My Native Land - James Cox
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This attempt to assert woman's rights two hundred years ago was resented
very bitterly, and two enthusiastic witch-hunters were sent to her house
to entrap her into a confession. On the way they made inquiries, which
resulted in their being able to patch up a charge against the woman for
walking in ghostly attire during the night. When the detectives called
at the house she told them she knew the object of their visit, but that
she was no witch, and did not believe there was such a thing. The mere
fact of her knowing the object of their visit was regarded as conclusive
evidence against her, although a fair-minded person would naturally
suggest that, in view of local sentiment, her guess was a very easy one.
The poor woman was immediately arrested and placed on trial. Several
little children were examined, and these shouted out in the
witness-stand, that when the afflicted woman bit her lip in her grief,
they were seized with bodily pains, which continued until she loosened
her teeth. The chronicles of the court tell us, with much solemnity,
that when the woman's hands were tied her victims did not suffer, but
the moment the cords were removed they had fits.
Even her husband was called as a witness against her. His evidence does
not appear to have been very important or relevant. But another witness,
a Mrs. Pope, who appears to have been an expert in these matters, and to
have been called at nearly every trial, took off her shoe in court and
threw it at the prisoner's head, an act of indecorum which was condoned
on the ground of the evident sincerity of the culprit. The poor woman
was condemned, as a matter of course, and when she was removed to jail,
a deputation from the church of which she was a member called upon her
and excommunicated her. She mounted the ladder which led to the gallows
with much dignity, and died without any attempt to prolong her life by a
confession.
The fate of her husband was still more terrible. Notwithstanding his
zeal, and the fact that he had given evidence against his own wife, he
was arrested, charged with a similar offense. Whether hypnotic
influences were exerted, or whether the examining justices merely
imagined things against the prisoner, cannot be known at this time. The
court records, however, state that while the witnesses were on the
stand, they were so badly afflicted with fits and hurts, that the
prisoner's hands had to be tied before they could continue their
testimony. Unlike his wife, the poor man did not deny the existence of
witchcraft, and merely whined out, in reply to the magistrate's censure,
that he was a poor creature and could not help it. The evidence against
him was very slight, indeed, and he was remanded to jail, where he lay
unmolested, and apparently forgotten, for five or six months.
He was then excommunicated by his church, and brought before the court
again. Sojourn in jail seems to have made the old man stubborn, for when
he was once more confronted by his persecutors he declined to plead, on
the ground that there was no charge against him. An old obsolete English
law was revived against him, and the terrible sentence was pronounced
that for standing mute he be remanded to the prison from whence he came
and put into a low, dark chamber. There he was to be laid on his back,
on the bare floor, without clothing. As great a weight of iron as he
could bear was to be placed upon his body, and there to remain. The
first day he was to have three morsels of bread, and on the second day
three draughts of water, to be selected from the nearest pool that could
be found. Thus was the diet to be alternated, day by day, until he
either answered his accusation or died.
On September 19th, 1692, death came as a happy relief to the miserable
man, who had begged the sheriff to add greater weights so as to expedite
the end. This is the only case on record of a man having been "pressed
to death" in New England for refusing to plead, or for any other
offense. There are a few cases on record where this inhuman law was
enforced previously in England, but it was always regarded as a relic of
mediaeval barbarity, and the fact that it was revived in the witch
persecutions is a very significant one. After his death, an attempt was
made to justify the act by the statement that Corey himself had pressed
a man to death. This justification appears feeble, and to be without any
corroborative testimony.
Another very remarkable witch story has about it a tinge of romance,
although the main facts actually occurred as stated. A sailor named
Orcutt, left his sweetheart on one of his regular voyages, promising to
return at an early date to claim his bride. The girl he left behind him,
whose name was Margaret, appears to have been a very attractive,
innocent young lady, who suffered considerably from the jealousy of a
rival. Soon after the departure of her lover, the witch difficulty
arose, and the young girl was much worried and grieved at what happened.
