Allegheny Episodes Folk Lore and Legends Collected in Northern and Western Pennsylvania

It is a good thing to make resolves, but a better thing, once having made them, to keep them. On two previous occasions the compiler of the present volume has stated his resolve in prefaces to issue no more books of the kind, but has gone ahead and prepared more. Probably the motive that brought into existence the first volume can be urged in extenuation for the eleventh, namely, the desire to preserve the folk-lore of the Pennsylvania Mountains.

The contents of the present volume, like its predecessors, were gathered orally from old people and others, and written down as closely as possible to the verbal accounts. In order to escape ill feeling, as in the case with the earlier volumes, some names of persons and places, and dates have been changed. This has been done with the greatest reluctance, and only where absolutely necessary. The characters are real persons, and most of them appear under their rightful names. Many of the legends or incidents run counter to the accepted course of history, but tradition is preserved for what it is worth, and the reader can draw his own conclusions. While some of these tales end unhappily, the proportion is not greater than in life as we know it, and the general ascendency of right over wrong shines through the gloomiest passages. Life could not exist, or the world go on, unless the majority of events ended fortuitously; it is that happy preponderance which makes “hope spring eternal,” and is so often rewarded by a realization of the heart’s desire.

The various phases of the supernatural in the ensuing pages depicts probably a more normal condition of our relationship with the unseen world than the crude and clumsy mediumship found in the big cities, and may present a rational explanation of life “behind the dark curtain.”

There is certainly a spiritual life, and a purely spiritual God, and all the events of the soul are regulated by divine laws, which have only too frequently been confused with the physical life so subject to chance and reversion back to chaos.

The origins of Pennsylvania folk-lore seem to the writer like a happy blending of Indian and European elements which would have gradually, had backwoods conditions continued, developed into a definitely Pennsylvanian mythology. The fact that the writer had so many more legends in form of notes, which otherwise would have been mislaid and come to nothing, prompted him to break his resolve and prepare the present volume. And, for good or ill, he has many more, dealing with other parts of the State. What shall be their fate? Are they worthy of perpetuation as folk-lore? Apart from the general idea of preserving legendary matter for future generations, there is the added reason that the heroic lines of some of the characters appealed to him, and, to save them from the oblivion of the “forgotten millions,” their careers have been herein recorded.

Probably one-half of the stories were told to the compiler by one lady–Mrs. W. J. Phillips, of Clinton County--who spent some of her girlhood days, many years ago, on the Indian Reservations in Pennsylvania and southwestern New York.

Professor J. S. Illick, Chief of the Bureau of Research of the Pennsylvania Department of Forestry, is due thanks for securing many of the illustrations. Four of the chapters–Nos. IX, XV, XXI, XXII–are reprinted from the compiler’s historical brochure, “Penn’s Grandest Cavern,” and the first chapter, “Tulliallan,” was published in the “Sunbury Daily”; otherwise none of the chapters of this book have hitherto appeared in print.

Persons interested in more intimate details concerning the origins and characters of the various tales will be cheerfully accommodated “for private circulation only.” Like James Macpherson of “Ossian,” it can be said “the sources of information are open to all.”

The compiler hopes that through this book a more general interest in the Pennsylvania folk-lore can be created; its predecessors have missed achieving this, but there is always that hope springing afresh to “Godspeed” the newest volume. No pretense at style of literary workmanship is claimed, and the stories should be read, not as romances or short stories, but as a by-product of history–the folk-lore, the heart of the Pennsylvania mountain people. With this constantly borne in mind, a better understanding and appreciation of the meanings of the book may be arrived at.

The kindly reception accorded to the previous volumes, and also to “North Pennsylvania Minstrelsy” by the press and by a small circle of interested readers, if equalled by the present volume will satisfy the compiler, if his ambitions for a wider field of usefulness are not to be realized.

