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HERITAGE CREATES IDENTITY
IDENTITY & DETERMINATION UNDERGIRD THE FUTURE
THE HALLOWED GROUND
PROJECT
Warwick,NY 2002 - 2003
ALBERT WISNEP.. PUBUC LIBRARY
2 COLONJALAVENUE
WARWICK, NY 10990
....
The Old School Baptist Cemetery
Preservingour Heritage
By Jean Beattie May
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Cherry blossoms flourished this spring behind the "Welcome to the Village of
Warwick" sign at the corner of Forrester Avenue and Galloway Road. The cherry
trees were planted by volunteers on the Shade Tree Commission in the 1960's to
mark the site of Warwick's first church - the Old School Baptist Log meeting house
and graveyard .
It was on this piece of land that the very first church in the Warwick Valley
was built using log construction in 1764. The original parishioners, pioneers who
moved to Warwick from Connecticut, requested that their former minister from
Stratfield, Connecticut, come to Warwick to help them establish a church. Elder
James Benedict made the journey to Warwick in November, 1764, and returned to
Connecticut in December. In March, the congregation again petitioned Elder
Benedict to come to Warwick. He returned with a Covenant to establish the church
and later agreed to become the first minister of "this flourishing Church in the
wilderness." The newly organized Warwick Baptist Congregation boasted eighteen
members in 1765.
The land at the corner of today's Galloway Road and Forrester Avenue was
deeded to three trustees of the church by Elder Benedict for the sum of forty
shillings - really a token sum even in 1764 to legalize the transfer of the title .
During the Revolutionary War, the log meeting house stood in a grove of oak trees,
and it was there that Colonel Dearborn's New England Regiment camped on its
march form Fish-Kill ferry to Aston, Pennsylvania to join Sullivan's Expedition
against the Indians. At that time, Elder Benedict moved to Wyoming, Pennsylvania
with his family, but the Benedicts had to flee for their lives after a massacre. He
returned to Warwick in 1777, where he died and was buried in 1792. The Benedicts
gave four sons to the Revolution.
By 1795, the graves of the pioneers and their families filled all the space
around the old log Warwick Baptist meeting house and spilled out "even out to the
roadway." A new graveyard was started on land across the road donated to the
church by James Burt.
Under Old Rooftrees (page #155,
written in 1908 about Warwick, we hear this lament about the Hallowed Ground:
"Why this early 'God's Acre' containing the precious dust of so many of Warwick's
pioneers was allowed to become a common ... is amazing. Honored dead lie buried
there, no indeed "dust to dust' - Elder James Benedict, Daniel Burt, the Sayers - so
many, many of the grand pioneers who settled our native home ... Why did their
children not observe the care of their hallowed graves? With the removal of the
church seemed to die out interest in the yard."
From Eliza Benedict Homby's
book,
It is important that the Village of Warwick has protected this sacred spot and
the heritage of these settlers. It is important that we not forget the proud men and
women who established this Village and fought for the independence of our
Country.
THE HALLOWED GROUND. A mere 1.4 acres - not much in terms of vast
expanses of space that come to mind when you think of a land trust saving open
space.
But, for Warwick, this particular parcel has always held a very special place that has
embodied a very special identity. It was the site of the first log cabin meeting house
in what is now the Village of Warwick. And, as was customary, it was the site of
the first cemetery of that Old School Baptist congregation. Many of the most
prominent local citizens worshipped and were buried here.
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And it served as a focus for social and political expression, too. Around that
meeting house the members of Colonel Dearborn's New England Regiment
(Revolutionary militia) camped on their way West to engage the British. Their
efforts helped protect the vital Delaware and Hudson River valleys, and they
returned to this encampment to recount the stories of their battles and victories.
These men were farmers and entrepreneurs who had come to this lush Valley
surrounded by the mountains and hillsides to establish their homes. By the midl 700's Warwick enjoyed strong agriculture and had becorrie an economic center for
trade, industry and tourism with many mills, trading centers, inns and taverns.
