Tag: Morris Chronicle

Early History, People, Places

Local Reminiscence

Donna Foote

by A. S. Avery

From The Morris Chronicle, 1898

Part Two*

Excerpt from Morris, New York 1773-1923 by Joyce Foote, 1970

Number 3: How Main Street looked east from the “corners” 70 years ago. Just imagine the red corner store, standing on the south corner of Main and Broad Streets, facing west, with a sign reading “L. Skidmore,” over the door. From this store, a board fence extended east about four rods; then a rail fence to where now stands the Payne tenement house (Sheldon Gallery). Here stood the Davis barn. From the barn to the church property was a rail fence. Now imagine a circular board fence in front of the church, with a double picket gate in the middle directly in front of the church door.

From the northeast corner of the church property to the corner of what is now Mrs. Steele’s lot (Gorsira) was a board fence in front of the “brick office”; from there to the oak tree (still standing) corner of Main and Hargrave Streets was a rail fence which was continued up the road for half a mile; opposite the Van Rensselaer garden were two black cherry trees. The brick office mentioned above was built by Gen. Jacob Morris for his son John C. but never occupied by him. It was a one-story house with two front rooms, divided by a hallway. An addition was built on the back side for a kitchen and bedroom and it was used as a tenant house. The lot east of the office had but recently been cleaned up, the stumps and logs yet being visible. The “mill road” went down east of the gully, and the stone building on the present corner of Hargrave and Lake Streets now occupied by Messrs. Phillips and Nichols, (Clawson) is exactly in the old road.

On the north side of the street, opposite Skidmore store, was an inn; better known as the “old red tavern.” It was a two-story building with a double piazza, and on the east end was a one-story room in which was the bar. The building stood about where the kitchen of the present hotel is; was not always used as an inn, but frequently as a tenant house. About twenty feet from the barroom was a horse shed connecting with the barn; back of the barn was a steep bank, and where Mr. Hoke’s house (Gould Benedict) and garden was an old orchard. East of this lot stood Jenny’s shoe shop (Harris), a little one-story house about 14 x 16 feet; east of this, on the site of Mrs. Thurston’s residence (Sheldon), was the Jenny house, one-story and a half high, with a basement used as a tenant house and cellar. The barn on the premises stood over the little brook just east of the Potter house (Pasternak), and the barnyard extended to the Beekman house (Gage). On this lot was a small one-story house on a high bank forming a steep descent to the road. Here Eliakim Howe lived and built his tailor shop about where the dining room of the present house is.

Colonel Van Rensselaer owned the next house (Field house site) and Samuel Somers lived in it. To this house in 1827 came James P. Kenyon to live, then a lad of five years old. The house that stands there has the same upright today. Take off the piazza and the extension to the rear; put back the old chimney with its two fireplaces and brick oven; take off the cornice and paint the building with yellow ochre, and there you have it.

The next house was an old wood-colored house (Harrington) owned by Dan Smith and sold to Asahel Avery in 1820 for $700.00, to be paid for in cattle. It had in 1825, two front doors – one half of the building was the cabinet shop. The lot was so recently cleared that there were stumps on it and a brush fence on a part of the west and north sides. The next house was occupied by Allen Holcomb (Faber). It was a small two-story house with a hall on the west side and one front room. In the rear, he had a shop for making splint bottom and Windsor chairs.

The next house was a little one-story house (Jacobsen) occupied at that time by the widow Mills – mother of Daniel Lafayette, and their brothers and sisters. The next was the two-story house built by Joshua Weaver and now occupied by P. Weeden (Keehan); there was no piazza on it. About twenty feet east of it stood his harness shop, and beyond this was his barn, about where Mr. Martindale’s house now stands (Quinton). The next, and last, house was Col. Van Rensselaer’s (Godley), built of stone and plastered on the outside. In front of this house was a white picket fence, with one large double gate and two small ones. The fence posts were locust, brought here by farmers of Windsor, Broome County, who sold them probably two posts for a yard of cotton cloth. Seven-eights of those posts are in that fence today.

Number 4: In 1827, all of the village of Morris west of the road leading to New Berlin and north of West Main Street was owned by Benajah Davis and Luther Skidmore. The Davis house, on the corner where the Kenyon house (Gage block) stands, was a two-story house, painted white on three sides and red on the north side; with a piazza in front and a seat on each side. The front fence was of pickets painted white. There was a green in the highway, and the road was about eight rods wide.

There was a dam on the brook, and the water from it was used to grind the bark and full the hides of the Davis tannery, which stood about what is now the rear of the brick buildings on Main Street. Dr. Wing had an office close to the road where now is D.I. Laurence’s lawn. On the corner of Church and Main Streets was a little old house where Luther Skidmore lived (Hobart Lull). On the east side of the brook beyond where Mrs. O. B. Matteson now lives (H. Crumb) was an old building, unoccupied at the time, called the file factory, and I have heard that once gun barrels were bored there. The chamber was sometimes occupied by a tenant.