To those of press and public who have read and commented on the earlier volumes go the compiler’s gratitude, and to them he commends this book, the tales of which have had their origins mostly along the main chain of the Allegheny Mountains and on the western watershed. Sincere thanks are due to Miss Mary E. Morrow, whose intelligence and patience in transcribing the manuscripts of this and the majority of the earlier volumes of the series has had much to do with whatever recognition they may have achieved, and a pleasant memory to the author, as well.

HENRY W. SHOEMAKER.

Department of Forestry, State Capitol, Harrisburg, February 23, 1922.

P. S.–Thanks are also due to Mrs. E. Horace Quinn, late of Bucknell University, for her kindness in revising the proofs.

9-5-22.

I Tulliallan

“Why, yes, you may accompany your Uncle Thomas and myself to select the plate which we plan to present to the battleship of the line, ‘The Admiral Penn,’ which the First Lord, His Grace, Duke of Bedford, has graciously named in honor of your distinguished grandsire,” said Richard Penn, pompously, answering a query addressed to him by his young son, John.

The youth, who was about eighteen years of age and small and slight, seemed delighted, and waited impatiently with his father for Uncle Thomas’ arrival. Soon a liveried footman announced the arrival of Thomas Penn, and the brothers, after embracing, started from the imposing mansion in New Street, Spring Gardens (near the Admiralty Arch), accompanied by the younger scion and a retinue of secretaries, retainers and footmen.

It so happened that the leading silversmith in the city, James Cox, was of the Quaker faith, to which William Penn, the famous founder of Pennsylvania, and father of Richard and Thomas, belonged, and was particularly pleased to be the recipient of this costly and important order. It was an occasion of such importance to him that his wife, sons and daughter had come to his place of business to witness the transaction and, perhaps, meet the aristocratic customers.

As they entered the establishment, the tradesman himself opened the door, bowing low as the two portly gentlemen, with their plum-colored coats, snuff boxes and walking sticks, entered arm in arm, followed by the diminutive John, in a long, red coat, while the minions of various degrees waited outside, clustered about the gilded chairs.

It must be understood that these sons of William Penn were not members of the Society of Friends, but had assumed the faith of their grandfather, the Admiral, and founder of the family fortunes, and young John was nominally a member of the same faith.

The portly and self-important gentlemen were soon absorbed in studying the various designs of silver services, while the restless and half-interested gaze of young John wandered about the salesroom. It was not long in falling on the slender, demure form of Maria Cox, the silversmith’s only daughter. Clad in her Quaker garb and bonnet, she was certainly a picture of loveliness, almost seventeen years old, with deep blue eyes, dark brows and lashes, fair complexion, with features exaggerately clearcut, made John Penn’s senses reel in a delirium of enthusiasm.

Ordinarily he would have become impatient at the delay in selecting the silver service, for the older gentlemen were slow of decision and he was a spoiled child, but this time he was lost in admiration and he cared not if they remained in the shop for the balance of the day. John Penn, himself, for a small lad was not unprepossessing; his hair was golden, his eyes expressive and blue, his complexion like a Dresden china doll’s, his form erect and very slim, yet few girls had fancied him, for he was selfish and not inclined to talk.

Seeing that he was not assisting his elders in selecting the silverware, Mrs. Cox, the wife, and a woman of some tact and breeding, introduced conversation with the young man, eventually drawing her daughter into it, and it was a case of love quickly on both sides.

When, after four hours of selecting and changing and selecting again, the Penns finally accepted a design and placed their order, John had arranged that he was to dine with the Cox family and see the young beauty frequently. All went well until the day appointed for the visit to the home of the silversmith. John Penn presented himself before his father attired in his best red velvet coat with gold facings, white satin knee breeches, pumps with diamond buckles, his face much powdered, and sporting a pearl inlaid sword. The elder Penn demanded to know the cause of the youth’s magnificence, for ordinarily his Quaker blood showed itself in a distaste for fancy apparel.