The Story of Abraham Parrish, Mendon’s First Tavern Keeper (Part I)

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Wyoming Forts A-Fort Durkee, B-Fort Wyoming or Wilkesbarre, C-Fort Ogden, D-Kingston Village, E-Forty Fort, G-battleground, H-Fort Jenkins, I-Monocasy Island, J-Pittstown stockades, G-Queen Esther’s Rock Source: Lossing, Benson, The Pictorial Field-Book of the Revolution, Harper & Brothers, Publishers, January 7, 1859, p. 353

In many ways, the life of Abraham Parrish wasn’t that different from any other person participating in the formative decades of the grand American Experiment.

In other ways, he lived a unique life that exposed him at an early age to the rarified frontier air that existed when Western New York emerged from its dense terra incognita forest. He witnessed firsthand nearly all the major personalities of our region and saw how they forged this thickly wooded region into an industrious civilization.

But let’s not get far ahead…

Zebulon Parish represents a typical American story. He was born on February 12, 1726 in Windham, a town in the eastern half of the Colony of Connecticut between Hartford and the Rhode Island border. He not only shares a birthday with Abraham Lincoln, he shares something else – his descendants were active in the abolition movement.

There was a very good reason Zebulon’s family joined the fight against slavery – his grandfather, John Wattles, came to America as a slave.

Our story, therefore, begins in Scotland…

John Wattles was born in Scotland and lived in tumultuous times. Great Britain’s King (Charles I) had a son (also named Charles) who was King of Scotland. A lot of folks didn’t like Charles I. In fact, they didn’t like the whole idea of a monarchy. They preferred a republic. (Hmm, interesting idea, given this was more than a hundred years before the American Revolution.)

Parliament decided Oliver Cromwell was the man to lead this new republican government. Charles I disagreed and so began a roughly decade long battle for control of Great Britain. Ol’ Chuck was tried for treason and beheaded in 1649. The execution was quite a spectacle, with people not knowing what to think. Even the executioner refused to shout the usual “Behold the head of a traitor!” for fear people would recognize his voice.

Meanwhile, back in Scotland…

The younger Charles would have none of this. He was popular in Scotland and drew an army of Scots to take one last stand against Cromwell’s forces. Among those Scotsmen was the one named John Wattles.

The Scots didn’t have quite the success Charles envisioned. During the Battle of Worcester (September 3, 1651) Cromwell’s army captured Wattles, along with thousands of others faithful to King Charles I (“the martyr”). The good news: unlike Charles I, they weren’t executed for treason. The bad news…

On October 20th, 1651, Parliament, now controlled by Cromwell, granted amnesty to these prisoners with the stipulation that they pay their own way to the Colonies to serve out their sentence. Wattles, apparently listed as “John Woodall” and/or “John Wodell” on the ship’s manifest of 272 passengers, boarded the John & Sara in London. The boat was then inspected at Gravesend before setting sail.1

Upon reaching Massachusetts Colony in 1652, Samuel Richardson of Woburn paid twenty pounds to buy “John Woodall” for a term of eight years. Although Richardson died in 1658, Wattles didn’t gain his freedom until 1660 and took up settlement a few miles from Woburn in a town on the edge of the frontier called Chelmsford. Given 15 acres of land, he built a place to live and farm. In 1666 he married Mare Goole (Gould). The had several children before John was killed by Indians in King Philip’s War in March of 1676.2

What makes John Wattles interesting to us isn’t his heroic exploits. It’s his eldest child. Mary Wattell (why the “s” dropped off is anyone’s guess) was born in 1668. She really must have liked her father because, in 1685 she married John Parish. The thing of note about John Parish is that he lived in Mendon, Massachusetts, but that’s merely a coincident fact in our story. More important is where they moved. Having suffered one too many Indian attacks in Mendon, the young family promptly moved to a place called Preston in New London County, Connecticut Colony.3

John had a son by the name of Isaac, born in 1697. By 1720, however, Isaac Parish moved to Windham, a bit inland from Preston. Isaac was Abraham’s grandfather. He was a tavern-keeper in Windham.4 Keep that in mind.

It was in Windham that Zebulon Parish, Abraham’s father was born and was married (to Hannah Kimball). It’s also where Abraham was born. They didn’t stay too long. This branch of the Parish family was one of several families to move Connecticut Colony’s then western-most settlement – Westmoreland. Today, that settlement is located in what is now Wyoming County – the one in northeastern Pennsylvania.

“Pennsylvania?” you ask?

Yes, that’s a long story, a different story. Maybe I’ll tell it later. This story is about the Wyoming Massacre.

