New York State History

If one follows the highway across the Flats to the foot of Guinea Hill he comes to a group of buildings in which the Vandenbergs lived. The first and oldest stands several hundred feet south of the road, built in 1763 by John R., a grandson of Richard Jans Vandenberg, the ancestor of the Coxsackie tribe of that name. The original dwelling has disappeared, though its outline still shows in the nearby turf. Further south and across the creek, a branch of Coxsackie Creek, stands the house built by Hendrick Vandenberg, while directly west on the slope of Guinea Hill is that built by Richard, son of Hendrick and member of Coxsackie company in the 11th New York Regiment during the Revolution. On the north of the main road stands the last house, built by Peter, son of Richard; they are all the usual substantial stone houses of the early Dutch times.

There is some uncertainty in regard to the ancestors of the American branch of the Vandenberg family. It seems that William of Orange had a brother-in-law by name Vanderberg (the old Dutch spelling in early Coxsackie records is Vanderberk), Governor of Guelderland and Overyssel, who fled by night to avoid death at the hands of the Catholics-this was at the time of the Reformation, and some time before the discovery of America. It is not certain that Richard Janse Vandenberg descended from him, but it may have happened that way.

The Catskill Path, as the Indian footpath to Canada was called, crossed the creek here, and the road just west of the first Vandenberg house follows the exact line of the path.
The highway now winds up the slope of Guinea Hill, called so but a few years ago because of the character of the population, to the tollgate at Climax. Our turnpike left the Coxsackie Flats an eighth of a mile back and has since been clambering over the rocks.

The following chapter is furnished by Dr. Van Slyke, who is geologist as well as genealogist:-

"Three miles to the east flows the Hudson River in its rocky bed, with cliffs of Hudson River shale and other lower silurian rock standing nearly vertical. Over the flats at our feet the blue clay lies deep, put there in the glacial period. To the south may be seen what were once islands, but now wooded, rocky eminences, their north ends worn down to the old lower sandstone, their south ends still covered by Hudson River shale, which covers the several layers of rock that lie above the sandstone, just as may be seen at Prospect Grove in the Hudson River to-day, showing that the waters flowed from the north, perhaps when Lake Ontario emptied down through this valley.

"Coming up the hill the rocks stand nearly vertical, but pointing east, the lower massive sandstone, then the third layer over this covered by knobs, mud markings, but the opposite of what is produced by the tide along the Hudson River shore. To the north and south high pinnacles of limerock rise, masses of fossils. Break a piece of rotting limestone and the fine tendrils of the crinoids are perfect. In the stone walls-nothing but fossils falling apart and boulders brought by the glaciers.

"One step behind the toll-gate, to the south, brings one to a precipice, the north wall, cut back by some ancient waterfall, which once was far out to the east. In the bottom of the gorge out from under the huge rocks comes a creek, a branch of Coxsackie. Climb through the woods over the hill, nearly 2,000 feet, and one comes to a hole down in the rock where the creek falls twenty feet. It can be traversed 225 feet through several fine caves, and another falls, to forty feet down. This hole was probably at first but a leak from a lake above; it goes through solid limerock.

"This is the border of the ancient Mediterranean Sea that once extended to Ohio, in which the coral reefs and shell producing water animals formed the lime rocks through millions of years, when this was the west shore of the great continent extending through Greenland, Iceland, Norway, Europe, England. Just beyond the tollgate is a bit of gravel, and beneath fine building sand. It is a different kind of world from that just left. Trilobites and Orthocerata are here burned into lime.

"Cross a field to the north-there is the quarry whence blocks were taken more than seventy years ago to make the locks for the Erie Canal. The fossils project one-half inch from perpendicular walls facing the south, while on the surface they can be picked up, chiefly barnacles and crinoids. A hundred yards west of the gate is a large quarry-limerock, fossils-against its foot a gravel bed-an old shore. This rock contains so much phosphates that it cannot be burned into lime, due to the lingula which secreted the shells-phosphate instead of carbonate of lime. The next ledges west, younger, are excellent limestone for burning; these lime rocks are Devonian. The flint in these is black, called in geologies chert. It is said to have been produced mostly as a secretion from sponges growing in the warm sea. Across one field to the northeast is what is known as the diamond field. Crystals of quartz here abound, a pure white silex or flint. This is on the old Indian footpath."

