Craft Masonry in Oneida County, New York - Onondaga and ...

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John Post, the first merchant in what is now Utica, was engaged for some years previously to 1790, in connection with Mr. Martin,
of Schenectady, in trading with the sis nations. Particularly in the purchase of ginseng, then exported in large quantities to China, as
a supposed remedy for that fatal disease the Plague. Mr. Post was born at Schenectady in December, 1748, and faithfully served
his country during the entire period of the war of the Revolution. He belonged to the staff of the army, and was at the taking of
Burgoyne, in Sullivan’s expedition, in the battle of Monmouth, and at the surrendry [sic] of Cornwallis. In the spring of 1790, having
purchased and leased real estate near old Fort Schuyler, upon Cosby’s manor, he removed thither. With his wife and three infant
children and a carpenter, placing a stock of merchandize, furniture, provisions and building materials in boats.
He embarked upon the Mohawk at Schenectady, and in eight or nine days landed at his new home. So deep was the mud in the
road, now Genesee Street, that the children had to be carried to the log palace previously erected, where they all arrived “cold and
uncomfortable.” The persons then residing here were Uriah Alverson, John Cunningham, Jacob Christman. And Widow Damuth,
and their families, and probably some others named elsewhere, or whose names have not been ascertained. Christman served as a
boatman for Mr. Post several years, and removed to or near the farm now owned by Colonel Nicholas Smith, in the east part of the
town. In a communication recently received by the author from Mrs. Petrie, a daughter of Mr. Post, she says: “As the place was then
much resorted to, my father sold lots to mechanies and traders. The first settlers were men wanting in energy and enterprise, and he
re-purchased the lots of them, and soon sold to others, who also proved inefficient in building up the place, which my father fancied
would—must, considering its location, in due time, command much trade. Again he re-purchased the lots, and he did not wait long
before he, a third time, sold them to such men as became permanent residents and acquired a competency.” At first Mr. Post kept
his goods for sale in his dwelling, but in the next year (1791) he erected a building for a store, where he had an extensive trade with
the Indians and the early settlers of the surrounding country. Of the Indians he purchased furs, skins and ginseng, (called by them
Ka-lon-dag-gough, the panax trifolium,) in exchange for rum, paints, cloths, powder, shot, ornaments of various kinds, beads. Small
mirrors, etc., etc. It was a common occurrence that thirty or forty Indian men, women and children remained at his house through the
night, and if the weather was cold they occupied the floor in front of the immense kitchen fire of logs, but in summer they lodged in
the barn, or if too drunk to get into the barn, then they lay upon the grass plats by the side of the log and brush fences near the
corner of Genesee, Whitesboro and Main Streets. Mr. Post is said to have been a man of most strict integrity and great kindness of
heart, but the “ light of our day “ had not shown him the great wrong he inflicted upon the poor natives, by gratifying their
unconquerable passion and thirst for “ fire-water “ in the shape of New England rum. The store, owned and occupied by Mr. Post,
stood upon the northerly corner of Genesee and Whitesboro Streets, upon or near the site of the store now occupied by J. E.
Warner & Co., and he also subsequently had a store at Floyd, and another at Manlius.
While here, and under the influence of rum, the Indians frequently engaged in bloody fights, were frequently turbulent and
troublesome, and sometimes showed their knives when none but Mrs. Post and her children were in the house. In or about 1792,
the celebrated Saucy Nick entered the dwelling store with another Indian, and learning that Mr. Post was absent, they demanded in
most imperious and insulting tones of Mrs. P., pipes, “backer” and rum, Nick at the same time drawing his knife struck it into the
counter handle up, and also shut the door of the room. As they were about compelling Mrs. P. to draw more rum, she found ;in iron
rod upon the floor, and seeing a hired man, named Ebenezer Henderson, passing the window, she called him in. Nick would not
permit him to enter until he told him that he was called to get more rum. Mrs. P. then directed the man to throw the Indians out of the
house, she at the same instant striking the knife beyond their reach with the rod, and with her assistance, her order was literally
obeyed. Nick ever afterwards treated the family with proper respect. At another time, Sirs. P. interfered to put an end to a fight
among several Indians who had passed the night by the kitchen fire, when one of them rushed toward her with his knife. She seized
a chair with which she defended herself, until another Indian came to her relief by attacking her adversary. These instances are
given to show the perils and dangers under which the pioneers of this country began the work of reclaiming the forests to the use of
civilized man. And as a few of the many instances which might be given of the spirit and courage of the women of those days.
Mrs. Petrie says: “As ours was the first house which could accommodate travelers, a sign was put up, though reluctantly, and my
father kept tavern no logger than until some one with means, etc., could be prevailed on to leave a more privileged place to settle
here, for the sole purpose of keeping a tavern. In those days men in that business were very independent, and if travelers or
‘movers’ wished to ‘ put up’ at a tavern, they had to help themselves, water their own horses or oxen, harness or yoke them again,
and if they asked to be served with aught, the landlord or his family would sometimes ask, ‘who was your waiter last year?’
Sometimes, if persons did not look well to themselves, they received rough words and usage from these back-woods landlords.”’ At
that period, a sort of independence prevented the Yankees from doing anything which had the appearance of service. While Mr.
Post kept a tavern, upon one occasion, the celebrated Indian Chief, Joseph Brant, became his guest for a night. Brant was on his
way to Canada, from the seat of government, where he had been to transact some business with Congress.
A Mr. Chapin and another gentleman were also guests at the same time with him. The Chief called for one bottle of wine after
another, until they were all in a pretty happy mood, when the two gentlemen declined drinking any more. After being repeatedly
urged to drink, and as often declining, they were told by Brant sportively, that unless they drank he would pour it down their necks.
Becoming somewhat nettled at their decided refusal, Brant made some other proposition to Mr. Chapin, and from something said or
refused to be done by the latter, the Indian flew into a towering passion. Angry words passed, and Brant dared Chapin to fight him,
which the latter refused, and then tried by fair words and persuasion to satisfy the chief that no insult had been intended, but failing
in this, he made an effort to leave the room—and the rest of the company also attempted to calm the excited passions of the great
Mohawk warrior. Brant however drew his sword, and drove Chapin into a corner of the room, and there by the most bitter taunts and
reproaches, by making passes at him with his weapon, and by rushing furiously towards him, attempted to compel him to fight.
Chapin coolly bared his breast and said, “I will not lay hands upon you, but here is my bare breast, pierce it with your sword, if a
victim you wish.” Mrs. Post, at this crisis. Recollecting to have heard that an Indian could be moved by the sight of an infant,
instantly took her youngest child, but a few months old, and holding it in her arms, placed herself in front of the infuriated Brant,
telling him that he must destroy her and her child before he injured their guest and friend. “How would it have looked,” she
continued, “if several ladies had met here for a social visit, and they had ended it in strife? Put up your sword, and here, take my
babe and hold it as you often have the others—see, it smiles and you look so angry!” The heart of the savage Thayendanegea was
touched, he, who had reveled in scenes of blood and cruelty at Oriskany, and in the whole extent of the Mohawk valley, was now
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