Saturday, December 24, 2016

Off the Hook: The Murder of Caleb Wallace

The Pioneer Cemetery
Oakland Cemetery, Warren
“This place is huge,” Mike stated as we entered the sacred grounds of Oakland Cemetery, which rests on the south bank of the Allegheny River overlooking Warren. “Where are we going to start?”

“We’re not looking for a grave in Oakland Cemetery,” I responded as I drove slowly through the grounds of the cemetery. “We’re actually looking for a grave on the hill behind the cemetery."

"Oh?" I had caught Mike's curisoity

"We're heading to the Pioneer Cemetery located on the hillside behind the cemetery."

I parked at the rear of the cemetery near a simple sign announcing that the “Pioneer Cemetery/Potter’s Field” was an eighth of a mile up the hill behind Oakland Cemetery along an old road that was cut through the forest. A couple steps into the woods sent a doe and her little one running across the road and through the woods and in the distance we could hear turkeys gobbling, making the short walk more enjoyable.

Our walk ended at the twin row of old stones resting just off the roadway among a sea of ferns. The old cemetery was moved here after the founding of Oakland Cemetery in 1863, being moved from its location in Warren in the section of land located between Fourth and Fifth Avenues and from East to Water Streets.

The old stones of the Pioneer Cemetery
The center one is the grave of Caleb Wallace
While Pioneer Cemetery is the name this piece of sacred ground is called in the modern day, the historical name of the cemetery is the Old Fifth Street Cemetery. A handful of sources lists the Pioneer Cemetery as the Old East Street Cemetery, another name that the cemetery has been referred to due to its location along East Street.

Originally those living in town were buried on a piece of ground now known as the Whetmore Cemetery in North Warren. In the spring of 1823 the decision was made to purchase two plots of land along the banks of the Conewango Creek and have them laid out as a resting place for Warren’s residents. No sooner was the land purchased than the first burial occurred. That first burial was Mrs. Patience Gilson on April 4, 1823. Mrs. Gilson was the widow of John Gilson, the first settler in what is now Warren. Sadly John passed away in 1811 and lies in an unmarked grave in Whetmore Cemetery.

The second burial in the Fifth Street Cemetery was Eli Granger. Only weeks before his death he selected the spot he wished to be buried at if anything should happen to him.  After he drowned in the Conewango Creek, he joined Mrs. Gilson in an eternal slumber in the Fifth Street Cemetery.

Many of the early burials in this piece of ground, like those in the Whetmore Cemetery, were not marked and so it is not known how many others buried in this sacred piece of land have disappeared over the years. There are stories to this day about human remains still being found in the yards of the houses that have been built on the grounds where the Pioneer Cemetery once existed.

The stones that still exist on the wooded hill above Oakland Cemetery show that the cemetery was active from 1824 to 1854. There were forty-nine burials listed in the old cemetery, but only thirty-one of the graves were marked with stones. The eighteen unmarked graves were either unidentified people or paupers who could not afford a stone.

The grave of Caleb Wallace
 I quickly found the stone I sought and read it carefully, taking in the history that is recorded on the stone.

"In memory of
Caleb Wallace
Who in the discharge of
His duty to which he was
Caled (sic) by a civil officer
Was inhumanly shot dead
While in attempt to
Arrest Jacob Hook on
The 25th of March 1824
Aged 28 years”

Caleb Wallace would become the third body buried in the old cemetery and his murder was one of the most talked about events in the early years of Warren County. The man who killed him got away with murder.

Jacob Hook first arrived in Warren County in 1812 and started lumbering in the region. With his brother, Orin (also spelled Orren), he set up a number of lumber mills between four and five miles up the Allegheny River from the town of Warren. Jacob was a bachelor described as having a strong will, lots of energy, very opinionated, and uncultured, which would be the cause of many of his problems.

In the spring of 1824, a suit was brought against him by a hired hand who was in a quarrel with Jacob over unpaid wages. Hook was accused of lying about the unpaid wages and a warrant was issued for his arrest for the perjury.

On the morning of March 25, 1824, Deputy Asa Scott (who was acting as sheriff due to Sheriff Littlefield being sick at the time) approached Hook’s cabin and asked him to return to town with him. Jacob was irate. Not because of the warrant, but because he had been in Warren every day the week before for business and nothing had been done about the warrant while he was in town. Instead they were bothering him on the one day he didn’t want to go to town and that he would be in town Monday to answer the charges.

Scott returned to Warren to report Jacob’s response. After Deputy Scott conferred with a number of sources, he was encouraged to form a posse to bring Jacob Hook in. The posse consisted of Deputy Scott, Caleb Wallace, Perry Sherman, James Arthur, and two or three other men who haven’t been identified.