On one occasion she happened to say to a friend that she was sorry for
the unfortunate witches who were to be hanged on the following day. The
friend appears to have been an enemy in disguise, and, turning to
Margaret, told her that if she talked that way she would herself be
tried as a witch. As an evidence of how vindictive justice was at this
time, the poor girl was arrested by the sheriff on the following day, in
the name of the King and Queen, on a charge of witchcraft. The young
girl was led through the streets and jeered at by the crowd. Arrived at
the court, her alleged friend gave a variety of testimony against her.
The usual stories about aches and pains were of course told. Some other
details were added. Thus, Margaret by looking at a number of hens had
killed them. She had also been seen running around at night in spectral
attire. The poor girl fainted in the dock, and this was regarded as a
chastisement from above, and as direct evidence of her guilt. She was
removed to the jail, where she had to lie on a hard bench, only to be
dragged back into court the following day, to be asked a number of
outrageous questions.
With sobs she protested her innocence, but as she did so, the witnesses
against her called out that they were in torment, and that the very
motion of the girl's lips caused them terrible pain. She was sentenced
to be hanged with eight other alleged witches two days later, and was
carried back, fainting, to her cell. In a few minutes the girl was
delirious, and began to talk about her lover, and of her future
prospects. Even her sister was not allowed to remain with her during the
night, and the frail young creature was left to the tender mercies of
heartless jailors.
A few hours before the time set for execution, young Orcutt sailed into
the harbor, and before daybreak he was at the house. Here he learned for
the first time the awful calamity which had befallen his sweetheart in
his absence. At 7 o'clock he was allowed to enter the jail, with the
convicted girl's sister. At the prison door they were informed that the
wicked girl had died during the night. Knowing that there was no hope
under any circumstances of the sentence being remitted, the bereaved
ones regarded the news as good, and although they broke down with grief
at the shipwreck of their lives, they both realized that, to use the
devout words of the victim's sister, "The Lord had delivered her from
the hands of her enemies."
The record of brutality in connection with the witch agitation might be
continued almost without limit, for the number of victims was very
great. Visitors to Danvers to-day are often shown by local guides where
some of the tragedies of the persecution were committed. The
superstition was finally driven away by educational enlightenment, and
it seems astounding that it lasted as long as it did. Two hundred years
have nearly elapsed since the craze died out, and it is but charitable
to admit, that although many of the witnesses must have been corrupt and
perjured, the majority of those connected with the cases were thoroughly
in earnest, and that although they rejoiced at the undoing of the
ungodly, they regretted very much being made the instruments of that
undoing.
CHAPTER III.
IN PICTURESQUE NEW YORK.
Some Local Errors Corrected--A Trip Down the Hudson River--The Last of
the Mohicans--The Home of Rip Van Winkle--The Ladies of Vassar and their
Home--West Point and its History--Sing Sing Prison--The Falls of
Niagara--Indians in New York State.
Residents in the older States of the East are frequently twitted with
their ignorance concerning the newer States of the West, and of the
habits and customs of those who, having taken Horace Greeley's advice at
various times, turned their faces toward the setting sun, determined to
take advantage of the fertility of the soil, and grow up with the
country of which they knew but little.
It needs but a few days' sojourn in an Eastern city by a Western man to
realize how sublimely ignorant the New Englander is concerning at least
three-fourths of his native land. The writer was, on a recent occasion,
asked, in an Eastern city, how he managed to get along without any of
the comforts of civilization, and whether he did not find it necessary
to order all of his clothing and comforts by mail from the East. When he
replied that in the larger cities, at any rate, of the West, there were
retail emporiums fully up to date in all matters of fashion and
improvement, and caterers who could supply the latest delicacies in
season at reasonable prices, an incredulous smile was the result, and
regret was expressed that local prejudice and pride should so blind a
man to the actual truth.
