see Swart page for corrections to that family

His boyhood and youth were spent in Jefferson, Schoharie County, N. Y., and with only the advantages that the rural school afforded. Lincoln fitted himself and obtained a certificate to teach. Mr. Long's first teaching position was at Youngs Station in Sidney, N. Y. It was during his term here in 1885 that Lincoln Long married Philinda Young of that village. This union resulted in five children. While teaching a country district school, he continued his self-preparation and qualified for high school work. Accepting the principalship of the Hancock High School, he remained in that village for seven years.

While in Hancock, Mr. Long became deeply interested in religious work and took up theological studies in hours of leisure and became a lay preacher of the Methodist Church. Being admitted to the New York Methodist conference, Mr. Long resigned the principalship of the Hancock school to become pastor of the Callicoon Methodist Church, where he remained for four and a half years. On leaving Callicoon he was pastor of the New Paltz Methodist Church for a time.

He then resigned from this position to resume teaching, and served as principal of the Walden High School for the next four years; then he accepted a call to Trinity Church in Kingston, N. Y. From Kingston he was assigned as pastor of the Margaretville, N. Y., Church, where he preached for another four years. Wishing to make this community his home, at the close of his pastorate he stayed on as the head of the high school for a year, then accepted the superintendency of the school supervisory district and continued in that endeavor for six years.

In 1918, Lincoln Long's friends urged him to enter the primary as a Republican candidate for the New York State Assembly. His character, ability, and wide acquaintance won him the nomination without a contest; he was five times re-elected, an honor unique in the annals of Delaware County. In the Assembly he commanded attention as a master of the educational problem, serving as chairman of the committee on public instruction and also interesting himself in moral measures and enactments helping the youth of the state.

Loving the out-of-doors, on his retirement from public life Mr. Long exchanged his home in Margaretville with Thomas Winter for a farm in the New Kingston valley. There, to give play to an active mind, he took up practical surveying, wrote historical sketches of old families in which the quaint humor of his bubbling spirit found expression, and ministered to those whom his kindly nature could aid.

After several months of failing health, Lincoln Long died on May 11, 1927.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Many people helped to make this book possible. I would like to give special thanks to my wife, June, and her mother, Fran, who have been invaluable as researchers and as a sounding board in the compiling of this historical work. They encouraged me out of MY complacency to undertake this momentous adventure and saw it through to its conclusion.

These sketches first appeared in The Catskill Mountain News in 1925

INTRODUCTION

America today is comprised of a transient populace, and there is great concern that we are also a people of the jet age. I have often referred to the pastoral Catskill Mountains as one of the last Frontiers in the East, not only because of the babbling brooks, forests, and open fields, but also because the life style and ideals of the frontier and an interest in "roots" are still here in the people of the Catskills, running against the grain of black-top, high-rise, coast-to- coast America. It is in this spirit of an America where family and "roots" are still important that this collection is presented.

This volume will allow those of you who are Catskill Mountain natives and present residents to get better acquainted with your own family roots and also those of your friends and neighbors. For the non-resident reader the book will be an interesting historical trip, showing from where a piece of America came. From Queen Anne's bequest in 1708 through the present, the growth of this piece of America is retraced.
-G.M.P.

CONTENTS
Lincoln R. Long
Acknowledgment
Introduction

NEW KINGSTON:  GREAT LOT NUMBER FORTY OF THE HARDENBURGH PATENT
 CAME INTO BEING IN 1708                                    1
ROBERT LIVINGSTON GAVE FIVE THOUSAND ACRES TO SUFFERERS AFTER
 THE: BURNING OF KINGSTON IN 1777                           3
THE NEW KINGSTON TRACT WAS LAID OUT BETWEEN 1784-1786       6
THE LIVINGSTONS WERE PATRIOTS                               8
HISTORY FROM THE PEOPLE                                    11
THE STORY OF THE VAN BENSCHOTENS                           13
THE EARLIEST SETTLERS OF NEW KINGSTON                      15
MORE ABOUT THE EARLY SETTLERS OF NEW KINGSTON              19
HISTORY GATHERED FROM GRAVESTONES                          22
THE BIG FOREST AND THE LOST BABY                           25
WHICH IS THE OLDEST HOUSE IN NEW KINGSTON                  28
SCOTTISH SETTLERS IN NEW KINGSTON VALLEY                   31
WILLIAM COWAN SETTLED HERE ABOUT 1825                      34
ECHOES OF OLDEN TIMES ALONG THE PLATTEKILL                 37
NEW KINGSTON SCHOOLS OF LONG AGO                           40
A STORY OF THE SETTLING OF WEAVER HOLLOW                   43
WAS ADAM DOUGLASS THE FIRST SCOTCHMAN?                     46
THOMAS ELLIOTT AND HIS DESCENDANTS                         49
FIRST ARCHIBALDS SETTLED IN BOVINA                         52
THE SANFORD FAMILY'S ANCESTRAL LINE                        55
THE HENDERSONS OF NEW KINGSTON VALLEY                      58
THE DUMONDS IN THE NEW KINGSTON VALLEY                     62
NEW KINGSTON'S STONE HOUSE AND THE HEWITT FAMILY           66
EARLY NEW KINGSTON SCHOOL RECORDS                          71
REMINISCENCES OF THE ANTI-RENT DAYS                        75
THE SWART FAMILY                                           78
MORE ABOUT THE DUMONDS                                     81
THE ONCE BEAUTIFUL DICKSON HOME, NOW DESERTED              82
THE WINTER FAMILY OF NEW KINGSTON                          86
ECHOES FROM THE OUTSIDE WORLD                              90
THE NEW KINGSTON VILLAGE OF YEARS AGO                      92
REMINISCENCES OF JACK THORP                                95
THE INGLES OF NEW KINGSTON                                 98
THE DUNRAVEN SANFORDS                                     101
A CONVERSATION WITH CHAUNCEY HULL OF HUBBELL HILL         105
WHAT MEAN THESE STONES?                                   108
Epilog

NEW KINGSTON: GREAT LOT NUMBER FORTY OF THE HARDENBURGH PATENT CAME INTO BEING IN 1708

IF YOU WILL GO up the state road from Margaretville about two miles, when you get just beyond the farm of Andrew Archibald (the old Austin farm now owned by Robert Fredenburgh) you will notice a stone wall running straight between the farm and the farm of David Sliter. Now, if you will follow that line you will find that it runs straight on over the hills between the two farms of Byron Searle, just south of the old Bouton farm and the Sanford farm, then on over into New Kingston valley.

If your courage is still good and you will keep on over the next ridge into Weaver Hollow, you will come out, when you have gone some eighteen miles, just above the village of Delhi on the West Branch of the Delaware River. And then you have traversed the southerly boundary of Great Lot No. 40.

You should now follow up the river to a point below Bloomville, but as I cannot direct you just where to start from to return, you had better come back and go on up the river from where you started, on above Halcottville about a mile, where you may ask Arthur Miller to show you where the line is between Roxbury and, Middletown. This line follows the old Desbrosses line, surveyed in 1776, and will take you along the northern side of the great lot, bringing you out below Bloomville as stated before. The area included will be
between forty thousand and forty-five thousand acres.

In the year 1708, Queen Ann of England granted to Johannes Hardenburgh and others a large tract of land west of the Hudson River and lying in what is now Ulster, Sullivan, Delaware, and Greene Counties and gave them a charter, or, as it was called, a patent.

I am not sure whether any part of any other county was included within the bounds of the patent or not. The proprietors divided up the territory among themselves in 1749, and the larger divisions are termed "great lots," of which there appear to be over fifty, although I cannot locate them all on the map. Margaretville lies in great lot 39, while across the river is No. 7. Fleischmanns is in No. 8, while Roxbury is in No. 41 on one side of the river and No. 19 on the other. These great lots were subdivided into tracts and disposed of by the proprietors to others, and these tracts were further subdivided into lots which make up the basis of a large part of the farms in this region. While some farms are described independently of lot lines, a large number are described also by telling that they are all or parts of certain lots. If the early settlers were on the ground before the lot lines were fixed and had their land cleared and fenced, then their farms might be described according to what they held and their fences do not always show lot lines. But in very many cases one can find and follow old lot lines for miles. In such cases it is easy to survey these back farms where, often times, no fences have been built through the forests.

Our own farm (presently owned by Douglas Condon) lies in the Janet Montgomery tract and includes all of lot 85 and part of lot 84. I say all of lot 85, but really the line was moved over this side of the lot line about ten or twelve rods. This remained quite a puzzle to me, why a certain lot line seemed to have a jog in it, until Mr. Robert Winter of Margaretville explained the following to me. Prior to leasing, the land had been< settled and farmers frequently cleared land on an adjacent lot also, thus creating a change in the original lot lines. Next week I shall have a bit of interesting history concerning the Montgomery tract and some of the Livingston tracts to tell you. I did not realize, until of late, that we were living on land once held by historic personages. I fear that when I tell about the giver of the old first lease for the farm next to ours, the present owner may get vain and take care to preserve the old, old lease made nearly one hundred years ago.

ROBERT LIVINGSTON GAVE FIVE THOUSAND ACRES TO SUFFERERS AFTER THE BURNING OF KINGSTON IN 1777

SOMEWHAT MORE than a century and a half ago, a young man (Richard Montgomery) who had since the age of eighteen been an officer in the English army and had served with distinction in severe conflicts, emigrated to America. He came to the province of New York to make his home, met and fell in love with a young woman of high family (Janet Livingston), and in 1772 they were married. They made their home a little back from the Hudson River across from Kingston with every prospect of lifelong happiness.

And then came the Revolution. The battle of Lexington proclaimed that a struggle between the mother country and her colonies had begun which could only end with the complete subjugation or independence of the latter. The young man just mentioned was made a member of the Congress of the New York Province which met in 1775. That Congress made him a general with orders to go with General Schuyler to strike a blow at England by invading Canada.

General Schuyler fell ill, and the entire command of the expedition devolved upon the newly made general and he proved equal to the charge. Montgomery led his army into Canada, conquering everywhere, until he stood before the defenses of Quebec, where he was joined by another division under Benedict Arnold. An assault upon the works was made, and Montgomery fell at the head, of his column. In New York City is a monument to his memory erected by the state, and there his remains lie as a memorial to his heroism.

For Janet Livingston there were three years of happiness and then this tragedy. It is an old story that has been often repeated. And this tells you the circumstances leading to the origin of the Janet Montgomery Tract, Great Lot 40, Hardenburgh Patent.

Robert Livingston came to possess several lots of the aforesaid patent. These lots descended to his only son, Robert R. Livingston, who seems to have had a large family. He made no division of his lands among his children and his eldest son, also named Robert, in 1779 proceeded to male the allotment. He prepared twelve slips of paper and separated the lands into twelve portions and numbered the slips accordingly. Then there was a drawing, and Janet Livingston Montgomery drew one slip for what is known as the Janet Montgomery Tract. And this is how it is described in the county clerk's office at Delhi.

The starting point is the northwest comer of the 5000 acre tract known as the New Kingston Tract and which was donated by Robert Livingston for the benefit of the sufferers who were made destitute when Kingston was burned by the British in 1777. That would be where the E. H. Birdsall farm (presently owned by Hans Schoenfeld) corners with the farm of Bert Halleck (now owned by Norman Robbins) along one side of the farm of Robert Ingles (the present Nelson Gray farm).

From there the line runs between the first two named farms, then between the farms of Thomas Ingles (George Jensen) and William Adee (the Dave Crawford farm), then between Harry O'Connor and George Wickham (Albert Wickham), E. D. O'Connor (Lloyd O'Connor) and Frank Ingles (Sol Romm), on over through Bragg Hollow to Pacatakan River at the lower edge of Halcottville.

From Halcottville the line follows up the river to the old Desbrosses line mentioned last week, follows that line westward until it strikes the Fishkill River near Bloomville and then goes down the river towards Delhi until the tract is 198 chains wide and then turns and runs parallel with the Desbrosses line until it again touches the New Kingston Tract where the farm of John Tuttle (Douglas Hoy) corners next to the farm of Joseph Adee (the J. W. Tweedie farm). From there it follows along the New Kingston line and the lines of John Tuttle and Robert Ingles to the starting point. The whole tract would comprise something over twenty thousand acres.