On the evening of June 30, 1778, Colonel John Butler brought 400 British regulars to the edge of Wyoming Valley and the Connecticut Yankees’ settlement. Along with him came 500 Iroquois (mostly Seneca) warriors5, led by Sakayenguaraghton, a.k.a. the “Old King” of the Seneca tribe.6

In the dawn of July 3rd, the settlers, aware of the approaching enemy, congregated in the Forty fort, which was the main fort of the area. The defenders could count 368 men among them. Little did they know until later that morning that the Tory sympathizers manning nearby Wintermoot fort willingly gave up their charge to the British. After discovering this, the men had a heated debate: should they retain their defensive posture or should they attack?7

A 3 o’clock in the afternoon, they chose to attack,8 but against a force more than twice their size, they soon fell back. Many settlers, including women and children fled to the Pocono mountains and the Delaware River. Those that feared the long trek sought refuge in Wyoming fort. The next day (ironically, July 4th), the British and Iroquois partners forced the fort to surrender.

After agreeing to peaceful terms, the Tories promptly reneged, burning the 23 homes in the village of Wilkesbarre, separating the men from their families and forcing the remainder on a 60-mile hike through the swamps with little food or clothing. The survivors called this trek through the wilderness “The Shades of Death.” In all, the settlers suffered more than 300 casualties – nearly all the men.9

Those that delayed their leave watch in horror as the warriors tortured their prisoners to gruesome death. One historian says, “that between the 3rd of July and the morning of the 4th of July, there was a massacre of the male settlers, and of the Americans engaged in the conflict of the 3rd of July, equalling anything of the kind in Indian history for cruelty and atrocity!”10

John Butler paid $10 for each scalp brought to him, and by the end of the 4th, he had already collected 227.11 Ishmael Benn, who was at the fort when it surrendered, later testified “on the night after the battle, seeing fires under some large oaks near the river, he with his father, Squire Whitaker and old Captain Blanchard, went down to the river side, they could see naked white men running around the fire, could hear the cries of agony, could see the savages following them with their spears, it was a dreadful sight.”12

But there was a fate worse than death. It was one that befell Major Roswell Franklin and his sister. After fighting alongside his father, he watched in horror as his mother and his other sister were killed right in front of him. Then he and his surviving sister were taken prisoner, Franklin for three years, his sister for eleven (which would be six years after the war had ended). Franklin, by the way, was the last living person who saw action in the Wyoming Massacre. He became the first settler of Aurora, New York in 1787 and died there in 1843.13

Where was Abraham Parrish during all this? And why is this last tale of particular relevance to the Parrish family and, ultimately, to the Town of Mendon? Stay tuned next week for Part II of The Story of Abraham Parrish.

1Autobiography of Gurdon Wallace, by Gurdon Wallace Wattles, Scribner Press, 1922
2Ibid
3geni.com website, accessed April 4, 2021, https://www.geni.com/people/John-Parish/6000000000897682025
4History of Windham County Connecticut, Volume I, by Ellen D. Larned, printed by Charles Hamilton, Worcester, MA, 1874 p. 555
5History of Wyoming: In a Series of Letters, from Charles Miner, to His Son William Penn Miner, L. Crissy, Publisher, Philadelphia, 1845, Appendix p. 79
6The Massacre of Wyoming, Rev. Horace Edwin Hayden, Wyoming Historical and Geological Society, Wilkes-Barre, PA, 1895, p. xi
7Annals of Philadelphia and Pennsylvania, Vol. II, by John F. Waston, 1850, p. 125
8The Massacre of Wyoming, p. xiii
9 Annals of Philadelphia and Pennsylvania, Vol. II, p.125
10The Massacre of Wyoming, p. xiv
11Ibid, p. xiv
12Ibid, p. xvi
13Annals of Philadelphia and Pennsylvania, Vol. II, p.127

Why Is New York State Trying To Kill Print Newspapers?

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Do you enjoy reading this newspaper? Do you enjoy reading anything in print as opposed to reading a screen on an electronic device?

If the answer to either of these questions is “yes” the State of New York is brewing a budget that will certainly disappoint you. And the clock is working against you to prevent this.

As you can read from the Letter to the Editor below from Michelle Rea, Executive Director of the New York Press Association, the Extended Producer Responsibility Act may soon make it financially impossible for newspapers – and especially small newspapers like the Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel – to maintain a sustainable business.

That’s too bad. We recently asked our readers “In your own words (not to exceed 25), Continue Reading “Why Is New York State Trying To Kill Print Newspapers?”

Who’s Really Going After Cuomo?

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Allow me to begin with this caveat: I am not a fan of Andrew Cuomo. I do not support the bulk of his policies. I do not condone what many call his “thuggish” behavior. Above all, I feel he is a discredit to all those Italian-Americans who have tried to live a life that transcends the Hollywood stereotype of our honored heritage.

If you doubt any of the above, then go back and reread some of my previous columns.

That being said, even I find it somewhat suspicious that this once-darling of the politically woke now finds himself dodging quite serious accusations against his policies, his administration, and his very character.

My first inclination might have been “couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” but the coincidences Continue Reading “Who’s Really Going After Cuomo?”

So Long, Hal. We Hardly Knew Ye…

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The signs were ominous.

