From now on the Post Road is all that a country road should be. It plunges immediately into a thicket of tall weeds, Joe Pie and goldenrod mostly, which shoot up in many instances six feet above the ground. After crossing the creek the road begins the steep ascent of Gallows Hill, where Putnam hanged a British spy in spite of Sir Henry Clinton's attempts to prevent it. This summary action seems to have tempered the Red-coats' curiosity, as "Old Put" was not bothered afterward. One of a small bunch of chestnut trees west of the road where it tops the hill is pointed out as the gallows tree, although early accounts speak of a rough gallows having been erected. There is a story to the effect that one Hans Anderson, a farmer of the neighborhood, was the hangman, and that he was finally worried into his grave by the ghost of this same spy, who would not leave him in peace; but no mention is made of the tough old General having been so bothered. [Sidenote: _CONTINENTAL VILLAGE._] Continental Village lies at the northern foot of Gallows Hill. The British destroyed the stores the Americans were unable to take with them and burned the village, leaving, it is said, only one house standing, the property of a Tory. Whether this building is still standing is somewhat uncertain, though one is pointed out as such. General Sir William Howe, in his dispatches to Sir Henry Clinton, dated at Fort Montgomery, October 9, 1777, says: "Major-Gen. Tryon, who was detached this morning with Emmerick's chasseurs, fifty yagers and royal fusiliers and regiment of Trumback, with a three-pounder, to destroy the rebel settlement called the Continental village, has just returned and reported to me, that he has burned the barrack for fifteen hundred men, several store-houses and loaded wagons. I need not point out to your excellency the consequence of destroying this post, as it was the only establishment of the rebels on that part of the Highlands, and the place from whence any body of troops drew their supplies." The place was soon reoccupied by the Americans as a point at which to collect stores, and various military encampments were strung along both sides of the road from here north. [Sidenote: _POST ROAD._] For the space of some two or three miles the road is a grass-grown track through a rough country. As one proceeds he can appreciate the difficulties that beset the retreating soldiers, laden with such stores from the village as they could carry with them on the retreat. Now and then an unkept farmhouse appears, but there is little life; it is possible to walk as far as Nelson's Mill, some eight miles, without passing a team of any sort, and hardly any one on foot, but, like Goldsmith's village street the wayside is "With blossomed furze unprofitably gay."