Strength of character, foresight and determination led them to found strong religious
institutions and schools to educate their children and anchor their community. That
same foresight and determination would lead subsequent generations to develop a
railroad to get their perishable produce to the larger outlying markets, to found a
communications company, a bank and a power company. Some of these businesses
still survive and form part of the local economy.
It is appropriate that the old meeting house site and campground where much of
local life centered should be the first property one encounters when coming into the
Village (along Route 17A). That it should help define your sense of our community
as you enter it - either as a visitor or as a resident coming home at the end of a long
day.
So, when "For Sale" signs sprouted on the property in 2000, it became a matter of
concern to many people in Warwick.
According to Sue Gardner, local history librarian at Albert Wisner Public Library
and a Trustee of the Historical Society, "This particular property is the keystone of
Warwick's identity and sense of place. There are constant inquiries about this
church and its members, from people down the block _to across the country. Saving
it is even more important, as there is no surviving congregation to preserve its
memory."
Other members of our community weren't aware of the historical significance of the
property. But they were keenly aware of the gracious sense of peace and welcome
that the land conveys to all upon their arrival in the Village. It was the simple,
uncorrupted beauty of the land with its hedge and a few beautiful trees that led
Frank and Heidi Petrucci to make a donation for the purchase of The Hallowed
Ground.
Jim Wright and Patricia Finn of Allendale, New Jersey, expressed their concern: "It
would be disastrous if it weren't saved as open space. Please accept our
contribution towards that effort."
The Orange County Genealogical Society also brought attention to the project. Sue
Simonich created a special web page so that people all across the United States
would know about the Hallowed Ground Project and could help with the
preservation effort. From this site, we received donations from as far afield as
Champaign, Illinois, Seattle, Washington, and Torrance, California.
The Genealogical Society was instrumental in helping to point out that under current
New York State law there is no provision to protect colonial cemeteries from
destruction, and like so many unincorporated colonial cemeteries in the Northeast,
the property - including the graves - is prime for development.
Analysis of the "Hallowed Ground" property by Raymond Green, a cemetery
preservation specialist, revealed many graves and possibly a small brick burial vault
on this parcel. This extends the original Old School Baptist cemetery significantly
beyond the triangle of land that was deeded to the Village by the last surviving
member of the congregation in 1971.
Many donations were received in honor of ancestors buried on the parcel. Still
others made donations in memory of family members, friends and people whom
they had admired.
Paul Bryan wrote: "I am making this donation in memory of my mother, Mrs. Ann
Bryan, who, as do I, deeply cherished the beauty of Warwick. It is my hope that
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through the efforts of the Conservancy, the beauty of our area will be forever
preserved."
The Hallowed Ground would not have been saved without donations, large and
small, from people of all walks of life, including families, senior citizens, youngsters
and the Warwick Leo Club.
"The successful fundraising in such a short time period is measure of the depth of
commitment that residents have to preserving the identity and character of this
community," said A. Cushman May, president of the Warwick Conservancy
The young people in the Leo Club voted unanimously to contribute $100 from their
treasury to preserving the heritage of their Village. " I was impressed to learn about
the property and the people who were buried there. I was surprised that I really
wasn't aware of the history, and realized that if we don't preserve this, we'll lose
track of what makes Warwick unique," said Emily Thompson, President of the
Warwick Leo Club.
Her thoughts parallel the beliefs of Dr. Richard Hull, " If we pave over our past with
asphalt, we risk obliterating those very foundations that have breathed life and
precious liberty into our cherished community. In the end, our community will be
defined not only by what we create but by what we refuse to destroy."
Acting on One Family's Values: Jill Ayers Moering and the
Legacy of Earll and Jack Ayres
Jill Ayers Moering is a descendant of Elder James Benedict, the first minister of the
Old School Baptist congregation and a Revolutionary War hero who is buried in the
Hallowed Ground. Mrs. Moering, long a member of the Warwick Historical
Society, established a matching grant for every private dollar donated to preserving
this Hallowed Ground. It was her intention to thereby honor the love she shared with
her father John Earll Ayers, Sr. and her brother, John Earll Ayers, Jr., known as
Jack. Both were much-loved members of the Warwick community.
