, was a genial old lady. Major Sly was always active at public meetings, Fourth of July celebrations, etc. He was a good speak- er. though some accused him of an endeavor to be too ornate, and with using too many adjectives.
"On the Goshen road, about eleven miles from Newburgh, was a tavern called the Rock Tavern, which was for many years a place of re- sort for the people of the surrounding district, both for local gatherings and public meetings. On one occasion, when it was owned by John Kerr, the neighbors held a Fourth of July celebration there. Kerr was captain of a uniformed company of artillery in the district, and as his tavern was selected for the celebration, his artillery company was natur- ally brought out and formed a conspicuous part of the show. Major Sly was officer of the day. A committee of arrangements sat in the par- lor of the hotel on one side of a hall which opened on a stoop on the second story. Captain Kerr's company was drawn up on the rock in front of the house, with its cannon ready to assert the patriotism of its owners. All seemed to be anxiously waiting for some expected event, when Major Sly appeared on the stoop and, after waving a flag as a signal of attention, said: "Captain Kerr, I am ordered, sir, by the com- mittee of arrangements, to request you to have thirteen rounds fired from the democratic muzzle of your republican cannon!" The cannon im- mediately responded, the people huzzaed, and the Major retired as he came.
"Another old man who was quite familiar with our family was John Kelso. He was sometimes called Captain Kelso. He once had com- mand of a sloop on Hudson's river. "Uncle John" was a man whom children avoided, not on account of any mental stateliness, but in obedi- ence to his own wish not to be "bothered with young ones." Rough as a native diamond, he was a diamond indeed. No man had a kinder heart than he, though he would accompany his acts of generosity with : "Here, take that, and don't bother me again!" Kelso was by birth an Irishman, as were nearly all of the people in the neighborhood. The entrance to his farm was by a private road opposite the residence of Rob- ert Burnet. He married Betsey Buchanan, a daughter of Robert Bu-
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chanan .* He had three children-Polly, Elkhanna, and James, all now dead. I believe some of his descendants now reside in Walden. They were a noble family.
"Another family that comes to me from the past was named Morrison, William and John were the old stock of that neighborhood. They were natives of the Emerald Isle, and succeeded in accumulating much prop- erty for that day. John kept a tavern and distillery on the Goshen road about ten miles from Newburgh, and after him two of his sons success- ively continued the business .** They were leading men in the town, the church, and the Masonic lodge. John was a strong Federalist, and one of the fields on his farm was called the "Jayite field," from the fact that the Federal party once held a grand celebration there in honor of the election of John Jay to the office of Governor.
"I think I am correct in saying that the old stock of Little Britain were very orthodox, in the Calvanistic understanding of that word. They were also very intolerant. The Westminster catechism was taught in the public school that I attended, to the exclusion, most of the time, of the English grammar. There was only one Methodist family in the neighborhood, Stephen Woolsey, and his child, Elijah, was taunted by playmates with his parents' heresy. Methodism, then, was held in about the same repute that Spiritualism is now. Camp meetings were be- lieved to be places of debauchery and wickedness which all Calvanistic parents would not permit their young people to attend; prayer meet- ings were held to be an abomination, and the thought that any one should be "converted" at one of them was a constant nightmare to the faithful of other faiths. Although this ancient prejudice has somewhat softened, I believe that the sect of the Wesleys' has never taken a very deep root in Little Britain.
"From a period long before my birth, Andrew King occupied the pul- pit of the Wallkill (or Goodwill) church; he died during my boyhood. Soon after his death his place was supplied by a clergyman named Gray. Mr. Gray was liked very much at first, and it was supposed that he would be installed as pastor. Some of the more critical members, how- ever, ascertained in some way that he was a Hopkinsian. This was ter- rible. A heterodox wolf had crept into the fold of Andrew King and might devour some of his lambs. The story was whispered around at
*Buchanan was an early settler. His name was spoken as if written Bo-hon-on, the h distinctly aspirated. He was a soldier under Charles Clinton in the old French war. He was killed by the falling of a tree chopped by his son William and a man named Beattie. He owned the farm now owned by James Shaw, as stated elsewhere.
