Brandt and the School-Girls
The name of Brandt was sufficient to strike the hearts of the early pioneers with terror. Fears of an attack from the Mohawk chief and his red kept the settlements in a continual ferment. Stories of pillage and murder, carried on under Brandt's direction, were passed from lip to lip-some doubtless without foundation, others greatly exaggerated-still the chieftain had committed deeds of blood sufficient to merit the reputation he bore.
Brandt was sufficient to strike the hearts of the early pioneers with terror. Fears of an attack from the Mohawk chief and his red kept the settlements in a continual ferment. Stories of pillage and murder, carried on under Brandt's direction, were passed from lip to lip-some doubtless without foundation, others greatly exaggerated-still the chieftain had committed deeds of blood sufficient to merit the reputation he bore. As might be expected, there were many false alarms, on which occasions the women and children would take refuge in the nearest block-house, while the men would arm themselves and prepare for the defense. The young people were particularly alert, and at the least unusual noise in the woods would sound the alarm. A young man in Sullivan county ran breathless into the nearest village declaring that his father's house was surrounded by more than twenty savages. The men turned out with their guns; but on reaching the scene of the supposed danger, the discovered the enemy to be only a number hoot-owls.
The dread of Indians overcame all other fear. It is related of Mrs. Overton of Mamakating valley, that, during the temporary absence of her husband. The young mother would abandon her log-cabin at night, and taking her children with her, sleep in the woods or in a rye-field. Tradition says that her youngest child was but a few weeks old and very cross and troublesome; but it was observed that at such times it was very quiet.
Mrs. Overton of Mamakating valley, that, during the temporary absence of her husband. The young mother would abandon her log-cabin at night, and taking her children with her, sleep in the woods or in a rye-field. Tradition says that her youngest child was but a few weeks old and very cross and troublesome; but it was observed that at such times it was very quiet. But if the people were sometimes needlessly alarmed, at other times it would have been greatly to their advantage to have been more on their guard. The day before the massacre at Minisink, the notorious Brandt, with a body of Tories and Indians, attacked the settlement in the present town of Deerpark. Such of the inhabitants as were warned of their danger in time, fled to the blockhouse for shelter. Others were surprised in their homes and in the field, and were either captured or slain.
Some savages entered James Swartout's blacksmith shop. In the shop were Mr. Swart and a Negro who assisted at the forge. Swart directed the Negro to stay in the shop as the Indians would not be likely to molest, while Swartout crawled up the forge chimney and concealed himself there. Scarcely had he done so when the savages rushed into the shop, and appeared much disappointed at finding no one but the negro present. They, however, contented themselves with rummaging about the shop, tumbling everything over, and making havoc of whatever came in their way. Presently one of them, spying the bellows handle, caught hold of it. Finding it would move, he began to operate the handle, which of course made the sparks fly. He now began blowing at a furious rate, and the other savages gathered round to see the operation. Swartout, being directly over the fire, was nearly suffocated by the heat and smoke. The negro, apprehensive that Swartout could not much longer retain his position, called upon the savage to desist, crying out with a voice of authority-“Stop, or you will spoil that thing.” The Indian respected the caution, and ceased to blow.
James Swartout's blacksmith shop. In the shop were Mr. Swart and a Negro who assisted at the forge. Swart directed the Negro to stay in the shop as the Indians would not be likely to molest, while Swartout crawled up the forge chimney and concealed himself there. Scarcely had he done so when the savages rushed into the shop, and appeared much disappointed at finding no one but the negro present. They, however, contented themselves with rummaging about the shop, tumbling everything over, and making havoc of whatever came in their way. Presently one of them, spying the bellows handle, caught hold of it. Finding it would move, he began to operate the handle, which of course made the sparks fly. He now began blowing at a furious rate, and the other savages gathered round to see the operation. Swartout, being directly over the fire, was nearly suffocated by the heat and smoke. The negro, apprehensive that Swartout could not much longer retain his position, called upon the savage to desist, crying out with a voice of authority-“Stop, or you will spoil that thing.” The Indian respected the caution, and ceased to blow. Not far away, near the fort of the Shawangunk, was the log school-house. The savages raided the settlement while the school was in session. While the fathers and mothers were fleeing for their own safety, they thought of their children, a mile or more away, and hoped the school-house might escape the attention of the savages. But in this they were doomed to disappointment.
Brandt and the School-Girls
The Indians entered, killed and scalped the teacher, Jeremiah Van Ankeu, in the presence of the scholars. Some of the larger boys shared the same fate, being cut down with the tomahawk; others succeeded in escaping to the woods. The girls stood by the slain body of their teacher, not knowing where to turn or what to do.
Jeremiah Van Ankeu, in the presence of the scholars. Some of the larger boys shared the same fate, being cut down with the tomahawk; others succeeded in escaping to the woods. The girls stood by the slain body of their teacher, not knowing where to turn or what to do. Presently an Indian came along, and dashed some black paint on their aprons, bidding them hold up the mark when they saw the Indians coming, and that would save them; and with the yell of a savage he sprang into the woods. This Indian was none other than Brandt; and as the savages ran about from place to place, murdering and scalping such as came in their way, on seeing the black mark they left the children undisturbed. The girls induced the boys to come out of the woods, and the children arranged themselves in rows, the girls with the marked aprons standing in front. As the Indians passed and repassed they would hold up the palladium of safety, and were suffered to remain unharmed.
Major John Decker resided in the Mamakating valley, and tradition says the Indians raided it for the purpose of obtaining his scalp, for which the British had offered a handsome reward. He was Major of the Goshen Regiment of Foot of Orange county. The Major's house was constructed of wood, with logs laid up by way of fortification, and was closed by a heavy gate. It was the month of July. The men were at work in the harvest field, and no one was in the house except the aged mother and a child. The Major's wife and a colored woman were at a spring washing.
A Tory entered and told the mother they were going to burn down the house, and proceeded to build a fire in the middle of the floor. Two pails of water stood in the kitchen; the old lady poured this on the fire and extinguished it. The Indians told her not to do that again or they would kill her. Mr. Decker attempted to run across the fields to another fort, but Brandt sent a savage to bring her back; coolly informing her that his object in having her brought back was that she might see her husband's house burn down; at the same time assuring her that she would not be harmed.
“Can I save anything?” cried the terrified woman.
“Yes, anything you can,” was the response of the Mohawk chief.
Mrs. Decker rushed into the burning dwelling, caught up two beds and bedding, one after the other, and , with the assistance of some young Indians that Brandt sent to her, brought them to a place of safety. That night the family of Major Decker slept on the banks of the Neversink, with no other covering than the canopy of heaven.
The Major was absent that day at a funeral; it was on his return that he had seen from afar the smoke of his burning dwelling. He put spurs to his horse, and presently met a party of Indians in the road. The Major rode directly through the party without being fired at. Then, probably through fear of encountering a larger force, he wheeled about and rode back again, when he was fired upon and wounded. His horse becoming unmanageable, he rode into a tree-top, closely pursued by the savages. Here he left his horse and took refuge in a cave, at a place near where the Erie railroad now passes. The Indians followed to the opening in the rock, but did not find the object of their search. That night he made his way on foot through the mountains to Finchville, where he found his son, who was one of the lads that had escaped slaughter at the school-house.
This son, on running away from the Indians at the time of the attack, found a child a year and a half old, which had been lost by its mother in the confusion. He took up the little child, found his father's cow by following the sound of the bell, gave the little one some milk, and restored it unharmed to its mother.
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