A genealogy of the Benedict family published in 1969 traces the family's origins
back to the early 17th century when they fled religious persecution in France and
England and made their way to Long Island and Connecticut. Finally, in 1764, the
small local congregation of Old School Baptists in Warwick called upon Elder
James Benedict, the pastor whose congregation in Connecticut they had left, to
come to minister to them in the "wilderness" in Warwick. While Elder Benedict did
return to his duties in Connecticut, he was soon called back to Warwick and finally
put down roots for himself, his family and his church.
Those roots eventually led to a large family. Jill Ayers Moering spent a lot of time
in her early years with her paternal grandmother, Laura Benedict Ayers, who lived
on Kings Highway, learning about the Benedict family history and heritage.
Her father, John Earll Ayers, Sr., was an electrical engineer by training, and became
a land surveyor in Warwick. He was proud of his service in the Army Air Force, as
it was then called. As an officer during World War II, he was a LINC trainer, using
a flight simulator to teach pilots to fly, a new technology at that time. In 1953, Earll
was taken ill with emphysema (and possibly asbestosis). His health declined over a
number of years.
Jack Ayers, Jill's brother, was a "communications expert" in the Air Force, and flew
secret govenunent missions. He gathered intelligence by flying along the borders of
hostile countries where he picked up and translated their communications. His
plane was shot down in June of 1965. While he escaped serious physical injury, Jack
suffered from traumatic stress. Just 21 and recuperating, Jack was called home to be
with his father. The trip home routed the already physically and emotionally
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depleted Jack Ayers through several countries, taking an even heavier toll on his
health.
One night, driving home from a visit with friends, Maybrook, he was killed driving
off the road after falling asleep behind the wheel. Tests proved that neither alcohol
nor substances other than his prescribed medications were causes of the tragedy.
Ironically, Earll, Sr., rallied for a while but died a year later.
"My father had been ill for some time, and we were prepared for the worst, but
Jack's loss was sudden, and a particularly deep wound for me," said Mrs. Moering.
"Jack and I had spent the night before the accident talking about his future .... I had
never before talked of serious things with him. That night he let me in on his
innermost thoughts and wishes - he had accepted me as an adult, a friend and an
equal; I wasn't a child anymore. And, then he was gone.
"Preserving this land seems to me to be a fitting way to honor my father and brother,
and the heritage of the Benedict family." And to that end Mrs. Moering created a
special grant to match dollar for dollar every private contribution to this project. It
was her wish to make every private individual's donation reach twice as far. Thanks
to her determination and generosity, the Conservancy has been able to reach this
goal.
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Mrs. Moering has been deeply involved in open space preservation in Marin
County, California. She was part of a group that successfully preserved a large
piece of land as County parklands and worked to establish zoning that limits
development and preserves open space and the natural beauty of the region.
HOW ELDER JAMES BENEDICT CAME TO LAUGH
HEARTILY IN HIS OWN PULPIT
(Circa 1765)
Adapted from Under Old Rooftrees by Eliza Burt Hornby (1908)
Elder James Benedict was holding a Sabbath morning service in the first Baptist
Church in Warwick. This old-time clergyman had excellent control of his risibles
and was a grave and rather stem-faced man. But, this morning his gravity was
wholly upset and he burst out laughing in his own pulpit with his deacons and
congregation laughing [along] with him.
Sorchy, (probably a corruption of the grand Biblical name of Sarah), was one of his
congregation. She was a free mulatto woman with an Indian husband, and was fully
six feet tall, with the build of a gladiator, of Herculean strength and absolutely
without fear. Of her utter lack of any sense of danger, many instances have been
handed down.
It was a warm summer day, and the doors of the church were thrown wide open.
Suddenly there appeared near the portal a huge sheep of male persuasion, bowing
and squaring as he stepped stubbornly forward, bent on entering.
