It Takes a Village Part 1 – Community or Family?

In our previous post, #5, the Drums finally arrived in the Drums Valley, probably sometime during the 1790’s. The earliest date of their presence in the valley that has so far been documented is May 8, 1804.  However, the family most likely arrived in the valley between 1792 and 1797. We will return to this discussion in a later post to investigate this more.

Homes in Drums, PA. Just as pretty as a picture.

The little group of settlers, mostly German, that gathered in the beautiful valley through the 1780’s and 1790’s, worked hard to make themselves into a community. 

The traffic lights at the intersection of
Hunter Highway and West Butler Road.
There are more at the intersection of  Hunter Highway
and St. Johns Road a bit further north and again at the
entrance to the Can-Do Corporate Center just south of I80. 

To look at the community today with electricity, energy-efficient houses, cell towers, interstates, and even not one, but THREE, sets of traffic lights along Route 309/Hunter Highway, it is hard to believe the first structure built in the valley consisted of poles leaning against a tree and covered with brush and leaves; built in 1784 by John Balliet^[1].

It is a most beautiful valley. From the overlook at Penn State University’s Hazleton Campus, on the crest of Butler Mountain^[2] just east of the Conyngham Gap, a visitor can view the valley below. From this vantage point, Sugarloaf Mountain can be easily seen standing guard over the valley of fields and woodlots, rivers and streams, all spread out across the valley floor like a great quilt on a feather bed; separated by a few roads that connect comfortable-looking homes, churches, and businesses with each other. Your eye wanders across the peaceful and picturesque scene until it reaches the Nescopeck Mountain, the edge that forms the northern horizon. It is a most impressive site. 

The view from the Penn State Hazleton Campus overlook. Sugarloaf Mountain is on the left and Drumyngham is somewhere behind those trees on the right.

But don’t take my word for it, here is how Rev. Harry F. J. Uberroth, pastor of the St. John’s German Reformed Church, 1922-1935, described the valley in 1924^[3] (the year Harry Drum^{(Elmer ,Nathan A., John, Philip, George, Jacob, Philip)}  celebrated his first birthday anniversary).

In traveling north from the city of Hazleton, Pennsylvania, a few miles, one comes to the summit of Buck Mountain, 1,802 feet above the ocean, the grandeur and sublimity of the far famed (sic) Butler Valley being at your feet. You stand in mute silence before the awe-inspiring scene. Here, indeed, is a grand temple not reared with hands, too sacred a place to be profaned by the course and vulgar…. To the north of the crest, Nescopeck Mountain can be seen for a distance of thirty miles; to the west rises majestically the cone shaped Sugarloaf, like a “grim sentinel keeping watch o’er the valley.” Through the valley, the Big and Little Nescopeck streams meander peacefully from the east to the west. Here, truly, the powers of God expended themselves in a diversified and picturesque scenery; in dazzling scintillations of color, in the fresco of the sky, in the golden fruitage of vineyards, orchards and rolling fields, and sometimes in the full orchestra of the tempest in which branches flutter, winds trumpet, thunders drum and all the historic splendors of earth and sky clash their cymbals.^[4]

The valley as seen from Conyngham Gap looking Northeasterly. The two green lines mark where I-81 can be seen and the red arrow points to the approximate location of Drumyngham.  Sugarloaf Mountain is off the picture to the left. Pulpit Rock (see below) is off the picture to the right. This photo was taken around noon on July 4, 2018.

This is a postcard from the 1970's that shows the valley as seen from Pulpit Rock on the Eastern end of the valley. I've labeled points of interest. At least I think I have these points marked correctly. 

Beginning perhaps 1784 and continuing through 1787, researchers tell us that Balliet was joined in the valley by six other families and a little community began: Brenner, Shober, Dolph, Hill, Bachelor, and Spaid.^{[5], [6], [7]} An interesting side note here is that none of these names are included in the 1790 census list for Luzerne County. Some may be on the list under a different spelling. Name spellings were not consistent, even within families. Sometimes the same person spelled the name differently in different situations, sometimes even within the same document! My collection includes a deed that was written by Justice of the Peace George Drum in 1811 in which his name is spelled “Drumm” at the top of the page but “Drum” at the bottom. Even if the document was written by a clerk or assistant, it would seem George would have had the errant spelling corrected, if he cared. The 1790 census does list a Bennet (13 of them, in fact), Bechell, Shover, and Space. These are possible variant spellings for some of the above names.

Again, according to various researchers, these six families were shortly followed by Philip Woodring, Henry Davis, Andrew Mowery, and George Drum. ^[8],[9] Another check of the 1790 census shows that of these four, only Henry Davis and Andrew Mowre (note spelling) are listed. In addition to the above, other reported early settlers included Benner, Beisel, Hunt, and Raup. ^[10] Of these only Henry Hunt is listed in the 1790 census although two Reip’s (Jacob and Leonard) do appear.

