steadily on to the Susquehanna, Chesapeake Bay, and the Atlantic, and from the same source several small tributaries bear on their ceaseless course to the Mohawk River, the Hudson, and to the Atlantic. The valley lies fifteen hundred feet above tide water and from either side rises hills, rugged and abrupt. It terminates three miles northeast of the village of Cherry Valley in Mount Independence, which may be considered the last spur of the Catskills. From here and from all parts of the northeast reaches out before one's sight a remarkably beautiful view. For over one hundred miles in extent the country lies spread out as an open book. The entire valley of the Mohawk is at your feet and large parts of the Adirondack region and away in the dim distance rise the lofty peaks of the Green Mountains of Vermont. Nothing is wanting but bodies of water to make the scene a marvelous one. In the very early morning the course of both historic rivers, the Mohawk and Hudson, can sometimes be followed when the mist rises from the water, a weird and ghostlike vision, but one which many can recall. Fenimore Cooper, whose home later was fourteen miles away, called this view "the finest in America," and lovers of this old town, whose youthful eyes feasted upon the outside world from this delightful outlook, will always agree with him.

From the Mohawk Valley leading up this rise to the Cherry Valley Creek and on to Oquago, now Brome County, about one hundred miles south, led one of the most famous trails of the Indians of the Six Nations. Connected with the outside. world by small but living arteries of water and by this trail, the first settlers of Cherry Valley started in upon their new life.

The frontier patriots of Tryon County had scrupulously observed the supremacy of the law, and the land they occupied had been fairly purchased from the Indians, who were in 1741, under the personal control of Sir William Johnson. Without treachery to the Indians, and in good faith with their neighbors in the lower valley the little settlement grew and thrived. A log church was built, from which Mr. Dunlop preached the Presbyterian faith to as devoted a band of Christian men and women

as ever crossed seas for freedom of speech. A house was built for the pastor, and from here was started the first classical school established west of Albany. Mr. Dunlop was the teacher. So urgent was the need for toil as well as study, his pupils often followed by his side making recitations as he plowed his field. Small wonder that many of these same pupils rose to rank and prominence during the Revolution.

I cannot refrain from giving a bit of the life of this teacher, in which "romance assumed the air of history." When he left Ireland he was to return in seven years. He returned the day before the seven years expired, and just as his promised wife was to marry another. But true to her first love she kept her word, and returned with him, to undergo the privations and sorrows as well as the joys of their frontier life, and alas! only to be a victim later on of the scalping-knife.

Thirty years and more passed, and in fancied security the settlement enjoyed comparative prosperity. Gradually others joined their numbers, the school and church prospered, the log church disappeared and on the site where now rest their dead was built a frame building called the "meeting house."

Indians came and went over their trail, held their councils in comparative peace, sold and bartered with the whites, meanwhile showing them many a friendly turn as their superior knowledge of woodcraft and primitive modes of travel enabled them to do. The Indian taught their white sisters new ways of living and cooking, ways that tended greatly to lessen the hardships and perils of frontier life. These same Indian women were also coming to a better understanding of the rights of their sex, and were accustomed to sign deeds in the transfer of lands.

Then the excitement of war came. The colonies had revolted and with universal accord, when an assembly was called in the meeting house, these pioneers offered a bold and patriotic resolution. It reads: "It is our fixen resolution to support and carry into execution everything recommended by the Continental Congress, and to be free or die." The open and exposed situation of the county with its great numbers of avowed enemies required unusual vigilance and authority since

the opening of the war. Suddenly like a thunderbolt came the call from General Herkimer to the Tryon militia summoning all between sixteen and sixty years of age.

Already it seemed that all the available men in both valleys. had joined the army and had fought in the battles at the north and were serving in every branch of the army which Congress controlled from Champlain and the Delaware to Charleston. But there was no longer any doubt where the blow was to fall, and the danger was imminent.

Burgoyne was moving down through the Champlain country upon Albany with nothing to stay his course, and an auxiliary force from Oswego and the water frontier was intending to sweep through the Mohawk Valley to join him. Once their forces were combined at Albany and the Hudson River, New England was cut off and the country was at the mercy of the enemy.

