GIDEON PUTNAM, the grandfather of Mrs. Dr. R.L. Allen, and of the late Washington, Rockwell, and Lewis Putnam, was the son of Rufus and Mary Putnam, and was born in the town of Sutton, Mass., in 1764. Purchasing his majority of his father for one hundred dollars, and marrying a Miss Risley of Hartford, Conn., he at once set out to seek his fortune – his only means of support being a strong arm and a determined will. Reaching Middlebury, Vt., he halted, and in a primeval wilderness erected a log-cabin. {The site of this cabin is now occupied by the Middlebury College buildings.} This cabin was built around a white-oak stump, squared upon the top, and which served as a table. The cabin was without a chimney; the seats of three logs of wood; and the entire household furniture of the young couple consisted of three tea-cups and saucers, three plates, three knives and forks, a kettle, an earthen tea-pot, and a spider! There was a grist-mill forty miles from them, but a dense forest lay between, "blazed" trees alone pointing out the way. In this dilemma they cut out the top of the stump, and with a wooden pestle fitted to the excavation ground their grain. At length, not finding this situation quite to their minds, they removed to Rutland, Vt., and while here their eldest son, Benjamin, was born. From Rutland they removed to the "Five Nations," or "Bemis Flats," where they were joined by Dr. Clement Blakesley and his wife, who was a sister of Mrs. Putnam. The lay of the country, the quality of the soil, and the appearance of the timber suited him; and he immediately put up a log-house, which was occupied by the two families. But the elements were against him, and proved more than a match even for Putnam’s indomitable energy. A terrific rain-storm, falling in the middle of the night, flooded the surrounding country, and drove the hardy pioneers, with their wives and children, on to their beds and furniture out of reach of the water, which covered the cabin floor. Without, as far as they could see, was one vast sheet of water. In this condition was this bold, vigorous, and determined man caged, and unable to extricate either himself or his household. But fortune had not deserted them; for in the midst of this seeming helplessness – while naught was around them save the roaring waters and the "blackness of darkness" – a kind neighbor, by the name of Zophar Scidmore, living on the east shore of the Lake, on the present "Cleveland Place," came to their rescue with his sail-boat and a light canoe in tow. On nearing the cabin he fastened the sail-boat to some flood-wood which they piled upon the bank, rowed his canoe up to the door of the cabin, and conveyed Mrs. Putnam and her young child to his sail-boat. Scidmore then took Mrs. Putnam and the child and conveyed them to his own house. After safely disposing of his passengers, he returned to the flood-wood, whither during his absence the remainder of the family had been conveyed in the canoe by Putnam. Reloading his little craft with Mrs. Blakesley and the other child, he returned to his house, and in the course of the day rescued the whole family, and lodged them safely beneath his hospitable roof. This calamity induced Putnam to abandon his improvements at Bemis Flats. Accordingly, after the storm was over, he, with his family, and in company with Dr. and Mrs. Blakesley, left the house of his benefactor, and entered on an Indian trail, which he followed to the Springs, then scarcely known. This occurred in 1789. On arriving at what is now the village of Saratoga Springs, he selected a piece of land near a fresh-water spring, where he built a log-cabin. This land is now owned by Mr. William H. Clement, whose stone house, in the western part of the village, stands a few rods east of the site of Putnam’s primitive residence.

On reviewing his position at Saratoga, Putnam said to his wife: "This is a healthy place; the mineral springs are valuable, and the timber is good and in great abundance, and I can build me a great house ," a desire which had haunted him from childhood. He at once leased three hundred acres of land, girdled the trees about him, put in crops, and when he could not work upon the farm he employed himself in making staves and shingles, which he carried to the Hudson River, at the mouth of Fish Creek. The ensuing spring he put them in a raft, and floated them to New York City, where he met with a ready sale and returned with means to build a saw-mill. On his arrival home he found a new neighbor, by the name of William Patchen, a wheelwright by trade, with whose help he soon had his mill in successful operation. This mill was northwest from his house, and the pond belonging to it has been known to many generations of boys of the village by the name of "Put’s Pond," and has been a favorite swimming-place ever since. The next spring, Putnam’s sawed lumber, together with his staves and shingles, which he took to New York, brought him a handsome sum for his year’s labor. With the funds he thus obtained, he clothed himself and family, provided himself with a great variety of necessaries, and brought home besides a peck-measure of silver coin in an old-fashioned pair of saddle-bags, with which money he paid for the three hundred acres of land he had previously held by a lease. But his new garments had so changed his personal appearance that his wife did not know him on his return. One fancy article, brought back with him, was a new silk umbrella, which his eldest daughter sported on the next Sunday. Near the saw-mill pond was the "Indian Joe Field," which had been cleared and cultivated by the Indians. Some of the herbs now growing there are said to have been originally planted by the Indians. {A few rods north of President Allen’s house on the Bryan farm, near the old "Pest House," there is yet standing an old orchard (called to this day "The Indian Orchard"), planted by the Mohawks about 1776.}

This sign used to afford much mirth for the wits of the day, one of whom – the editor of the Literary Picture Gallery , published at Ballston in 1808 – writes as follows: "The celebrated painting of Putnam and the Wolf, of Saratoga, has of late been a subject of animated discussion between an American artist of high celebrity, and a travelled gentleman of New York well known for his exquisite taste in the fine arts. The connoisseur contends that this admirable piece, exhibiting all the terrible graces of Salvator Rosa, must be the production of some Italian artist of the seventeenth century, and consequently can have no allusion to any adventure of the American hero whose name is inscribed on the picture. Colonel T-----, on the contrary, maintains that it is evident from the internal marks that the artist can be no other than the illustrious Vander Daub, who came over to this country in the suite of the Dutch Ambassador soon after the Peace. Who shall decide where doctors disagree?" {For this anecdote I am indebted to Mr. C.C. Dawson, who furnished it to me in his letter printed in Appendix I. of this work.}