Even John Balliet is missing in the 1790 census, yet it is almost certain he was in the valley since 1784. Three names that are familiar names in the valley that do appear in the 1790 census but are not noted by these sources are John Shafer (another name that often gets tortured by spelling variations/inaccuracies/inconsistences), Valentine Santee (an ancestor of Elmer’s wife Ella), and Bastian Sybert (possibly a member of the family for which the Sugarloaf Township village of Sybertsville was named), although this is not a conformation that these individuals were living in the valley at the time of the census since the list covers all of Luzerne County.

As each year passed more and more families arrived, some locating in areas that came to be known as Conyngham, Sybertsville, and Rock Glen while others cut their farms out of the parts of the valley later to be called Fritzingertown, St. Johns, Honey Hole, Kis-Lyn and Drums.  They lived off the land, traded and shared with each other, and bartered with the Indians.

John Balliet’s son, Stephen, remembered that, as a boy of 10, they would travel many miles to take their corn to the mill - Sultz’s Mill on Lizard Creek. Lizard Creek is approximately a mile southwest of present-day Lehighton, approximately 30-40 miles southeast of Drums.

By Ox Cart, it would take at least ten hours going one-way. The farmers would go down one day, have the corn milled overnight, and then head back home the following day! A story often told by the Valley settlers, probably with a wink, had it that the trip was so long, and then the wait at the mill being long as well, and stomachs being what they are, most of the corn was eaten before it ever got to be milled forcing the farmer to return home for another load!^[11]

Balliet quickly replaced his lean-to with a log cabin – required to make it through the winter! His first cabin was probably a “Round-Log” or “Pole” cabin covered with bark. If so, it had a door but no windows, a stick and mud chimney set on a bare, earthen floor, perhaps with a dried animal skin laid down here and there to cover the ground. Furniture, beds and tables, was built right into the walls. A bed was made by driving a leg into the earthen floor. A hole drilled into the wall received a pole that was attached to this leg. Another pole was set into another hole in the second wall and was also attached to the leg. This formed a rectangle through which raw-hind straps were stretched from the poles to the walls. Bedding was then laid on these straps, probably consisting of animal skins as well.^[12]

In 1786, Balliet’s cabin and all its contents was lost to a fire. John rebuilt, of course. Whether it was this building or the next, Balliet is credited with building the first frame house in the valley.^[13] As the 1780’s moved into the 1790’s, necessities began to be put in place. One account says Samuel Woodring built a primitive saw and grist mill on the Little Nescopeck Creek in 1788. It was described as being very small and had “home-made” mill stones. Evan Owens built the “Owens Road” (closely followed present day Route 93) from Berwick to Mauch Chunk, known today as Jim Thorpe, in 1786. ^[14]

In 1792, some of the German settlers organized the German Reformed congregation and in 1799, the day after Christmas, their fellow settlers organized the Lutheran congregation. Eventually these two congregations would each establish their own churches, today’s St. John’s United Church of Christ and St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church respectively.^[15] 

What is so clear to us now was even MORE clear, all TOO clear, to the families of the valley right from the start. They needed each other to survive. In today’s world, we can live across the street from someone and never know their name! We may even only notice them when they come or go; and they us. We can even live in the same APARTMENT BUILDING and not know the person’s name living in the apartment above us or right next door! However, for the people of the Drums Valley, in the days before Cell Phones, 911, and Emergency Rooms; the Emergency Room was someone’s parlor, a shout was the Cell Phone, and 911 was a bell or just a plume of smoke or an orange glow on the horizon!

When injuries occurred, or illness struck, one counted on the neighbors to help get them through, care for the children, feed and water the stock. That orange glow in the sky at night caused all who could see it to rush toward it, knowing it was a house or a barn on fire. Someone needed help.

And when the fire was out, everyone helped everyone rebuild. When a couple got married, everyone helped everyone celebrate. When a loved-one died, everyone helped everyone mourn. Everyone helped everyone because everyone knew everyone! Instead of a community, it was more like an extended family. That sense of “family” built trust and that notion of trust created fellowship; strongly felt and continuing long after the original settlers had passed away. It continued throughout most of the Valley’s history with a few of the longer-time residents feeling it yet today.

An example of this emerged during a situation that arose in 2000 between members of my family and our neighbors, Clyde and Jo Ann Young. A question of property boundaries came up and the conventional wisdom at the time was that a written agreement was required to settle the matter. Somehow, I was designated as the one to present the question to Clyde.

Ransom Young, Sr.