As I pulled into the familiar parking spot, I couldn’t help but notice the unbroken blanket of fresh fallen snow. No one had parked here. In fact, save for a long pair of footprints making a path in the snow to the door, there was no sign of life.

I glanced up at the storefront windows to see if the lights inside were on. But the blinds shuttered the windows completely, barring any spying eyes from the outside.

On one hand, the daily hours remained posted in their usual spot. On the other hand, there was neither a “We’re Closed” sign or a “We’re Open” sign.

That was strange.

I told my father to wait in the warm car and that I’d check out the situation. I got out of Continue Reading “So Long, Hal. We Hardly Knew Ye…”

We Need High-Speed Broadband, Now!

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“I would long since for the time that no votes buy our cares;
For people that once possessed command, high civil office, legions and all else,
now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses.”

– From Satire X, Juvenal, ca. 100 AD

When the Roman satirical poet Juvenal wrote these lines centuries ago, he meant it as an expose of government corruption. It also represented a warning to a populace too eager to sacrifice freedom for immediate delights.

Unfortunately, rather than a cautionary alert, Juvenal’s “bread and circuses” has become a blueprint from which every dictator since has built his empire.

You can now add Andrew Cuomo to the long sorry list of power-mad rulers seeking to Continue Reading “We Need High-Speed Broadband, Now!”

Fandemonium: Passing the Generational Torch

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I can’t understate how many times people asked me the following question in the past week: “Chris, did you get tickets to the playoff game?”

For those of you who didn’t go to St. Catherine’s Church when people still went to church, the Carosa family has a certain reputation. Each Sunday – football season or not – one or more of us (usually more of us) stood in line for communion resplendent in official and unofficial Bills attire.

Those were our Sunday clothes. It became such a tradition that, on those rare occasions (usually in the summer) when our garments didn’t sport a Bills logo, people would notice.

This “worship” of the Buffalo Bills began long ago. My father, however, was too young to remember the original Buffalo Bills.

Incidentally, did you know the first version of the Buffalo Bills appeared in the All-America Continue Reading “Fandemonium: Passing the Generational Torch”

A Look Back (Part II): A Pre-Civil War (1855) View Of A Village On The Rebound

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Last week we took the time machine all the way back to 1841, just three years after the Village of Honeoye Falls was officially incorporated. This week we skip ahead a little more than a decade. In that span, the City of Rochester, viewed as a collaborator in 1841, apparently had proven itself a formidable competitor.

Things didn’t look good for Honeoye Falls… until 1853.

That’s when what ultimately became known as “The Peanut Line” (the Canandaigua & Niagara Falls R.R.) came through. There’s little evidence of that game changing event today, save for a single monument in the shape of the limestone abutment smack dab in Continue Reading “A Look Back (Part II): A Pre-Civil War (1855) View Of A Village On The Rebound”

A Look Back (Part I): An Early (1841) View Of A New Village

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Here’s an annoying problem I discovered while researching for the book Hamburger Dreams: there’s a lot of people and places that come up when you search the words “hamburger” or “hamburg” that have nothing to do with the delicious sandwich that spawned a trillion-dollar industry.

This required me to be both creative and patient as I sifted through hundreds of century old newspaper articles. It eventually worked, but it took a lot of time. In the end, it proved worthy.

The same thing is happening now as I complete my research on the Masonic Temple/Wilcox Hotel/Wilcox House/Falls Hotel (yes, that one building has gone by several names during its nearly 200-year existence). It turns out Continue Reading “A Look Back (Part I): An Early (1841) View Of A New Village”

Ode to a Once Mighty Oak

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And in that brief moment, its reign ended.

We don’t know how old it really was, but the centuries had exacted their toll. Despite the efforts of the valiant few, the rot that builds with age had eaten its way through the internal fabric that once supported its mighty infrastructure.

When that final gust rushed through, the great citadel had fallen. It had stood for so long that those closest to it, stunned by the fatal reality before their own eyes, could only muster an anemic disbelief.

All that incredulity could not suspend the finality that was. It was gone. Not really. But really.

*          *          *

The Seneca tribe was a fierce warrior tribe. They had to be. They guarded the “west gate” of the Iroquois Confederacy. From that position, they both protected one flank of their Continue Reading “Ode to a Once Mighty Oak”

Two Wrongs Still Don’t Make A Right

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I weep for my city. I weep for my country. I weep for our ancestors who worked so hard to overcome the obvious frailty that is all humanity.

I cry for those swept aside by events. My heart bleeds for the bystanders who find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. I grow sullen, knowing the damage done cannot be quickly repaired.

It’s a sad commentary on the state of our citizenry that a noble cause has devolved into a self-inflicted chaos. Surely, no one believes it’s fair to punish innocents. Yet, clearly, we enable those who feel justified in doing precisely that.

None of this should have ever been allowed to happen.Continue Reading “Two Wrongs Still Don’t Make A Right”