Looking at the map published by the Conservation Commission, I note that the tract was cut up into small lots numbered as high as 123 which is mainly owned by William Elliott. The lots run from 100 to over 200 acres each. Away back as far as Delaware County records go, I find that Janet Montgomery sold or leased these lots to different individuals and later that lots in this same tract were leased or sold by other persons always Livingstons. From this I infer that she never married again and that she had no children as heirs. Doubtless those who sold or leased these later lots were brothers or sisters or sisters-in-law.

Here are some of the lots owned in this vicinity: lot 118, John Tuttle; lot 119, Robert Ingles; lot 120, James T. Elliott (now J. William Elliott); 85 and part of 84, Frank Long (Douglas Condon); parts 82, 83, and 86, George Robertson (now Kenneth Robertson); 89 and 96, Harry O'Connor; 91, Thomas ingles; 92, James Miller (the Harold Everitt farm). And that is as far as I dare go for fear I may get them wrong. Next week I hope to give you a copy of an old lease with a bit of interesting history connected with the giver.

I noticed with interest that our East Branch is called Pacatakan River. In another old deed of years ago, I found it called the Popakunk, while in a history of Delaware County it is given Popagonk. Also the deed of the tract mentioned the fact that the place where the Desbrosses line starts, just above Arthur Miller, was nearly half a mile below where the path from Batavia to Pacatakan crossed the Kill. As Pacatakan was located just above Calvin Davis, it must have meant the path from up in Vega to that village. It certainly could not have been the state road.

THE NEW KINGSTON TRACT WAS LAID OUT BETWEEN 1784-1786

KINGSTON WAS SETTLED shortly after 1665. The first state convention met at Fishkill and adjourned to Kingston and there framed the first state constitution. That was in February 1777.

In September of that year the state legislature met in Kingston, but upon learning that the British General Sir Henry Clinton was approaching with an armed force, quickly adjourned. One afternoon in October a single horseman rode into Kingston and stopped at one of the houses and asked to be allowed to stay over night, pleading that he was ill and saying that he was a schoolteacher. The kind-hearted woman of the house took him in and gave him the guest room upstairs. Her husband upon returning home declared that the man was a British spy and said that men were coming after him in the morning.

Fearing that the good wife still believed the story of the traveler and that she would warn him to flee, the husband lay on his wife's cloak when they went to rest, intending not to sleep much himself. Evidently, everyone slept ready for flight in the event of the approach of the enemy. But in the night the husband fell into so sound a slumber that the wife succeeded in slipping away from him and went up to tell the teacher of his danger. He was dressed and preparing for flight. He told her he had heard what was said the night before, and that he was in truth a British spy, but that if she would allow him to escape, their home should not be molested. In the morning when the men came to arrest him, their bird had flown.

And then on October 17 came the awful devastation. Every home but one in the city was destroyed by fire at the hands of the British, and even that one was not the home of the good woman who had befriended the stranger. History records few more wanton acts of unnecessary brutality than the burning of the houses of the inoffensive inhabitants of Kingston.

About the same time, the home of Robert R. Livingston near Rhinebeck was burned, also by the British. Through his own loss, feeling deeply the sufferings of the homeless citizens, he aided them with building materials and also offered to the trustees of the commonality 5000 acres of land to be selected by them anywhere in the Hardenburgh Patent, except Woodstock or Shandaken, stipulating only that it should be laid out in a perfect square. This land was to be for the benefit of the people who had lost their homes in the fire. Strangely enough the trustees of Kingston made no immediate move to locate the offered tract, and Mr. Livingston felt impelled to write urging them to hasten. Finally they sent Peter Dumont, Jr. and Peter Hynpagh with Mr. Livingston's surveyor, Mr. Cockburn, to choose a suitable tract; the selection was made in Great Lot number forty where New Kingston now is. Mr. Livingston gave a deed for the area in 1782, five years after the burning of the city.

In 1784 the trustees sent Johannes Van Benschoten and Tobias Van Beuren with Mr. Cockburn to survey out the tract. Mr. Cockburn was to be supplied with everything he needed for his maintenance and comfort, and the two who accompanied him were to receive eight shillings (one dollar) a day exclusive of food and liquor.

The tract was laid out into fifty-acre lots which were grouped in ten classes of ten lots each for convenience of allotment. The final allotment was made in 1786, nine years after the fire.

Considering the tract as it is today, it is apparently a square as provided. If you start from the north corner of the farm of Bert Halleck (Norman Robbins) and go towards the East Branch of the Delaware River, when you reach the top of the ridge between the New Kingston valley and Bragg Hollow, you should there find the eastern corner of the tract about two and four-fifths miles from the starting point. Turning at a right angle and going the same distance, you will stop somewhere near the home of Harold Faulkner (Charles Holdridge) and his mother. From there you will cross the Plattekill and climb the hill past the Oscar Russell farm and slip down into Weaver Hollow and then come over between John Tuttle (Douglas Hoy) and Joseph Adee (J. W. Tweedie), Robert Ingles (Nelson Gray) and Bert Halleck, to the place of beginning. The New Kingston village is about the center of the tract.

I hope soon to be able to give the names of some of the early settlers with points on the subsequent history of the settlement of the tract. In the old records at Kingston, I noted some familiar names among those who received allotments such as: Swart, DeLametter, Van Steenburg, Houghteling, Freer, Dumont, Burhans, Hamilton and others.

THE LIVINGSTONS WERE PATRIOTS

MUCH OF THE LAND in the Janet Montgomery tract was leased to the early settlers instead of being sold. Whether this was because the settlers had little money or because the owners wished to hold to the title of the land, I do not know.

Too much space would be needed to give you a copy of a land lease, but in the main they were drawn up like a deed, except that a yearly rent was to be paid instead of a specified amount for the complete ownership. So long as the tenant paid the rent he could hold the land, and there are still (in 1924) two or three farms in New Kingston valley paying rent to the heirs of the original lease holders. Here is the rent requirement of one of these old leases: Yielding and paying therefor, yearly and every year, unto the aforesaid of the first part, her heirs or assigns, the yearly rent of two fat hens and one day's labor with a wagon, sled or plough, together with a yoke of oxen, or pair of horses, and a driver, at such time and place within ten miles as the party of the first part, her heirs or assigns, shall require.

By paying one dollar and twenty-five cents and twenty bushels of wheat the tenant could be released from the payment just described, and in an old lease still preserved by a neighbor, a certain fixed sum of money could be given instead of the rent described.

The lease still kept by my neighbor was given in 1829 by Edward Livingston of Louisiana, acting through his attorney in this region. I was somewhat puzzled because the farm thus leased lies in the Janet Montgomery tract, and I supposed the Livingstons lived down near Rhinebeck in Dutchess County. But I have found out about it all right.

In the first place, Janet Montgomery died before this lease was given. As she had no children, her property was left by her to her youngest brother, Edward Livingston. Then I hunted up a book on the Livingstons and found out how Edward Livingston came to be in Louisiana. As it is an interesting story, I will pass it on to you.

When Kingston was destroyed Edward Livingston was a young man and was attending the school of one "Dominic Doll" in Kingston. He walked the eighteen miles from his home in Clermont each Monday and walked back on Saturday. When the city was burned, the school was moved outside on account of the coming of the British.

When he grew up he became a lawyer and was a member of Congress for two or three terms. He was then made United States attorney for the district of New York and soon after was made Mayor of New York City. During his administration, the city was visited with a scourge of yellow fever, and Mr. Livingston stayed by his people, visiting and working among them regardless of the danger to himself. Finally he took the disease, and he was so much beloved that young men almost fought for the privilege of being his attendants.

After his recovery he found that an officer under him had embezzled, so that Livingston was short of money to square up with the general government. Livingston immediately resigned his post, turned over all his property to pay towards his debt, and left the city owing the United States one hundred thousand dollars.

As we had just come into possession of New Orleans and the whole territory then known as Louisiana, he turned to the new region to start life anew. He took up his profession of law in New Orleans and, as ready money was scarce in the new country, he often took land in payment. Eventually he paid up all his indebtedness and accumulated a moderate fortune for himself and family.

When New Orleans was attacked by the British in The War of 1812, he held a prominent position in the city government. It was Livingston who received General Jackson, who had come to defend the town, and became a member of his staff. The friendship then formed between them was a lasting one and served Livingston well when Jackson later became President of the Republic.

General Jackson became very fond of Mr. Livingston's little daughter, Cora, while in New Orleans. And after she became a woman he still held his fondness, addressing her by her given name, Cora, as when she was a child. This was the Cora Barton who held the leases after the death of her parents until those in this region were bought by Mr. W. B. Peters of Bloomville, whose heirs still retain them.

Mr. Livingston rewrote the entire criminal law of the State of Louisiana and his law works received wide recognition, not only in this country, but also in France. After Jackson became President, Livingston was sent to France as Ambassador, and then the President, remembering his affection for the daughter, sent her a commission for her husband, Mr. Barton, appointing him as secretary to the new Ambassador.

After serving his country acceptably in France, Mr. Livingston returned home and settled on the family estate, where he died in 1836. Livingston deeds in the Montgomery tract and Mr. Livingston's original part of the lands alloted, as I have heretofore described, after 1836 were given by Louise (or as the old deeds give it "Loese") Livingston, his widow. Later, upon her death, the holdings descended to Mrs. Barton, who died childless, and that branch of the family became extinct.
So hereafter, when my neighbor farmer reads over the old lease and when in the summer we walk over the hills of the old tracts, we shall feel a bit more respect and even reverence for the soil, remembering that it came to us from the hands of some of the foremost patriots of the times, when our country was struggling for a beginning.

Robert R. Livingston, of whom I have said much, administered the oath of office to President Washington, and he was the French Ambassador when the whole western part of our United States was bought from Napoleon. He himself made almost the entire bargain and gave us room to expand to the Pacific Ocean and become a really great country.

If you are not weary of reading about these old historic facts, I may be able to supply a few more articles, but I should gladly hear from any of the old families of this region, old traditions or stories of the early settlers and their doings. I am sure it would be read with interest by all who know anything about our beautiful valley.

HISTORY FROM THE PEOPLE

BOOKS HAVE DONE about all they can for my writings, and now I must turn to the people of this valley for what more I get. It ought to be the very best of all, for it will deal with real life.

So now I appeal to every resident anywhere in this valley to help me with every story of any interest at all about the early settlers or about any time in the past. Incidents, stories, anything at all about the people who have lived in this valley or about old buildings will be good to get, and I will try to make it into material for this column.

Catch me at home, along the road, or anywhere and tell me all you ever heard about, whether you know it to be exact f act or not. It will be interesting at any rate and will be put into the column properly.

I have a man or two I am going to see this week for some promised material for next week. In the meantime, be thinking up all you can for me and this column. Stories and incidents about your own folks, when they came into the valley, will be acceptable and will find a place.

Some time I should like to print a list of each farm in the whole New Kingston Valley and its branches with the names of each occupant from its first clearing down to the present time. It ought to be very interesting and also valuable for preserving for future time.

That means that if you can hunt out your old deeds, which have come down to you from those who have owned the farm on which you live, I will have just the list I desire. I know no other way of getting anything like an accurate list, and I very much wish to secure it for this column.

Here is a sample. The farm known as the E.H. Birdsall farm was owned, according to the county records, first by Janet Montgomery as a part of the original tract, being lot No. 90. It was purchased by a man named Scott, later by William Clement, then by Richard Birdsall, E.H. Birdsall, Stanley Osterhoudt, Frank Long, and Ray Faulkner, (then William F. Yaple, J. Wallace Crawford, Douglas Condon, and presently Hans Schoenfeld). While dates would be sometimes interesting, they are not essential.

All that the history of Delaware County gives about the early settlement of the valley is that Johannes Delameter was first, followed later by Christian Yaple. Jacob Van Benschoten must have come about the same time. I hope to have a story about some of these for next week.

In looking over the old county clerk's records, I found that the Thomas Ingles farm was first bought by Isaac Delameter and his brother James or John, I have forgotten which; then it went to Andrew Miller. Somewhere in bounding, another farm was mentioned as being possessed by a Genera Hermance and once by a Mr. Telford. Perhaps some old resident may be able to explain it to me.

Drop me a card telling me you have something for me or call me on the phone, and I will come to see you. And, remember, don't be afraid to tell everything you heard even if it doesn't seem very important.