Clyde Young’s family had arrived in the valley during the 1830’s. Ransom Young, Sr., Clyde’s Great-Grandfather, was born in the Great Lakes region of New York in 1810. In 1830 he traveled to the valley with his father and shortly thereafter decided he would return to the valley and make his home there. He married Rachel Shelhamer and they had eight children together, six boys and two girls.^[16] His youngest son, Edward, acquired land adjacent to the property and home I now call “Drumyngham” and there he built his house and barn and began farming the land. Ed Young’s initials can still be seen in the barn he built. This farm, passed from father to son, was owned by Clyde in 2000 and is now owned by his son, Ransom. 

Ransom, Sr., or as he liked to be called, “Grandfather Young”, celebrated his 100^th birthday anniversary on November 8, 1910. As a way of saying thank you “to all my friends who have so kindly remembered me…with their presence, a nice gift, or a card…” he dictated a letter of thanks that appeared in the November 17^th edition of the valley’s newspaper of the time, the Valley Vigilant.

This masthead is actually from the May 23, 1913 edition.

I have received postcards from almost two hundred people, from the big and the little, and want them to take this personal thanks from Grandfather Young, especially the little children, of which I have a special love for and wish I could take every one by the hand and tell them so… I also wish to thank Rev. Brunstetter^[17] for his good talk and being thoughtful enough to put me in a place so I was able to hear him, for I do so love the Gospel. I used to go to church regularly at Drums, in fact I helped build it and hauled lumber with my yoke of oxen.^[18]

So, a date was set for my meeting with Clyde and Jo Ann and, at the appointed hour, my wife, along for moral support, and I arrived at the Young’s home. Jo Ann opened the door and there on the coach sat one of the pillars of Drums, larger than life. Although close to ninety, there was nothing wrong with Clyde’s active mind. I explained the issues and concerns. Then I explained the conventional wisdom and offered over a written agreement for signature.

Clyde never touched it.

He folded his arms over his chest. His eyes narrowed. His jaw set. After a huge, long sigh, Clyde said, “How I wish your father was still alive,” to which Jo Ann interjected, “Oh, Father, I’m sure he does too!”

“I do, Sir, so do I,” I managed to get out.

“Your father and I had been neighbors since 1953,” Clyde continued. “We never needed any written agreements. If I had a question, your father and I discussed it. If he had a question, your father and I discussed it. When we understood each other, you know how we signed “the agreement”? We shook hands. He’d shake my hand. I’d shake his hand.” Then he grew silent and stayed that way for a very long time.

No one said a word.

Finally, he broke the silence by saying, “A hand shake was good enough for your father, it should be good enough for you.”

It was the perfect summary of how the Valley, the Community called “Drums” worked, probably from the start. Being a citizen of Drums meant you were a member of the family. One doesn’t make written agreements with family. One discusses the matter and comes to an understanding. One trusts family.

I left with my tail between my legs. The man was right. In a follow-up letter, I said that I felt and understood Clyde’s pain that I’d caused; the insult that I’d given. Counter to the evening’s discussion, I said, I had “great faith” in what Clyde had to say and “always believed him to be an honest man.” A few days later I received a letter from them. He had signed the agreement but by then, it sure wasn’t necessary or needed any longer! We had, after all, shaken hands!

In 2015, I found myself living in Maine. Worried about Drumyngham, I asked Ransom if he could check up on it upon occasion. I even offered to pay for the service. It was then that I suddenly felt like I was right back in that living room talking with Clyde! Ransom exclaimed, “No need for THAT! This is what neighbors are for! This is what neighbors DO! They look out for each other!”  I began to wonder how often I’d have to learn the same lesson.

And BTW, the extended family still continues to this day. On February 7, 2018, it snowed a lot. So out I went to shovel out my 120-foot driveway. As I came within about 15 feet of the road, I heard the distinct sound of a large machine approaching. Looking up, who was smiling back at me but Ransom Young in his front loader, coming to plow out my driveway! If I’d only known...

Return to the Drums of Drums, PA on September 10, 2018 for the 7th post, Village Remedies.

---

[1] Bradsby, H.C., ed, History of Luzerne County, Pennsylvania (Chicago: S.B. Nelson & Co., 1893). Chapter XXI (continued): Butler Township. http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/luzerne/1893hist/ accessed 6/7/2016

[2] Butler Mountain is also known as Buck Mountain. I think it should be called Drums Mountain, but I am prejudiced.

[3] Actually, Uberroth probably, unless he wrote it for Rev. Stoyer, plagiarized this passage from a document written by his predecessor, Rev. William D. Stoyer, the church’s pastor from 1911-1921. The passage is almost word for word the same as one that appears in Historical Souvenir of St. John’s Reformed Church, St. Johns Pa. 1917 written by W.D. Stoyer and published by the church in 1917.