The path to the Pioneer Cemetery
The posse arrived at the cabin of Jacob Hook after dark. Arthur, who was on friendly terms with Hook, approached the cabin and begged Jacob to return peacefully to Warren with the men. Hook told Arthur that he was not going with them and any attempt to enter his cabin would be met with violence.

After Arthur returned with Hook’s response Scott, Wallace and Sherman approached the door and found the door locked. Scott broke the door down and the trio was met with a musket blast of slug shot. One of the slugs caught Wallace in the chest and killed him instantly. Other slugs hit Sherman in the arms, shattering it. The only thing that saved Deputy Scott’s life was the fact he fell to the floor when the door was forced open.

The posse retreated that evening to a neighboring house to watch Hook’s cabin. The next morning Hook awoke and stepped outside to see the aftermath of the previous night’s events. Though he was aware he had wounded somebody he claimed he had not realized that he had killed somebody when he fired the gun.

The next day, Jacob Hook surrendered himself. He was arrested and placed in prison for Wallace’s murder.

On June 2, 1824 the trial of Jacob Hook began. On June 14 the jury returned after a twenty minute recess with the verdict of “not guilty.” Hook’s lawyer argued that Deputy Scott was not under seal; even though the warrant was valid, Deputy Scott had no right to enforce it. The men breaking into Jacob’s house that evening were trespassers and he had the right to defend himself from an armed posse.

In a strange turn of events, which may be the reason behind the quick decision by the jury, Jared Dunn, who was one of the men on the jury, committed suicide the day after the trial. It was said he suffered from a weakness of the mind. He had been heard saying that he had accepted a bribe to find Jacob not guilty and he was no better alive than dead. When he was asked how much he received he responded with no more than the rest of the jury and accused the judge at the trial of taking money from Hook. He was survived by a wife and seven children. His wife did affirm that she had discovered a large sum of money after Jared’s death, but did not know how he had received it.

The Pioneer Cemetery, located at the end of the path
The stones stand among a sea of ferns
I stood there paying my respects to Caleb and could not help but feel sorrow and anger at his murder and the fact that Jacob Hook got away with it. How Scott, an officer of the law, was not allowed to enforce the law mystifies me. Jacob might have been found not guilty in the eyes of the court, but public opinion remained against him. He was publicly shunned and critized by the residents of Warren. Hook would only enjoy this victory for a few more years. He would die in 1827 while in Pittsburgh on business due to the effects of a swelling on his neck.

I finished paying my respects to Caleb and the others buried here before Mike and I left this sacred place in silence as those of long ago continued their eternal slumber beneath the forest canopy.

As with any and every cemetery, please be respectful and use extreme caution while visiting. Due to the age of the stones, they are fragile and a misstep could cause the stones to break.

Sunday, December 18, 2016

The Ashtabula Train Disaster

Site of the Ashtabula Train Disaster, Ashtabula, Ohio
The modern bridge stands where the disaster occurred
“Are you sure you know where you are going?” Zech asked as I parked at Cedarquist Park that sits along the eastern bank of the Ashtabula River.

“I know exactly where we need to go,” I laughed. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been here.” Though it had been four years since I had last visited the spot, the location was still fresh in my mind. With Zech in tow I had returned to the region to do a little exploring and to get better pictures of some of the places I had visited during my first visit to the Ashtabula region of Ohio.

“We’re going to have to take a little walk through the woods,” I continued. We followed a path through the woods and as we got closer to our destination I could hear the sound of falling water. We made a short detour to visit a waterfall near the spot of the disaster. As we were photographing it the sound of a train passing above could be heard, but from our location we could not see it.

Waterfall near the disaster site
After we finished we walked over to the Ashtabula River and jumped down the bank onto the rocks that jutted out of the shallow river. Standing here we could see the modern bridge that crosses the river. On the night of disaster the icy waters of the creek were waist high, but on this day it averaged about one foot deep, though in some spots it may have been deeper, but not by much.

It was at this spot on the cold, snowy, windy night of December 29, 1876, one of the worst disasters in Ohio’s history occurred; a disaster that would be known as “The Ashtabula Horror.”

From all accounts the bridge was a scary sight to behold. The iron bridge was bolted and braced together for a length of one hundred and fifty feet and had little support as it spanned seventy feet over the Ashtabula River.

A blizzard raged outside as the residents of the community settled in for the day. Forty mile an hour winds blew snow wildly around. Snow was already three feet deep and due to the drifting it was over six feet deep in spots. The temperature was roughly ten below zero on that fateful day.