THE STORY OF THE VAN BENSCHOTENS

IN THE LITTLE burying ground on the knoll beyond the Dowle home (the present David Taylor farm), rest the remains of the first of the Van Benschotens of New Kingston. Jacob was without doubt the first to penetrate the unbroken forest after the survey of the tract. If we could but see for a moment the first home he built among the maples and pines, the picture would help us to better appreciate the times in which he lived and struggled.

Jacob Van Benschoten was a faithful soldier of his country during the Revolution and after the War was over, moved to a farm near where Margaretville now is. From there he traveled through the woods to the New Kingston Valley, blazing his path on trees that he might easily find his way back. For years afterward, this trail was known as "Uncle Jacob's Road."

His fifty acre farm was where the Dowie home now is, although many other fifty acre lots have since been added. Then the line ran just a little in front of where the house now stands, and in later years the adjoining land in front was owned by a man named Cunningham. Where the two pines now stand was once a hotel. The faint outline of the foundation is still visible.

No highways were there then. On horseback the grain for meal or flour must be taken to Woodstock or Kingston for grinding, some fifty miles. Wolves, panthers, and bears were numerous, and the story is told of, the daughter, Sally, being pursued to the house from the sheepfold by wolves several times. When they howled about the house at night, often the old army musket would be fired from the window to frighten them away. But in spite of all, the sturdy descendant of the rugged people who won much of their land from the sea by building it in, prospered and left a good farm for his son.

Four children were born to the family: two sons and two daughters. The first son died young, so that only one was left to perpetuate the family name. The three were: Sally, William, and Janet.

Sally was born in 1792. She was married to John Hewitt and seven children blessed their union. Through them the Van Benschoten line is connected with Hewitts, Faulkners, Birdsalls, Scotts, Sanfords and others.

William was born in 1800. He inherited the homestead and to him were born seven children. The eldest, Jacob, was the father of William Van Benschoten, who lived on the turnpike near Dunraven; Alexander, who lives below the village of New Kingston; and Almira, the widow of James A. Scott. The second, Huldah, joined the Reynolds name to the family line. John, the third in the family, went to California in "forty-nine" and became wealthy enough at mining to return and buy the old home. Of his children two are living: Mrs. Cornelius Swart of Dunraven, and Mrs. Robert Dowie on the old, original farm. Jane, the fourth, connected the family with the Dickmans of the town of Andes. Nelson, the fifth was the father of William Francis and Henry Oscar Van Benschoten, and Ruanna, the sixth, joined the family to the Yaple line-Cornelius and William being her descendants. Janet, the last of the original family, married into the Ackerly line and thus brought into the connection a long list of Ackerlys, Swarts, Kittles, etc.

One hundred years have gone since Jacob Van Benschoten left his life work to pass into the great beyond. Just a century ago last August the little graveyard on the hillside received his house of earth.

How his branches have stretched out within and outside the valley where he wrought. The character of the line has been stamped upon the community for the history of its people. Without attempting to boast we may say that New Kingston has drawn from the best of the world's stock in making up its inhabitants. Many of the names of the valley settlers are a positive inspiration to him who delights in records of real men and women who have struggled courageously to make homes and rear children in an honest Godly manner. May their lives be not forgotten.

It has not been the purpose of this writing to give a complete list of the descendants of the Van Benschoten line. Many of the younger members have not been mentioned by name. The motive has been rather to put into perspective the family lines that we may better know New Kingston by tracing the course and effect, of a stream from a single spring. This is just one line; others will follow.

THE EARLIEST SETTLERS OF NEW KINGSTON

LET US GO BACK to the year 1796 and see if we can follow "Uncle Jacob's Road" from where Margaretville now stands to the New Kingston Valley. The other day some one was guessing 'where the line of blazed trees ran to strike the Plattekill and surmised that Uncle Jacob would have gone up over the hill back of Frank Winter's (present Ketchum residence) and struck the Plattekill stream near where Olney Smith (Smith's Farm) now lives and from there follow up the Kill.

But this is my guess. I think he would naturally have followed up the Bull Run gully, and when he came to where Harry Sanford (Hubertus M. White) leaves the main road, he would have struck across and come out about where the Beaman Hill road joins the regular New Kingston highway. You see, his father was one of the men who assisted Cockburn in laying out the New Kingston tract and would have told him something of the lay of the land. What is your guess?

Anyway, let us hunt up the log cabin which stood just above where the Jacob Van Benschoten, which stood just above where the Dowie house (David Taylor) now is on the higher ground towards the village. He will be sure to keep us over night and let us sit before the blazing fireplace and will tell of his adventures in starting to carve out a home in the wilderness. And of the rude fare of the wild country, we shall be given the best the home affords.

In the morning let us follow on up the stream to the next fifty acre allotment where there is another log house standing quite close to the bank of the stream (not far from where the Bragg Hollow Road crossed the Plattekill). This house is said to have really been built a little before that of "Uncle Jacob". While the latter is considered the first to have struck into the giants of the New Kingston forests, it is believed that he kept his family by the Delaware while he made a clearing and got things ready a bit.

The family is astir when we reach the cabin, and we are invited to breakfast, and although we have already been fed, we cannot forbear to sit at the rude table hinged to the side of the room and eat some of the trout the good housewife slipped out and caught after the preparation for the morning meal had been begun. For it was no trick then to catch a trout from the Plattekill, and there were no game laws either.

Here is where Abram Johannes Delameter took up his fifty acre allotment of the New Kingston tract, and evidently had another added, for the farm now contains one hundred acres. And for the first time since it was cleared by the sturdy old Holland Dutchman, the farm has gone out of the line of his descendants, Elton Tait having bought it of James Winter (presently owned by Douglas Faulkner).

We find it already quite a clearing with a shack for a cow or two and with preparations being made for planting the crops of the year. How narrowly the children will watch the growing vegetables in the garden, for they get tired of eating meat and fish. And how tickled Avill they be when they can sit up to the table and eat "spawn and milk" from, perhaps, a wooden bowl with a wooden spoon.

They tell that among the early Dutch settlers of the Schoharie valley the housewife used to cook the mush and place it in a great bowl in the center of the table and make a pond in the center for the milk. Then the family would gather round and each would eat out for himself or herself a little hollow and then run a channel up to the pond of milk, and they would thus have a miniature system of feed canals for their individual bowls. The trouble came when one fast eater would cut into the one next to him. Then would be needed father's strong hand to keep peace. I know not if such was the custom among the early Dutch of New Kingston.

Picture the corn being ground in a mortar or being sent on horseback miles and miles for grinding into meal. I wonder if they had any wheat flour, any sugar cookies in those days. And did they know anything about tea and coffee?

Uncle Abram had a family of seven children. Sally Ann (I think the eldest) married a man named Rutherford. When William Van Benschoten returned from the gold country of California where he had so prospered, Rutherford caught the fever and started to make his fortune also. But on the Pacific Ocean he sickened and died and his body was committed to the deep, leaving his wife here to fight her battle of life alone. I believe there is a house in Margaretville still known as the Rutherford home, where she lived.

Another daughter one of the twins married James Chisholm, to whom were born three children: Margaret, who married Robert Winter and who is the mother of Frank and James Winter and Mrs. Andrew Russell; Sarah Ann, who married James Archibald, who lived where Gideon Robertson now lives; and Andrew Chisholm who lived at Croton, New York.

The wife of James died, and he liked the family so well he married the other of the twin daughters and to them was born our present James Chisholm. It is never safe in New Kingston to speak disrespectfully to any citizen about any other citizen of the valley, for you never know when you may be talking to a relative of the one you are talking about. I had never suspected that Mr. Chisholm was related to the Margaretville tonsorial artist (Reed Delameter), but fortunately, I had never critized one in the presence of the other.

Of the children of Abram Delameter I have little knowledge. If some descendant of the line should be able to supply more information, I shall be glad to tell it later. There was a son Brink and I think an Abram. One man said there used to live an Abram Delameter on the old crossroad between Bert Halleck and the Tuttle farm, and I have noticed two butternut trees standing near the brook where there is evidence of there having been a building at some time. Probably he was the son of our first settler. Where Reed Delameter comes in the line I forgot to ask when I was in town, and he will have to tell me later. And there are also other Delameters in Margaretville.

James Chisholm the elder used to be a Captain in the army, and you must have heard of the general trainings they used to have after the Revolutionary War and after the War of 1812. At some central place where the ground was level, they would meet and train the ablebodied citizens so as to be ready in case of another war. There on the flat of Abram Delarneter and also on the Chisholm farm where Andrew Van Benschoten (Roland Van Benschoten) lives, Captain Chisholm used to put the boys through the manual of arms and train them in marching and in military maneuvers.

There is another interesting matter of history of the Delameter farm. In the old days they used to hold town meetings there, and if the present town board grants to the voters of the New Kingston valley their petition for an election district with polling place in the New Kingston village, it will be merely returning to them a privilege their forefathers enjoyed many years ago. We hope they will allow history to thus repeat itself.

In as much as the Chisholm line has been intimately connected with the Delameter family, it will be proper in this article to mention the fact that Andrew Chisholm, grandfather of the present James Chisholm, cleared the Alexander Van Benschoten farm and erected the first buildings thereon. I believe they were near the present highway, and until quite recently, some of them were still standing. After the elder James
Chisholm married Rachel Delameter, he bought the Delameter farm and his brother William retained the old Chisholm farm. I intended to ask if he was the father or grandfather of Richard (Dick) Chisholm, which I presume to be the case.

In a previous article I mentioned having found in the office of the county clerk a record of the fact that the Thomas Ingles farm was owned formerly by Isaac and James Delameter, two brothers. They sold to Andrew Miller in 1847. 1 have failed to find out whether they were in any way related to the subject of this sketch or not. I shall be glad of any information relating thereto.

I have said that the log house of the old Delameter farm stood close to the stream of the Plattekill. About a hundred years ago a frame house displaced the old log building. It stood, also, at the left of the road near the evergreen patch set out by James Winter, and I have been told that the foundation is still there. Within the memory of Mrs. Margaret Winter, the house was drawn across the road to where it now stands (standing in 1924, now gone). It is without doubt one of the very oldest, if not the oldest, 'house in the
valley, being easily a century old.

The body of Abram Delameter found its final resting place in the Archibald burying ground, where he sleeps undisturbed by the noise of the automobile and the stir of present-day business. As we ponder for a moment over those old times of the past, when the valley was still in its primitive state, we wonder if the hard working pioneers with their wives and children were as happy as we are today with all our advantages and so-called advancement. What do you think?

MORE ABOUT THE EARLY SETTLERS OF NEW KINGSTON

IF YOU LOOK on your map of the State of Virginia just south of the capitol city of the United States, you will see the city of Alexandria. To this city-if it was a city at that time- John Philip Harry Yaple came from Alsace sometime before the Revolutionary War. He was the great grandfather of P. G. Yaple of New Kingston and, I suppose, of the other Yaples of his generation.

Before the Revolution the great-grandfather and others of the family used to make hunting and trapping trips up into the valley of the Delaware River: one division of the party going up the West Branch to where Deposit now is, and the other coming up the valley of the Pepacton or East Branch. Naturally the beaver at Beaver Dam (Roxbury) attracted them, and they also visited the valley of the Plattekill.

After the Revolution and after the 5000 acre tract was surveyed and allotted, at east two of the sons of the great grandfather spoken of came into the valley to settle. The history of Delaware County states that Christian and Philip Yaple were among the very earliest ones to build homes here. The former probably settled where William Yaple now lives (the William Crawford farm), while Philip settled where P. G. Yaple lives (now owned by T. J. Wagner) and built a log house at a very early period. It probably stood just across the stream from where the present house stands.

The Yaples were not those who received allotments, for they were not residents of Kingston, but came from Virginia or Pennsylvania as before mentioned. They purchased several of the fifty acre lots from some of those who had received them and who did not wish to settle here. The present Yaple farm in the village of New Kingston originally consisted of four fifty-acre lots, and the older Philip Yaple is said to have had at one time a much larger tract made up of these lots.

Jacob Yaple, a brother of Philip Yaple, went into the central part of the state and purchased, for a small sum, quite a large tract of land at the head of Cayuga Lake where Ithaca now stands. His brother Philip visited him there with some others, and Jacob offered to aid him in securing a good tract on the lake, but he grew tired of the region and preferred to come back to this valley.