[4] Uberroth, Rev. Harry F. J., “Saint John’s Church, Saint Johns, Penna.” Reformed Church History of Hazleton and Vicinity (Hazleton, PA: Reformed Pastoral Association; July, 1924) p. 7.

[5] The Lions Club lists the names each with an “s” (Benners, Shobers, etc) probably referring to the families and not part of the sir name, itself

[6] Two Hundred Years of Progress: Butler Township, 1784-1984 (Drums, PA: The Drums Lions Club, May 1984) p 6

[7] Bradsby, Chapter XXI (continued): Butler Township

[8] Two Hundred Years of Progress

[9] Bradsby, Chapter XXI (continued): Butler Township

[10] Drum, Nora, Miss; Mrs. R. S. Small, and Mrs. Millard Shelhamer, Drums Methodist Church and Valley Notes (Drums, PA: St. Paul’s Methodist Church, 1953)

[11] Bradsby, Chapter XXI (continued): Butler Township

[12] Bradsby, Chapter III: Habits and Customs

[13] Bradsby, Chapter XXI (continued): Butler Township

[14] Bradsby, Chapter XXI (continued): Butler Township

[15] 200^th Anniversary: 1792-1992 (St. Johns, PA: St. Johns United Church of Christ, 1992)

[16] Drum, Nora

[17] According to the booklet Drums Methodist Church and Valley Notes, Rev. F. H. Brunstetter was the pastor of St. Paul’s Methodist Church in Drums from 1904-1911.

[18] “Ransom Young’s Letter: Centenarian of Butler Township Dictates Letter of Thanks”, Valley Vigilant, November 17, 1910

Finding History in a Beautiful Morning

Contemporary 1 - A beautiful Morning

History.

I looked it up in Merriam-Webster. Good old Merriam gave me words like “Tale” and “Story”. It said that history is a chronological record of significant events. It didn’t say, however, who would judge which events were significant nor how they would so be judged. It did suggest that often an explanation of the significant events’ causes would be included. As I read further Merriam clarified that “history” is simply the events of the past.

hmmm, Past. So, what exactly is “past”? Back I went to Merriam. “Just gone or elapsed. A period before the present.”  Well, that made sense, I guess. Still one more question. “Present.”

“Now existing or in progress.” Good old Merriam-Webster. Has a definition for everything, which, by the way, according to Merriam, is “a: all that exists b: all that relates to the subject.”

Based on this information so far, there are any number of philosophical paths I could shoot off on but I began with “History”, so I guess I should stick to history. Based on what I’ve seen so far, then, I’m thinking a case could easily be made that all of what I’ve written in this post so far, is “History”, in more ways than one. I wrote it and that’s an event. It is past, not present meaning it is not “now” so it must be “before”, so it is history.

Now, if something so recent can be called “History”, certainly what happened yesterday can be called History, or last week, or last year. We often think of History as the things that transpired in 1957 or 1870 or 1738 or 1600 or 1492. But here we are saying that what happened just yesterday is history! If what happened yesterday is history than stories of the Drums of Drums from yesterday, or even this morning, seem relevant to this blog.

That was a way-too-long-way of saying that as occurrences from the present take place that may have relevance to the Drums of Drums story, I’ll write them up and post them here, sort of “in-between” the stuff about the more distant past. I have a friend who refers to stuff like this as “Contemporary History.” I suggest that “Contemporary History” may be even more important than plain old “History History” because, as the occurrences of the moment become the actions of the far distant past, the reports chronicling the events of the present will become invaluable to those of the future seeking to understand what happened in the past.

So, we begin with this morning, August 15, 2018. It was a beautiful morning.

The sun had not been up for very long when I decided it was the perfect morning to take a walk. Lately it has been raining. It has been raining since, well, it feels like forever. Today dawned bright and clear and, most importantly, dry. At least the sky and the air were “dry”. The ground and the grass and the trees and the roofs were all covered in a thin layer of water as if all that moisture that had been making it rain these past few days just decided to lay down and rest for a while.

So, I headed out across the Drumyngham property. I’ve allowed what once was an orchard, to grow wild, to fill itself with Raspberry bushes, Goldenrod, Queen Anne’s Lace, and, unfortunately, a bit of Poison Ivy. As the ground turned from the browns and whites of winter into the greens and pastels of spring, I cut a path through this orchard so I could wander past the old apple trees, some now overgrown with grape vines and Virginia Creeper, past the Dogwood and the Blue Spruce, and through the stands of Goldenrod that I knew by fall would be as tall as me, or taller. It was down this path that I walked today.