Roughly 7:30 that evening the Lake Shore and Michigan Southern Railway Train Number 5 crossed the bridge. The train consisted of two engines pulling eleven cars. The first of the two engines managed to make it safely across the bridge before it collapsed, allowing the rest of the train to fall into the gorge. It did stay connected for a short period of time, but soon broke loose and fell into the gorge.

Memorial to the unidentified dead
Chestnut Grove Cemetery
While the collapse was terrible enough, the wreckage caught fire from the stoves in the passenger cars. In the aftermath of the disaster, stories of heroic acts arose from the brave citizens who attempted to rescue the trapped souls. Sadly stories of people who performed evil acts of stealing from the dead also were reported.

The result was ninety-two of the one hundred and fifty-nine passengers and crew were killed. A number of the passengers were burned so badly they could not be identified. Among those unidentified bodies were the remains of the famous hymn writer Philip Bliss and his wife, Lucy. The story of Philip Bliss can be found herePhilip Bliss.

Please see the note at the end of this article about the number of passengers and those killed as a result of this disaster.

Little remains of the disaster site. The river flows under a modern bridge that still carries trains. Without knowing what the site looked like in the aftermath of the disaster it is almost impossible to imagine what the scene of horror appeared to the survivors and rescuers.

Zech and I left the park and headed south on Main Avenue before turning onto Grove Drive. Following the road, we were soon entering Chestnut Grove Cemetery. We followed the small signs along the roadways to the memorial which stands atop the hill overlooking the cemetery. We found a spot to park that would allow other vehicles to pass safely and walked over to the large monument.

Base of the memorial
The obelisk sits atop the graves of the unknown victims of the disaster. On one side is a listing of some of the known victims, but who were not able to be identified. Another side of the memorial states the disaster and the date. The monument was unveiled on May 30, 1895.

Chief Engineer Charles Collins, who had inspected the bridge ten days before its collapse,  was present during the disaster’s aftermath and worked in the waist deep freezing waters of the river to rescue victims. In the days after the disaster, Charles would often break down and publicly cry about the disaster. He attempted to resign his position but the railroad refused to accept it. Charles supposedly committed suicide shortly after giving his testimony to the investigative jury.

Modern sources have denounced the suicide theory. One of the doctors who first examined Collins’ body questioned it, stating that it was not a case of suicide. Who killed Charles? Was his death a result of his testimony against the railroad? Or was he killed by one of the disaster’s survivors? Or maybe he was murdered by the family of one of the victims? While the answer will never be known, it is known he is buried in the mausoleum located about fifty yards away from the train disaster memorial.

Some claim to see him and other shadows in the area around the memorial, but on this sunny day I found nothing out of the ordinary. These same people are those who claim the sounds of the train disaster are still heard from time to time, but as I wandered about the area I heard nothing out of the ordinary.

Base of the memorial
It notes Philip Bliss by name but not his wife, Lucy
Amasa Stone, the railroad mogul who had designed and built the bridge refused to accept any of the blame for the bridge collapse claiming it had been an act of God that destroyed the bridge. Stone even went as far as claiming that the act of God set the train on fire because there could be no way the stoves in the passenger cars could have caught the wreckage on fire. Stone remained defiant until the end. Seven years after the disaster, Stone committed suicide and was buried in Lake View Cemetery in Cleveland.

After saying another short prayer for the dead, I left the area in silence, remembering not only the famous Pennsylvanian taken in his prime, but all of those who lost their lives on that cold winter's night.

If you make the journey to the disaster site and the memorial in Chestnut Grove Cemetery, I do ask you visit it with the reverence and the respect that both areas deserve.

Base of the memorial
A note about the number of people onboard and the number of victims: The exact number of victims will never be known, but most sources place the number at ninety-two. I’ve seen the number of victims ranging from eighty-three to ninety-eight, but ninety-two seems to be the most repeated number.

The exact number of people onboard the train that evening also has been debated. I’ve seen numbers ranging from one hundred and fifty-nine (which is the most repeated number) upward to three hundred people. The number one hundred and fifty-nine comes from a guess based upon the number of tickets in the conductor’s possession. Even the memories of the survivors add confusion to the people onboard. Some claim that the cars were mostly empty while others remember the train as being packed. The total passengers onboard does not take into consideration any railroad employees onboard or others onboard who did not have to purchase a ticket for one reason or another.

The exact number of the unidentified dead is truly unknown. I have found newspaper articles that list nineteen to thirty unidentified bodies. Most sources list twenty-five unidentified bodies, which is the number of names on the monument in Chestnut Grove Cemetery and the number that seems to be fairly consistent with most early sources regarding the disaster. These names are people known to have been onboard but were burned beyond recognition, so they were not able to be positively identified.