Being a native of Alsace would indicate that the Yaple family was originally "high Dutch," or German, although Alsace has passed back and forth between Germany and France, and since the great war, is owned again by France. Intermarriage with English and French and Dutch and other people has wrought the same kind of changes that most of our old lines have experienced. Our New Kingston descendant had for a mother a woman of English family with a long line of ancestors reaching back for centuries. His wife came from an equally long ancestral line of Irish blood, but in this branch the line will cease since no children were born to the present representative of the Yaple name. The old homestead, which has always been in the family since the first log for a home was cut, must soon pass into other hands.

Incidentally, while talking with this last of his branch of the line, he told me that his wife had been related through marriage to Schuyler Colfax, who was Vice President of the United States when Grant was President. I remember "Grant and Colfax" when they ran and that is my farthest back. I had a miniature picture of each at election time, and felt that the safety of the country depended upon their being elected. That must have been about 1868.

And in the book of the Colfaxes he has placed the marriage certificate of the one-time Vice President of the United States. It was simply a written statement by the officiating minister and was so plain and simple for a marriage certificate, that I think I will reproduce it for you. Here it is:
Argyle, Washington Co. N. York
Oct. 10, 1844
I, the Pastor of the Reformed Dutch Church of Fort Miller of this county, do hereby certify that I have this day joined in matrimony Schuyler Colfax and Evelyn Clark.
Joel Wood.

That is quite an interesting relic, but I am sure that if I gave a young couple a mere statement in my own handwriting in these days they would not be satisfied. What would you not give for just one glance at New Kingston when our trio of first families started to make homes in the valley of the Plattekill? Today (April 21) I took my surveyor's compass and started off into the hills, and when I came to an old wall which marked out one of the division lines in the original tract, I took bearings. I stood at the end of the long line wall which runs between Will Adee (David Crawford farm) and some other farm (I think it must be that of George Wickham) and set my compass so as to sight at the west line of David Adee's farm (now owned by Joseph Hewitt); they are both in the same division line. I found the bearing to be South 40 degrees, thirty minutes East, and that corresponds with the direction of the other lines excepting the cross lines, which are around fifty degrees cast or west of north and south. I thought of Mr. Cockburn running out all these lines in the dense forests one hundred forty years ago. It must have taken him one whole summer, and the old line walls remain as lasting monuments to his work. One need never lose a corner in the New Kingston contract, for it is always possible to find a wall somewhere on every old line and run it and the one which crosses it to where the corner should be. And if you are ever in doubt about a line and can find any part of the old division of which your line is a part, you can reconstruct the original line and thus find where your line belongs.

And when all the old settlers are forgotten and their descendants also shall have passed away, the old lines will still remain to show the work of more than a century gone, and perhaps if the visitor to the valley will listen intently, he may yet hear the echoes of the woodman's ax, and the crash of the mighty maple as the wilderness was being changed into a pleasant place for the habitation of man.

HISTORY GATHERED FROM GRAVESTONES

THREE SMALL CEMETERIES show their white marble along the Plattekill, where the old-time people of New Kingston lie sleeping. A desire came to me to see how many resting there were of the eighteenth century.

And so on the one spring day when there were no chilling breezes and the very air breathed summer's coming, I rambled among the mounds where those sleep who dwelt in this valley a century gone and fought with nature for homes and livelihood. just those born before 1800 1 looked for in each white city of the dead.

And as those of many years shall read these names, they will recall the old faces which I have never seen and remember where they had their homes and what was their toil. For then everyone had to toil for the elements of life.

Up where we laid an old and respected father of the valley a week ago, on the very farm where he wrought through his lifetime, I found these names inscribed on the tombstones: William Dumond, born in 1779; Rachel, his wife, born in 1783; Abram Dumond, born in 1799; Elizabeth, his wife, born in 1800; Abram J. Delameter, born in 1787; Sally, his wife, born in 1783; Egnos Dumond, born in 1788; Anna, his wife, born in 1789. I looked to find the gravestone of the first Abraham J. Delameter, but could not. Possibly at that early date marble stones were not easily secured.

Then I visited the group of mounds in the family burying grounds of the Dowie Farm and found, buried therein, seven born before 1801 as follows: Jacob Van Benschoten (date of birth not given but must be before 1760, as he was a soldier in the Revolutionary War); Jane, his wife (date also missing); John Hewitt, born in 1785; Sally Van Benschoten Hewitt, his wife, born in 1793; Cornelius Dumond ("King" Dumond?) born in 1787; Mary, his wife, born in 179O; Samuel Akerly, born in 1799.

Down on the bank, where the road turns in to go to the home of the Van Benschoten family, I also found two stones, one of marble and one of the native stone, upon which I found the inscriptions of Andrew Chisholm born in 1776, the year of the Declaration of Independence, and of Ellis, wife of James Chisholm, born in 1777, the year of Burgoyne's invasion. The latter was one of plain stone and had wonderfully beautiful lettering in semi-script style.

Up in the high cemetery on the gravel knoll along the road, I found none born before 1801, but as there were many graves marked with just a native stone with no inscription, I presume there may be several graves of the older residents born before the date mentioned.

One name I have omitted a name entirely unfamiliar to me. The grave was in the Archibald ground and the name was Alexander Ruckler, born in 1776, with his wife born in 1780. Doubtless some who read this will know of them.

Inquiry among older residents informed me that the Dumonds lived on the farm recently bought by Ralph Faulkner (Leonard Faulkner), the farm of William Adee (Crawford), and the farm of David Adee (Hewitt). Also, I believe that Cornelius Dumond lived on the Archibald farm now owned by Mr. Miller (now owned by his son, Richard Miller) down the valley. One informant told me that he was the one called "King" Dumond in the old days and that he used to be a very enterprising and energetic man.

What was the main way of making a living in those old days of the log cabin? What crops did they mainly raise and how did they manage to get ready cash for things they could not grow? The other day a man told me of their gathering together with their sheep at spring washing time at the home of some farmer who might have a good spot along the stream. From that I gather, sheep were raised in much larger numbers than now. Did they grow wheat and corn for husking in addition to the oats and buckwheat we now raise?

And when they went to church (for folks went to church then if there was any) did they take the oxen and the woodshod sled? Where was the first church and where the first school house in the valley? Who can tell me? How early did they have candles, moulded or dipped? Before that what did they have for light besides that of the open fireplace?

There was at least this difference between then and now. They looked for homes; we look for easy money. Which way leads more surely to comfort and happiness?

And how they must have worked. Look at the stonewalls now crumbling down. How did they get time to do it all? It is as much as ever that we can get our wire fences fixed in time for turning out the cows to pasture. Of course, they grew larger families then, and the boys and girls took hold well. But that meant more mouths to feed and more cloth to buy for wearing. But now they are all gone, with the world in which they lived.

No more for them the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or the busy housewife ply her evening care;
No children run to lisp their sire's return,
Or climb his knee the envied kiss to share.
-Anon

And they have left us their heritage, The fertile farms are ours which they prepared. They sowed for us to reap and passed on as we shall also pass on when our time shall come. On many a stone of those older days a verse tells of their hope beyond the grave. So pleasant is the world now we scarce think of what shall come when time shall be no more.

THE BIG FOREST AND THE LOST BABY

ONE AFTERNOON I tramped over the mountain to see the oldest inhabitant to get the picture of the valley as it was seventy-five years ago; for our oldest resident is past his eighth-fifth milestone. But the resident was not at home and another visit must be made another time.

Leaving the homelike spot and walking through the fields, another white farmhouse came into view and hither the traveler turned his footsteps to secure some needed information concerning some of the old lot lines of the Montgomery Tract. And not only did he get the knowledge desired, but a bit of most interesting history of the pioneer folk of the past. And after an urgent invitation that he stay to supper which he could not do as it was about time to milk he turned his steps to climb back over the steep hill.

If you have never seen the wonderful view from Harry O'Connors' pasture lot, which reaches from the bottom of the hill to the flat table on top, you have missed much especially at sunset time. Part way up the hill at your feet lie the broad meadows of the Miller farm and the farm of Mr. Ingles; farther on, the farms of the Archibald brothers, then the hill bordering Bragg Hollow, then the Grand Hotel greets you from the distance, while afar at the left, on the slope of the Bedell Mountain, a white house shows as plainly as the big hostelry.

Then nearer by at the left are the clustered buildings of the Cowan farm, while farther still "Neely" Sanford's peeps at you through the trees and the other old Ingles' farm stands out still farther on. And all are tinged with yellow gold as the sun is sliding down his western ladder.

And before you go on, I will tell you my story.

A century ago James Miller and his bride left their home in Bonny Scotland and braved the long voyage across the Atlantic to find a home in America. From the great city they somehow got to the all-wooded valley of the Plattekill and settled on the fine lying land where the Miller farm now is. Their lease bore the date of 1829 and was given by Edward Livingston, which makes their farm one of the very first to be settled outside the New Kingston Tract.

Then came the building of the log cabin and the felling of the forest monarchs to make the farm clearing. And the trees were monarchs, f or I saw on my tramp that day stumps which would measure more than three feet across and probably those were not the greatest at that.

Then one day, after children two, three, four, had come to brighten the forest home, little John, a baby of three or four years, left the house in the afternoon to go where his father and Andrew were chopping trees. The shadows of evening began to fall and the men came to the house for supper, but no little baby boy tagged their steps. And to the anxious query of the mother, they could only say they had not seen him at all.

And then began an all-night search for the lost boy. Up and down the hillside, through the deep woods, everywhere that it might seem possible his little feet might have taken him, they looked and called. The old tin lantern, with holes punched in it to let out its straggling rays, gave little aid as the darkness settled down, but there was no thought of stopping the search. And in the morning as day broke upon the hills at last, they found him so dazed and scared that he was even afraid of his own father and mother. In the night he had heard them calling, but so overcome was he by the terror of the dark forest that he dared not call out in return.

The terror of being lost in the trackless forests in those early days when not all the wild beasts had vanished and the anguish of the night could only be forgotten in the joy of the morning when the little wanderer was again clasped in his mother's arms.

We are sitting on the hillside looking over the beautiful picture of wide-spreading farms and green hills and far-away mountains. The vision fades and appears in its place the picture that used to be. Woods, woods, woods, everywhere. A curl of blue smoke climbs up above the tree tops here and there where the settlers have reared their cabin homes. The tinkle of a cow bell falls dreamily upon the car. The sound of the ax followed by a mighty crash foretells the passing of the old and the coming of another day in the valley.

Night is settling down, mantling the valley in shadow. The ax is still, the cow has been housed for the night. The last streamer of sunlight is gone and old earth is ready to sleep. Suddenly a cry of anguish and alarm sounds in the stillness. The mother is crying out for her baby and the voices of others join with hers all through the night. The night bird in the tree tops ceases his calling and all else, save the echoes of the searchers, is hushed. The woods give- sometimes peace, sometimes terror.

James Miller reared his family of four or five and sent some out into the world, but the old farm is still owned by Millers. After James, it was owned by Walter and John who was lost, while Andrew bought the Ingles place from the Delameter brothers. Now James has the farm again-the grandson of the first James, that is. And it is a good place to drop in for a chat. But I wish I could turn back the wheels of time and drop in for a call on the first Miller family when a fireplace took the place of the present day stove, and chat for a time with the rugged old pioneer and his good housewife who came across the sea to help build up our country while making a home for themselves and their children.

WHICH IS THE OLDEST HOUSE IN NEW KINGSTON

WHICH IS THE VERY OLDEST house in the New Kingston Valley? That is a hard question to answer.One man thinks the old Delameter house on the farm recently bought by Mr. Tait is oldest; another believes the old part of the house on the farm of William Adee was first built, while some hold the opinion that the stone house is older than any other.

If any person reading this has any knowledge in the matter, we shall be glad to hear from that person. Until then, if we must guess, we will go about it as systematically as we can.

Of course, the first homes were log cabins. Doubtless most of the people over forty have seen a real log house. When I was a boy, I used to go sometimes to see Uncle Peter Judd and his wife Aunt Harriet in their little log house. I can remember that where the logs came together the cracks were "chinked up" with mud or clay to keep out the wind. That was in Schoharie County and more than fifty years ago. And it seems to me that I have seen one or two back among the hills since I came into this section of Delaware County eighteen years ago. But I know of none or the remains of any about New Kingston.