The answer to Herkimer's call swept the farms. By August 3, 1777, the thirty-three companies of militia were under arms, the whole force a trifle over eight hundred men. History can recall no more nondescript collection of fighters among civilized people. There were Germans of many types, there were Dutch, there were Scotch-Irish, there were stray French Huguenots, and even Englishmen, and here and there a Yankee from New England.

"With difficulty could one part understand the speech of the other, and they were arrayed in all sorts and grades of dress ranging from the blue and buff of the officers through the grey homespun and linsey woolsey of the farmer privates to the buckskin of the trappers and hunters, and there were all manner of weapons, and all styles of headgear and equipments, and all types of face." But the hearts of all were as one, and their purpose was as stern and set as death. Can a more vivid picture be shown upon canvass than that of these men facing death in the ravine at Oriskany led by brave, if mistaken Honikol Herkimer, Indian fighter, frontiersman, patriot and soldier. They fought against such foes as the English Tories, the Johnsons, Butlers and their neighbors, the German mercenaries, and great hordes of Indians

of the Six Nations, who with the promise of plunder, and the privilege of following their own mode of warfare-the reward being scalps and English money-had been gathered from the West and North.

The story needs no further telling, all know the result, A blow was struck that prevented the junction of the English forces, rendered possible the victory at Bennington, and later the decisive battle of Saratoga; and the surrender of Burgoyne. which was the turning point of the Revolutionary War.

But one incident remains to be told and that only as it relates to one of the sequels of the day, the uncalled for and unprovoked massacre of Cherry Valley. After General Herkimer had been mortally wounded, but still commanding his men at the battle of Oriskany, he saw a squad of Cherry Valley men holding a number of the Indians at bay. He perceived they were losing ground, for as they would fire from their cover, if they missed, a savage would dart forward, and before their flintlock muskets could be reloaded, a tomahawk would gleam, and the scalping-knife would claim its victim. "Put two men to each tree," shouted the General, and while one stood with loaded gun to receive the Indian, the other reloaded to await the coming of another. Well did the training of their leader serve the men, for the Indians would not fight and he met them with their own tactics, and with the loss of over one hundred of their bravest warriors they skulked and fled.

The result of that direful 6th of August, 1777, at Oriskany, was such as to cause the settlers of Cherry Valley serious and dark forebodings, for added to the Indians' loss of their warriors, means for plunder had been checked, and after General Herkimer was unable to command, and Colonel Cox had been killed, Colonel Campbell was in command and with Major Clyde (both officers from Cherry Valley) led the forces off the field.

These achievements and the general knowledge that another Cherry Valley man, John Moore, was a member of the Provincial Congress, and that other villagers belonged to the Committee of Safety, marked this settlement especially for

attention from the enemy. Tories hated this place for the patriotism of its settlers, therefore we do not wonder that apprehension and fear hovered over all, as they watched for the union of the Tories with their savage allies in their plan for revenge.

The inhabitants had, before this, besought the Provincial Congress for protection against the Indian incursions, but up to this time no fortifications had been erected. In the late summer of this same year an embankment of earth and logs was thrown up about Colonel Campbell's house and barn, and hither the inhabitants gathered for safety, but as winter came on, they withdrew to their homes again.

In the spring of 1778, while General Lafayette was in Johnstown, two residents of Cherry Valley represented to him the exposed condition of the frontier village. Military posts had been maintained along the frontier wherever it was found practicable, as it was deemed expedient to provide safety to the inhabitants at their homes. In this case General Lafayette ordered a fort to be built, which in July also received a detachment of soldiers from the Continental army under Colonel Ichabod Alden. Commanding an entire regiment of which few of the officers or soldiers were accustomed to the Indian mode of fighting, Colonel Alden took possession of the little fortress, but his suspicions were quickly lulled, and he, with several other officers, was accustomed to sleep outside the garrison. During the fall information of a positive character was received that the place was threatened with an attack from the Indians, but notwithstanding the warning this same unconcern was shown. The citizens wished to move their effects into the fort, but General Alden quieted them by saying they had good scouts out who would give timely warning.

One of these scouting parties through carelessness was captured on the night of November 10th, and the enemy learned the exact condition of affairs.

The invading force is said to have consisted of two hundred whites and about five hundred Indians, the whole under the command of Captain Walter Butler. This officer had been arrested as a spy near Fort Stanwyx, and had