Many sources claim that there were only nineteen unidentified victims, despite there being twenty-five names listed on the monument. I was able to discover a source for this confusion: there were twenty-two unidentified victims buried in nineteen graves at Chestnut Hill Cemetery in the immediate aftermath of the disaster. The nineteen graves that were originally dug is, I believe, the source for there only being nineteen unidentified victims. The other three unidentified bodies were buried after the original mass burial.

Sunday, December 11, 2016

Philip Bliss: Hymn Writer

Rome Cemetery, Rome
PA Historical Marker for Philip Bliss
The Bliss Cenotaph is large white stone
In the background
I’ve always wanted to visit Rome.

And one cold April morning I arrived in the small community of Rome - that is - Rome, Pennsylvania.

Located along Route 187, the Rome Cemetery is marked with a familiar blue Pennsylvania Historical Marker that memorializes the local resident for his contributions to musical history. Parking in the church lot across the road from the cemetery, I stepped out into the cold and crossed over to read the blue marker. Only once I took in the information presented on the sign did I wander towards the large stone in the middle of the cemetery.

The stone is a cenotaph: the people memorialized on the stone are not buried here. The remains of Philip and Lucy Bliss are buried in a common grave in Chestnut Grove Cemetery in Ashtabula, Ohio.

Philip was born in Clearfield County near the present day town of Penfield, the son of a Methodist pastor. Shortly after his birth his family moved to Rome. The house Philip grew up in still exists and serves as a museum.

One of the sides of the memorial
A side note: There has always been some debate on the location of Philip’s birth. Some sources place his birth at Rome, but the most sources place his birth just east of Penfield on July 9, 1838. Even the memorial in the Rome Cemetery states that he was born in Clearfield County. I believe early writers assumed that because Rome was his boyhood home that he was born here. A Pennsylvania Historical Marker noting his birthplace stands alongside Route 255 east of Penfield.

He had very little formal education, receiving most of his lessons from his devout parents, teaching him mostly from the Bible. During his childhood Philip’s father passed his love of music on to his son.

When he was roughly six years old, Philip’s family moved to Trumbull City in Ohio. A couple years later the family returned to Pennsylvania, settling in the town of Tioga. At the age of ten he first heard a piano being playing and upon hearing it he realized that he wanted to pursue his love of music.

 Philip left home at the age of eleven and for the next five years he worked in various lumber camps. The following year he made his first public confession of his devotion to Christ at the Baptist Church in Cherry Flats, Pennsylvania.

At the age of seventeen he moved to Bradford (town) to finish the requirements to become a teacher and the following year he was teaching at the school in Hartsville, New York. In 1857, his life would change when he met J.G. Towner, who ran a vocal school in Towanda. Towner gave Bliss his first formal vocal lessons. That same year Philip would attend a musical convention in Rome, Pennsylvania, where he first met William Bradley, a writer of sacred music. Bradley convinced Bliss to devote his life to writing music for the Lord’s service.

The following year (1858), Philip returned to his childhood home and started teaching at the Rome Academy, where he met Lucy Young, whom he married the following year. They would have two sons, George and Philip.

By that time, Philip had enough information and ability to become a traveling music teacher. Taking with him his melodeon, he and his old horse traveled from community to community sharing his love of music with his students.

Base of the Bliss Memorial
It tells of their deaths that happened
Due to the Ashtabula Train Disaster
In the summer of 1860, with money given to him by his wife’s grandmother, Philip attended the Normal Academy of Music in New York. Graduating from the six week intensive study program, Philip was officially recognized as a music teacher. He did not settle at one shool, but continued his route of teaching in the various communities in the region.

While Philip enjoyed teaching, his passion was turning to composition.

In 1864, the Bliss family moved to Chicago, where Philip worked at a variety of musical institutes becoming a noted teacher and singer. That same year he wrote the composition Lorai Vale which would be published the following year. While the piece is not one of the sacred pieces Philip is known for, it was a recognition of his talent and provided a starting point in his life.

Also in 1864, Philip did a two week concert tour with Mr. Towner. Amazed at the success of the venture, he planned a second tour but this one was a complete failure. The one positive thing that came out of his failed tour was a job offer from a Chicago based music house, Root and Cady Musical Publishers.

In 1869, Philip’s life would take a step in following his life’s calling. One evening he stopped at a revival being held by Dwight L. Moody, a well-known evangelist of the time. Philip was soon leading the singing in the meetings. When Moody left for England in 1873, he asked Philip to go along, but he declined the offer. Moody would gain international recognition while traveling throughout England.

That same winter, Moody wrote again to Bliss asking him to once again to consider devoting his life and works to the Lord. In a prayer meeting, Philip decided that this was his calling and he turned completely to missionary work, using his royalties to finance his missionary endeavors.