Next, after the log houses, came those made of plank standing upright. These plank were placed as close together as possible, and the cracks were either battened down or there was a double set of plank. Such houses were said to have been very warm. A house on one of the Sanford farms, I think the Lyman Sanford farm, was planked, then sided, lathed, and plastered. That must have indeed been comfortable.

The old schoolhouse that used to stand by Bert Halleck's was built thus of plank and sided over with plank.

I rather think the New Kingston one may be a plank building also. The old Delameter house and the Dumond house on the Adee farm were also of plank. Now here is a way to make a shrewd guess as to when plank houses were first constructed. If anyone can tell when the first sawmill was built it should help to fix the time when plank houses were first put up. For sawmills must have come first, unless the planks were drawn in from outside, which is not likely. But it may be as hard to tell about the sawmills as about the houses.

Traveling up and down the Plattekill, you will notice several old mill sites; sawing lumber must have been quite a business in the old days, and then must have been the time of plank buildings. Of course, siding soon followed. And if everyone who lives in an old house will go upstairs and into the attic and see if there are ends of plank in sight, he or she may know the house was built near the time of the entrance of sawmills into the valley.

Now, since we are guessing, let us guess what started the village of New Kingston. We know very well it was not done by farmers, for they generally spread out instead of building near each other. Here is my guess. Someone started a sawmill there, and houses were put up for the men working in the mill and for the teamsters, etc. Then, of course, a blacksmith shop and a wagon shop would soon follow. The old Delaware County Atlas shows a map on which a store and postoffice is located. That would be fifty-five years ago, and some of the present residents can remember back farther than that. If I had talked with some of them before writing this, I wouldn't have needed to guess much.

But all our guessing will do no good when it comes to fixing the age of the stone house (presently owned by Albert Wickham). No one can remember when there was not plenty of stone around New Kingston for building either walls or houses. Knowledge about the mortar might help us a little more. It must have been good to last so long and still hold.

If the owner of the stone house will permit me to do so, I wish to take a picture of it after it stops raining. Then I may be able to get a cut printed in "The News" to head a short article about it. And it may be that then I shall be able to speak more definitely about the old home of Aunt Sally Van Benschoten Hewitt. For she was the first housewife to dwell within its four walls and that must have been more than a hundred years ago.

In looking around for a bit of knowledge of old-time houses, I secured a little information which I much desired. At the home of William Adee, who has the farm settled by the Dumonds, they allowed me to see the deed of the land. In it I found what I have wished for-the exact dimensions of one of the 100 fifty-acre lots of the New Kingston tract. The measurement given was 22 chains and 35 links each way. As a chain is four rods long and links are hundredths of a chain, it would be 89.4 rods square.

If every lot in the tract is of the same size which I suppose is true the dimensions of the tract would be 894 rods each way, or about two and four-fifths miles.

SCOTTISH SETTLERS IN NEW KINGSTON VALLEY

LAST MONDAY AFTERNOON I took a trip that would delight a geologist or an antiquarian. For a geologist would be delighted to see the great ten-ton granite boulder which the ice-flood dropped beside the road, with the rounded gray granite one lying a rod or so away. I think the old glacier must have dropped these exceptionally large samples of its burden from afar north just to mark this wonderfully charming branch of the New Kingston valley.

And if the hunter for antique furniture, etc., could see the great strong chest brought over a hundred years ago from afar over the sea in Scotland, together with the flax spinning wheel, the old reel, century old shears, and wooden soled shoes, equally old, he would go wild with delight also. And then there was a wonderful chest weighing close to two hundred pounds which had once been the possession of the first wife of our pioneer New Kingston settler, Jacob Van Benschoten. While she was still a young woman
before Jacob won her, she spun flax for linen and bought the boards for the making of the chest and they were wide enough so there was no piecing. I wish you could see it.

And where did I see all these? Why, away up the long, beautiful valley where probably the first of Scotland's contribution to our valley made his home. More than 100 years ago, John Thomson with his wife, Marion, left Hamilton, Scotland, and came to America with their children and made their home where Andrew J. Thomson now lives (presently owned by William Dougherty). Two brothers had settled in Bovina some years before near the Butt End, their descendants still occupying the original homesteads.

Our pioneer probably could not secure a suitable tract of land on that side of the mountain and so he came over into our valley. He could have purchased the tract where Gideon Robertson (Hugh Robertson) now lives, but wished to be as near his brothers and to Bovina as possible, so he chose the spot mentioned. From John Hunter of Westchester County he leased lot 150 across the Desbrosses line for an annual rental of twenty-five dollars and fifty cents a year, except the first five years when he paid a shilling an acre, which would amount to about seventeen dollars a year.

I saw the old original lease, and it was a rare sight. It was as large as a sheet of newspaper with enough printed matter to occupy your attention for some time. The signatures were well preserved, and the old document entire enough so that nearly all its provisions could easily be read. I have never seen another like it for size.

Within a short time a log house was erected and homemaking begun. An ox team did the logging and farm work while a horse was kept for taking the grain over the trail to the Butt End for grinding. The horse never knew what harness was and was never hitched to a wagon he was the auto which kept the family in provisions from the outer world.

In 1822 a log barn was built. Before that the cattle lived largely in the forest and in winters were dependent to a great extent on the "browse" furnished by the ax, which was the way early settlers had to keep their stock until larger clearings were made. The cattle knew what it meant when they heard the ax resounding through the forest, and the ax man had to hurry to get his tree down before they reached him, lest they be crushed beneath it.

In 1834 the first frame barn was erected. It is still standing in very good condition, although another barn has since been built. The carpenter work cost eighty dollars and the stone work fourteen dollars, and it is no small building. The house came two years later and is still the dwelling place of the family, and a pleasant one, too.

There is living within the reading circle of "The News" a woman who, when the barn was built, was a child of very few years and who belonged to a neighboring farm. Naturally, she would be where the building was going on, and if she remembers (which she will), she will tell you how the builders put her high up on the corner of the barn wall to keep her out of reach of the old gobble-turkey, of which she was in great fear. If she chances to see this, the old picture will come back.

Letters written before envelopes were used and before stamps came were shown to me. Some came to Bovina, some to Stratton Falls. The earliest through New Kingston was sent about 1852 which indicates when that office was opened, although it might have been there earlier. Postage was paid by the receiver of the letter, and I noted a large figure 5 on one of the letters showing what must be paid to get it from the office.

Traveling shoemakers visited each home and made the shoes for the family. Also came a candlemaker who "dipped" the candles for the household. Then there was a saddlemaker, one Tunis H-, who loved his brown jug. An entry in the diary kept by a member of the Thomson family in those days mentions his being "drunk as a beast." Having a saddle to deliver at the Butt End, he started out one bitter cold day over the mountain with the saddle and his jug one in either hand. Part way up the ascent he tired and sat down upon a rock to rest, laying his saddle on one side and setting his jug on the other and laying his hat aside also. Some days later Mr. Thomson, going up the hill, saw him sitting there and upon going up to him found him frozen to death. The drowsiness from the jug had made him a victim to the chill of the mountains.

The first intimation that Indians ever lived around New Kingston comes to me from this locality. An old Indian called "Shongum" used to live near the Thomson home on the Mountainside and made baskets from the wood of the black ash and went traveling over the country selling them. Doubtless some of his baskets may yet be in existence.

Church going appears to be a habit of the family as New Kingston well knows. It must be inbred, for in the days when horses had become the means of travel, the family went over to Bovina to church and on Communion Sundays went all the way to Kortright Center. And they also attended meetings in the schoolhouse which was built in the valley. I believe the original faith of the family was that of the Covenanters, a church of which denomination is still in Bovina, although the larger number of the people now worship with the United Presbyterian Congregation.

Someday when you can spare the time, take a trip up this quiet but delightful valley. When you come to the gate to the Thomson home, climb over the wall opposite and up the slope a way, and there sit down and dream of the olden days. Shut your eyes and see the log house shut in by the forest. Remember that for seven or eight years the nearest neighbor was where you noticed the fragment of stone chimney in the wall at the left where you turned near the farm of Burton Archibald (presently owned by Mrs. A. Lanzi).

Still dreaming, go down to the log cabin where the housewife is preparing the noonday meat over the fireplace. The humble meat is set, and the family gather about the board. For a silent moment all wait while the husband and father offers thanksgiving. Look on the face of this little group and see if you find there aught of discontent or unhappiness, and ask yourself if they had less of happiness then we in 1924.

WILLIAM COWAN SETTLED HERE ABOUT 1825

THIS WEEK I VISITED another farm where the family line has been continuous, and the land is still occupied by one of the direct descendants. There are four such families tip that branch of the valley: the Thomsons, the Cowans, the Archibalds, and the Millers. My visit was to the Cowan farm now owned by Andrew Cowan (presently owned by Harold Mead).

The homestead lies adjacent to, or is cut by, three roads and is one of the two farms which looks particularly smooth and well adapted to its purpose and it has been well farmed. With abundant water, it is naturally adapted to dairying, and the records of the testing association for the past year (1924) show that the business has been well followed.

The original lease or deed was from General Hermance, which particularly interested me as I had come across the name in the records and have been wishing to know what lands he might have held in this section. So far I have found that he probably owned the farms now possessed by Harry O'Connor, Thomas Ingles, and Andrew Cowan. The O'Connor farm was sold to Archibald Elliott in 1837 by Sally Hermance of Rhinebeck, who doubtless was the widow of General Hermance and probably one of the Livingston line.

The Cowan farm was settled by William Cowan about a century ago. We figured out the date from the children of Thomas Cowan, Thomas having taken the farm a few years afterward from his father. There were ten children, the youngest being the only one left, and he gave me the facts to figure with. The oldest one was Hannah Cowan, born in 1830 or 31, and as there must have been at least five or six years before Thomas Cowan could have married and settled on the place after it was cleared by his father, the first trees must have been cut as early as 1825.

Thomas Cowan came across from Scotland after his father, if I remember correctly. The ship in which he came drifted from its course, and he was compelled to winter in Prince Edward's Island just north of Nova Scotia. The following summer he came on to New York State and found employment at Catskill in a tannery, until his father transferred to him the farm he had started to clear.

The value of the incomers from the little island across the sea to our great country is well illustrated by this line. Strong, energetic, intelligent, whether in this immediate valley or in Weaver Hollow or the "Turnpike," they have "made good." I have "sponged" many a meal at their tables ending for the time just the other night when I sat at the board while I got material for my story. I shall not be sorry to try it again, especially if they have some more of the dried beef of the old-fashioned style, the kind I used to whittle off with my jackknife as it hung by the stove of course, when the housewife was not looking.

The older one of the family the last of the next older generation told me about how they used to "dip" candles. He said his mother used to fasten several pieces of wicking to a long stick, each long enough for a candle. Then she would melt up the tallow in the boiler as that was the only thing deep enough. The wicks would be well greased by hand so they would hang straight down, and then the whole line of them would be let down into the melted material and drawn out again. Then she would hand the stick with the candle beginnings to him to take into the cellar to cool for another layer while, I suppose, she dipped another string of them. Thus after several dippings enough grease would accumulate to make a good sized candle.

I remember hearing years ago that sometimes they had water in the boiler beneath the melted tallow, and asked him why, as I could never understand it, unless in some way the water helped to harden the tallow. "Why," said he, "that was because they had not enough tallow to fill the boiler, which would take an enormous quantity." And then I saw it plain enough and wondered why I had not guessed it before.

After supper I slipped up to the top of the ridge where the Roxbury road runs across to see if I could set my surveying compass on the old Desbrosses line and get its bearings. And coming down again I was charmed with the view which seemed like looking through an open door at the valley below and the mountains far beyond. It is quite unique and worth seeing.

And then after a look at the dairy and a good-bye, I jumped into the Ford and started for home, but was not able to forbear running out to where the two roads come together to see if I could get a better "squint" at the old line surveyed in 1776. And it seemed there in the hill quiet that I almost slipped back into the old days and was with the surveyors who ran the line 148 years ago this summer. I listened, but heard no sound, not even the tinkle of a cow bell to break the silence. And then there came suddenly a loud barking sharp and insistent. What could it be? Wolves? No, it was just "Neely" Sanford's milking machine and said to me plainly, "You are needed at home where there is a similar barking," and I "turned on the juice" and hustled.

