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BIOGRAPHICAL

Giles Foster was the son of Timothy Foster, a Puritan who could trace his descent back generations to Lord Foster of Suffolkshire, England. "Grandfer Tim," who died in 1814, aged 96, served in the French and Indian wars in New England before the Revolution, and also through the Revolutionary war; a man of nerve and courage. When a young man a skulking Indian killed his brother while he was feeding the cattle in the barnyard. "Granfer Tim" said "Blood!" (a favorite expression). "I took my gun and followed that Indian till I saw a bullet-hole through him." On an expedition to the north in winter, the company to which he belonged were reduced to starvation, eating their dogs, horses, and even leather, at the same time suffering from extreme cold. An old friend and neighbor of "Granfer Tim" gave out and declared he would go no further, and sat down to die. "Blood!" said Grandfer, "I cut me a handful of switches and went at him and warmed his jacket for him till his blood boiled." His friend in after years often thanked him for saving his life.

In the Revolutionary war the common soldiers often suffered for food. One day Grandfer Tim was passing an oven where bread was baked for officers. The baker set his loaves on a table and turned to his oven. The temptation was too great for a hungry man, and seizing a loaf Grandfer Tim tucked it under his coat, and kept on his way. Presently a guard overhauled him and asked if he had seen a man with a loaf of bread? The reply was, yes, just gone along; pull on, you dog, and you'll catch him. "Blood!" said the old man, "the bread burnt like thunder, but I got away with it."

The old man was pious and devout as well as patriotic. On one occasion, our father, then a boy, was staying with his grandfather. The old gentleman was engaged in family prayer when a hog got into the woodshed and turned over the swill-tub. He called out, "Isaac, drive out that devilish old sow you have, son," and went on with his prayer. About 1800, Giles Foster removed from Connecticut to New York, Black River country and took Grandfer Tim with him, an active old man. The Indians, although friendly, were very troublesome. One day a drunken Indian came in and lay down on the hearth where the women were cooking. Father, then a young man, came in and ordered him to get up. "Me

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kill you,' was the only reply. Father seized him and as he went out of the door, caught a rawhide and gave him a whipping. Grandfer Tim hearing the row came out and commenced belaboring him with his cane. When reminded of his age and advised to keep clear he exclaimed, "Blood! I never saw that Indian yet I was afraid of!" When eighty years old he would handle a vicious colt by seizing it by the hamstring crying: "Blood, now kick!" the horse standing and trembling. He would also cross the room by laying hold of the joist and going hand over hand suspended. Such was the strength and endurance of an octogenarian.

Giles Foster, our grandfather, was also in the Revolutionary war. When 16 years old he was in the service of an officer, for which he received a pension until his death, which occurred in 1843, at an advanced age of seventy-six.

Isaac Foster received an education at Lowville Academy, and studied law intending to follow the profession, but in the war of 1812 he engaged in merchandise in Sackett's Harbor. While occupied with his own affairs with a team, he was impressed into the United States service for a time, for which he was entitled to a pension, but never prosecuted his claim. In 1812 he married Grace Parsons, daughter of the Rev. Stephen Parsons, founder of many of the Baptist churches of New York; also a Revolutionary soldier. By this marriage there were seven children, five of whom survived him. For some time after his marriage, being an expert penman, he taught writing school, practiced law, and engaged in other business. Among other things he owned a distillery for the manufacture of whiskey, but early becoming convinced of the iniquity of the business he abandoned it, together with the use of tobacco, and the remainder of his life was teetotally temperate; was president of the first temperance society in the county where he lived-Lewis county, New York. About 1825 he was converted, and at once gave up his law business to become a preacher of the gospel. He was also a co-laborer with Garrett Smith, Arthur Tappan, and William Lloyd Garrison in the anti-slavery cause. For several years he was settled as pastor of the Presbyterian church in Leyden, New York, and also supplied other churches. In 1837 he accepted a commission from the Presbyterian Board of Home Missions as a missionary to Illinois. Chicago was then city of 500 inhabitants. He settled in Plainfield, about thirtyfive miles south of Chicago. After some years he gave up his commission and engaged in farming. In 1849 he crossed the

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continent with an ox team, returning home next year by water. In 1852 he recrossed with his family, employing horse and mule teams, and settled for life in San Jose, Cal., where he was for some years City Judge in place of a Mayor. He and his wife were members of the first Presbyterian church. His wife died in San Jose, August 12th, 1859, of dropsy. He also died of dropsy, in San Francisco, at the residence of his daughter Mrs. Cummings, July 6th, 1868, in the 78th year of his age. They are buried in Oak Hill Cemetery, San Jose. Their memorial is in the hearts of their children. "Requiescat in pace.

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JULIET FOSTER OLMSTED.

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