** John Morrison's distillery was erected in 1794.
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first, but rapidly gained voice. Mr. Gray had a powerful party in the church who denied the charge most vehemently. The quarrel became intense, and friends and even families were divided. The members of the congregation in western Little Britain were parties to it, and it was only ended by the withdrawal from the church of Mr Gray's friends, who organized the "Berea" church. Mr. Gray left the field, however, before the new church was completed .*
"I never heard the attempt made to explain Hopkinsianism but once, and that was by an old gentleman, John Chambers, who had a farm and blacksmith shop a little way from Morrison's tavern. I speak of Mr. Chambers respectfully, for he and his family have, I think, passed away. He was a warm opponent to Mr. Gray and of Hopkinsianism. Some of the Gray party was ill-natured and charged that the longer Chambers tarried at Morrison's the more vehement he became in his opposition. I will not say this, but it happened that, on one occasion he had evident- ly visited that source of theological and political inspiration. He was talking with Hector King, and the latter, not taking much interest in the matter, wanted to get away. At length he said: "Chambers, you are very abusive of Mr. Gray and of Hopkinsianism, now I wish you to tell me what is the peculiar heterodoxy of that faith ; in what does it differ from what we all believe?" "Certainly," said Chambers, "if you do not know I will tell you." Bracing himself against the fence and throwing out his tobacco, he continued: "Well, you know that Adam fell, and Jesus Christ came to save all who would believe on him. Well,
Hopkinsianism comes from Hopkins ; he believed"-"What did he be- lieve?" asked King; Chambers having stopped to take in a supply of tobacco. "Well," said Chambers, " I can't say that I can tell that off just like a minister ; all I have to say is, damn Hopkinsianism. ! "
"James Scrimgeour was a good, honest old Scoth minister. I re- member him well. He occupied the pulpit of Little Britain church for a good many years. He was wont to appear before his congregation with a pure white vest upon him, each pocket of which he would have filled with Scotch snuff. He would commence his sermon in a calm and guarded enunciation, couched in excellent English. Little by little, he warmed up, and as he warmed he would draw from his pocket an immaculate white handkerchief and into it would empty the contents of his nose. Then his right-hand thumb and finger would convey a quanti- ty of snuff from the right vest pocket to his right-hand nostril; then his left-hand thumb and finger would follow suit from the left pocket and supply his left nostril. Then he would speak with more earnestness and
*See Church History.
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with a Scotch accent. Presently and successively frequent the same operations would be repeated, and in the end we would have a shower of snuff and broad Scotch, and a vest and a handkerchief the color of which I will not attempt to describe. I remember them much better than I do his sermons, which were decidedly doctrinal.
"The people of Little Britain were much more addicted to the use of intoxicating drinks, in old times, than at present. While wines and brandies had some use, whiskey, or "apple brandy," was the stimulant of the great majority. Joseph I. Houston was the only "teetotaller" that I knew when a boy. At a comparatively late day, Stephen Rapalje moved into the neighborhood and cut his hay without having liquor on the field. This was denounced as barbarous and mean at the time, but has many followers now. From the cradle to the grave, and at the grave, the use of liquors was considered indispensable. It was fed to infants, and taken daily by children, as well as by men and women; and the only time I was intoxicated in my life, was at a funeral where I par- took of what had been left in the glasses of those who had taken part in the exercises of the occasion.
"True to an education common to all nationalties, many of the old people were firm believers in witches, ghosts, and all other inhabitants of the invisible world so well known and so often seen in Ireland and Scotland. There was one spot in particular, in our neighborhood, around which, in the opinion of old and young, four troubled spirits perambulated nightly, and were said to be often seen by several old men on their way home from "Morrison's," and whose powers of vision were apparently intensified by the lateness of the hours of their stay at that place of resort. The story had its origin in fact. "Old Mrs. Perry," (that is the only name I ever heard for her), and three grand-children, occupied a miserable cabin, in the last quarter of the last century, situat- ed in one of my grandfather's fields, on an eminence which was long known as "Perry's hill." It had not been cultivated for many years, when I first knew it, and had grown up to a second growth of red oak trees from four to six inches in diameter. A perpendicular slate rock. about four feet high, carried the marks of the fire-place against it for
*A very great reform has overtaken the district in this respect. The Rev. James M. Dickson, a pastor of Goodwill Church. in his historical sermon, savs: "The study of the period covered by our narrative shows that as the generations have come and gone there have been great advances in morality. The records of the early sessions and other church courts show that a vast amount of discipline had to be exercised in consequence of drunkenness and more heinous sins. Now it is a rare thing, with all the evil that is abroad, to find a call for such action on account of flagrant vices. Verily there has been progress."
