Legends of the Shawangunk2 JR.pdf - Friends of the Sabbath ...

50 Legends of the Shawangunk.
ing of the 20th, the inhabitants of the valley were awakened from their slumbers by the
crackling of the flames of their dwellings. Cries of dismay, the shrieks of the victims of
the tomahawk and scalping knife, and the war-whoop of the savages, broke upon the
morning air in all their terror. Some managed to escape to the woods with their wives
and children, and some to the blockhouses. The savages and Tories plundered, burned
and killed as they were disposed.
After destroying twenty-one dwellings and barns, together with the old
Mamachamack church and a grist-mill, and killing an unknown number of patriots, the
enemy disappeared loaded with spoil. They did not attack any of the block-houses, for
which the red men entertained a wholesome fear.
On the evening of the same day Col. Tusten, of Goshen, received intelligence by an
express of the events of the morning. He immediately issued orders to the officers of his
command to meet him the following morning (the 21st) with as many volunteers as they
could raise. One hundred and forty-nine men were at the place of rendezvous at the
appointed time.
A council of war was held to consider the expediency of pursuit. Col. Tusten was
opposed to risking an encounter with the noted Mohawk chief, especially as his followers
outnumbered the Goshen militia, two to one. Besides the militiamen were not well
supplied with arms and ammunition, and the Colonel counseled that they wait for
reinforcements which were certain to arrive. Others, however, were for immediate
pursuit. They affected to hold the Indians in contempt; and declared that they would not
fight, and that a recapture of the plunder was an easy achievement. The counsels of
reckless bravery, untempered by reason and intelligence, are not always wisest to follow.
The deliberations were cut short by Major Meeker, who, mounting his horse and
flourishing his sword, vauntingly called out—“Let the brave men follow me; the cowards
may stay behind!”
This appeal decided the question; it silenced the prudent. The line of march was
immediately taken up, following the old Cochecton trail seventeen miles, where they
encamped at Skinner’s mill.
The pursuit was commenced come time in the night. Tradition and the testimony of
old papers show that the party reached the house of James Finch, at what is now
Finchville, where they took breakfast, Mr. Finch slaughtered a hog, which he roasted and
served up to his guests. The patriots partook of a hurried meal, gathered up the fragments
of the hog into their knapsacks, and continued their march over the mountain. They told
Mr. Finch not to accompany them, but to stay and have dinner ready for them on their
return, as the would be gone but a few hours. Their way led them along the depression
where the present highway is laid, past the burial ground where the dead of the settlement
were formerly buried; and from the summit of the pass nearly half of their number took
their last view of the eastern slopes.
Crossing the mountain, they reached the house of Major Decker, then pushed on over
an Indian trail seventeen miles further. How many of our