What Philip didn’t know was he only had a short time remaining. He would join forces with Major Daniel Whittle and together they lead a number of revival services throughout the Ohio Valley.

On December 29, 1876, Philip’s successful career came to an end. The Bliss’s had spent the holidays with family back in Rome, Pennsylvania. Philip was planning on returning to Chicago in January to work on some new compositions, but received word that they wanted him to return sooner. Leaving his two sons with his mother, the couple started home towards Chicago.

Disaster would happen when the train they were riding in fell into the Ashtabula River in Ohio. Flood waters had weakened the wooden structure and while the first engine made it across successfully, the rest of the train fell into the river when the bridge collapsed. The wreck was soon on fire.

Philip managed to crawl through a window to safety, but when he realized that Lucy was trapped, he returned into the flames to be with her. They both perished in the blaze.

Pennsylvania Historical Marker honoring Philip Bliss
Among the things that survived the wreck were the words for the only song still sung by congregations that Philip did not write the music to: (I Will Sing of) My Redeemer. 

Other famous hymns Philip wrote the music and/or the lyrics to include: Almost Persuaded, Hallelujah, What a Saviour!, Let the Lower Lights Be Burning, The Light of the World Is Jesus, Whosoever Will, Wonderful Words of Life and It Is Well with My Soul.

As I stood there I reflected upon the love Philip had for his wife. Philip had made it safely out of the wreck and, had returned into the burning car in an attempt to free her. While some may question his sanity, I couldn't help but marvel at the love he must have had to be willing to return to his wife's side knowing he would be sacrificing his survival to be with the woman he loved.

The Rome Cemetery is located just north of town along Route 187. Parking is available across the road from the church. Their cenotaph is one of the largest stones in the cemetery and is in a straight line behind the Pennsylvania Historical Marker for Philip Bliss. As with all cemeteries, if you choose to visit Rome Cemetery, please be respectful during your visit.

While Philip's story ends here I cannot tell it without talking about the Ashtabula Train Disaster, which can be found here: The Ashtabula Train Disaster.


Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Along the Way: Bedtime for Bonzo

Grave of Bonzo
Hearthside Rest Pet Cemetery
Hidden just southwest of the junction of Interstates 79 and 90 among the rolling hills of Elk Valley is Hearthside Rest Pet Cemetery. I stepped out of the vehicle and looked around the peaceful spot located on the banks of Elk Creek.

Despite the peacefulness of the area, it felt strange that I was visiting a pet cemetery. In my journeys around the state, this was the first one I purposely stopped at to search for a specific grave. Yet on this occasion I sought out the final resting place of a celebrity buried here among the beloved pets on this sacred piece of land.

Looking at all of the similar markers, I knew I had before me an adventure just to find one particular stone in a sea of them. I unfolded the piece of paper that had vague directions to the grave I sought. After walking a couple of rows, a truck pulled in and the caretaker walked over and asked me if I needed help.

“I heard that you have a celebrity buried here.”

“Oh, you’re searching for Bonzo,” he observed. “He’s a couple more rows over.” I followed him to the final resting place of the cemetery’s most famous resident, a chimpanzee known to the world as Bonzo.

Bonzo's rise to fame occurred in 1952 when he starred in the movie Bonzo Goes to College. The film about a chimpanzee who goes to college and plays football also starred Maureen O’Sullivan and Edmund Gwenn.

In researching the life of Bonzo, I discovered that the Bonzo in Bedtime for Bonzo was not the Bonzo who is buried in the Hearthside Rest Pet Cemetery. There were actually two different chimpanzees who starred as Bonzo.

The first Bonzo was a chimpanzee named Peggy. Yes, the male chimpanzee in the movie was protrayed by a female one. Peggy had performed in a number of the Jungle Jim movies and was supposed to appear in a series of Bonzo movies. Sadly Peggy, her stand-in, and two other chimpanzees were killed in a fire in 1951 shortly after the release of Bedtime for Bonzo. Some places state that Peggy is the chimpanzee buried here, but this is not the case.

The second Bonzo (the one buried at Hearthside Rest Pet Cemetery) was a male chmpanzee whose actual name was Bonzo. He starred in the second film in the series, Bonzo Goes to College, During his time in the spotlight Bonzo toured the country, appearing on a number of television specials. As far as I can determine it appears he never appeared in any other movies after starring in Bonzo Goes to College.

Sadly Bonzo’s fame soon faded. He was placed in a circus during his later years, which promoted his celebratory status as a means of bringing people in to see the carnival. While the circus was in Erie in 1969, Bonzo became ill and passed away. A local vet offered to have him buried in this peaceful location.