ECHOES OF OLDEN TIMES ALONG THE PLATTEKILL

LAST WEEK'S MAIL brought me two letters which so interested me that I shall take the liberty to tell you what they said, at least in part. The first is from New Jersey and the second from Michigan.

From Middletown, New Jersey, the Rev. John Thomson, pastor of the Reformed Church writes:

"I have just read with great interest your recent article in the Catskill Mountain News in relation to the New Kingston Valley. "I am a grandson of the first settlers in that upper valley, and your article brought to my mind incidents that I heard my father often speak of in my boyhood days, some of which I had entirely forgotten, particularly that incident in relation to 'Tunis H.' The place where he was found dead and where the Indian cabin was located are familiar places in my memory. There are not many fields on that Thomson hillside that I have not plowed, or mowed with the mower, and I knew where every rock and woodchuck hole were located."

From Alpena, away up in Michigan on the shore of the Lake, Mr. C. B. Gilbert writes of the old days in our valley from his own memory of sixty years ago:

"I have been reading your own writings in "The News" which interested me, and as I am not a boy any more it may interest you to know some of the events that happened sixty years ago.

"In May, 1864, 1 left my home in Canada and came to Margaretville to learn the trade of plasterer with my brother, George Gilbert. Our first job was a milk house for 'Hop' Dean. I then went to E. Travis's near Stratton Falls, then hired out to Thomas Scott for a month to work in haying and to lath his house. "After the Fourth we started the old 'armstrong machine,' as also did the two Thomsons, John H. and Andrew, whom we could see very plain from the Scott fields. On Andrew's place we could see four young men all keeping stroke much better than we could on the John H. Thomson farm.

"Farther up the valley was a farmer named Starley, but I did not know him very well as I used to go to James Henderson's where Ezra played the violin and where there were some fine girls.

"I first saw New Kingston in May 1864, and then there was a store and post office kept by a Birdsall. There was a log house at the foot of the hill where the roads branched one leading down the brook, the other to Margaretville. Ezra Sprague lived in that log house. There were two stone houses, one at the upper end of the village and the other at the Andrew Hewitt house.

"I knew most of the old stock of Dumonds. Wat' Miller also had a real old house as did William Elliott. The house of James Douglass was the last one I helped plaster in the sixties. I left Margaretville in 1869. "

"There is a Frank Stimson living there, who with me went over the same mountain the man traveled with the saddle and the job, but we had plastering tools and we went to plaster a house for Peggy McFarland in the fall of 1869."

Mr. Gilbert's letter, of which I have given the main parts, interests me. Where was the stone house at the upper end of the village of New Kingston? And where was the Scott farm up in Thomson Hollow? I suppose the James H. Thomson farm was where Theron Starley now lives. And did the old house of "Wat" Miller's stand where the home of James Miller now is, or elsewhere?

An Old Lease

Last week Frank Ingles showed me the oldest lease I ever saw. It was given in the year 1793. James Carman received said lease from James Desbrosses, a merchant of New York City. The Desbrosses line, which I have often referred to, is the line between the towns of Middletown and Roxbury, and is the line between great lot 40 and great lot 41.

Evidently this James Desbrosses received a large tract of land in the Hardenburgh Patent which he leased and sold as other large holders did in those days. The paper is somewhat tom, but the handwriting is as plain as if written recently. Their terms of the lease are very exact but differ from those given in the Montgomery tract. The payment, which was not to begin until 1801, was to be a shilling an acre a year.

Mr. Ingles does not know just how he came by this very rare old paper and does not know just where the farm lies which was leased. I have looked in the Delaware County 4tlas and have found a lot which seems to correspond with the description given in the lease. The place is near the schoolhouse where the two roads which part at the Maynard place in Bovina come together again about two miles farther up. Back in 1868, by the Atlas, a man named Adee lived on the farm.

General Hermance Again

Mr. Ingles also has an old mortgage given on a farm in the Montgomery Tract in 1828 which throws some light on General Hermance.

In 1812 Janet Montgomery gave 1474 acres of land to her nephew, William Jones. The tract included the E.H. Birdsall farm, the Thomas Ingles farm, the Harry O'Connor farm, the Henderson farm, the Miller farm, the O'Connor farm, the Archibald farms, the Cowan farm, the Ruff farm, and possibly more. Mr. Jones died not many years after that and the land was divided up between a George Shufeldt; the estate of General Hermance, deceased; and the estate of Janet Montgomery, deceased. The Janet Montgomery portion went to Edward Livingston and later to his wife, Louise. General Hermance lived at Rhinebeck, across from Kingston, and as mentioned last week, it is probable that Sally Hermance, who deeded the Harry O'Connor farm in 1837 to Archibald Elliott, was the wife of the General.

NEW KINGSTON SCHOOLS OF LONG AGO

WHILE VISITING a descendant of one of the strong families that have made New Kingston history, I recently came across a real treasure, a clerk's book of the school district reaching back sixty years. I also have at hand the record book of the Winter Hollow District reaching back to 1848. The names and records of conditions of those days have interested me much, and I have thought well to pass them along to you.

The Delaware County History says that the first school in New Kingston was taught by John May in 1803. No information as to where the school was held is given, and so we know little about it. And as to what was done between then and 1864, unless someone can dig up some old records, we shall also be ignorant. It would be very interesting to know about the first school house.

It was likely a log building, and it may be that some of the very oldest people may yet recall where it stood and how it looked. In 1864, C. D. Sanford was trustee with J. G. Russell following. School was maintained for nine months in the year, which shows that the people had real educational interest, as seven was what rural districts usually had. Nine is what the law requires now.

That year the school was taught by Jonas M. Preston and Lucinda Faulkner. Probably he had the winter term and she the summer term. I wonder if that was the Jonas Preston who died a year or so ago in Delhi. If it was, I knew the teacher of sixty years back. I imagine that he did not spend much money, as most young people do now, and that the summer teacher did not buy many silk dresses. The total sum paid for teachers' wages that year was $124, or less than fourteen dollars a month. That would be less than half of what the district now pays per week. Probably boarding around saved something, and I am sure that would be a distinct advantage in many ways. The teacher would be well fed and would also keep in touch with the parents.

The district received from the state that year $68.90, raised by tax $26.78, and in addition raised $57.58 by rate bill, which means that each person sending children to school had to pay so much for each pupil. The large family was therefore most expensive in more ways than one. The minister of that time, the Rev. John Servis, had five children of school age as the records show, and it would seem a bit hard on a preacher to pay per head for their schooling. However, I noticed an "exemption" item, and I presume the good people of those days let the minister off free.

The district had sixty-six children of school age; that's some difference from now. The largest number for one family as shown by the list was six. Several had five each, and it went on down to one which represented quite a number of families. It appears that sixty different children attended school that year. I wonder what our genial teacher of 1924 would say next fall should he be greeted on opening day by sixty wriggling youngsters?

Here are the names of those living in the district with children to send to school: James W. Dumond, James J. Dumond, John Dumond, C. Dumond, John Yaple, A. H. Yaple, C. D. Sanford, William Sanford, Robert Archibald, J. V. B. Hewitt, Rachel Chisholm, William Chisholm, Rev. John Servis, Robert Dickman, Esther Northrup, Robert Northrup, Isaac Birdsall, W. R. Swart, W. H. Happy, R. M. Faulkner, John Van Benschoten, Jacob Van Benschoten, J. G. Russell, Abram Baker, Jeremiah Akerly, Robert Winter, Gilbert Kinch.

Four Dumond families and not one left, and other names also vanished. Standing in the old cemetery this year after one of the oldest citizens of the valley had been laid to rest, I said to a resident of the region who stood with me, "What will New Kingston be in fifty years?" And he replied, "Woods." Perhaps he was right, but I hope not.

It must have tried the fibre of those old workers to find food, clothing, shelter, and other necessaries for their families, but I venture that in later years, when the children gathered again about the old hearthstone at Thanksgiving or Christmas, they have felt well repaid for all their toil and sacrifice.

I have been trying to picture a few of the pupils of the school of that time. I think I know of one who must have been a good student, but who would never be satisfied unless everything was made perfectly plain. I am sure he could never take any teacher's simple "say so," but had to be shown that it was so. And then there must have been a rather quiet thoughtful boy with a droll humor who was the delight of the teacher, although you cannot be sure by guessing of the past from the present. But I am sure anyway that the school was a bright and interesting one.

In 1866 a new school house was voted to cost seven hundred dollars. Later, in the same year, a special meeting was held at which the amount was made eight hundred dollars. The school was to be twenty-four by thirty, but the trustee had the privilege of making it two feet larger each way. James Archibald was elected trustee that year. Twenty-three voted for the new building, and one against it. I presume the new school house was the present one, having been materially improved some fifteen years ago.

In Winter Hollow I note some names that have long been absent in the district: William Lewis, William Clement, James M. Thomson, William DuMond (the older one), E. D. Reynolds, Henry P. Reynolds, Gilbert Winter, Francis Coulter all over sixty years ago.

In the little school house which used to stand by the Archibald farm, there used to gather fifty pupils or more. Now that district sends three or four to school. And we are forced to ask what will the school situation be a few years later? Time alone will tell.

But of one thing we may be sure: From the men and women the older schools turned out, they must have done some excellent work.

A STORY OF THE SETTLING OF WEAVER HOLLOW

THIS WEEK I AM GOING to play truant and slip over into an adjacent valley just to tell you the story of Ann Scott. I hope it will be as interesting to you as it was to me.

If you go down to the big white house that stands just back from the river bend below the stone schoolhouse, the descendant of Ann Scott will show you a quite wonderful sampler which is a fine specimen of needle work made by her in 1801 over in England. The embroidery in silk thread on linen background shows fine skill, and the bordering vine with buds and blossoms is beautifully worked. The center work is a quotation which is so good I shall give it to you. Here it is:

Let Prudence admonish thee; let Temperance restrain thee;
let Justice guide thy hand; Benevolence warm thy heart;
and Gratitude to Heaven inspire thee with Devotion.
-Ann Scott, 1801.

Thomas Scott, the father of Ann, lived in England and was well to do. But through aiding a friend with his endorsement, he became straitened in circumstances and sailed for America to retrieve his fortunes. In Dutchess County of this state, he visited a cousin, and this cousin, being of a business turn of mind and having some lands in Weaver Hollow, induced our friend to buy of him and locate in that valley. And so be did.

Ann Scott, with her husband Benjamin Clark for she was now married and had two or three children, it being in the year 1820 soon followed her father with her husband and children. After a tedious voyage of three months they landed in New York Harbor and decided to take a Hudson River boat to meet the father who had prepared to meet them at Kingston.

After landing arrangements were made to take a Hudson River boat to Kingston, the wife discovered that she had left her baby's clothing on the ship and the husband went after it. As he was somewhat deaf, the wife usually did the business and carried the pocketbook. The riverboat agreed to wait for him but did not, and pock when he returned he found himself alone in New York with no money and was compelled to walk all the way to where the boat landed with his family, away up the river. His food and lodging along the weary way he was forced to solicit from the people living by the road.

Then two long, tedious weeks of travel with horses over the rough roads and trails until at last they came to the log house in Weaver Hollow which was to be their home for a time at least. The site was on the farm now owned by Mary Cowan far up the valley, the house being above the road from where the present dwelling stands.

When the courageous wife, who had been brought up in old well settled England, entered the little log hut where her home was to be she at last broke down and cried. And many a night thereafter, she went out into the edge of the wild forest and from sheer homesickness and loneliness wept, while the wild animals answered her with their own cries, as if in sympathy.

But that did not mean giving up or neglecting her duties. Bravely she bore her burdens and reared her family which became still larger in her new world. And from those whom she has given us, we can know something of her energy and character and of her husband.

It was the purpose of the mother of our heroine to come to America when they had things settled, and she now expected to follow very soon. Then one day Thomas Scott, the father, started for a village lying over the mountain and was temporarily stricken down and became unconscious. At that time a Mrs. Bryant, from the place where Ira Hubbell now lives, returned to England for a visit, and having understood that Mr. Scott was dead, so told it across the sea, and so the mother gave up her plan to come. As you know, messages across the sea were months in going and coming in those days, and by the time she heard the news that her husband was still living, she had given up all thought of coming. The new generation growing up in the rugged Catskills she never saw after they became sturdy men and women.

