Frank Forester Day in Warwick 



One of the Most Notable in its History 



From the Warwick Valley Dispatch of October 27th, 1920. 



To relive an event, to repicture a period, and to arouse keen 

 community enthusiasm takes perhaps the touch of genius. The 

 spirit of genius prevailed over Warwick Valley, Saturday, and 

 centered itself at Forester Square where at the cross roads a 

 beautiful boulder, enriched with a handsome bronze tablet, was 

 unveiled in honor of the memory of that great sporting writer, 

 Henry William Herbert, known as "Frank Forester," who 

 through his pen made the valley of Warwick famous in his first 

 sporting tale The Warwick Woodlands. 



Gathering at noon at Forester Square, people came flocking 

 in, keen in anticipation of the day's events with the sunniest 

 of skies smiling on them overhead, while a carpet of autumn 

 tinged leaves fell for them to tread on. In and among that 

 crowd of a thousand or more, moved old-time friends and 

 acquaintances of "Frank Forester" impersonated by the present 

 generation. There were villagers of 1830 too, who perhaps did 

 not have the honor of personal acquaintance, but were a part of 

 that period. Everywhere about pretty girls courtesied as they 

 greeted you, stately dames and gallant gentlemen benignly smiled. 



The Pageant 



The pageant was the arrival scene of Frank Forester at Ward's 

 Tavern as pictured in Warwick Woodlands and was the work 

 of Miss Genevieve Crissey. The playlet was staged on a grassy 

 knoll at the end of the tavern, facing the highway on Forester 

 Avenue, where appeared Archer, driving a spanking team, 

 accompanied by Forester, Tim Matlock and the dogs. 



The villagers crowded in to greet the arrivals, while in front of 

 the Inn was the ox team, and in the roadway the old coach and 

 victoria and high gig buggies. 



The pageant called forth howls of laughter and to our dying 

 day we shall hear that deep toned voice of Wilson as Tom Ward, 

 say: "Boys, boys, let's have a drink!" 



In front of Ward's Tavern was the old wooden horse trough, an 

 old pump and a swinging sign with an "indescribable female 

 figure." Forester described them as being there, and they all 

 reappeared. To Townsend W. Sanford, all honor for his "indes- 

 cribable female figure" and the innumerable clever posters about 

 the village for weeks ahead, advertising the day, the events and 



