Notes & Queries

by Wm. H. Egle

Vol. I 4th series 1770/1893

Page 171-172

French Jacob

Millersburg is built upon a plateau of land eighty or one hundred feet above the Susquehanna river. The site is underlaid by hard slate rock, a fact which has enabled that little town of Lykens Valley land to jut out square upon the river, and from time immemorial to resist floods and washings. Six hundred yards wide by twelve hundred long it is the best town site above Harrisburg. The Wisconisco creek skirts its southern border, whilst Spring branch does like duty for the southern. Spring branch is headed by two springs, cast and back of Oakdale cemetery, and is thought to furnish exceptionally good water.

The Mornvian Bishop, Cammerhoff, in his journal(1748) states, that passing from Bethlehem to Shamokin, be found so setiled place or habitation between Fort Hunter and McKee's(Georgetown). It is not known at what time a trading house was built on Spring branch, nor who built it. It is only that in that last century sixties, that here was the home of Jacob Beauchamp, known as French Jacob.

Although the name French Jacob is familiar to old residents of Millersburg, none, so far as I know after enquiry, could give any connected account of the man, where he lived, his occupation or history. The question occurs here, how did it happen that the name of a man who left no landmark behind and disappeared from the Valley a hundred and twenty years ago should be retained to this day? It is the purpose of this paper to explain that conundrum, so far as a puzzle can be explained.

As to his origin or birth place we have no knowledge. In the absence of data conjecture is allowable, based upon the little we know of his character and history. His forefathers were probably Gascon-French; driven by persecution, they found refuge, like other Huguenots, with the friendly Holinders, where our Indian trader, we will suppose, was born, and took for a name the Teutonic Jacob, instead of the French Jacques,(Anghee-James). It is stated that he moved from Lancaster, brought with him a wife, a sister, and a Negro slave. It appears that he had a warrant for the land reaching from head of Spring branch to the river, including the island adjoining, land which belonged to the estate of the late Jacob Seal. It is uncertain whether the warrant took in the town site or not. As the story goes he and his wife once made a business visit to Lancaster, leaving the girl and the Negro to plant corn on the island. On their return they met the Negro on the road. On close questioning he confessed to having murdered the girl and burying her in the sand. He was handed over to the authorities and hanged in due time. I had this incident from my old friend O.J.Campbell, of Millersburg, one of its honored octogenarians.

French Jacob had a personality peculiar to himself; perhaps his Gascon blend may have asserted itself, or the opportunities, which to this day new settlements afford for romance and personal exaggeration-one of those artistic monumental liars with whom you will seldom meet more than once in a lifetime. With an appreciative audience he filled the Hudibras description. "He knew whatever was to be known, and much more than he knew he'd own".

He proposed to a knowledge of the occult sciences, whatever that may, he could charm the festive rattler and wave the intrusive bear back with his hand; could cure all diseases with words, blow out the fire from burns and scalds and stop flowing blood. A great wizard, a mighty Hex! All witches held him in terror. Like his friend and contemporary, Dr. Deininger, of the Lebanon Valley, he could, as he stated, by simple reading his witch book-Nostradamus-transform little boys or bigger ones, too, if he so pleased into sheep heads, black cats or black dogs.

A farmer named Rush, living three miles east of Millersburg, once informed me-fifty-five years ago-that his forefathers had come to the valley at a very early day; that once upon a time a great fire came down Berry's Mountain, leaped the creek and set the country in a blaze. French Jacob happened to be in the neighborhood and joined the people in their efforts to stop the fire. They exhausted themselves in vain, and sat down to rest. French Jacob produced his pipe, went forward to the fire and with a burning branch lit his tobacco, the making a mark with it upon a log, announced that the fire would stop there, and so sat down beside it. He would not permit the men to work any more lest it might break the spell and that fire, added my informant, did not dare to come any farther.

The Wisconisco creek for a few miles above Millersburg skirts the mountain. But on its way to the river sheers off to the right and strikes the southeast corner of the town. At this point is a gravel and sand beach, with a few good-sized boulders on the shore and in the channel. In the long ago this was a favorite place for washing clothes, the boulders serving as stools for the wrung out garments, prepared for the line. It was here that Mr. Beauchamp had one of his remarkable adventures, as was detailed to me by one of Mr. Rush's neighbors, whom name I cannot this moment recall. Jacob had turned out his horses one evening to graze and next morning taking his gun he went out to look for them as a matter of course, but under the difficulties of the dense fog. Passing up along the creek in his search, he reached this particular bend and the place being open, he halted to look and listen. At that moment he was fired upon by a party of Indians from the opposite side. Fortunately he was not hit and although his peril was great, his resources were equal to the situation. Whether it was that he possessed the ring of Gyges, or the tarn-cap of Forner, is not known but by means of one or the other _____________________________________________________________________

________________hind this barrier he preceded to shoot down his opponents with profound deliberation. The muzzle-loader is a slow weapon, and by the time he had four or five disposed of, the balance, seeing no enemy, and believing that they had met the devil, went into panic and fled. Jacob was a utilitarian, he drove his hogs to the place and thus disposed of the dead bodies to the best advantage. Ghosts were supposed to haunt this place when I knew it. No wonder the fight wasn't fair nor square, and those dusky spectres or spooks unsatisfied, may still be hunting for the invisible slayer. An old lady named Sandoe, living in a tumbledown shanty nearby, assured me in a most emphatic manner that she had seen one of these ghosts several times.

The narrator of the foregoing further stated, that Jacob possessed a silver mine on Berry's mountain; that this mine was guarded by a spell, and that he himself could open it only at certain phases of the moon. When he needed money and the sign was right he would pronounce over it an open sesame, go in, take out a bar, and then by the same token close it up. My friend stated that he had looked for that mine himself, but, as he said, it was no use; no man could ever find it, because it was guarded by a spell.

What was his success as an Indian trader is at this point uncertain. The Indians lived to the north and McKee's was nine miles above him, where, on account of his half breed family, that famous trader had the sway. When he left Spring branch is not known. In the history of Buffalo Valley his name appears on the tax lists of 1773. It seems that he joined in the great Runaway of the later year. With other fugitives he returned built a mill, resumed his Indian trading business and lived there till 1790.

On the old tax lists his name is always spelt phonetically, sometimes Groshong, sometimes Bushon. As if the writers were in doubt, they frequently added brackets{French Jacob}. When he left the Buffalo Valley he struck out West and said he did not known where he would stop. Probably Kentucky, became the resting place of his old age; some forty years afterwards the name Beauchamp figured as principal in a very sensational murder trail in that state, terminating with conviction and suicide. H>R>

JACOB GROSHONG #51