In connection with the underground waterworks mentioned above it is interesting to note the discovery of an old-time pipe line system, concerning which no one appears to have any recollection or knowledge. Some time since, when excavations were being made a system of wooden water pipes, consisting of bored logs, was discovered leading from the above lake to the upper landing in Coxsackie. Apparently the water was drawn on the siphon principle, and apparently a break occurred which put the system out of business and it was never repaired.

There are several interesting old houses toward the south. The Leonard Bronck house, a mile and a half down the King's Road, represents several periods. The first building, erected about 1690, has an unusually sharp peak, in the upper part of which are two oval openings which are commonly spoken of as loopholes, but their position and shape suggest that they were intended as ornamental rather than useful. The next building, north of 1690, is connected with its older brother by a little brick passageway; this was erected in 1735, while an addition at the rear of 1690 bears date 1792. It is an oddly picturesque group of buildings. At the back is a small, detached building which is said to represent an unhappy period in the life of the Leonard Bronck household. The first wife died, leaving a large family, and the widower in due time married again, but very much against the wishes of his children, and matters became so strained that finally this fourth building was erected, and to this the second wife was banished-at least so the story goes.

From the Leonard Bronck place it is possible to walk east and then south about two and a half miles to the old Spoor homestead, where the railroad crosses Murderers' Creek. Erected about 1741 by Johannes Spoor, it was so long the dwelling place of generation after generation of Spoors that the locality became known as Spoorenberg. Across the stream is the old family burial ground, where lie Johannes Spoor, died February 15, 1761, and his wife Eva, died April 20, 1796. John D. Spoor died at Sackett's Harbor December 13, 1812, aged thirty-nine, while in command of a company of militia stationed there; he was a celebrated surveyor. Derrck, the son of John D., was the last of the name to own the place. When old and poor he spent what little he had to put stones to the graves that needed them and a fence around the burial ground. He died February 26, 1880.

On the swing back to the village stands a lonesome stone house with windows gone and doors creaking in the wind, a fit spot for spooks and goblins. This was built by a Hallenbeck in 1774, as the iron figures on the west wall of the house attest.

The grandfather of all American Hallenbecks was Caspar Jacobse of Beverwyck, 1654. Next was Jan Casperse, who was buried in Albany in 1730. Then Caspar Janse (se meaning son of), whose will was proved in 1756. The next generation was named Martinus, and he was born at Athens in 1715, and lived just out of Coxsackie in a stone house that has been taken down in recent years. This was the rich member of the family whose daughters sent to England for their gowns, and it was he who built the 1774 house, which is here illustrated, for his son Caspar, who was born January 16, 1745. At the conclusion of the Revolutionary War Caspar went to Canada, leaving his family in this house. On the death of his wife he married in Canada, and was the progenitor of the Canadian Hallenbecks. Martin, son of Caspar, lived in the family home; then came in succeeding generations Francis, Isaac and Frederick, the ninth in the line, and about twenty years ago the property passed into other hands. (The Hallenbeck facts come from Mr. E. C. Hallenbeck of Coxsackie, through Dr. Van Slyke.)

By climbing the fence and the little hill back of the Hallenbeck house the traveller comes suddenly on another old relic of the days when Tories and Indians were a live issue.
The Van Schaack place, an unpretentious frame house that one could easily pass by with a glance. The Van Schaacks were true patriots, and hence a mark for the enemy, and in due
course the Indians came and the Tories descended, and fell upon that house, but being founded on eighteen-inch square yellow pine beams it withstood the shock, though the place was badly wrecked, and an attempt was made to fire it. The old Van Schaack homestead is several miles over toward the west, but this place has been occupied by the family for many generations.

Now by various turnings and twistings we get back once more to Coxsackie on the river, and take up the trail toward Athens.

At a very early date the Indians would occasionally bring in lead to barter for beads and the bright colored cloths which the Dutch had to dispose of. They claimed that the lead was found back in the Katzbergs, but persistently refused to disclose where, and no amount of search on the part of the white men availed to locate the mine. There is a tradition that a certain avaricious old chief offered to trade the secret for some much-coveted articles in the possession of Matthias Hough-taling, the patentee, and upon the refusal of the latter to meet the Indian's demands the redskin became angry, and denouncing Houghtaling declared that the location of the mine should remain a secret so long as any one of the name continued in possession of the land. This prophecy possibly accounts for the failure of all efforts to find this hidden source of wealth, even those who summon spirits to their aid have in vain called on the shades of departed braves for the information.

Once out of Coxsackie one gets the first good view of the Catskills, provided the weather does not interfere. The road climbs up from the village to the top of the first terrace bordering the river, and an extended view over the flats toward the west is to be had-beautiful farming country, punctuated here and there with great barns and lesser dwellings, leads the eye up to the mountains.