The layer of water that had taken its rest on the grass and leaves around me began to grow restless, so formed into droplets, and began jumping down to the ground below, or, as was often the case, onto my head, cheeks, or nose. As the sun made its way higher into the sky, these droplets caught some of the sun’s rays and broke them into hundreds of thousands of tiny rainbows causing the scene in front of me to dance in flecks of colors almost too tiny to see. It was beautiful. What a pleasure.

The growing warmth of the sun gave many of the orchard’s insects the courage to “come to life” and take flight, some sending tiny splashes of the morning dew up into the air about them as they leapt from their leaf or stem. Small Flower Flies, always so brave and curious, looking like tiny bees in their yellow and black striped outfits, began to make me the center of their curiosity as they circled around my head, landing on my hands and arms, tasting to see if I had brought them something delicious to breakfast upon.

The Katy-dids had all by now stopped their raspy overnight scratchings of their namesake leaving just the night crickets to call for their mates. Their constant soft whir was beginning to give way to that of the day grasshoppers whose calls can raise a sound that at times can be deafening. I know that later in the day they will be joined by the harsh buzzing calls of the Cicadas and the orchestra will then be in full voice. But not yet, it is still early, the songs still soft, like the dew.

As I made my way along my path, harsh caw-caws of some crows could be heard coming from the field down below. Suddenly the scolding cries of a much closer Robin replaced the caws in my ears as mother Robin warned me to stay away. Her nest is near, and she means business, so stay away, she warns. A Mourning Dove sitting high in one of the spruces beside me coos her soft, sad call, as if trying to sooth mother Robin and let her know this visitor means her no harm.

By now my pant legs had become quite soaked and, as I was reaching the end of my path, I turned to head back in, back into the house where I grew up, where so many of my memories reside, as do I. As I stepped from the bright sun into the cool darkness of the basement, I thought of how often I’d done this same thing in the past, following my dad, hearing my mom call me from the kitchen above. Both are long gone now but it seemed I could still hear Mom saying, “Get out of those wet things! You are dripping all over everything and you’ll catch your death of cold!” and my dad chuckling, as he always did when she made such a command.

I almost hated to do it, but I did as she asked and pulled off my wet things. I hung them on the clothes lines still stretched around the basement where she, herself, had tied them. I hated to do it because it meant my morning was ending and the day now needed to get started.

So now this morning, too, has taken its place among the many memories I have of life at Drumyngham.

What relevance this will have for some future historian researching the past I’m sure I don’t know, but it sure was a beautiful morning.

The Drums of Drums Arrive in Drums

In our previous post we learned of Jacob’s and Catherine’s fate at the hands of Native Americans, possibly working with British officers. Jacob was killed and we looked at what possibly is his final resting place. His wife was taken prisoner and, to our knowledge, never heard from again. Their son, George, escaped and, had he not escaped, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be here to write this post now! Heck! There wouldn’t even be a Drums, PA to write about!

Now remember, the goal of such coordinated British and Indian attacks on the frontier was to force Colonial soldiers to protect the frontier thus weakening the force available to fight the British. What they achieved, however, was to drive the revolution-resistant Germans into the Revolutionary camp. Such is not an easy thing to do given the oaths the Germans each swore upon arrival. The oath was a promise and with these people a promise is a promise! However, when those to whom you’ve sworn allegiance break their promise and turn on you, it is time to change allegiances.

But what of George, the 12-year-old boy who escaped with his life by hiding in a chimney? What must he have been experiencing? How did he internalize the trauma he’d just experienced? What became of George?

One longs for a letter or a diary, perhaps just a newspaper article, that would give us a hint. None has yet been found. We can only apply what we know others have experienced under similar circumstances. In 1884, Herbert Hoover, who later became the 31^st President of the United States, along with his younger sister and his older brother, watched as their mother died of Typhoid Fever and Pneumonia; this being just a few years after their father died. Later Herbert’s brother Theodore recalled how he felt saying, “A lad of that age (12) feels…a helplessness and despair and a sort of dumb animal terror. What will become of him…, adrift on the wreck of (his) little world.”[1]

Orphaned at the age of 12, adrift on the wreck of his little world, what did become of George? He reemerges in the record in 1782 when, according to Helman, at the age of 20 he enlists as a Continental Soldier, Private Fourth Class, in Captain Peter Hay’s Company under Philip Boehm, of Williams Township, Northampton County, Fourth Battalion.[2] However, where was he between 1774 and 1782?

Where does an orphaned pre-teen go under such circumstances?  One logical answer is, if his Grandfather Philip and/or Philip’s wife, were still alive, he possibly could have been taken in by them! He may, as well, have been taken in by his maternal grandparents. There is a Strauss family counted by the 1790 census living in Moore; head of household was Henry Strauss.