I will give herewith a list of the families living then on what is now the present corporation. On the Main Street: V. P. Van Rensselaer, Joshua Weaver, Jas. Mills, Allen Holcomb, Asahel Avery, Samuel Somers, E. Dewey in the brick office, Eliakim Howe, Cornelius Jenny, F. Harris, Z. Roberts, Benajah Davis, Luther Skidmore, Joseph Pearsall on the present Washbon farm, Dr. Bard, Dr. Wing, John Roberts, and Jeremiah Cruttenden.

On Grove Street: Eli Waters, E. Walker, L. Moody and L. Curtis.

On Broad Street: Paschal Franchot, Mrs. Louis Franchot, J. S. Bergan, John Bard, L. Cruttenden, W. Jackson, Newel Marsh.

William Barnes lived at the grist mill. Boss Titus at Van Rensselaer’s, Milton Patrick at Avery’s, Perrin Well at Howe’s, Eunice Gregory (Mrs. Lent) at Jenny’s, Wolcott Walker at Davis’, Rufus Sanderson with Moody.

There may be one or two names left out and a year’s variation in the actual dates but it is near enough to say that there were twenty-nine houses and about 156 inhabitants.

Mr. Jackson was killed by the bursting of a 56 at a 4th of July celebration. He was living on the site of Dr. Matteson’s house. J. W. Weeden lived there later (1833) and had his leg broken while helping move the old corner store of E.C. Williams. Other casualties have happened which may be mentioned later.

These notes on olden times will probably interest some of the readers of the CHRONICLE, and perhaps a few persons may reserve them in their scrapbook. Two generations have passed away since these things happened, and I alone am left to record them.

*Editor’s note: This chapter of the book is lengthy, so I have divided it into four parts.

The previous text was taken directly from the book Morris, New York 1773-1923 by Joyce Foote, 1970. I made a few minor edits, but the content remains unchanged.

People, Places

Reminiscences of Morris – Number Seven

Donna Foote

by A. S. Avery, Morris Chronicle, October 21, 1874

In copying my manuscript for the printer, I omitted from the list of schoolmates, Selinda, Elizabeth, Acksa, and Walter Wing; Jesse Butts; Andrew G. Shaw; and no doubt there are others whom I do not call to mind.

Elm Grove was the name given to a little settlement about a mile and a half east of Louisville. A store was situated on what is now the corner where Mr. Ellis (Johnson) lives. A lane ran down to near the creek, and at the foot of the lane was Elm Grove Factory. This factory was built in 1815, by Robert L. Bowne and Co. (mill). The company consisted of the rest of the family. Here was manufactured woolen goods and satinetts. Broadcloth was made which sold for $10 the yard. All the weaving was done by hand. This company failed in 1819. The factory was afterwards owned by Samuel Starkweather and operated by ———— Greenwood. It was burned down in 1819. It was rebuilt but never did much business. Robert Bowne & Co. owned the store, and S. S. Bowne was the first clerk. This building now stands — the first house off the creek road, towards Pittsfield, beyond Van Rensselaer’s farm. William Grant, the boss clothier, lived where George Haynes now lives. Here is where Dr. Rice lived, and his son Thomas, who built a furnace and manufactured cast-iron plows. A tannery was also erected here by J.K. Lull & Sons. Today there is a large chair and cabinet manufactory owned by Geo. Benjamin (mill). Joseph Bowne lived on the Wheeler place. Silas Neff had a grocery store near where Thompson Bemiss is building a house. We give a few names of the persons who worked in the factory: Wm. Stewart, Supt., Christopher Gifford, Jesse Ayers, James Gledhill, Heman Lloyd, Richard, and Geo. Gibson, Peter Backus, — Raymond, and others.

The whole territory of Elm Grove proper was laid out into quarter and half-acre lots, and many of them sold about home and in New York City. The 3 acres of Tracy’s are 6 building lots bought of Robert L. Bowne by John Alexander. Wanton Weedon was the surveyor.

Chauncey Todd lived in a log house where Bemiss now lives; Enoch Lawrence where David Dye lives; James Tuttle where Lyman Bugby lives; Millard Aldrich where Job. Aldrich (D. Wing) lived; Greenwood lived in a small one-story house on the site of where Baldwin lives, (here is where old Sayles lived); Daniel Aldrich lived in an old house on the north side of the road nearly opposite Wheeler (Sally ) house; Ira Brooks in an old house nearly opposite Bowne’s gate.