The Clarks have settled in different parts of the country, and I know of some in Walton and of others elsewhere. But my interest lies in the rather little of stature woman who seemed to have inherited in her slight frame all the energy and resolute purpose of her another. I remember her quite well when she had turned her face to the setting sun. When I knew her, she, of course, was not a Clark, but a Hoffman and no longer lived in the valley where she was reared. But the indomitable spirit that shone from her eyes told her lineage.

Well, that is about all of my story. One cannot write of folks who are living since they might be diffident about the matter. But you all know of the home down by the bend of the stream three miles below Margaretville, a house that also has a history. And you know the representatives of that home in the business life of the town and village. If you know their immediate forbears, you will expect them to do things. And you will believe that Ann Scott and her husband must have been real people, and that is not to discredit the other blood that mingled with the Clark line to give us the present representatives of the old stock.

One thing more. I should like to see the wonderful old clock Ann Scott brought over from England with her and which went to another part of the country to a son of the family, and was finally sold to a doctor in Franklin. I hope when he leaves this world he will return the old treasure to the original family line.

WAS ADAM DOUGLASS THE FIRST SCOTCHMAN?

A MILE AND A HALF beyond New Kingston village on the Dickson Mountain Road, a white house will greet you from the right hand side, and just a little farther on you can see another white house across the fields to the left. When you pass the meadow on the left of the road and come to the pasture, you may climb the wall and take the short cut across the fields and save going on to where the road cuts away from the one you have been traveling.

Part way across the pasture lot you will come to a flat top rock. Stop there and sit down on the rock right by the spot where Adam Douglass and Daniel Henderson built their log cabin in the summer of 1816. You may not find any of the chimney stones left, but I think there is someone living on the farm who can remember when some of them were still there.

Now forget the cleared fields and white houses and think back to the huge maple trees shutting you in on every side with no way to look but towards the sky, unless you may, perchance, have a bit of the first clearing of our two sturdy pioneers at hand. And now you ought to be ready to listen to my story.

Adam Douglass came from Roxburyshire in the highlands of Scotland in 1816, coming by sailing vessel to Halifax, Nova Scotia, and then by packet to Boston, from whence he came by diligence (public stage coach) to the Hudson River, and then came somehow on up to the woods of the New Kingston region. I do not know where this boy of eighteen fell in with his companion whether on shipboard or in the land of their birth. But anyway, they became chums and so remained until each was ready to take a life mate in the new country.

I presume by this time New Kingston had a store where our two homemakers could purchase what necessities of life they could not secure from the woods and from their clearing. They would need few dishes and could build their own fireplaces and make their furniture. While you are still sitting on the flat rock, you can picture it all and see the wilderness change into cleared fields with cattle grazing where bears and wolves roamed aforetime. Perhaps you may be able to sit with them some evening after the toil of the day, listen to the quietness, and watch the stars come out, the same stars that had just been looking down on the old home across the sea. Then, if ever, one would be homesick.

In 1821, Adam took a helpmate, Miss Cowan. Whether Daniel was already married or not I do not know. Anyway, they took separate lots thereafter, Adam taking the higher ground since he was a highlander, and Daniel taking what is now the Tuttle (Douglas Hoy) farm. But the farm eventually came back into the Douglass line, and if men changed names at marriage as women do, it would still be called the Douglass farm like the one above it.

After Adam Douglass came his son, James, and you may recall reading in a letter from C. D. Gilbert from the west, that he plastered the house of James Douglass in the sixties. That was the house still on the Douglass farm (now owned by John Schmitt). I do not know when Daniel Henderson sold the lower farm, but if I were to make a guess, I should say about 1850. I believe it was purchased by John Elliott, who married a daughter of Adam Douglass, and whose own daughter still lives on the place. It was she who told me how the old pioneer grandfather liked to see the farms well cleared and well cultivated. And in the sunset time of his life, he used to tell the grandchildren, when they coaxed for stories, tales of the olden days both in this country and in the land across the ocean.

It was in the 1850's that this sturdy representative of a sturdy race lived in the land of his adoption. When he lay down for his final rest, he had passed the ninetieth milestone of human life. During his later years, after the death of her who had shared his joys and sorrows, he became lonely and sighed for the land of his birth. Except for the entreaties of his children and neighbors, he would have turned his steps back to die on Scottish soil. But he sleeps in the valley to which he gave the legacy of his untiring industry in making the wilderness into a fit place for the dwelling of man.

I thought when I found records of the coming of the Scottish people into this valley about 1825, that I had found the earliest ones. Then I found the Thomsons who came in 1820 and the Cowans who came in 1821. In my sketch of the Cowans, I made a guess that William Cowan came to America in 1825, but his granddaughter living in New Kingston told me he came in 1821, the year the Stone School House was built and the year Napoleon was banished to St. Helena.

And now comes Adam Douglass, who came to this region in 1816, and Thomas Elliott, of whom I shall write soon, who came either that year or in 1817. I wonder if I shall find any representatives of the land of plaid and bagpipe still earlier. I rather think I have found the first man Adam.

But now they are all gone. "They labored and we have entered into their labors." We build upon the foundation they laid. They swung the ax and guided the oxen; we follow the seeder and ride in the automobile. They lighted their humble dwellings by tallow dip; we turn night into day with electric lights, acetylene or Rochester burners. They were steady and patient; we are becoming nervous and restless. They were content to make haste slowly; we want to turn the world over in a day. It is the age.

How they used to go to church! A woman who is now past seventy told me how she used to walk over the mountain and attend church in New Kingston when the Rev. John Servis was here. First the rather long morning service, then an intermission for lunch and then another sermon. Let's try it next Sunday and see how it will work. Those must have been great days for the preacher. Then if he were earnest and honest, he was sure of a hearing; now he must be extra fine or he will speak to empty pews. The age has changed. So goes the world.

THOMAS ELLIOTT AND HIS DESCENDANTS

IN LESS THAN TWO YEARS from the time Adam Douglass and Daniel Henderson set up housekeeping by the flat rock, Thomas Elliott was building his log cabin close by the little brook that runs down from what is now the George Robertson farm. The old walls are still visible and also the outlines of the old outdoor cellar used in those days. The site was but a few rods from the old road to Bovina, and so long as no one settled farther up, the brook water coming from many fine springs was all that could be wished.

For his future farm he leased first one piece of land and then another, until the farm eventually contained nearly three hundred acres, being the same at the present time. And then came the years of hard work, logging and burning until cleared acres took the place of the trackless forests. As it would be necessary to raise all, or nearly all their food crop, we may suppose that they grew wheat, rye, buckwheat, corn, etc. Sheep also were necessary for woolen clothing, and every farmer up until comparatively recent years had a flock of sheep.

Just when the Winters settled where the Robertson farm and the Long farm lie, I have not yet learned, but not long after Mr. Elliott started in, William Lewis had leased the farm where William Elliott now lives, and in 1836 Matthew and James Russell leased the Robert Ingles farm each having about half of it. Later came Ezra Sprague and then James Thomson, followed by Robert Winter.

John W. Elliott, grandson of Thomas Elliott, tells me that the Russell farm became the regular sheep-washing place each spring for the farms in the immediate vicinity. Later, when the farm passed into other hands, the custom was discontinued, probably because it would cost quite a little pasture to feed the flocks waiting for washing.

Somewhere in the late thirties or early forties, William Elliott succeeded his father on the farm, but I think not until the old log house had been abandoned and a new one built on the present site. Some addition has been made to it, but the main part is as it was well on towards a century ago. Mr. Gilbert in his letter says it was an old house when he was here sixty years ago, but you would never suspect that it had stood so many years.

I forgot to say that William Elliott came over from Scotland with his father and mother, and a sister came also, who afterwards married James Hastings of the Hastings Homestead over in Bovina.

The Anti-Rent troubles came while William Elliott owned and worked the homestead. He was a "down-renter" of course, but was not one of those who believed in resorting to violence. The farmers had taken the land and signed their leases; therefore, they should stand by their bargains and seek relief in other ways than by insurrection. The real trouble seemed to be on account of the price of wheat. Rent was to be paid in cash or in wheat as the bargain might be. Wheat went up very high and the usual twenty bushels of wheat made a high rent. Then came the "Indian" bands, etc., of the Anti-Rent struggle.

William Elliott had a hired man whom we will call Charley. On the day after Sheriff Steele was shot over on the Tremperskill, Mr. Elliott and Charley started on horseback for the Bovina Valley to get some pigs which they were to bring home in bags. As they passed William Lewis's he called out to them, "Do you know what the devils have done now? They have shot Steele." Charley, who had been away from the farm the day before, said not a word but studied the sky while Mr. Lewis and Mr. Elliott talked together. A short time after that, Thomas Winter, who lived where I am now writing, went over one evening to the Elliott home and told them that a posse was coming through the valley to arrest whatever "Indians" they could find. After Mr. Winter left, Mr. Elliott said to Charley, "It is haying time but if you think you ought to go away we can get along." Charley said he did not care on his own account but he did not wish to implicate anyone else, and so he and a brother quietly slipped out of the country until the troubles were over. The next morning the posse came down the old Bovina road from over the hill where Thomas Archibald now lives and went down through New Kingston, but they did not get Charley.

Two sons of William Elliott were killed in the Civil War. The body of one was brought home for burial, but the place where the other was buried could not be found, and he sleeps under southern skies with others who died in that great struggle. Mr. Samuel Hunter of Margaretville, who was in the same battle, was sent down afterwards by Mr. Elliott to try to find the grave of the fallen one, but he could not. Two sons for the cause of liberty was quite a contribution for one family.

The Elliott farm is one more that remains in the family line. The first blow of the ax which started the giants of the forest crashing down to make way for wheat and herds of cattle was struck by an Elliott, and an Elliott still works the broad fields and calls the place home. William Elliott settled the rent difficulty by buying the soil outright from the landlord, and rent has not been paid for many years. If the boys now growing up keep the old homestead in the family, they will never know anything about "Indians" and "posses" and such, except as the old stories of the early times are told over again.

This summer the big barn, which was built forty-nine years ago, has been shingled for the first time since its erection. The first shingles were shaved up Mill Brook in the old-fashioned way. I wonder if the shingles just put on will last as long. Today a tractor is running a stone crusher over by one of the old walls built many, many years ago, in preparation for a concrete floor over the entire basement 45 feet by 60 feet. It bites the stone into pieces and spits them out into a wheelbarrow to be wheeled to a big pile to await the mixer, not later than next spring. If the first Elliott could come back what would he think?

And if he could see what will be in another forty-nine years: can it be possible that what the man said in the old graveyard will come true that the valley will go back to woods again? I cannot believe it, can you?

(The Elliott farm has the distinction of being the only farm in New Kingston which has been continuously owned by direct descendants of the original settler. J. William Elliott, a great-great-grandson of Thomas Elliott, is presently operating the farm).

FIRST ARCHIBALDS SETTLED IN BOVINA

THE ARCHIBALDS of New Kingston valley have a still earlier record than any Scottish people heretofore named in these columns, if we could count the branch of the Bovina valley just over the hill from George Robertson's. That is where the line started in this section and an Archibald still lives on the old homestead there.

The History of Delaware County published in 1880 by W. W. Munsell and Co. states that Andrew Archibald with his son James came to America in 1807. As near as I can learn, the father of Andrew settled somewhere in Kortright, while James came up into the upper Bovina region to the farm just mentioned.

I say farm, but, of course, the country was all wilderness then. He leased a tract of land from Janet Montgomery and afterwards added to it until he had a large farm area. In the records at Delhi, I found where he purchased in 1832 quite a tract from some church society in Hobart. We yet hear people of the upper valley refer to it as the "church lot." The "church lot" lies across the Desbrosses line and is not a part of the Janet Montgomery tract.

James Archibald had five sons and I know not how many daughters, if any. The oldest son, Robert, settled sometime in the forties where Burton Archibald (Mrs. A. Lanzi) now lives, also owning the farm now owned by Laverne Archibald (Alfred Wolkenberg). And if you wish to see a real work of art in handwriting and printing in old script, just coax Burton Archibald to show you the old original deeds given to his grandfather.

The second son of James Archibald over the mountain was also named James. He settled on the farm where Mr. and Mrs. Herman Sanford (Russell Watters) now live, purchasing it in 1842 from John Reynolds and selling it to Henry Reynolds in the early sixties. Later he lived on the Gideon Robertson farm in New Kingston village. He also had a son James, who was the father of the two Archibalds of Margaretville. Another son was Sloan Archibald of Bovina.