An interesting point to note is how George named his children. It was almost as if he was sending a message to the future! His first child, born February 15, 1787, was a boy they named Philip. Both George’s grandfather and father-in-law were named Philip. George and Anna Margret[3] Woodring Drum’s next child, another boy, was born February 6, 1791 and they named this child Jacob, probably after George’s father. Jacob was followed by another boy on October 16, 1792 and George and Anna Margret named this baby George. Was this order-of-naming George’s way of showing his respect and gratitude to his grandfather for taking him in and raising him through his teenage years?

In 1779, the continued unrest on the frontier of Pennsylvania and southwestern New York reached a breaking point. George Washington had finally had enough. He ordered General John Sullivan into the Susquehanna Valley of Pennsylvania. His mission was to break the power of the pro-British Indians. In June of 1779, Gen. Sullivan, at the head of 2,500 Continental Soldiers, began his march. Sullivan’s campaign greatly weakened the eastern tribes, so much so that they never were a serious threat to the Pennsylvania frontier again.[4] 

Location of the massacre with the 1933 memorial.

As part of this campaign, a force was gathering to make an attack on an encampment of Indians and Tories (American colonists who still considered themselves British) near the village of Catawissa along the Susquehanna River in 1780. Catawissa is approximately 20 miles west of Conyngham. One of the companies heading that way was a group of 41 men under the command of Captain Daniel Klader. On September 10, the company reached a point near present day Conyngham, close to the Little Nescopeck Creek and, along a small feeder stream. They stopped there to rest. Shortly after noon when the company least expected it, a contingent of Indians attacked them! Some accounts suggested the Indians numbered as many as 300 while others claimed less than 30! [5] Rogan H. Moore in his 2000 book The Bloodstained Field put the actual number of attackers at 30.[6] Because at least one was noted to have had red hair, it was surmised that the attackers included British soldiers as well. That the Indians at least had British support seems evident. An account given by Lt. Col. Stephen Balliett who commanded one of the details sent to bury the dead, reported that found among the dead men were “a new fuse and several gun barrels, etc., bent and broken in pieces with a British stamp thereon.”[7] In further support of this theory George W. Drum ^{(George, George, Jacob, Philip)} produced a lock and rusted barrel of a gun of apparent English make that he said had been plowed up “in long after years” from the “slaughter grounds.”[8]  

Or so the story has been told across the years. Recent research has cast doubt on certain specifics of the traditional story including who was in charge. Specific to the company’s leadership, according to an article that appeared in the Hazleton Standard-Speaker in 2005[9], a researcher named Thomas Verenna of Easton, PA was unable to find evidence Daniel Klader existed. Verenna asserted that all the histories of the event, including Moore’s recent book The Bloodstained Field, were based on an erroneous story first published in the Hazleton Sentinel in 1860 and reprinted in 1880 and again in 1888. If he is correct, then Milo Daniel Clader, reputed to have been the Captain’s Great³ Grand-nephew, was mis-informed when he gave remarks on behalf of the K/Clader Family during the dedication ceremony of the Sugarloaf Massacre Memorial on September 9, 1933; remarks that were included in the Annals of the Sugarloaf Historical Association in 1934.[10] In his remarks Clader said Danial Klader was one of nine children, 3 boys and six girls, of Valentine and Catherine Klader. He said the boys were named Daniel, Abraham, and Jacob. Clader asserted that all three served in the military; Daniel and Abraham both dying in the massacre.

This image is called "An American Forest". It appears on
page 9 of a small book entitled Who were the First Builders?
It was published in 1874 in London by T. Nelson and Sons.
The volume I own does not give the author's name. My
volume is heavily damaged. It was recovered from books
that were being discarded after being damaged in the
Wilkes-Barre flood of 1972. A handwritten inscription
written in impeccable penmanship says,
"Reward of Excellence presented to Marien W. Morris
by her attached teacher M. A. Longstreth 12 mo. 1874. 

However, that the event occurred, and that men died, is certain; fifteen men, to be exact.[11] Fifteen men who would need to be buried. Two details ended up being sent to do this duty. Upon their return to the fort, they told of a wonderful valley, populated by neither whites nor Indians, with rich, fertile soil, and two clear rivers as a source of water and transportation.  

One man, John Balliet, paid particular attention to these stories. He had originally been chosen to be a member of one of the burial details but due to sickness in his family, was unable to go. However, when he heard the stories of this wonderful valley, he determined that he would take his family there and homestead. In 1784 he did just that making him the first settler to homestead in the Drums Valley.