While talking with the caretaker, I discovered that over 3100 pets are buried here, along with some of their owners. In the time spent talking with him, I gained a newly found appreciation for pet cemeteries. After taking a couple of minutes to explore the cemetery, I left it, wiping away a tear at the thought of the pets I’ve had over the years.

Finding Bonzo’s grave is a little bit of a challenge. Parking in the small lot,look towards the cemetery. There is a small cluster of trees in the center of the cemetery. Bonzo is buried halfway between these trees and the pines to the left as you are looking into the cemetery in almost in a straight line between the two.

As with all cemeteries, please be respectful of the area.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

The Sugarloaf Massacre

Monument for the Sugarloaf Massacre
Let me tell you a story that happened on the Pennsylvania frontier in 1780. it is a story that I thought I knew well and it goes like this....

It starts in early September when a group of militia were patrolling the frontier searching for raiding Indians and Tories. The men were a part of Captain Van Etten’s militia led by Captain Daniel Klader. They were camping along the Little Nescopeck Creek when they were ambushed by a group of Indians led by Seneca Chief Roland Montour. In the chaos, fourteen men were killed and a number of them taken captive.

However, I made the mistake of letting a good story get in the way of the truth and the more I researched this incident the more I realized I didn't know the story like I thought I did.

But, that story was what first brought me to the monument located along Walnut Road, just east of the community of Conyngham.

“So where exactly are you planning on parking?” mom asked as I came to a halt in front of the monument. It had been a couple years since I first visited the monument and had returned on a recent trip through the region to take pictures of the memorial.

“Right here,” I replied as I put the four-ways on and jumped out of the vehicle. Walnut Road, which the monument stands next to, didn’t seem very busy during this visit and I silently hoped that traffic stayed away until I was finished.  The plaque on the marker states:

Near this spot occurred
The Sugarloaf Massacre
On September 11, 1780 a detachment of
Captain John Van Etten's Company
Northampton County Militia
Resting at the spring was
Surprised by a band of Indians
And Tories led by Seneca Chief
Roland Montour

Beneath these words is a listing of fifteen names of the men who were victims of the massacre.

In the woods behind the monument is a grave marker for a Captain Daniel Klader. The simple stone is inscribed “Daniel Klader, Captain, Van Etten’s Co., Northampton Co. Militia, Died 1780.” The first time I visited the location, I followed a path to the nearby stone. The last two visits (once in the summer and once in the early fall) I was unable to locate the stone due to the undergrowth.

I first came across a mention of the Sugarloaf Massacre while doing research for other massacres that occurred within the state. It was only a small snippet of information which I recorded and set aside. A couple years later, I ran across that bit of information and began researching the history of the massacre, preparing to visit the location where it occurred.

What I didn’t know at the time, but was soon about to discover, was the information I first discovered about the massacre was incorrect.

The plaque on the monument
Searching through the regional histories, I found more information. The only correct detail in the original tidbit that I had found was the period of time leading up to the massacre.

In September 1780 a large band of Indians descended the Wyoming Valley before crossing into present-day Sugar Loaf Township. This raiding party is believed to be the same one that attacked Fort Rice (near present-day Turbotville) on September 6. A side note: I found a couple sources claiming that a group of Tories were also with the raiding party, but most of the sources I have at hand state it was an Indian raiding party. I cannot verify which one is correct..

Also in early September, a group of militia moved into the region. This group of militia was made up of thirty-one men. Another side note: the total number of the militia seems to be in debate. Like many of the details of the massacre this number may or may not be correct. Sources list the total number of men in the group as being anywhere from thirty-one to forty-one in strength: the most common number tends to be thirty-one men.

The sources all agree that on September 11, 1780, the group of militia were ambushed and defeated along the banks of the Little Nescopeck Creek. Lieutenant Myers was among the captured and managed to escape two days later.

While discovering what little has been recorded about the Sugarloaf Massacre, I found myself with a handful of questions to which I cannot find a definite answer.

The first question that arises is who was Captain Daniel Klader? I’ve only come across two histories that mention Klader and a handful of newspaper articles. It appears that Captain Daniel Klader mysteriously appears in one of the retellings of the massacre.

I searched through the "Pennsylvania State Archives Digital Revolutionary War Military Abstract Card File" and failed to find him. I did find a Jacob Clader who commanded a later group of Northampton Militia. I believe that one of the men who told the story mistakenly identified Jacob as Daniel and claimed that he was killed during the massacre. This mistake continued to be handed down with each telling and was never corrected until it became a part of regional lore.

