My Valley
The "Company" store headed by Hiram Post, which was a general emporium designed to fill the needs not only of the tannery families, but the entire neighborhood for shoes, stockings, dress goods of calicoes and muslin, cashmere, merino, and silk as well as groceries, was in fact a general department store and apparently did a big business catering to women of all classes of society.
As well as the store previously noted, there were two other stores less pretentious than the Company store owned and operated respectively by John Lang and Charles Phillips.
Beside the workmen's houses, there stood the palatial residence of John W. Swan, one of the founders, as well as the smaller home of James Swan, a son of the elder John W. James was an important factor in the business, having invented a process which dyed the leather a beautiful buff color. Other connections of the business were George Foote, George Swan and Hiram Post, all related to each other and in one way or another to Wynkoop Kiersted. Their homes were not so centrally located but still within walking distance of their business.
The Kiersted home was the show place of the Valley. A
large white square-built house topped by a cupola, it was set in the midst of a spacious
lawn surrounded by a high white picket fence, all kept in the most beautiful order by the
many workmen who had jobs there. Labor was cheap and plentiful. Almost everyone could
afford an extra man or two. My grandmother never paid over 50 cents to a woman for a day's
washing and that, too, over the old rubbing board. Men's wages were in proportion, even
school teachers' wages were exceedingly low. Some schools paid $6.00 per week and even as
late as 1892 when I graduated from normal school $500.00 per year for a woman grade
teacher was considered tops. I've no doubt but that many a man fed and clothed his family
on $1.00 a day, but it must be remembered that prices of basic materials were cheap too.
The old song gives evidence of this:
"A dollar a day is very good pay
For work on the Boulevard"
Everyone worked and no one considered himself better or worse because of that fact. Even the Kiersted family who might have considered themselves as having prestige not enjoyed by others, lived very democratic lives. They owned a fine carriage and employed a coachman but generally appeared in a 3-seated open platform wagon instead of the family closed carriage richly upholstered in blue broadcloth. This was kept for state occasions only:
The family consisted,.of two sons and a daughter beside Mr. and Mrs. Kiersted. The elder son McEckron in time took over the Company store. Wynkoop Jr. graduated as a civil engineer from Union College in Schenectady and Ella studied art in Cooper Union, New York City. Later she married James Callbreath of White Lake.
The close friends of Uncle Howard, of course, made a lasting impression on my memory, because of their strong character and leadership in the affairs of the Valley. My grandfather, William Gillespie II, was stout, stocky, steadfast, a strong disciplinarian, but withal had, on occasion, a merry twinkle in his eye. He smoked a clay pipe for years but for some reason gave it up. One day he came home nauseated so much that he could get to the sitting room couch with difficulty. When able to explain, he confessed to grandmother that someone at the hotel had passed around cigars. He had accepted one with result as though he had never smoked before. Jim Ramsey, the town wag, said- "Yeah, yeah, I saw the Squire staggering down the road clutching at gate posts. Says I, something's wrong; Squire never behaved like that before. "It was a long time before the Squire heard the end of that experience.
Grandfather was a surveyor, and many a mile did he walk, carrying his 80-link chain and many a large tract was measured by him and his instruments, now antique. He was twice elected to the State Legislature at Albany. He was Justice of the Peace in Bethel Township for many years and often held court in the large lower room designated as "the office". Once as I stopped by to see my grandparents, I heard that a real prisoner in handcuffs had been brought before the Squire that very morning. My missed opportunity of seeing a real thief or murderer, or whatever, was long regarded as one of the chief regrets of my life. He often paid the bounty on wild cats when they were brought to him for inspection, to show that the law had been kept. The ears were clipped so that the man could sell his skins legally and collect only once.
I remember a tale told involving my Grandfather's half sister Phoebe Morris who was walking up the old north road one afternoon in winter. She was attracted by a slight noise overhead in a tree and looking up she saw a panther glaring down at her. Making use of the time honored method of "fixing him with her eye" she began walking backward still looking steadily at the anima who seemed to be transfixed and when she had what she considered a safe distance between them turned and made leg bail for home.
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