Presidents Of The United States

Richard Smythe acquires Smithtown from Lyon Gardiner in 1663….

By Bradley Harris

    Legend has it that Richard Smythe rode a bull on a jaunt around the boundaries of Smithtown when he staked out his claim to the land.  To ride this bull a distance of some 35 miles through an untracked wilderness, in one day’s time, would have required a superhuman effort on the part of Richard Smythe, to say nothing of what would have been required of the bull. The most ardent supporters of the legendary ride look for ways in which Richard Smythe could have accomplished such a superhuman feat.  Some say Richard Smythe wisely chose the longest day of the year, carefully plotted his course, trained his bull, built up his endurance and then made his mad dash.  But the legendary account never provides an explanation of how ownership of the land passed from the Nesaquakes to Richard Smythe.  For that explanation one has to look at the historical record.

            The historical record of deeds and conveyances involving the Nesaquake lands show that Richard Smythe went through an involved and protracted struggle to legally acquire the land that is Smithtown today.  His struggle began when he approached Lyon Gardiner about buying land that Gardiner had been given by the Montauk Chieftain Wyandanch.  That land was owned by the Nesaquake Indians who lived along both banks of the Nissequogue River.  Sometime in 1663, Richard Smythe got a conveyance for the Nesaquake lands along the Nissequogue River from Lyon Gardiner.  Unfortunately we don’t know what this deed said because the deed has been lost.  But we do know how Lyon Gardiner came into the possession of the Smithtown lands.

            Lyon Gardiner of Gardiner’s Island fame, was the first Englishman to settle on eastern Long Island in 1639, and he was given the lands along the river as a gift from the Montauk chieftain Wyandanch.  As the chief or sachem of the Montauks, the largest tribe of Indians on Long Island, Wyandanch was recognized as “the acknowledged ruler of all other sachems on the east end of Long Island.  All the smaller tribes paid tribute to him, and it was generally understood that no conveyance of land was valid without his concurrence. In many instances, he held title to the lands by gift or purchase from the subordinate chief, and conveyed those lands to whites in his own name.”  In 1659, Wyandanch did this with the Nesaquake lands when he presented them to Gardiner as a gift.  Why he chose to do this is interesting.  (William S. Pelletreau, A History of Long Island, New York: The Lewis Publishing Company, 1903, p. 200.)

            According to William Pelletreau, after settling on Gardiner’s Island in 1639, Lyon Gardiner had been a friend to Wyandanch and the Montauks and had served as a “counselor in all their troubles.”  (Pelletreau, op.cit., p. 201.)  One of the troubles that the Montauk tribe encountered happened in 1653 when Narragansett Indians paddled across Long Island Sound in their war canoes to attack the Montauks.  The Montauks were celebrating the marriage of Wyandanch’s daughter, Princess Momone – the “Heather Flower” – to a Shinnecock Indian chief and were not prepared for the vicious attack that followed.  In the ensuing battle that took place in “Massacre Valley” in the hills north of Fort Pond Bay in Montauk, half the Montauk tribe, estimated to have been about 1000 Indians, were killed and Wyandance’s daughter,  the “Heather Flower,” was kidnapped and taken across the Sound.  Wyandance sought Lyon Gardiner’s help in getting his daughter back from the Narragansett Indians.

            Lyon Gardiner appealed to the “British to pressure the Narragansetts into returning the Princess Momone.  The Narragansett chief ‘Ninigret’ agreed to release the Heather Flower … in exchange for a huge pile of wampum.”  Lyon Gardiner helped Wyandance gather the required wampum.  (Barbara Marhoefer, Witches, Whales, Petticoats, and Sails, Port Washington, New York: Ira J. Friedman Division of Kennikat Press, 1971, pgs. 7-9.)  The “ransom was sent to Ninigret in Montauk war canoes” only to be intercepted by agents of John Winthrop, governor of the Connecticut colonies.”  Again Wyandanch appealed to Lyon Gardiner to intercede on his behalf and Lyon “intervened with Winthrop” who “saw to it that the wampum was delivered to Ninigret.”  (Barbara Marhoefer, op. cit., pgs. 7-9.)  The Heather Flower was finally released by Ninigret and “tradition has it that the restoration of Wyandanch’s daughter to her father … took place at “Richard Smythe’s residence at Setauket.”  (Frederick Kinsman Smith, The Family of Richard Smith of Smithtown, L.I., Smithtown, New York: Smithtown Historical Society, 1967, p. 21.)

            A grateful father and sachem then decided to give Lyon Gardiner a token of his appreciation for all that Lyon Gardiner had done for him.  At East Hampton on July 14, 1659, in a very unique deed called the “deed of friendship” that has a unique drawing of two stick figures shaking hands, Wyandanch conveyed the Nesaquake lands along the Nissequogue River to  Lyon Gardiner.  What is interesting about this particular deed is that Richard Smythe’s name appears on this document as a witness to the deed.  And four years later, Lyon Gardiner sold these very same lands to Richard Smythe.

