As town and village historian, I get a lot of inquiries from people tracing their ancestors. An interesting question was posed to me last week: A woman from Buffalo was tracing her Indian ancestry and has been told she was related to a Sabattis family. Was the settlement mentioned in the recent Transitions column named after a person named Sabattis? If so, could I tell her more about that individual and also more about the fire that consumed the settlement?

Sabattis had originally been named Long Lake West. It was the station for the railroad that operated there until as recently as April 1965. It was renamed Sabattis in 1923 when a post office was established there. It was indeed named after Mitchell Sabattis, who lived in Long Lake and was an outstanding woodsman and guide. He became a pillar of the Long Lake community and a highly religious man. He often preached in the Wesleyan Methodist Church and was given credit for raising most of the funds to build that structure.

I found it interesting that the caller pronounced Sabattis as SAW BAH TEASE. I politely suggested to her that locally it was pronounced SA BAT IS. She replied that SAW BAH TEASE was the way the genealogy authority at the library pronounced it. Almost the very next day I ran into Jim Meehan, manager of the historic photography collection (over 65,000 images) at the Adirondack Museum. Jim told me the following: “Sabattis is the common corruption of Jean (John) Baptiste, as Jean appears as an S (San) in most of the Northern Algonquin.” That also explains why I once couldn’t locate Saint Germain Pond near Lake Clear until a local aid, “Oh! You mean SAN GER MAW Pond!” Another such corruption is Santanoni Mt., which was originally named Saint Anthony.

Mitchell Sabattis was the son of Peter Sabattis, a full-blooded Indian of the Huron Tribe. His Indian name was Pierjon. This fine woodsman lived to be 106 years old and kept a record of his later years on a notched stick that he always carried with him. Captain Peter (he had fought in the Revolutionary War) always claimed that he never slept in a white man’s bed. He would accept all other hospitality, but when night came, if the weather was mild he would sleep out of doors. In the cold he would lie down in front of the kitchen stove with a log of wood for a pillow.

Captain Peter was no stranger to Tupper Lake and its surrounding forests and rivers. There is a huge rock or monolith located just downstream of Underwood Bridge known as Captain Peter’s rock. It is said he kept his traps hidden there. Three miles below Piercefield on our same Racquette River is an island over a mile wide known as Sols Island, named after Solomon, another of Peter’s sons, who was reputed to have been born there.

Historians have concluded that Mitchell Sabattis (descendants still live in Long Lake) was “exceptional both in traits of character as well as exceptional gifts of woodcraft.” It has been further noted that “these woods will never look upon his like again.” The woman from Buffalo tracing her ancestry can be very proud of Captain Pierjon and his son, Indian chief Mitchell Sabattis.

The fire that totally destroyed the hamlet of Sabattis occurred on Sept. 26, 1908. It had been a dry summer and the worst of the drought occurred after the leaves had fallen. A fall drought poses the most danger for fire as both soil and fallen leaves can be dry as tinder. The inevitable happened when a passing wood-burning train threw out sparks that produced an inferno, quickly spread by strong winds. Sabattis was in the path of this terrifying, uncontrollable blaze. The settlement contained a dozen dwellings, railroad station, a large hotel, a store and storehouses, a new electric light plant, a livery with 200 horses and a large lumber yard. Every structure was consumed. The horses had been turned loose, finding safety in flight before the flames reached the village. The residents escaped on a train sent from Tupper Lake to rescue them. Soon after the train had left, its caboose caught on fire, with 1,500 pounds of dynamite used for blasting catching fire and detonating. The explosion was distinctly heard at Nehasane, eight miles to the south. Today only a battered state memorial sign remains where there was once a thriving settlement.