Lou’s View – Feb. 6, 2014

A Township Called Chapman

by Lou Bernard

Chances are, if you’re reading this, you’ve been through Chapman Township at least once or twice. You know Chapman Township—It’s that big, foresty area along Route 120, interrupted mostly by Renovo. Up in the north part of the county.

Chapman is one of the older townships in Clinton County, and was one of the few that we inherited from Lycoming County when we were founded in 1839. Chapman Township itself was founded on February 3, 1819. Which means that not only is Clinton County turning 175, but Chapman Township has their 195th anniversary this week.

Back in the old days, by which I mean before my dad was even born, the big community in Chapman Township was Young Womanstown. Remember, Renovo hadn’t been founded yet—Renovo only came along in the mid-1800s. So Young Womanstown was the primary community, at first.

The original property was recorded as the Youngwomanstown farm, on a document signed by Benjamin Franklin. The name changed in 1862 when the railroad was being built, and called North Point, named because it was the northernmost point along that railroad line. These days, it’s known as North Bend.

So where did Young Womanstown get its name, you ask? Actually, you were really good about not asking, hypothetical reader, but I know you’re thinking it. The name comes from an old legend, or more precisely, a whole string of old legends, because this one comes in several different versions, much like those DVDs with deleted scenes and alternate endings.

Now, Young Womanstown and Young Woman’s Creek are both named after these legends, and according to John Blair Linn’s History of Centre and Clinton Counties, they were both named by the Native American tribes in that area, and then the names adopted by the settlers. Nobody is entirely sure which was named first, the creek or the town. One thing the legends all do agree upon is that there’s the body of a young woman floating around up there someplace.

“The creek is said to have received its name from the fact that the dead body of a young woman was found in it near the point where it enters the river,” wrote H.L. Dieffenbach, a long-time resident of Clinton County. He explains that one story involves the Native Americans scalping a woman, and throwing her body into the creek to cover up the act.

Another legend says that the area used to be a greatly desirable camping ground, until the ghost was installed. Isn’t that always the way? According to this one, the Indians had a young woman prisoner who was too tired to walk any farther, so they killed her and threw her body in the creek. (These stories all end about the same way.)

The area went from a prime camping spot to unwanted territory when the woman’s ghost began haunting the place. According to this legend, the ghost would drift across the creek, visible on the first night. If anyone was foolish enough to stay a second night, they would be fired upon by unseen enemies, much like staying a second night in some terrible motels.

This legend seems to connect with another one (Or maybe a different version of this one) called the Swamp Angel. I think I’ve written about the Swamp Angel before; she appears in some of the Giwoggle stories. The Swamp Angel, according to legend, was a murdered girl. Different versions of this story have her as variously Caucasian or Native American; those Chapman Township people aren’t satisfied with just one story at a time. According to this one, she still haunts the swamp in that area, and will come to help you if you walk into the swamp and ask for it.

Chapman Township has a long, involved history—I’m sure I’ll be getting around to writing more of it this year, and all the anniversaries coincide. If I run out of ideas, maybe I’ll drop by the swamp, and ask the Swamp Angel for a hand.