            The question that arises is whether Richard Smythe’s interest in the Nesaquake lands was awakened by his witnessing the signing of this deed or whether “he may have had something to do with bringing about the transaction” in the first place.  (Frederick Kinsman Smith, op. cit., pg. 11.)  William Pelletreau felt that there was “little doubt but that the whole affair had been prearranged between Gardiner and Smith.”  (Pelletreau, A History of Long Island, op. cit., p. 201.)  

            So it would seem that Richard Smythe may have been the instigator of the famous “deed of friendship” between Wyandanch and Lyon Gardiner and that his interest in the whole affair was to gain title to the Nesaquake lands from Lyon Gardiner.  When the Nesaquake lands were conveyed to Richard Smythe by Lyon Gardiner in 1663, Richard Smythe set about securing undisputed possession of the land.  This was to take him the next 12 years of his life.  More about Richard Smythe’s struggle to secure the Nesaquake lands as his own next time….

“Here’s to the Bull and Richard Smythe….”

 by Bradley Harris, Smithtown Historian

Newcomers to Smithtown always ask about the statue of the bull that stands in the Head-of-the River Park.  What does the bull have to do with Smithtown?  The answer is: everything! 

For “Whisper,” as the bull is affectionately known, has become the symbol and trademark of the Town of Smithtown.  People who visit Smithtown for the first time may not recall anything else about our town but they do remember the town with a statue of a bull in it.  And rightfully they should remember “Whisper” because his statue is a constant reminder of the history of the founding of Smithtown.

“Whisper” got his name years ago when a local newspaper ran a contest for elementary school children and asked them to submit a name for the statue of Richard Smythe’s bull.  “Whisper” was chosen because he never makes a sound. 

Legend has it that “Whisper” was the bull that Richard Smythe, the patentee of Smithtown, rode on his jaunt around the boundaries of Smithtown as he staked out his claim to the land.  Although accounts of this legend vary according to the embellishment given by the teller, the most succinct is to be found in J. Lawrence Smith’s book, The History of Smithtown.  It is only appropriate that a descendant of the “bull-rider,” as Richard Smythe is known, tell the tale:

“Tradition says that he (Richard Smythe) purchased of the Indians as much land as he could ride around on a bull in a day, and, having a trained bull which he used as a horse, he started early, reached the valley between Smithtown and Huntington at noon, rested and took his lunch (thereby giving the valley the name of Bread and Cheese Hollow which it still retains), and completed the whole circuit of the township by nightfall – much to the astonishment of the natives.”

Could Richard Smythe have done this?  No one will ever know for sure and I for one would not like to debunk such a colorful legend.  Richard Smythe could have owned a bull and it is possible that he could have ridden this bull just as other colonists did in the absence of horses.  But to ride this bull a distance of some 35 miles through an untracked wilderness in one day’s time would have required a superhuman effort on the part of Richard Smythe, to say nothing of what would have been required of the bull.

 The most ardent supporters of the legendary ride look for ways in which Richard Smythe could have accomplished such a superhuman feat.  Some say that he wisely chose the longest day of the year, carefully plotted his course, trained his bull and built up his endurance, and then made his mad dash.  I think Paul Bailey, Islip’s town historian for many years, has the best explanation for how Richard Smythe managed to get his pet bull to “scout” round the boundaries of Smithtown.  This is his poem written in 1956 and entitled:

 

You’ve heard of Sheridan of course

Who rode to glory on a horse,

And Paul Revere who won renown

Galloping out of Boston town.

You’ve heard the tale of Austin Roe

Riding old Dobbin past the foe,

And many other daring deeds

Performed by heroes on their steeds, 

But only Smithtown did provide

A wild and wooly bullback ride,

And be it history or myth,

Here’s to the Bull and Richard Smith.

This Richard Smith, I understand,

Was looking for a piece of land

On which to found a sanctuary

Only for Smiths (and those they’d marry)

So on his pet bull, in riding togs

He went to see the Nissequogs

Who, being gamblers, made a bet

That he couldn’t ride his bovine pet

Twixt dawn and dark around the zone

That he had said he’d like to own. 

The prize was all the land in full,

But should he fail, they’d get the Bull.

Richard agreed, but on the side

The night before he made his ride

He marked the boundaries with a plow

Hitched to a most alluring cow

And when next day he rode the route

My how that Bull did up and scout

With Richard clinging as it went  

Hot on the trail of Bossy’s scent

O’er hill and dale, thru briny bogs,

And in pursuit the Nissequogs,

Not knowing as they ran behind

Just what was on the big Bull’s mind.

Altho the branches scratched his face

Smith didn’t try to halt his pace;

Altho the briers ripped the stitches

From out his homemade riding breeches

Smith thought but of his future town,

He cared not that his pants came down,

Nor did the Bull mind branch or bough

For he was thinking of the Cow.

You know the rest, ere sun had set

Bold Richard had won his bet

Without an arm or leg disjointed,

But my!  That Bull was disappointed.