Yet there was no exaggeration whatever in the reply, as the experienced
traveler knows well. Neither Chicago nor St. Louis are really in the
West, so far as points of the compass are concerned, both of these
cities being hundreds of miles east of the geographical center of the
United States. But they are both spoken of as "out West," and are
included in the territory in which the extreme Eastern man is apt to
think people live on the coarsest fare, and clothe themselves in the
roughest possible manner. Yet the impartial and disinterested New York
or Boston man who visits either of these cities speedily admits that he
frequently finds it difficult to believe that he is not in his own much
loved city, so close is the resemblance in many respects between the
business houses and the method of doing business. Denver is looked upon
by the average Easterner almost in the light of a frontier city, away
out in the Rockies, surrounded by awe-inspiring scenery, no doubt, but
also by grizzly bears and ferocious Indians. San Francisco is too far
away to be thought very intelligently, but a great many people regard
that home of wealth and elegance as another extreme Western
die-in-your-boots, rough-and-tumble city.
This ignorance, for it is ignorance rather than prejudice, results from
the mania for European travel, which was formerly a characteristic of
the Atlantic States, but which of recent years has, like civilization,
traveled West. The Eastern man who has made money is much more likely to
take his family on a European tour than on a trip through his native
country. He incurs more expense by crossing the Atlantic, and although
he adds to his store of knowledge by traveling, he does not learn matter
of equal importance to him as if he had crossed the American continent
and enlightened himself as to the men and manners in its different
sections and States.
Nor is this sectional ignorance confined, by any means, to the East.
People in the West are apt to form an entirely erroneous impression of
Eastern States. The word, "East," to them conveys an impression of dense
population, overcrowding, and manufacturing activity. That there are
thousands and thousands of acres of scenic grandeur, as well as farm
lands, in some of the most crowded States, is not realized, and that
this is the case will be news to many. Last year a party of Western
people were traveling to New York, and, on their way, ran through
Pennsylvania, around the picturesque Horse Shoe Curve in the
Alleghenies, and along the banks of the romantic and historic
Susquehanna. A member of the party was seen to be wrapped in thought for
a long time. He was finally asked what was worrying him.
"I was thinking," was his reply, "how singular it is that the Republican
party ran up a majority of something like a hundred thousand at the
election, and I was wondering where all the folks came from who did the
voting. I haven't seen a dozen houses in the last hour."
Our friend was only putting into expression the thought which was
indulged in pretty generally by the entire crowd. Those who were making
the transcontinental trip for the first time marveled at the expanse of
open country, and the exquisite scenery through which they passed; and
they were wondering how they ever came to think that the noise of the
hammer and the smoke of the factory chimney were part and parcel of the
East, where they knew the money, as well as the "wise men," came from.
The object of this book being to present some of the prominent features
of all sections of the United States, it is necessary to remove, as far
as possible, this false impression; and in order to do so, we propose to
give a brief description of the romantic and historic River Hudson. This
river runs through the great State of New York, concerning which the
greatest ignorance prevails. The State itself is dwarfed, in common
estimation, by the magnitude of its metropolis, and if the Greater New
York project is carried into execution, and the limits of New York City
extended so as to take in Brooklyn and other adjoining cities, this
feeling will be intensified, rather than otherwise.
But "above the Harlem," to use an expression so commonly used when a
political contest is on, there are thousands of square miles of what may
be called "country," including picturesque mountains, pine lands which
are not susceptible of cultivation, and are preserved for recreation and
pleasure purposes, and fertile valleys, divided up into homesteads and
farms.
It is through country such as this that the River Hudson flows. It rises
in the Adirondack Mountains, some 300 miles from the sea, and more than
4,000 feet above its level. It acts as a feeder and outlet for numerous
larger and smaller lakes. At first it is a pretty little brook, almost
dry in summer, but noisy and turbulent in the rainy seasons. From
Schroon Lake, near Saratoga, it receives such a large quantity of water
that it begins to put on airs. It ceases to be a country brook and
becomes a small river. A little farther down, the bed of the river falls
suddenly, producing falls of much beauty, which vary in intensity and
volume with the seasons.
At Glens Falls the upper Hudson passes through a long defile, over a
precipice some hundred feet long. It was here that Cooper received much
of his inspiration, and one of the most startling incidents in his "The
Last of the Mohicans" is supposed to have been enacted at the falls.
When Troy is reached, the river takes upon itself quite another aspect,
and runs with singular straightness almost direct to New York harbor.
