Death of Thomas Quick, Sr., and the Threat of His Son Tom.
Many years have passed since William Wallace and Thomas Powers passed up
the Delaware Valley. Then the country was one unbroken forest, inhabited
by wild beasts and Indians only. Now all has changed. The Indians have
mostly left, and the whites have taken their place. The flat land from
Milford to Mamakating is mostly improved, and is yielding to the farmer
an abundant harvest. Stacks of hay and grain are to be seen in every
field. The flail is heard from morn till night thrashing out the golden
wheat. In every house is heard the buzzing wheel, the prattling babe and
the merry voices of lovely maids. Grist and saw mills have been erected,
schools established, and passable roads built.
But now a cloud appears. It was the cloud that Cahoonshee had foretold
many years before. That:
“There would be a war of extermination between the white men and the
Indians, and the Indians would be exterminated.”
The Indians claimed that they had been cheated by the whites, and robbed
and driven from their soil and the graves of their fathers. Revenge
smothered in their breasts, and at a council held by the remnants of
several of the tribes, it was resolved to destroy all the whites in the
Delaware and Neversink Valleys.
The whites did not see the danger that was impending over them, or
the dark cloud that would soon deluge the Valley with blood and cause
mourning in every house.
Most of the inhabitants thought the Indians friendly, and those that were
unfriendly too few to make war on the whites.
For this reason they became careless, and went to their fields and on
journeys unarmed, and thus became easy victims of the savages.
Thomas Quick, Sr., was now living on his farm at Milford, and had always
been a staunch friend of the Indians. His house had always been open for
their reception and his table bountifully spread to satisfy their wants.
His son, Tom spent most of his time among them and appeared to think more
of them and their savage life than he did of his father and the comforts
of home.
He thought that this would protect him, and that if war was made upon the
whites, he would not be molested.
But he was deceived. Instead of being passed by, he was doomed to be the
first victim. His sentence had already been passed, and the wily Indians
were waiting in ambush for an opportunity to execute it.
Having occasion to use some hoop-poles, he, with his son Tom and his
son-in-law, went up the river to cut them unarmed.
At this time the Indians were concealed, planning an attack on the
Milford settlement, with the intention of putting to death the entire
population. Knowing that Quick and his sons kept trusty rifles and that
their aim was deadly, they faltered and argued as to the best mode of
attack.
In the midst of this harangue, Quick and his sons were seen coming toward
them. It was immediately resolved to take their scalps.
An Indian by the name of Muswink fired, and Quick fell mortally wounded.
He advised his son to leave him to his fate and save themselves. But they
persisted in trying to save him. He cried again as the Indians rushed
upon them.
Leave me and save yourselves and those that are at the house.
It was a struggle for Tom to leave his father, and it was not until he
saw them coming in great numbers that he fled.
Farewell, Father, Farewell, your death shall be avenged.
Then he fled across the river on the ice, a volley of bullets followed
him. He falls. The war whoop is sounded.
Tom is dead—Tom is dead!
But Tom is neither dead nor wounded. He springs to his feet and escapes
to the Jersey Shore. A ball had struck the heel of his shoe and tripped
him.
In the meantime his father had been killed and scalped. Tom sought the
opportunity and recovered the scalped body of his father and gave it
christian burial. His love for the Indians and their society now forsook
him, and the uppermost thought in his mind was revenge. He covered the
grave with green sod, and taking his knife in his right hand, and his
rifle in his left, looking toward heaven, exclaimed:
“By the point of the knife in my right;
and the deadly bullet in my left;
By heaven and all there is in it,
by earth and all there is on it;
By the love I bore my father,
here on his grave I swear eternal vengeance
against the whole Indian race.
I swear to kill all, to spare none;
The old man with silver hair,
The lisping babe without teeth,
the mother quick with child, and
the maid in the bloom of youth shall die.
A voice from my father’s grave cries
Revenge! Eternal revenge!”
and he threw himself across his father’s grave.
How well Tom kept his promise and how many Indians his rifle sent to the
Spirit world will appear in the next chapter.