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History of Orange County
Town of Montgomery
Page 32
CHRISTIAN COON.—This old man is strongly associated with our boyish days; for he was a soldier, tinker and trumpeter—any one of which occupations was calculated to interest the feelings and imagination of a youthful mind. He had been in the war, and could produce the loudest blasts from his wonderful brazen horn; and that was enough to seduce the affections and fasten admiration upon his character as a hero.
This man, we believe, was one of the Hessian troops hired by England of the Prince of Hesse Cossel, and sent out here to fight her battles and reduce the rebels to subjection. He was taken prisoner at the battle of Trenton, December 26, 1776, where many of his fellows shared the same fate, and subsequently entered the American service and remained in the army till the war ended. In some engagement he received a sabre cut on the arm, for which he drew a pension during life, without which he could not have supported himself. We name this old patriot and friend for the purpose of relating two incidents in his after life, both of which are calculated to illustrate his course and true military bearing when far advanced in life.
At the time we speak of there was an association of young men, some residing in the western part of this town (now Crawford) and others in Shawangunk, Ulster county, who had banded themselves together to commit all kinds of tricks and perpetrate every species of deviltry, which they folly executed with impunity for several years. The longer the association continued their operations, the bolder and more pestilent they became—till, finally, they did deeds worthy indictment and prison. To relate them would unreasonably extend our paper, of which brevity is its characteristic.
Among other subjects for, fun and deviltry, two members of the club—which, by the way, went by the descriptive name, of the “Hopewell Club” or “Hellfire Crew “—Selected our old friend and trumpeter Coon; in which, however, as things turned out, waked up the wrong customer.— We do not recollect the offence done him or the trick perpetrated; but, whatever it was, roused the dormant energies and lion courage of the old soldier, which had slumbered within him for a quarter of a century, and he seized his musket, captured his assailants, and at the point of the bayonet drove them like craven dogs before him, on the public highway for several miles, till he came to the first Justice, to whom he delivered them up. The officer received them, penned up like so many cattle in the corner of a horseshed. This heroic act of trumpeter Coon, while it gained him much credit and applause, derided and deeply mortified the prisoners, and fairly turned the tables of fun and trick upon themselves. The cream of the joke was, the musket was not loaded, nor had it been in twenty years and about as liable to go off and injure a person as if it had neither lock, stock nor barrel. The young men were asked why they did not run off and escape. They answered “we did not know what the old devil would do.” In justice to Coon, we can say this act of his, did more to put down the tricks and evil doings of a the crew than any other one incident.
Many years after this, a man by the name of E. Truesdell challenged him to fight a duel. It was accepted by him as a matter of favor. The friends of the parties appointed the time of meeting; the place was the bridge across the Walkill at Montgomery. When all was ready and arranged the parties fired, and TruesdelI fell covered with blood. The friends and spectators crowded around him to learn the mortal nature of the wound. Coon, in the pride of station and dignity of a sentinel on duty, never moved from his position; and when his friends approached him, asked if Truesdell wanted another shot. He was told that Truesdell was mortally wounded, would die, and he must escape; but the old soldier cooly replied, “It was of his own seeking,” and refused to flee; and in a few minutes, with the dignity of a well trained soldier in discharge of a high duty, left the ground amidst the huzzas and congratulations of the multitude, to return home and cool his Revolutionary fire with a few blasts of his trumpet. Without Coon’s knowledge, the arms used were not loaded, and the blood was provided from a butcher's stall in the vicinity.