This sketch, (anecdote really), comes from a series of newspaper articles and letters written by James D. Pinckney in the 1860s for the Catskill Recorder and Democrat of upstate New York.

    These sketches are full of "entertaining local matter and gossip, of time, place, and person, which, in his day, and before it, floated currently upon the stream ..." Such is certainly the case with this brief sketch which mentions William Wynkoop in passing.

    Who this William Wynkoop was I have not been able to determine. I would like to know, since I'm always interested in the misdeeds of the family. The Black Sheep are always the most interesting. If you have any more information regarding this incident, drop me a line at [email protected]. I'd love to know more. Maybe we can update this page at some later date.

    {Incidentally, I don't have the faintest idea why this sketch was labelled "Catskill Cemetery Papers". There isn't a single mention of a cemetery in it. Go figure!}

    All my best,

    Chris

    February 7th, 1866.

    Those who have taken up the Recorder with the expectation of finding, in these sketches, any coherent record of old times in Catskill, or connected history of its ancient inhabitants, have, of course, been disappointed. Snatching, here and there, an occasional hour of leisure, (usually at night) I have had no time to study my subjects or revise my lucubrations, and they are, consequently, thrust upon your readers in all their crude and undigested, if not indigestible imperfections. I sometimes wonder how they have been endured, to say nothing of the actual favor with which they have been received by some of my old friends and townsfolk.

    Looking over the last number, I am tempted to say a word or two of the early military companies of Catskill, though (as I keep no copy of these articles) the sketch may be somewhat iterative, and the reminiscence be "like a thrice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man."

    First, among the warlike organizations, was the Artillery. This company, if not founded by Jared Stocking, was commanded by him at my earliest remembrance. Its depot, or gun-house stood adjacent to his dwelling, and not far from my early residence. I do not distinctly recollect the style of uniform worn at that time, except that the hats, or caps, were of the chopping-knife shape, and I used to imagine that they were a part of the offensive armor, the wearer running, head foremost, at his enemy and splitting him.

    Of the rank and file, I can now only recall to mind Jerry Dobbs, a blacksmith, and that he was once forcibly ejected from his house by one Gates, for non-payment of rent, and that there was a prodigious hubbub raised about it in Catskill, Dobbs challenging Gates to mortal combat with broad-swords. Another - Joe Simpson - also a blacksmith. He enlisted in the regular army near the close of the War of 1812, and the last I saw of him he was bestowing a hearty farewell kiss on Betty Dougherty. He never returned, and that was probably lucky for Wm. Wynkoop, who shot Joe's brother for stealing pork.

    After the war, the Company languished, and at last "gin out." It was revived by Apollos Cooke, a few years later, and, through his exertions, soon became a rather large crowd of good looking "sojers." A fencing-master, named Cheesebro, was engaged to teach his art - a military spirit was infused into the people - even youngsters essayed to be swordsmen, and every board-fence and dead-wall was marked by diagrams of "Cut one, two, three, four, five and six - in the rear."

Source:

Pinckney, James D., Reminiscences of Catskill. Local Sketches, Catskill, J. B. Hall, Publisher, "Recorder and Democrat Office", 1868, (Reprinted and Indexed by Palatine Transcripts, Arthur C. M. Kelly, Rhinebeck, New York, 1981)
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