Sorchy sat near the door and with characteristic impetuosity flew to the charge.
"Shoo," she said, in a loud whisper, "shoo ol' buck!" and endeavored to drive the
intruder back. He proceeded aggressively enter when she planted a foot staunchly
each side of the door, muttering, "you shan't come in here, this is meetin' ."
Lowering his horny crest, Buck made a dive at her feet, seated her on his broad,
wooly back and trotted straight up to the pulpit where he quietly stopped, his rider
holding on to his wool with desperate grip, from her backward seat.
So paralyzed were the assembly with the tum of affairs that no one stirred, but as
they took in the utter ludicrousness of the situation, Elder and congregation burst
into an irrepressible fit of laughter. There was no avoiding the outburst. Some of the
parishioners, coming forward, seized the impromptu steed by the horns, Sorchv
dismounted. Buck was summarily ejected and driven off; but it is well authenticat
that the remainder of the service was conducted shakily.
Excerpt from "A Sister and A Brother"
From Under Old Rooftrees
by Eliza Benedict Homby, 1908
The following excerpt tells the story of the return of Hannah Bennett's brother from
the Revolutionary War in the West.
One evening as Hannah, her husband and children sat around the fire .... "The door
opened, and an Indian in full dress entered. The little girls ran to hide behind their
father, but his sister knew him instantly. Her arms went around him, her warm, true
kisses on his cheek.
Wild was the excitement in the Valley, for Jonah had been mourned as dead. Even
his sister had almost yielded up hope. From the hour of his home-coming he was
the center of an admiring group wherever he might be. His Indian costume, which
he carried home with him, was kept for years in the family. This suit, so elaborately
embroidered with beads by the deft fingers of the squaws while he was in captivity,
was hung on a peg in a roomy garret of his sister's home after being duly admired.
Many a night, after all the house was still, the three little nieces stole noiselessly as
mice from their beds, mounted the ladder to the garret, and carefully snipped here
and there a bead from the compact symbols and figures. These they strung on a
strong linen thread until Sally had a double row of blue, Mattie of pink and tiny
Polly a gay necklace of rainbow dyes. They were only worn secretly at play and
vigilantly guarded from the eyes of their parents.
All loved to gather around the hospitable hearth and listen to Jonah's stories of the
warfare; Wayne, whom he almost idolized; of the sagacious Little Turtle, and
Turkey Foot, who called Wayne "The man who never sleeps." Well was it to keep
open eyes with such a foe. His struggles, trials, adventures from babyhood would
fill a volume. His life was a romance that put fiction aside. [Jonah] declared that
the Indians treated him with uniform kindness, but were most vigilant in guarding
against his escape, and never allowed him arms. He learned to speak their language,
and became familiar with their customs.
His home-coming was saddened by news of the death of his brave commander, and
he mourned him as long as life lasted. Sad to relate, it was not a long one. The old,
terrible wound through the thigh troubled him. His splendid constitution was
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greatly impaired by wanderings in the wild, pathless woods and through privations
and exposure, and he passed away after a heroic struggle to get well. His ashes lie
in the First Baptist yard at Warwick. A great concourse for those early times
followed him to the tomb. The red stone marking his. resting place, erected by
Hannah, is gone.
This little sketch alone rescues his memory from oblivion. Why this early "God's
Acre" containing the precious dust of so many of Warwick's pioneers was once
allowed to become a common, its graves obliterated, the stones over-thrown and lost
berieath the clods, is amazing. Honored dead lie there, no indeed "dust to dust" Elder James Benedict, Daniel Burt, the Sayers - so many, many of the grand
pioneers who settled our native home. As for years I have sought every item I could
collect concerning them, I have ever marked the "culture and observance" of these
rugged settlers. How grand they were! Why did their children not observe the care
of their hallowed graves? With the removal of the church seemed to die out interest
in the yard .
Hanna Bennett's grief over her brother was pitiful. To his last hour her home was
his. Her tender hands ministered to him with all the devotion of her nature .