Tourists delight to sail up the Hudson, and they find an immense
quantity of scenery of the most delightful character, with fresh
discoveries at every trip. Millionaires regard the banks of the Hudson
as the most suitable spots upon which to build country mansions and
rural retreats. Many of these mansions are surrounded by exquisitely
kept grounds and beautiful parterres, which are in themselves well worth
a long journey to see.
Beacon Island, a few miles below Albany, is pointed out to the traveler
as particularly interesting, because four counties corner upon the river
just across from it. The island has a history of more than ordinary
interest. It used to be presided over by a patroon, who levied toll on
all passing vessels. Right in the neighborhood are original Dutch
settlements, and the descendants of the original immigrants hold
themselves quite aloof from the English-speaking public. They retain the
language, as well as the manners and customs, of Holland, and the
tourist who strays among them finds himself, for the moment, distinctly
a stranger in a strange land. The country abounds with legends and
romances, and is literally honeycombed with historic memories.
The town of Hudson, a little farther down the river, is interesting
because it was near here that Henry Hudson landed in September, 1609. He
was immediately surrounded by Indians, who gave him an immense amount of
information, and added to his store of experiences quite a number of
novel ones. Here is the mouth of the Catskill River, with the wonderful
Catskill Mountains in the rear. It will be news, indeed, to many of our
readers that in these wild (only partially explored) mountains there are
forests where bears, wild cats and snakes abound in large numbers.
Many people of comparative affluence reside in the hills, where there
are hotels and pleasure resorts of the most costly character. During the
storms of winter these lovers of the picturesque find themselves snowed
in for several days at the time, and have a little experience in the way
of frontier and exploration life.
The sunrises in the Catskills are rendered uniquely beautiful by the
peculiar formation of the ground, and from the same reason the thunder
storms are often thrilling in character and awful in their magnificence.
Waterfalls of all sizes and kinds, brooks, with scenery along the banks
of every description, forests, meadows, and lofty peaks make monotony
impossible, and give to the Catskill region an air of majesty which is
not easy to describe on paper.
Every visitor asks to be shown the immortalized bridge at Sleepy Hollow,
and as he gazes upon it he thinks of Washington Irving's unrivaled
description of this country. He speedily agrees with Irving that every
change of weather, and indeed every hour of the day, produces some
change in the magical hues and shapes of these mountains, and they are
regarded by all the good wives far and near as perfect barometers. When
the weather is fair and settled they are clothed in blue and purple, and
print their bold outlines on the clear evening sky, but, sometimes, when
the rear of the landscape is clear and cloudless, they will gather a
hood of gray vapors which, in the last rays of the setting sun, will
grow up like a crown of glory.
Here it was that Rip Van Winkle is supposed to have lived and slept, and
astonished his old friends and neighbors, and their descendants. The
path along which Rip Van Winkle marched up the mountain, prior to his
prolonged sleep, is shown to the tourist, who hears at his hotel, in the
conveyance he hires for the day, and among the very mountains
themselves, countless local legends as to Rip Van Winkle, and as to the
percentage of fact and fiction in Washington Irving's masterly
production.
If he is antiquarian enough to desire it, he can be shown the very spot
upon which Rip Van Winkle laid himself down to sleep. Local opinion
differs as to the exact spot, but there is so much faith displayed by
the people that no one can doubt that they are genuine in their beliefs
and sincere in their convictions. The tourist can also be shown the site
of the old country inn, upon the bench in front of which Rip Van Winkle
sat and astonished the natives by his extraordinary conversation, and
his refusal to believe that a generation had elapsed since he was in the
town last.
The chair upon which Dame Van Winkle is supposed to have sat, while she
was berating her idle and incorrigible lord and master, is also shown to
the visitor, and the more credulous ones gaze with interest upon a
flagon which they are assured is the very one out of which Rip Van
Winkle drank. The only thing needed to complete the illusion is the
appearance of the old dog, which the man who had so grievously overslept
himself was sure would have recognized him, had he put in his
appearance.