Of course, when it comes to history, what is true is only what is written down. Oral history passed down through the years says a man named G. H. Raup (there are various spellings of this name; Reip, Reab[12]) was the first settler arriving in the valley in 1782. A small booklet entitled Drums Methodist Church and Valley Notes [13]written in 1953 by Miss Nora Drum ^{(Nathan S., Philip, George, Jacob, Philip)}, Mrs. R. S. Small, and Mrs. Millard Shelhamer, three members of the St. Paul’s Methodist Church, a.k.a. Drums Methodist Church, says Raup’s farm was located on land owned in 1953 by Mitchel Arnold in “East Butler”. However, as documentation of this fact appears to be lacking, John Balliet was given the honor of being the “First Settler of Drums”. 

Balliet Park at Beisel's Corner

Balliet located his farm near a point that became known as “Beisels Corner”, so named due to the number of Beisel Family members who eventually located at this crossroad, approximately a mile west of Drums Corner, so called for the same reason, which became the center of the village of Drums. On May 27, 1984, the Drums Lions Club placed a monument near Beisels Corner, the 200^th anniversary of Balliet’s arrival in the valley, to commemorate the occasion. 

That George Drum was among the early settlers of the Valley is certain. What is not certain is the year that he actually arrived. Helman tells us he was born in 1762[14] but leaves us with the question of where, specifically, George was born. It seems fairly clear he was born within the 30 miles radius that encompasses Allentown, Whitehall Township, Cherryville, Moore Township, Bethlehem, Easton, and Williams Township.

The military company George joined in 1782 at age 20 was from Williams Township. There is a record of a George Drum paying his “freeman” tax there in 1785, he was counted by the Pennsylvania Septennial Census as a Williams resident in 1786 and when he paid his Freeman Tax, again in Williams, in 1789, he had to pay for four cattle. His occupation was noted as “weaver.” George was probably in Williams, PA when not on military duty, through the 1780’s.  

Searches of the 1790 and 1800 censuses do not show a “George Drum” in the valley. Unfortunately, it is difficult to find him in other places as well! There are two candidates in the 1790 census: one in Allen, PA and one in Albany, PA. “George Drum” in Allen, Northampton County, includes one too many male children. “Geo Drum” in Albany, Berks County, matches the expected family statistics but is in an unexpected county. Two George Drum’s appear in Albany in 1800 but neither come close to “our” statistics. The 1790 Allen, PA George is not listed in the 1800 census in Allen.

 A “George Drumm” and a “Phillip Drumm” do appear in the 1810 census for Sugarloaf, Luzerne County. 

Note the spelling of "Sugarloaf".

George listed as a farmer and Philip as a carpenter; but, although confidence is high these are the correct Drums, George appears to be in the wrong column (WFM [White Free Males ] 26-44 is marked but George was 48 in 1810) and there is an extra son indicated between the ages of 10 and 15. The list records “2” for this category, but of George’s children, only Abraham fits this category being 13 at the time. Isaac would have been 11 but he died in 1804. The rest of the statistics match perfectly and all family members are accounted for. It should be again noted, however, that “households” often included members from more than one family/generation including employees such as farm hands or live-in maids would be counted with-in the household. Perhaps that is the case here. 

Given the George Drum included in the 1790 census living in Allen, PA, it is possible “our” George had moved there in 1790 prior to the month the census was taken. However, no record has yet been found that confirms, or even hints at, this family’s location between 1790 and 1804 when Isaac is laid to rest in the St. Johns cemetery.

We next find George in 1808 when he is listed as a member of the German Reformed consistory at the time the first church building was built in St. Johns.[15] The day before Christmas that same year, Philip purchased two acres and 100 perches of land in Conyngham for $40.00[16], Lot #7, from Dr. Benjamin Rush[17] of Philadelphia. George is included on a list of nineteen parishioners who, in 1809, signed Rev. Frederick W. Van de Sloat’s Church constitution which he wrote at their request,[18] and George is included on a list of road workers, which he also audited, in 1810.[19] Philip builds a wool-processing mill near Fritzingertown on the Little Nescopeck Creek in 1810,[20] George is appointed Justice of the Peace in 1811[21], and George buys land in 1813[22]. So where were they between 1790 and 1804?

One likely answer is that they were in Allen/Moore for the early 1790’s but already in the valley when the 1800 census was taken, perhaps living with his father-in-law, Philip Woodring! As noted above, the early censuses did not list family member names, just the name of the head of the household followed by a series of statistics for who was living in that household. For example, statistics such as the number of household members who were free, white males less than age 10; number of free, white females ages 26 - 44; slaves; etc. were collected.

