Born: c. 1808
Died: c. 1850, smallpox; buried in Duane Cemetery
Married: Mrs. Hatch (1801-1874)
Children: Harry
Harry B. Hatch built the Hatch hotel on a stream that became known as the Hatch Brook.
Adirondack Record-Elizabethtown Post, February 27, 1930
EARLY DAYS IN THE TOWN OF FRANKLIN
. . . Harry B. Hatch, who built a hotel at a place now known as the Hatch Place, and grandfather of Sidney and Nate Barnard, was the first supervisor of the town of Franklin. (In a recent article I referred to Sid as having acquired his political acumen, I misstated the case—he inherited it.) Mr. Hatch built a mill south of his place on Hatch brook but soon sold it to Richard L. Ross, who was an expert chemist and a gentleman of fine education, formerly of Albany. He was a drunkard and the property was soon dissipated. He had a fine library and the later years of his life were spent in Malone. Valuable books from his library were hawked about the town to get money for drink. While living at the mill Ross would ride horseback several miles north to Hiram Ayers' hotel, where be would get uproariously drunk, be put to bed, and after sobering up a bit has been known to ride back to the mill in his shirt tail with the horse on the dead run...
Chateaugay Record and Franklin County Democrat, October 6, 1933
…It was about 1830 that Harry B. Hatch and family moved into what was later the town of Franklin in Franklin county, and opened a hotel near a fine stream, since called Hatch Brook, and on the Port Kent and Hopkinton Turnpike. Later Mr. Hatch built and operated a saw mill about one half mile south of the hotel. In 1836 the town was erected from Bellmont and Mr. Hatch was the first supervisor. His was the last house in the northern part of the town which extended south through the forest for thirty miles. The story is told of a man later elected supervisor, who resided in the extreme south part of the town. One morning he started to drive to Malone to attend a session of the board. After driving steadily all day he stopped for the night. (doubtless at the Hatch Hotel) and inquiring what town he was in was thunder-struck to learn he was in his home town! At the saw mill Mr. Hatch only cut the very finest pine as the demand for lumber was slight, the nearest available shipping point being Port Kent. The railroad through Malone was not built until 1850. Saw mills were erected early on all streams in Northern New York but it is doubtful if any of the owners made money. Even as late as 1865 Sydney Paddock, of Burke, sold No. 1 Hemlock dimension stuff for $7.00 per thousand, delivered, which even at that was double the price received fifteen years before by Goodwin in Bellmont.
In Duane township there is a Studley Hill, by far the steepest grade in the county, leading to the Port Kent and Hopkinton Turnpike. As teamsters from Malone, Bangor and Moira used this road in the early days over which to haul produce to Port Kent, Mr. Hatch prevailed on the Board of Supervisors to assist in building a new road across the flat a mile east of Studley Hill. Mr. Hatch took charge and built the road but there was much bitter opposition by Duane residents and hotel keepers who knew they would lose business after the new road was constructed. The road was put through in 1849—the famous year of the discovery of gold in California—and because of the gold rush, when the name of that commonwealth was on every tongue, the road was designated "The California Road" and is still called so. On three occasions irate citizens of Duane tore out the bridges but Mr. Hatch rebuilt them until the objections gradually died out. It is not likely there are a dozen people in the county who know the reason for so naming this road. Apparently there seemed no reason for it.
Later Mr. Hatch secured a position at Clinton Prison, about 25 miles due east through the unbroken forests, the prison in the early days being designated as the "Siberia of New York." Mr. Hatch came home occasionally and his wife continued keeping hotel. On one of his visits in the winter of 1850 he was taken ill, as was his six weeks' old son Harry. It developed into smallpox not an uncommon ailment in those days. Both were violently ill and Mr. Hatch soon passed away. The roads were deep with snow and just at this time a violent three day storm descended on that territory. Mrs. Hatch had been alone during their illness, but fortunately, just in advance of the storm, a colored itinerant minister, Elder Charles Bowles, came along and offered to stay and help. A coffin had to be made and as no boards nearer than the distant mill were available the pantry shelves were taken and used for that purpose. At first the body was placed in the deep snow drifts near the door, and later, as the snow melted. was buried under a tree for six weeks until taken to the little Duane cemetery under the shadows of Debar Mountain. Mr. Hatch was only 42 years old. His wife was born in 1804 and died in 1874. Mrs. Hatch used to tell how near death the baby seemed on several occasions. Its face was a mass of sores and when it healed the skin came off all at once like a mask. The writer recalls this man's face as being badly pitted…
Mrs. Hatch soon sold out to Richard L. Ross who operated the saw mill for a few years. The latter. was an expert chemist and a gentleman of fine education, formerly of Albany. The property was dissipated, a splendid library hawked about Malone book by book, and the place went to ruin. The mill burned and the first time the writer visited that section on a fishing expedition there was a skidway of what had been handsome pine logs four feet in diameter slowly rotting away...
