The Life and Times of William Knapp
As told to his grandchildren in January 1856
My dear grandchildren, gather close to the fire, for your old
grandfather has stories to tell—stories of a long life lived
through the building of this great nation. At eighty-one years, I've
seen more changes than you might imagine possible in one lifetime.
My Early Days in Dutchess County
I was born in 1775 in what was then Dutchess County, New York, in
the same year our nation declared its independence from King George.
My earliest memories are of a world still raw from revolution, where
neighbors spoke in hushed tones about the great General Washington
and the brave men who'd fought for our freedom. The Knapp name was
well-known in those parts—there were many of us scattered
throughout southeastern New York—but like so many families of that
time, our roots run deep into soil that holds few written records.
I cannot tell you much of my own parents, for those were simpler
times when births and deaths were recorded in family Bibles that have
long since been lost to fire or flood. What I can tell you is that I
was raised to value hard work, honest dealing, and faith in the
Almighty—lessons that served me well throughout my long life.
Finding Love in New Jersey
When I was a young man of twenty-nine, I met the woman who would
become your grandmother—Sarah Cutter of Woodbridge, New Jersey. She
was born November 6, 1785, the daughter of Stephen Cutter and Tabitha
Randolph, and when I first laid eyes on her, I knew she was the one
the Lord had chosen for me. Sarah was eighteen when we wed in 1804,
and never has a man been more blessed in his choice of a wife.
Your grandmother brought grace and strength to our household. She
bore eleven children—your parents and their siblings—and raised
them all to adulthood in an age when many families lost little ones
to fever and disease. Not one of our children failed to thrive, and
all but your Aunt Catherine married and gave us the joy of
grandchildren like yourselves.
Building a Life in Newton
In the early years of our marriage, we made our home in Newton,
Sussex County, New Jersey. I was among the first settlers in this
growing town, and I take pride in having helped build the community
you know today. For many years, I served as Justice of the Peace,
settling disputes and keeping order in our growing settlement. It was
an honor to serve my neighbors in this way, though the work was often
thankless.
We lived on Spring Street, on property that Moses McCollum later
purchased. From our doorstep, I could watch Newton grow from a
handful of cabins to the thriving town it is today. I practiced the
cobbler's trade, making shoes for the good people of Sussex County.
These hands have crafted thousands of pairs of boots and shoes, each
one made with care and built to last through harsh winters and muddy
springs.
Faith and Community
Your grandmother and I were among the founding members of the
Newton Methodist Episcopal Church, though in our earliest days, we
had no proper building for worship. Many a Sunday we gathered in
barns or traveled six or seven miles to join with other believers,
carrying our faith through forests and across streams to share in
communion with our fellow Christians. Those were times that tested
our devotion, but they also brought us closer together as a community
of believers.
I've always believed that a man's faith should be matched by his
service to others, which is why I was proud to join the Harmony Mason
Lodge here in Newton. Since 1852, I've served as treasurer for our
lodge, helping to build the bonds of brotherhood that make our
community strong.
Watching Our Children Flourish
Nothing has brought me greater joy than watching your parents and
their brothers and sisters make their way in this world. Joseph, our
eldest, found his calling, though he chose not to marry. Samuel
married Delia Smith and gave us nine grandchildren before the Lord
called him home too early. Cyrus wed Catherine Terheun up in
Hackensack and blessed us with seven little ones.
Your Aunt Catherine never married, but she's been a blessing to
our family and community nonetheless. Benjamin married Susan Stewart
and gave us five grandchildren. Charles wed Susan Ludlow and moved to
Pennsylvania with two children. Hannah Maria married David Foster
right here in Newton—what a celebration that was!—and they've
given us four grandchildren.
Sarah, named for her mother, married David Auble and moved to
Newark with their six children. Young William—we called him "Little
William"—married Elizabeth Brokaw in New York City and has
four children, though he works too hard in that busy place. Manning,
our youngest son, married Anna Mattison is an attorney and lives up
in Hackensack and has two little ones. And our baby, Elsie Morford,
helps me and her mother around the house and will be a wonderful
wife.
Adventures and Misadventures
Life in a growing town has brought its share of excitement. I'll
never forget the morning in 1822 when I discovered my horse and wagon
had been stolen right from our yard—taken by a scoundrel with a
forged order! The whole town was talking about it for weeks. The
Sussex Register even wrote about it in their newspaper.
For a time, I provided shoes for A.C. Potwine's store when he went
to New York to buy goods. It was good steady work, making morocco
shoes for the town's growing population. Dr. Hedges would inspect the
medicines they sold, and I'd ensure their customers had proper
footwear—each man contributing his skills to the community's
welfare.
Reflections on a Life Well-Lived
As I sit here in the winter of 1856, looking back on more than
eight decades of life, I'm filled with gratitude for the blessings
the Almighty has bestowed upon our family. I've seen this nation grow
from thirteen colonies to a mighty republic stretching toward the
Pacific. I've watched forests become farms, settlements become towns,
and children become parents themselves.
The property I own represents not just monetary value, but the
fruits of honest labor and careful stewardship. More importantly, the
family your grandmother and I have built—eleven children, dozens of
grandchildren, and the promise of generations yet to come—this is
our true wealth.
A Grandfather's Hopes
My dear grandchildren, as your old grandfather's days on this
earth grow short, I want you to remember these things: Work hard, but
remember that true success is measured not in dollars but in the love
of family and respect of neighbors. Keep faith with the Almighty, for
He has been my guide through every trial and blessing. Treat others
with fairness and kindness, as I tried to do in my years as Justice
of the Peace.
Remember too that you are Americans, citizens of the greatest
nation on earth. You've inherited freedoms that men died to secure.
Use them wisely, and pass them on to your children even more secure
than you found them.
The Knapp name has been respected in Dutchess County, in
Woodbridge, and here in Newton. See that it remains so wherever your
lives may take you.
Your grandmother Sarah and I have lived to see miracles—the
birth of each of our children, the marriages that brought wonderful
people into our family, and the joy of watching you grandchildren
grow. We've weathered sorrows too, losing Samuel before his time. But
through it all, we've held fast to our faith and to each other.
When the Lord calls me home—and I feel that day is not far
off—I'll rest easy knowing that the Knapp family will continue to
flourish. Take care of your grandmother Sarah, honor your parents,
and remember the lessons we've tried to teach you.
The spring will come again to Newton, as it has for all my years
here. May you always find renewal in each new season, and may the
Lord bless you as richly as He has blessed this old cobbler and his
beloved Sarah.
—William Knapp, Newton, Sussex County, New
Jersey, January 1856