Philip Woodring does not appear in the 1790 U.S. Census for Nescopeck, as the Lower Luzerne County area was known at the time, either, and is also difficult to find in other locations, as well. Two Woodring families, Nicholas Woodring and Samuel Woodring, do appear in the 1790 census living in Whitehall, PA. Whitehall township is just north of and abuts Allentown, just west of Moore Township. Unlike George, however, Philip Woodring does appear in the 1800 census for the valley, by then called Sugarloaf.

It is highly probable that George’s father-in-law, Philip Woodring, moved his family from the Whitehall area to the valley sometime in the early 1790’s. George’s wife and children may have followed him and lived with the Woodring’s and other friends while George was on military assignment and then, upon his discharge, he joined his wife and children, continuing to live with friends and family until he was able to establish a place of his own in the valley. This he accomplishes probably in 1808 when Philip purchases the land in Conyngham. 

On July 25, 1796, Helman tells us George was commissioned a Captain of the Militia, Fifth Company, Eighth Regiment, for frontier service.[23] She is not kind enough, however, to tells us any further details than those! It is interesting to note, however, that the Whiskey Rebellion began in 1795 in Pittsburgh, PA. Is it possible that George was one of the soldiers that Washington took with him to this frontier town to put down the rebellion and help keep the peace?

If the George Drum who appears in the 1790 census living in Allen is “our” George, and if he was living in Williams in 1789, just married a few years earlier, why did he move? Perhaps he just wanted to be closer to family, to the Woodring’s and the Strauss’s and/or his grandmother if she was still alive, now that his grandfather had passed. However, once he arrived there, he found the Woodring’s had plans to move north, to join the growing German community in what was then called Sugarloaf. With nothing left to hold him to Williams or Allen/Moore, perhaps wanting to get away from the area where he lost his parents and perhaps now both grandparents, especially after receiving a new military appointment on the frontier, he decided to follow his father-in-law and start a new life in the German community in that valley to the north as well!

Return to the Drums of Drums, PA on August 27, 2018 for the 6th post, It Takes a Village.

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[1] Wert, Hal Elliott, Hoover: The Fishing President; portrait of the private man and his life outdoors (Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 2005) p 19

[2] Helman, Laura M., History and Genealogy of the Drum Family (Allentown, PA: Berkemeyer, Keck & Co., 1927), p3

[3] “Margret” spelled as it appears on gravestone. Listed in Helman genealogy as “Margaret”

[4] Stories from PA History, The American Revolution, 1765-1783: Chapter Four: Border Wars, Explorepahistory.com http://explorepahistory.com/story.php?storyId=1-9-11&chapter=4 accessed 5/13/2016

[5] Bradsby, H.C., ed, History of Luzerne County, Pennsylvania (Chicago: S.B. Nelson & Co., 1893). Chapter XXI (continued): Sugarloaf Township. http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/luzerne/1893hist/ accessed 6/7/2016

[6] Moore, Rogan H., The Bloodstained Field, A History of the Sugarloaf Massacre, September 11, 1780 (Bowie, MD: Heritage Books, Inc. 2000)

[7] Bradsby, Chapter VIII: Sugarloaf Massacre.

[8] Bradsby, Chapter XXI (continued): Sugarloaf Township.

[9] Jackson, Kent, “Rewriting History: Autor disputes names of Sugarloaf Massacre militia leader, victims”, Hazleton Standard-Speaker (June 21, 2015) P1A

[10] Clader, Milo Daniel, “Address of Milo Daniel Clader”, Annals of the Sugarloaf Historical Association, Vol. 1 (Hazleton, PA: Sugarloaf Historical Association, 1934) pp 11 – 13

[11] Moore. P15

[12] Bradsby, Chapter XXI (continued): Butler Township

[13] Drum, Nora, Miss; Mrs. R. S. Small, and Mrs. Millard Shelhamer, Drums Methodist Church and Valley Notes (Drums, PA: St. Paul’s Methodist Church, 1953)  

[14] Helman, p3

[15] 200^th Anniversary: 1792-1992 (St. Johns, PA: St. John’s United Church of Christ, 1992)

[16] Helman, p 28

[17] Bigelow, Mrs. John L. and Mrs. E. B. Mulligan, Jr., Eds., Let Freedom Ring (Conyngham-Sugarloaf Bicentennial Commission, 1976, Limited Edition) p 14

[18] Munsell on Butler Township, 1880, History of Freeland, PA, https://www.andrew.cmu.edu/user/ct0u/munsell_butler.html accessed 8/11/2016

[19] Bradsby, Chapter XXI (continued): Sugarloaf Township.

[20] Butler Township History, Butler Township website, http://www.butlertownship.org/about-us/history/Print.html accessed 6/14/2016

[21] Butler Township History

[22] Helman, p 28

[23] Helman, p3