As we proceed the road gradually mounts the slope of Klinkenberg, or Echo Hill, on whose summit stands the frame house of old Ben Tryon, who lived during the period of the Civil War. The countryside was much worked up over the question of Tryon's loyalty, he being openly accused of copperhead tendencies, and when a story got about that he was flying the Rebel flag there were many ready to believe it, and a company of some twenty-five lusty young fellows was organized in Coxsackie to investigate. They had a few old guns among them which were more ornamental than useful, but must have made a brave show as they marched down behind the village drum. When they arrived old Ben was in bed, but it did not take him long to arise, and he was soon busy explaining that the flag in question was a very much faded Union emblem. The boys, however, went on the principle that seeing was believing, and the suspect was finally obliged to get the flag down for inspection, that his neighbors might be convinced with their own "convincion", whereupon the young patriots, having marched up the hill, marched down again, but even to the present day there are those who only remember that it was a Rebel flag that was hoisted, so kindly does the world take to its neighbor's black eye.

Down on the river is Four Mile Point, with its lighthouse and little settlement all spread out to view. Here lived Jacob Hallenbeck, and here still stands his dwelling. Jacob was a Tory a hundred and thirty years ago, and his house became a noted resort for other black sheep of the same way of thinking. One of the early owners of Four Mile Point was Capt. William Beck, who appears to have been of a piratical turn of mind, and to have had many of the high attributes of the better known Captain Kidd. There are tales in plenty of dark and stormy nights wherein treasure was buried, and the place is still attractive to those honest citizens who would rather dig for gold than potatoes.

In the northern edge of Athens there is a break in the hill which enables Murderers' Creek to escape to the Hudson. The farm which, in the old days, extended north along the river from the mouth of the creek was known as Korst-Veloren, meaning "lost crust". What little romance or tragedy is commemorated in the name is now unknown, lost in the mists of antiquity. Just how the creek came by its name is a question, but it is probably a corruption of another word, for in early deeds the stream is mentioned at Mudenaer and as Mudder Creek, presumably named after some Dutchman that lived along its banks.

The upper or northern part of Athens shows many evidences of the day when it was a boom town, then known as Esperanza (Hope). The remarkable success of the New England Quakers in building up Hudson, just across the river, gave the cue to certain enterprising gentlemen, who purchased this tract and cut it up into lots. There were five men in the enterprise, three of whom were Livingstons. The names of the promoters were to be perpetuated in the avenues, while the cross streets received such original appellations as Bread, Wheat, Rye, Barley, Cider, Beer, Rice, Meal, etc.

Present-day speculators might get points from the prospectus of the wonderful city of Esperanza. It was to be the eastern end of the canal, which was already in the minds of men; as the town grew and flourished it would wrest from Albany the honor of being the capital of the state, and would be the gate to the "western country". For a time things flourished, many lots were unloaded and much gold changed hands. Handsome brick houses were built and a fine church, but when the lots were sold there was no one to push, the bubble burst, and to-day there are but few citizens who ever heard of that dream town of Hope.

Right in the midst of Esperanza, on Washington Street, opposite Wheat, stands almost the only remaining relic of old Loonenberg, the house built in 1724 by Albertus Van Loon, son of Jan the first. The place has witnessed at least one tragedy, when Anthony R. Livingston, one of the executors of the Van Loon estate, stabbed James Byrnes during a contest over the will. Livingston was indicted, but never brought to trial, and in due time moved to Tarrytown, where the nightly goings on of ghostly Hessians and Cowboys must have greatly disturbed the repose of his soul.

One of the noted river catastrophies, and one which led to the passing of some much-needed laws for the protection of those who travel by water in this state, occurred opposite Athens on April 7, 1845, when a rock known as Dooper Island combined with a dark night and a snow squall to the undoing of the steamer Swallow. The boat started from New York with two others close behind, each bent on reaching Albany first. The poor Swallow skimmed too close to the rocks, and as her bow ran high out of the water the hull broke in two and twenty-five of those on board were drowned.

Of buildings one hundred years old, but without any other interest, there are a number in the town. Timothy Bunker, Quaker, who ran the ferry to Hudson, built a dwelling in 1800 at the corner of Warren and Market Streets. If Timothy's ghost could come back and see the ease with which the present ferryboat is propelled he would no doubt marvel greatly at the advancement of science since the days of the "gunwaled scow" that the early settlers thought a grand ferryboat.