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a long time after the cabin was removed, and three or four rods from it were the graves of the old lady and the children, nameless and unknown. The tradition about them was that their blood ran in no ones veins in the country. They were aliens, and strangers, and miserably poor, and depended principally on the charity of the neighborhood for support. In the cold winter of 1779-80, there was one storm of great violence which lasted several days. The snow fell to an unusual depth, and exceeding cold winds banked it up in heaps, in some places six and eight feet. It was one or two days after the subsidence of the storm before the neigh- bors could dig their way out, and when this was done they thought of the woman and children. Their good intentions came too late; when they reached the cabin its inmates were found lying together, on their bed, dead. The storm had been kind to them in its unkindness by remov- ing them from charities which were even colder than its searching blasts. The Grandmother lay with her arm and part of her body over them, as if trying to lend them the warmth of her body to preserve their lives. There was sympathy enough for the poor things when it was no longer needed; and it is not improbable that many felt a little twitching of con- science at the manner in which they had neglected their duty to them. Be this as it may, the popular belief was that the spirits of the frozen dead came with troubled face to the cabin window, and that the moaning cries of the helpless sufferers were heard by ears that never listened to them while they were in life.
"My own boyish head was full of the story, which, though old, was new to me, and I very naturally kept pretty clear of "Perry's hill." Af- ter my apprenticeship began, I scouted my owardice. Ghosts? There could be no such thing! In this happy frame of mind, I started one night to visit my parents. I was on foot and alone, and before I reach- ed the hill, along whose base the road ran, it was quite dark. It was a cold autumn evening; the fields and forests were stripped of their ver- dure; the dead leaves cracked under my feet ; all my surroundings were suggestive of the wailing ghosts that were said to nightly walk hand in hand around their place of bodily sepulture. As I neared the grave- spot, I became wonderfully conscious of some unnatural presence; I dared not look to the right or the left ; every sound startled me. I knew I was not afraid, and yet
"The cudgel in my nieve did shake-
Each bristled hair stood like a stake."
"I reasoned with myself in vain ; the argument against the possibility of ghosts was good, but my nature was very weak. In the midst of my mental debate, came the sound, 'Who!', and then a chuckling sound above
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my head, and a seemingly responsive voice howled upon the air, 'Whoo! Whoo! Hoo!' For an instant I was without power to move-the blood fled in a torrent to my heart. Though in a moment I knew that my alarmant was an owl, it took hours to regain my composure. The ghosts. have doubtless been forgotten in the neighborhood, but I shall ever re- member my experience on that occasion.
"When one looks over the beautiful fields of Orange County at the present day and compares them with what they were seventy years ago, will not fail to accord credit to the present generation of farmers. After having helped to settle three new states, I must give it as my opinion that my native town required more energy and heroism to reclaim it from the wilderness than any locality west of the Alleghany Mountains. In looking over the smooth prairies and easily subdued forests of the west, and glancing back to the stony, rocky hard soil of dear old Little Britain, one must wonder how men could have had the heroism to undertake the building of homes there, especially with such limited implements as were then in use and at their command. Even in my day, a hundred years after its settlement, the farms were rough, the farming implements rude, and the people generally poor. I have seen many a harvest cut with sickles, and men and women engaged in using them. 'Cradles,' it is true, were used as long ago as I can remember, but very few were owned in the old neighborhood, and very few knew how to use them or cared to learn. They were not generally liked; cradling was called a wasteful slovenly way of gathering grain. The principal crop was Indian corn ; that and grass gave food for cows and pigs; butter and pork were the staple exports. The first patent plow in the neighborhood was brought there by Samuel W. Wood. It was Tice's or Freeborn's, I don't remem- ber which; it was received with great caution by the farmers as a thing that would soon break to pieces. Of iron-tooth harrows there were a few ; but most people preferred those of wood teeth, as a break could be more early repaired. It was very common to see rye covered, after it was sown, by a bush top. There was no talk then about the ten hour system. Farm hands were up at daylight and worked as long as they could see in the evening. The women milked the cows and performed a great deal of slavish labor, perhaps not to their discredit or special dis- comfort-it was a part of their life. Threshing was performed with the 'flail,' and the cleaning up was by a miserable contrivance called a fanning mill-a machine that occupied twice as much space as those now used. Every farmer did not have one, and if he could not borrow, cleaned his grain with a 'riddle' in the wind. This was considered an excellent way to quell a hurricane. Old James Strachan used to say that no matter
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