If Daniel did not exist, then who was in charge of the group of militia? Sipe records in Indian Wars of Pennsylvania the man being in charge of the group was a Lieutenant Myers who was from Fort Allen. In Stone’s The Poetry and History of Wyoming, he records portions of Lieutenant John Jenkins who also states that Myers was in charge of the group of thirty-three men. Looking through the "Pennsylvania State Archives Digital Revolutionary War Military Abstract Card File," I found that there was a John Moyer, who was part of the Northampton Militia and while no rank is listed, I believe that this is the Lieutenant Myers mentioned in the histories.

Commemorating the 207th anniversary of
The Sugarloaf Massacre
Enevelope part of my personal collection
The next question that comes to mind is who was all killed in the massacre? Searching through the state archives digital "Revolutionary War Military Abstract Card File" I came up with two names listed as killed at the Sugarloaf Massacre, but actually had survived.

The first is Peter Crum (also spelled Croom). On his file card it is recorded that he served through early 1781 as a substitute. During the chaos of the attack he more than likely fled the scene and in returning to civilization went back to his normal life -- not back to the militia.

I also found a Peter Shelhamer in the files as surviving the massacre, but was unable to discover anything more about him.

I couldn’t help but question those responsible for the massacre. I have already questioned who made up the raiding party, but I had to now question who was leading the party. The plaque states that Roland Montour was responsible for the raiding party. Apart from the information on the plaque, I found no other early references stating he was leading (or even a part of) the raiding party.

As I stood there reading the plaque on the monument, I came to fully realize that this was no mere snippet of history, but an important piece of Pennsylvania's history as it reflected the violence that was occurring in the wilds of Pennsylvania at the time.

This was just one of the conflicts that was occurring in the region that had reached its apex with the Great Runaway in 1778, along with the butchering of 226 people in what is now known as the Wyoming Massacre (also in 1780) at present day Wilkes-Barre. These men had been deployed into an area still suffering from the horrific events of that massacre to bring peace to a violent region.

In my mind's eye I could see the dense growth that the militiamen had to make their way through so long ago; they had finally found a nice clearing in which to rest along the Little Nescopeck Creek. The searching for the raiding party had taken its toll upon them as they traveled and for one instant, they allowed their guard to drop as they rested. It was at that moment the raiding party discovered the militia and ambushed them. In the chaos, the men fled, tossing aside their weapons and packs to lighten their load as they fled. The dead were scalped and left where they fell, while they tied the hands of those men they captured.

The monument is located along Walnut Street in Conyngham. There is very little parking at the marker, so use caution.

Pennsylvania Historical Marker for
The Sugarloaf Massacre
And to add even more confusion to the Sugarloaf Massacre. The Pennsylvania Historical Marker lacated along Route 93 has information on it that is wrong (and yes they Historical Commission is aware of it but due to finances probably will never replace it with the correct information). The marker states that the unit attacked was from Northumberland County rather than Northampton County.

Sunday, November 27, 2016

A Haunting in Hickory Run

Hickory Run Cemetery
Hickory Run State Park
Hickory Run State Park, located a stone's throw south of Interstate 80 at the western edge of the Pocono Mountains, attracts countless visitors each year who come to explore the natural features of the park. The park’s 15,990 acres has more than forty-four miles of hiking trails for those seeking adventure. The most common destination in the park is the large boulder field which became a National Natural Landmark in 1967. In 1993, it would be declared a State Park Natural Area.

But I wasn't here to explore the boulder field.

I parked at the office and stepped out into the cool afternoon air. While others who were parked in the lot crossed the wooden bridge and hiked along the Shades of Death Trail, Zech and I crossed the road, pausing long enough to take some pictures of Hickory Run before walking up the trail that led to the old cemetery. Though not handicapped accessible, the path is an easy walk up the bank to the cemetery.

The cemetery rests beneath a canopy of pine allowing their needles to carpet the ground hiding many of the broken stones. Despite the road being only feet away, the area seemed so quiet and peaceful. Many of the stones that remain are weathered and the cemetery is in poor condition overall, but that did not stop me from studying the stones of those who originally settled the area. At one time a stone wall surrounded this piece of sacred ground, but most of the wall has vanished with time though it does still exist in a couple places around the perimeter of the cemetery.

Studying the stones, one date immediately caught my attention. October 30, 1849. It was the tragic events that happened in the early morning hours that would become the origin for one of the parks enduring stories.

Grave of Elizabeth
"Lizzie" Gould
The community of Hickory Run grew around the lumbering industry and at one point six saw mills existed on the creek. Floods in 1849 pretty much wiped the town out and a fire in 1875 wiped out many of the remaining mills and destroyed acres of forest. Only a handful of buildings remain from the time the community existed; these include the present park office and the chapel. Other foundations can be spotted among the trees and the old cemetery remains hidden on the hillside overlooking Hickory Run.

