Excerpts from "THE MAVERICK"
by Henry Morton Robinson
Originally Published 1933 - Historical Society of Woodstock Publications, Volume XI
The history of the Maverick is, of course, the history of Hervey White. When, as a young idealist, he enlisted under the banner of Ralph Whitehead to found Byrdcliffe, he already had a deep-rooted desire to establish an arts and crafts colony of his own. It was no disloyalty to Ralph Whitehead to entertain such a dream. This is scarcely the place to compare or contrast the two individuals who are largely responsible for the up-bubbling of art that goes on in these hills, but it can be said with perfect frankness that they were of different origins and backgrounds, separated by a whole world of economic difference, and destined, each in his own way, to work out the ideal vision he beheld. Hervey White has always been a poor man; he could not be Hervey White and be any other kind of man. It was only natural, then, when he undertook to project his own personality in the forming of a Utopian colony, that this colony should be projected, financed and forwarded on a scale less grand than the Byrdcliffe experiment.
Actually, Hervey White had to borrow a thousand dollars to gain title to the region now known as the Maverick. It was the farm of Peter Ostrander, one hundred and two acres lying on the Glenford Turnpike on the south side of Mount Ohio, at an approximate distance of two and a half miles southwest of the village of Woodstook. The farm had a single house, a substantial building that still stands; there were also cows, chickens and pigsand a mortgage. The mortgage is still unpaid, although the cows and pigs have long been supplanted by other tenants. Practically everyone in the Maverick has lived in the Ostrander farmhouse at one time or another.
The first artists on the Maverick were musicians, and the first musician to settle there was Paul Kefer. Later, Pierre Henrotte and the elder Barzin came, and there was much informal music on the Maverick during the years 1909-12. Even Hervey used to play a fiddle. Yes, according to his own story, he was quite a fiddler of barn-dance musicbut as one can imagine, this did not blend with the nobler type of chamber music that Kefer, Henrotte and Barzin made. So Hervey stepped into the background as always, and let the artists do their ensemble stuff for larger and larger groups of music-lovers. The first real concert took place in Firemen's Hall, shortly after the beginning of the World War in 1914. Under the leadership of Pierre Henrotte and the elder Leon Barzin, a concert was given by Maverick musicians for the benefit of the starving Belgians. It was a tremendous success and sowed the germ of the ensemble idea in Hervey's head. In 1916 he built the Music Hall and thus founded a home for the annual series of concerts which have shed considerable renown on Woodstock as a musical center.
Now for the oft-repeated story of the festival. Early in 1915 Hervey was forced to dig a well to supply water to the group of houses around "Birdseye." The well-drillers sunk their shafts in the ledgy mountainside, and for fifteen hundred feet encountered nothing but good tough bluestone and at the end of the drilling operation Hervey found himself faced with a bill of fifteen hundred dollars. By this time the Maverick was beginning to be valued for its contributions to Woodstock life and out of friendship for Hervey a group of artists decided to settle the well-driller's bill by putting on some kind of festive, dramatic production. This performance, destined to go down in history as the First Festival, was held in a bluestone quarry on Hervey's propertyand according to some lights was the best festival ever held. At any rate, it put off the well-drillers until the next year when there was another festival which was also a great success. Hervey thus found himself with a rather important source of income, and for fifteen years the festival gave him his principal revenue. The festival idea expanded enormously: became the only thing of its kind in America, a frankly bacchanalian rout at which most of the ordinary inhibitions were slipped off, revealing the merry-makers as something the Greeks had plenty of words for. As many as five thousand revellers sometimes cooked their camp-fire dinners, saw Hervey's show, and made the surrounding mountainside ring with the sound of their merriment into which, I am sorry to say, crept a sinister note of brawling and alcoholism. Finally, no woman's honor, or no man's teeth or nose were quite safe, and more in sorrow than in anger, Hervey was obliged to discontinue the festival in 1931.
One of the memorable post-festival sights was a line-up of creditors at his house the next day. The local groceryman, butcher, lumber-dealer and builder were on hand just as Hervey finished his morning coffee. They stood in a long line, presented their bills and Hervey paid them in spot cash. I have seen him start the day with $3500 and at nightfall he would not have a penny. He was, however, all set for another year of feeding and housing people, helping them out of tough spots, and as nearly as possible proving that his personal gain was the last thing in the world to be considered.
