Myths and Legends of Our Own Land — Volume 01: the Hudson and its hills — Reading Companion

Opening with a Curse: The Deformed of Zoar

The first excerpt, 'The Deformed of Zoar,' establishes a pattern that recurs throughout the volume. Skinner begins with a precise setting: 'The valley of Zoar, in western New York, is so surrounded by hills that its discoverers—a religious people, who gave it a name from Scripture—said, "This is Zoar; it is impregnable."' This geographical and historical framing is typical. The tale then recounts a brutal murder: a peddler is killed by the Wright family after they mutilate him to force a confession. The dying man's curse—that the family would bear 'the mark of crime even to the fourth generation'—is presented as the origin of the 'crab-clawed Zoarites.' Skinner does not vouch for the curse's efficacy; he reports it as local belief. The narrative is stark, with graphic details: 'six toes were cut off,—three from each foot.' This bluntness suggests that Skinner aims to preserve the raw texture of oral tradition rather than polish it into polite fiction.

Historical Anchors: Horseheads and Sullivan's Campaign

The second excerpt, 'Horseheads,' shifts from supernatural horror to historical anecdote. Skinner explains how the village of Horseheads, New York, got its name: during General Sullivan's 1779 campaign against the Iroquois, horses were killed and their skulls later piled by Indians, which white settlers found and commemorated. Skinner writes, 'When the Indians ventured back into this region, some of them piled the skulls of the horses into heaps, and these curious monuments were found by white settlers.' The tone is reportorial, and the story lacks a ghost or curse. This juxtaposition—a tale of pure historical origin next to a supernatural legend—illustrates the volume's range. Skinner treats both types with similar gravity, implying that local names and landmarks often carry stories that blend fact and folklore. Readers should note how Skinner uses place names as entry points: the name 'Horseheads' itself becomes a puzzle that the story solves.

Structural Patterns: From Place to Tale

Across the excerpts, a consistent structure emerges: Skinner introduces a place, often with a brief geographical or historical note, then recounts a legend associated with it. For instance, 'The Deformed of Zoar' opens with the valley's name and isolation; 'Horseheads' begins with a controversy over renaming the village. This pattern suggests that the volume is organized as a series of local lore entries, each anchored to a specific location. The table of contents confirms this: titles like 'Rip Van Winkle,' 'Catskill Gnomes,' and 'The Catskill Witch' indicate a focus on the Hudson Valley and its hills, as the subtitle promises. Readers can use this structure to navigate: each section is self-contained, allowing for dipping in and out. Skinner's voice is consistent—plain, slightly archaic, and devoid of overt moralizing—which unifies the diverse tales.

The Role of Violence and the Supernatural

Violence is a recurring element in the excerpts. In 'The Deformed of Zoar,' the murder is described with clinical precision: 'with hatchet and knife they chopped away his fingers.' In 'Horseheads,' the killing of horses is a military necessity, but the image of skulls piled by Indians carries its own grimness. Skinner does not sensationalize; he presents these events as matter-of-fact components of the legends. The supernatural, when it appears, is often a consequence of human cruelty—a curse, a ghost, or a deformity. This pattern suggests that Skinner's folklore is not whimsical but rooted in the harsh realities of colonial and frontier life. Readers should pay attention to how the supernatural elements serve as explanations for natural phenomena or historical events, such as the deformed births in Zoar. The line between history and legend is deliberately blurred, inviting readers to consider how communities make sense of tragedy through story.

Skinner's volume rewards readers who approach it as a collection of local histories as much as folklore. The excerpts show that each tale is tied to a specific place and often to a historical event, such as Sullivan's campaign or the settlement of Zoar. Rather than seeking a unified narrative, readers might best enjoy these stories by focusing on the details of setting and the way Skinner lets the legends speak for themselves. The volume's structure—short, independent entries—makes it ideal for browsing, and the cumulative effect is a mosaic of American regional identity, where the Hudson Valley becomes a landscape haunted by its own past.