It is almost impossible to outlive one's welcome in the Catskill
Mountains, or to wear one's self out with sight seeing, so many are the
novelties which greet the gaze. The Catskills are abounding with
traditions quite as interesting and extraordinary as the Rip Van Winkle
story. They were known originally as the "Mountains of the Sky," a name
given them by the Indians, who for so many generations held them in
undisputed possession. Hyde Peak, the loftiest point in the Catskills,
was regarded by the Indians as the throne of the Great Spirit, and the
Dutch settlers who crowded out the Indians seem to have been almost as
generous in their superstitions and legends. These settlers dropped the
name, "Mountains of the Sky," and adopted the, to them, more euphonic
one of the Katzberg Mountains, from which the more modern name has been
adopted.
The village of Catskill deserves more than a passing notice. It is the
home of a large number of well-known people, including the widows of
many men whose names are famous in history. The old Livingston Manor was
located near the village, and a little farther down is Barrytown, where
the wealthy Astors have a palatial summer resort. A little farther down
the river are two towns with a distinctly ancient and Dutch aspect. They
were settled by the Dutch over two hundred years ago, and there are many
houses still standing which were built last century, so strongly did our
forefathers construct their homes, and make them veritable castles and
impregnable fortresses.
Another very old town on the Hudson is the celebrated seat of learning,
Poughkeepsie. Of this, it has been said that there is more tuition to
the square inch than in any other town in the world. The most celebrated
of the educational institutions at this point is the Vassar College, the
first ladies' seminary in the world, and the butt of so many jokes and
sarcasms. Poughkeepsie is not quite as old as the hills above it, but it
is exceedingly ancient. Here was held the celebrated State convention
for the ratification of the Federal Constitution, in which Alexander
Hamilton, Governor Clinton, and John Jay, and other men of immortal
names took part.
It is only comparatively recently that the first stone building erected
in this town was torn down, to make room for improvements, after it had
weathered storm and time in the most perfect manner for more than a
century and a quarter. At Newburgh, a few miles farther south, an old
gray mansion is pointed out to the visitor as Washington's headquarters
on several occasions during the Revolution. Fortunately, the State has
secured possession of the house and protects it from the hands of the
vandal.
This wonderful old house was built just a century and a half ago. A
hundred and twelve years ago Washington's army finally disbanded from
this point, and the visitor can see within the well-preserved walls of
this house the historical room, with its seven doors, within which
Washington and his generals held their numerous conferences, and in
which there are still to be found almost countless relics of the
Revolutionary War.
While sailing on the Hudson, a glimpse is obtained of West Point, the
great military school from which so many of America's celebrated
generals have graduated. West Point commands one of the finest river
passes in the country. The fort and chain stretched across the river
were captured by the British in 1777 (two years after it was decided
that West Point should be established a military post), but were
abandoned after Burgoyne's surrender. The Continental forces then
substituted stronger works. West Point thus has a history running right
back to the Revolutionary War, and the ruins of Forts Clinton and
Montgomery, which were erected in 1775, are in the immediate vicinity.
There are 176 rooms in the cadet barrack. There is no attempt at
ornamentation, and the quarters are almost rigid in their simplicity and
lack of home comfort. Not only are the embryo warriors taught the
rudiments of drill and warfare, but they are also given stern lessons in
camp life. Each young man acts as his own chambermaid, and has to keep
his little room absolutely neat and free from litter and dirt of any
kind.
The West Point Chapel is of interest on account of the number of tablets
to be found in it, immortalizing many of the Revolutionary heroes. A
winding road leads up to the cemetery, where are resting the remains of
many other celebrated generals, including Winfield Scott. The State Camp
meets annually at Peekskill, another very ancient town, replete with
Revolutionary War reminiscences. It was settled in the year 1764 by a
Dutch navigator, from whom it takes its name. Another house used by
General Washington for headquarters is to be found near the town, as
well as St. Peter's Church, in which the Father of his Country
worshiped.
Tarrytown is another of the famous spots on the Hudson. Near here
Washington Irving lived, and on the old Sleepy Hollow road is to be
found the oldest religious structure in New York State. The church was
built by the Dutch settlers in the year 1699, and close to it is the
cemetery in which Washington Irving was interred. Sunnyside, Irving's
home, is a most interesting stone structure, whose numerous gables are
covered with ivy, the immense mass of which has grown from a few slips
presented to Irving by Sir Walter Scott.