The third son of the original James was John Archibald from whose daughter, now living in New Kingston, I have received much aid in getting the family line in proper order. John Archibald settled on the farm where Bert Halleck lives, having bought it of a family named McFarland. His children were Alexander, now of Delhi; Mrs. Isabella Cowan; and Mrs. Nettie Archibald Halleck, wife of Bert Halleck.

The fourth son of the first family was William Archibald, who was the father of John Archibald of Kelly Corners, now deceased. The youngest son of the family was George, who kept the old home in Bovina valley, his son Thomas now being its possessor. Another of his sons lives at Bovina Center, while two daughters live in Delhi, one being the wife of the county farm superintendent, James Foreman.

Robert, the oldest son of James Archibald, had four sons: Robert, James, John, and Andrew. Robert was laid to rest this last spring in the old cemetery on the farm where he reared his family; James kept the home farm, living there until he died a few years ago; John lived on the old "King" Dumond farm; while Andrew became a minister of the gospel. Mrs. J. S. Archibald of Margaretville, who was a daughter of John, has some very interesting relics of the old Dumond farm, about which I shall tell you when I get together sufficient information to write about the Dumonds.

The perpetuating of the family name, so far as the New Kingston branch is concerned, now appears to lie with the family over above Margaretville along the river and the one lively little fellow here in town whose first name I do not know.

Without attempting to pay compliments, it can honestly be said that this family has been a strong factor in the community of New Kingston. The character of a community is determined by the average character of its citizens, and this line has always helped to keep the standard high in the valley.

In writing these notes, my thoughts have inevitably turned to the tragedy that cast its shadow over one home, that of the Rev. Andrew Archibald, of Newton Center, Massachusetts. This morning as I write I am taking down my copy of "The Easter Hope," written by this father after the sad death of his son, Kenneth Archibald, in the Sierras in 1908. And it is a comfort that in spite of the terrible blow, he can still see the silver lining of the cloud in the resurrection hope. Glancing through the pages of the book has also cheered the heart of the writer of this column as it has doubtlessly cheered others.

It is a great heritage to have a noble line of ancestors to whom one can look back, and it is surely an inspiration to live the same honest life each one of them lived before us.

Did you ever hear of "Burnt Hill"? It was called that more than one hundred years ago, and its name is recorded in the laws of New York State of 1820.

Lately, I have climbed to the top of Burnt Hill more than once. I have taken my surveying compass and gone up the steep sides and clambered over its rock ledges, besides tangling my feet in the great mass of vines of wild buckwheat that cover the entire top of the mountain. I went just to see if I could find the pile of stones (if any) the surveyors of 1819 left there to mark a corner in the line between the towns of Middletown and Bovina.

You see, until 1820 there was no town of Bovina, but the territory now comprised by that town was part of Middletown, part of Delhi, part of Stamford, and I know not what other town.

The law establishing the town gives but meager description of the boundaries, but an old farmer told me that a certain cherry stump on the farm now owned by his son was on the line. So I set my compass there, and after adding to the bearings of one hundred years ago what I thought the compass change would be, I started. I had records from Washington showing what the change at Albany had been in a century and so I could guess fairly well.

Well, I kept on until I came to the top where I nearly fell off a high rock, and finally upon turning around a sharp corner just below the very summit, I came upon a porcupine cave some ten or twelve feet deep, Right at the mouth of the cave was quite a pile of flat stories which bore evidence of having been placed there by human hands. It may not be the corner, but I think it is.

After I have a chance to look among the tangled vines all about, to see if there may possibly be any other stone pile, and after I have run the line in the opposite direction and found the old corner above Weaver Hollow, I shall be ready to take you and let you crawl into the cave, unless the old porcupine is watching from a tree top as he was the last time I was there.

THE SANFORD FAMILY'S ANCESTRAL LINE

ARCHIBALD ELLIOTT settled sometime in the early thirties on the farm where Harry O'Connor now lives, and I supposed he was the first to start clearing up the forests on that place. Now I learn that the first New Kingston Sanfords located there some five or ten years earlier than Mr. Elliott.

The Sanford family in America, of which the New Kingston family is a branch, have an exceedingly long line of ancestors reaching back without a break several hundred years before the discover of the New World by Columbus in 1492. And if one should start in to make a list of all the Sanfords living in Delaware County at the present time, he would have quite a task. That they have been a real asset to the county is well known, for they have uniformly been progressive and successful.

Our first Sanford worked down on the farm of the first Ziba Sanford when be was twelve years old. That would be about the year 1815. By 1830 he had married a daughter of "King" Dumond, who lived on the large farm that overlooks the middle Plattekill, and was well settled on the farm mentioned in the first paragraph and had two children. The second of these children was Cornelius, the father of the present older generation of the Sanford line in this valley.

Shortly after 1830 our first Sanford, whose name was William, moved down the valley and settled within the bounds of the New Kingston tract. His first purchase was the farm occupied, until the last few years, by his grandson, William C. Sanford (Wallace Beyer), who now lives in Oneonta. This farm is made up of two fifty acre lots farther up the hill, now the Lyman Sanford (Ralph Small) farm. Presumably, nearly the whole area was at that time covered with dense forest and had to be cleared up. And that meant years of hard toil.

Cornelius D. Sanford when he grew old enough to marry took for a wife a daughter of Jeremiah Faulkner. His wife was also a granddaughter of our first New Kingston tract girl Aunt Sally Van Benschoten Hewitt of the stone house. Thus the Sanfords be connected with a great many people of this section, for by marriage the family lines have become much intertwined.

Cornelius Sanford settled at first on the upper farm of his father, but soon went over into the valley that comes down into Margaretville by way of the Bull Run stream. He lived where John L. Sanford now lives. John H. Sanford and some others of his family were born there, and some grew old enough to attend the school of that section. Eventually the family came back to New Kingston, this time buying the farm where the first start was made the Lyman Sanford farm.

In the records of the New Kingston school district, the trustee in 1864 was Cornelius D. Sanford, and he is listed as having several children of school age. That was sixty years ago. He died in Margaretville since I came into this section in 1906.

I well remember talking with him when he could no longer travel around, and although the house was old, the tenant was alert and strong. Had I then thought I should some time try to chronicle early events of this valley, I could easily have learned from him much of the old times when New Kingston was in the making.

His sons are no longer children. I have known John H. Sanford the same length of time that I have known the New Kingston church, and the same is true of two others William C. and Lyman. I have studied the old Book of books for many years, but one of the three at least whom I met in Sunday school was so well acquainted with its pages that I always quoted with care. They were reared evidently ill that sort of atmosphere and while many have come arid gone and run to and fro, they have never slipped from the moorings.

Let me see how many of the family I can recall. John H., George, Emory, William C., Lyman, Frank, Mrs. Vermilya. The first five I have known quite well and have enjoyed their acquaintance. Over by Andes I have slept and eaten under the hospitable roof of one of them and have had a good time at the home of one nearest by. The others I have always counted as friends who I liked to meet and have met them often enough so that formalities could he dispensed with. I believe one other has gone over the river and two of the daughters live near Walton.

Cornelius had a brother Maransa, who lived before the Civil War on one of the western fifty-acre lots of the large farm. The house is no longer in evidence, having gone the way of many of the older buildings of the region. This brother served in the war and after his return moved up Mill Brook to the place where his son, Jay, now resides. John R., another son, lives along the river near Delancey, while another, Herman, is here on the farm where James Archibald lived many years ago. I believe there was another, but I have forgotten about him.

It is said of Maransa Sanford that while he had quite a limited amount of learning as books go, he was quite a genius in mathematics. He seemed to have a sort of natural ability to see directly through most any problem, and many a time he has solved arithmetical and algebraic puzzles in his head that would bother good mathematicians to solve with pencil.

Had circumstances favored, he might have developed his gift and made a name. Doubtless, however, he enjoyed his life work just as well as others who have sat in chairs of endowed institutions and instructed others in the ways of wisdom.

The old estate of the Sanford family has passed into other hands. That is, the first hundred acres has gone out of the line. William C. Sanford received it from his grandfather, with whom he lived from boyhood. He sold it a few years since and moved to Oneonta, and now it is owned by Louis Dobsa. But the old Lyman Sanford farm up the hill is still is in the family line. Myron, a son of the second Cornelius purchased it this year. And as he is a worker, we may expect it to stay in the family for some time to come. Like others of whom mention has been made in this column, the Sanfords have been strong factors in the settling and subduing of the valley. Workers and managers have they been, and it is well that the name is not likely to soon die out. There will always be room for honest toilers and so long as the valley has enough of them, it will not go backward.

And the younger women of the family must not be forgotten. Whether as good teachers or as faithful housewives, they have done the name credit. I would like to go over the names of all the younger generation, but I am nearing the end of the column. I am glad to count among them very many of my best friends whom I much like and respect, not forgetting the one quite young member of the original Cornelius Sanford family.

THE HENDERSONS OF NEW KINGSTON VALLEY

THIS WEEK I WAS more fortunate than the other time when I sought to talk with the oldest inhabitant of the New Kingston valley. This time he was at home, and I was well paid for my visit.

Would it not be a great thing to see old New Kingston through the eyes of one eighty-six years in the valley? More woods and less cleared fields; more ox teams and rougher roads; more youngsters in every home.

James Henderson came from Jedburgh in Roxburyshire, Scotland, in 1816, with his brother, Daniel, who has been mentioned in these columns as coming in that year with Adam Douglass. James, being but thirteen years of age, stayed with his older brother for some time and then struck out for himself. Eventually, he secured a place with the Delaware and Hudson Co. and helped to build the canal connecting Rondout with the Pennsylvania coalfields. It is said that he once walked all the way from Kingston to this section to see the girl he afterward married, which shows that he was right sort to cope with the natural hardships of a new country.

The "girl" was Hannah Sprague, a sister of the Ezra Sprague spoken of in the column last week. Before she married James Henderson, she worked for her board one winter at the home of the Dumond who lived on the farm now owned by William Adee, and went to New Kingston school. The schoolhouse then stood somewhere near where the road from the old Delameter farm comes into the main valley road. Every night after school she spun a "run" of yarn and on Saturdays two "run." How much yarn there is in a run I was told but cannot remember, except that I think it was at least two skeins. You must ask some of the older women who may have some memories of it.

James and Hannah were married in 1827, and began keeping house in a log house which they built. Unfortunately, the location chosen turned out not to be on the lot they had leased, and they were compelled to build a new one. The first one stood for some years, and several transient tenants lived in it. Finally, it caught fire and burned down.
Then, there was the old story over again work, work, more work. From early morning until late at night both man and woman, starting in to make a home in the forest, must toil with unremitting diligence. Sundays only might they snatch a little rest, and when you think that to James Henderson and his wife Hannah there were born twelve children, you will realize that he must put forth all his energies to provide food and clothing, and she to get it ready. It was evident from the beginning that she was just the sort of a wife needed for the emergency, and he measured up to the occasion equally well. And I warrant that they were as happy as any couple starting out together nowadays under more favorable circumstances.

There were two boys Adam and Ezra. I cannot recall the names of all the girls, but I think there was a Nancy, a Mary, and certainly a Bible name which I think was Loruhamah. You will find it in the book of Hosea; it is evident that it was taken from the Book. The boys used to say of themselves that each had ten sisters and an unthinking one might guess, therefore, that there were twenty daughters in the family, but you can see the joke.

While talking with the remaining son the older having died some years ago in Margaretville I said to him, "How could they get money to feed and clothe them all?" He quickly replied, "They didn't need any money. They raised their own food and also material for their clothing, which the women spun into yarn and wove into cloth." And, remembering my own grandmother and mother, who were experts with the wheel and loom, I believed him.

He told me how he used to sit and run the "quill wheel" by the light of a "tallow dip" to prepare the spun thread for the shuttle of the loom. Parts of the old loom remain on the farm as relics of the days before cloth was bought from storekeepers and peddlers. He also remarked that the women wore more clothing then than now, which I did not dispute.

James Henderson was a vigorous Anti-Renter, although not an "Indian." He was present at the sale of stock at the farm on the Tremperskill when Sheriff Steele was shot, and he carried water for the "Indians" to drink. Consequently, he was sought later as a witness, but they never caught