One of the early settlers in the area was Isaac Gould. Isaac and his wife, Susan, settled along Hickory Run about two miles above the town of the same name. They built a small cabin along the stream where they raised their seven children. Isaac made his living in the lumber industry and had several saw mills in the area.

Upstream from the Gould home, another saw mill was being constructed and the dam for this mill was being built on top of loose rock and quicksand. Isaac had approached the Philadelphia owner begging for him to halt construction, but Gould's pleas were ignored.

In October of 1849, Gould's fears were increased as a series of storms flooded the area. Weeks of rain had weakened the dam even more and on October 30th, tragedy struck.

Susan was at home alone with Joanna, Elijah, Caroline, and Winfield (the baby); Isaac was away that evening on business. I want to note that many versions of this story include other children of Susan and Isaac. Their daughter Susan had sadly passed away in 1836 and the youngest two, Isabella and William, had yet to be born.

Their daughter Elizabeth, who is most often referred to as Lizzie in most versions of the sad tale, arrived near dusk on the evening of October 29 after spending the day running errands. Her return brought news from town; many feared that the dam would not last through the night. Despite those fears Susan remained at the house, putting the children to bed. As the children slept, Susan remained awake that night watching and listening for danger.

Grave of the West children
At four o'clock that morning, she heard the noise she had dreaded. It started as a low rumble that grew louder and louder. I can only imagine the fear she felt as the realization that the dam had finally given away overcame her. A wall of water slammed into the Gould cabin with enough force that the building was lifted off of its foundation and moved roughly five hundred feet downstream. The wall of water was high enough that it completely submerged the one and a half story cabin.

After the wall of water had passed, Susan managed to break a hole in the roof and got her children onto the roof where they called for help. Two mill hands arrived in the aftermath of the destruction to help the family. All of the children were found safe, except one; Lizzie was missing. An initial search failed to find her.

Susan told their rescuers that she was not able to find Lizzie, but claimed that she could hear her calling out for her. Though none of the others could hear the phantom voice, the mill hands followed Susan and soon discovered Lizzie's lifeless body beneath a pile of driftwood near the house.
Lizzie was not the only one who lost her life that evening. Winfield, the baby, would later die from overexposure to the cold that night. The town blacksmith, Jacob West, lost his wife, Elizabeth, and four of his children (Diana, Jacob, Ursula, and Scott) in the flood waters of that fateful night. All of them are buried in the Hickory Run Cemetery under one stone.

Later investigation would prove that the dam collapsed due to being built on unstable ground.

As Zech and I explored the cemetery, I could not help but be overcome with a feeling of sadness. So many young, innocent lives had been lost in a disaster that could have easily been prevented. This feeling of sorrow seemed centered around one particular stone. When I passed the stone the first time I failed to notice whose grave it was. Zech knelt to look at it and revealed that it was the grave of Elizabeth “Lizzie” Gould.

Legend claims that Lizzie never found peace. Many have reported seeing the ghost of a young girl roaming the park. She has been spotted playing along the banks of Hickory Run and also in the forest surrounding the old cemetery. Some visitors have seen her walking along Route 534, which runs through the park. Others claim that on cold, rainy nights the sound of her crying can be heard.

But Lizzie may not be the only ghost haunting the park. Some have heard the sound of a woman’s voice calling out Lizzie’s name late at night. Could Susan’s ghost also be haunting the park searching for her daughter?

Zech and I finally left the cemetery after paying our respects to those buried there.

Hickory Run
Though we did not see her that day, I did have something that caused me to scratch my head and would cause me to return to the park to photograph the cemetery again. When I arrived home after our visit, I started going through the pictures I had taken that day. Every single picture turned out clear and in detail, except the three close-up pictures of Lizzie’s grave. All three of them were out of focus and it was only the pictures of her grave. I’ve been back to visit her grave a number of times since and have taken a number of pictures of her grave without any issues. I can't say it was paranormal, but I have a hard time figuring out why only three of forty-some pictures of the cemetery did not take correctly. I will admit it may have been something I did and just didn’t realize it, or maybe Lizzie did not want her stone photographed that day.

If you choose to visit this old cemetery at Hickory Run State Park, please use caution and respect. Though they are still legible, the stones are old and fragile. It seems each time I visit there are more stones broken, so please watch your step and be respectful.

To find Hickory Run Cemetery park at the office and look straight across the road; you'll see Hickory Run and the old chapel. Walk across Route 534 diagonally to the right and you should see an unmarked trail going up over the bank. The cemetery is roughly forty to fifty feet from Route 534 and if the leaves are off the trees, you can see some of the monuments from the road.