Person:Petrus Osterhout (2)

"At the commencement of the Revolutionary War my father was learning the blacksmith's trade of a man named R---, who was captain of the militia, and had at his house the powder and ball for his company. He professed to be a Whig, but was in fact a Tory. My father was sixteen years old when he enlisted in the army, and it was brought about as follows: One evening, about dark, a company of thirty or forty men, with their faces blackened, and disguised as Indians, came to R---'s house and demanded of him the powder and ball of his company. He at first denied that the ammunition was in his house; but at length secret signals passed between R--- and the captain of the tories, which were observed by my father, and then part of the tories rushed up stairs, seized the ammunition, and all of them left. My father had a loaded shot-gun hanging on a beam in the house, which he seized, and rushed to the door. R--- demanded where he was going; the reply was, " To shoot some of those tories." R--- forbade his going; and his wife who was unwell made a great outcry, saying that if they were molested they would come back, and murder them all. So he gave up his plan of shooting, and the next morning went to Catskill Village and enlisted. He then marched to Saratoga, was in the desperate battles with Burgoyne's army, and in nearly all the important battles of the Revolution, including the siege and capture of Cornwallis and his army at Yorktown.

"At Saratoga he was in the regiment of Colonel Van Cortland, a brave and excellent officer. At the first battle of Saratoga, at Stillwater, I think it was, the regiment was marched out, consisting then of only one hundred and fifty men, some being sick and others absent on scouting parties. When about to engape in battle a cannon-ball struck directly in front of him, throwing the dirt in all directions, and so frightening his horse that he reared and threw him on the ground in such a way that all supposed that he was killed. He jumped up, however, saying, 'Don't be frightened, my lads : I am not hurt, and will lead you on foot into action. My men, advance!' A hard-fought battle it was, the same ground having been repeatedly taken by the British and Americans, each army alternately advancing and retreating; and it turned out a drawn battle, though the Americans had the best of it. When the regiment came out of the battle, forty-seven men, or nearly one-third of their whole number, were either killed or wounded. Both of my father's file-men on each side of him were shot down. For a feather, he and many others had twigs of laurel in their hats. His was shot off close to his head; but he was not hurt in any of the many actions during the war. The second battle was still more obstinately contested. My father said that General Arnold was rushing over the field in every direction, like a madman, ordering soldiers promiscuously to follow him. It was by his orders that a party of riflemen was led where they could have a fair shot at General Frazer, the second in command in the British army there. Arnold said of that officer, 'He is a host in himself, and must be brought down.' The celebrated Timothy Murphy" (the great Indian-killer, from Schoharie County, spoken of elsewhere in this work)"was one of these riflemen; and it was believed that he shot General Frazer.

" After the surrender of Burgoyne, part of the army were for a time quartered at Schenectady, and while there my father was employed in repairing muskets, having formerly worked as a blacksmith. Among the troops were quite a number of Oneida and other friendly Indians. One day, while going to his shop, he met with a squaw richly dressed, with a plenty of silver and glass trinkets on her blanket, leggings, and moccasins; and from mere wantonness, being but a boy, he jumped into a mud-puddle near her, and bespattered her all over with mud. She was very angry; and, soon after he reached his shop, two large Indians came in, and with a loud noise and angry gestures, threatened to strike him with their tomahawks. He told them to be off, or he would beat out their brains ; and, seizing his sledge-hammer, he sprang upon them, as if to strike them, when they took to their heels and ran away. Two years afterwards, when with our troops, he was in a tavern, where he saw one of these Indians, who recognized him, and, drawing his knife, rushed upon him. At this moment a man who was near spoke in a loud voice to the Indian, who turned his head to look at the speaker, when my father quickly knocked the Indian down with his feet, and pounded him until he was tired, and left him, which ended the matter. The Osterhouts, father and son, seem to have been quite handy with their feet as well as with their hands.

"While besieging Cornwallis at Yorktown, some of our soldiers, of whom my father was one, made a large kite, to the tail of which they tied a basket, with a large tomcat fastened in it, and a lantern, lighted with oil, attached to the kite. One dark night, when the wind was blowing a brisk breeze directly towards Yorktown, the kite was sent up to a great height, the cat meanwhile screaming 'yeow, yeow,' until it was directly over the town, when they let the cord go, and the shining , musical kite rapidly descended, to the no small amazement of the British, and much to the amusement of our own troops who were concerned in and who saw what was done."

External References

• Catskill Archive, The Osterhout Narrative [1]

1. ↑ Walter D. Thomas. Osterhout Family
   # 373.
2. ↑ Birth date approximated from the baptismal record.