About 70 years ago one wing of the Bowne Mansion was built. The main building was erected by Robert L. Bowne (Peter Platt, builder), in 1817. This house is today one of the largest in the country, embracing 40 rooms, some of which are very large. It is pleasantly situated on a gentle rise of ground in the Butternut Valley near the Tienuderrah River, commanding a view of the valley twenty miles in extent, from New Lisbon on the north-east to the hills of Sidney on the south-west. Fifty years ago it was owned by Geo. Shepherd, by whom it was sold about 1830 to the Loomis Brothers, who sold it to Oliver and Joseph Somers, and they sold it to Hon S, S, Bowne, and it is now owned by his two sons, Charles and John.

A framed school-house stood on the lower side of the road (Jensen) on the corner near the site of the present one. In one end was a large fire-place and the seats were made of rough slabs from the sawmill. Here many of the Lulls, Palmers, Yates, Aldrichs, Gilberts, Alexanders, Lawrences, Todds, Moores, etc. of the district graduated.

William Gilbert first settled at the outlet of a little lake in the town of Laurens. He afterwards, in 1820, moved to the farm now occupied by his son, Butler Gilbert. It was on this farm that the three towns of Pittsfield, New Berlin, and Butternuts joined, and a large butternut tree was made the corner; hence the name Butternuts. The tree was cut down, and three large trees grew from the stump; one of which is standing today. The device of the seal of the B. W. & C. Factory Co. is a stump with three sprouts.

Mr. Lull lived where Mr. Whitcomb now resides (Quite a history of the Lull family has been published). Nathaniel Moore lived where his son Nathaniel now lives. Squire Moore lived where Kirkland lives. Amos Palmer lived where Mr. Hall resides, and Dr. Yates (Latour) owned 1,000 acres adjoining on the north. The Quaker meeting-house was a double log building situated on the Bentley Farm (Cruttenden) between the old burying ground and the turnpike. The old church (Harmony, as it was called after the new stone one was built) stood on the south side of the highway, near the corner. It was used for some years by the Methodists and finally torn down. It was built by John Aiken, by what is known as the “Scribe’s rule.”

Bentley sold his farm to Judge Cathcart, and he sold it to Jeremiah Cruttenden.

The present Friends meeting-house was built by Robert L. Bowne about 1817. A road used to run on the side hill from A. G. Moore’s residence to the old church in front of the meeting-house, and the road up the hill ran on the east side of Moore’s residence. Where the factory school-house stands there used to be a large red woolen and cotton factory. Ellis Cook and John Moore commenced it and sold out to the Factory Co. This company included the name of Judge Franchot, V. P. Van Rensselaer, Benejah Davis, Uri Jackson, Dan Smith, J. C. Morris, Joseph Gilbert, A. G. Washbon, and others. The stone factory was built in 1825 and commenced business in 1826. The cotton was shipped to Catskill, and from there to the factory by horses and wagons. Asa Ames was for many years a teamster. It was not an uncommon thing to be two weeks making the round trip. Large quantities of the cloth were peddled out through the country. A factory was once built between the bridge and Mr. Rotch’s farm (V. Gregory) but the machinery never was put into it, and the floor was broken down one 4th of July, at a celebration there.

Sixty years ago, the school-house in Louisville stood near the corner beyond the bridge, in Franchot’s (Leonard’s) (Paurice) lot. The district then extended to Jared Patrick’s and Lemuel Brooks’ in the east, and to Lyman Collar’s on the west. Samuel Drew, teacher. Dan Smith lived about one mile below Louisville on the road to Gilbertsville, and for some years kept a tavern. This used to be quite a resort for persons to go and shoot at a mark. To snuff a candle 15 rods distant with a rifle ball was considered something of a shot. Deacon Jackson lived in the next house, below, and from there to Gen. Morris’ it was nearly all woods. Here we close the Reminiscences. They might be continued indefinitely, but perhaps we have already wearied the reader. Some people may think it worthwhile to cut them out and put them in a scrapbook. Fifty years from now, they may be of more value. If I have succeeded in refreshing your memory of by-gone days, — of awakening a desire to come and see the old place once more, — to renew old acquaintanceship — exchange friendly greetings, and for the time feel that we are boys again, — I am satisfied. Give us your hand — good-bye. We shall meet again.

Excerpt from Morris, New York 1773-1923 by Joyce Foote, 1970

The previous text was taken directly from the book Morris, New York 1773-1923 by Joyce Foote, 1970. I made a few minor edits, but the content remains unchanged.

Early History, People

Reminiscences of Morris – Number Six

Donna Foote

by A. S. Avery, Morris Chronicle, October 14, 1874

John Stockwell was a little old man who used to wear a long-tailed coat much too large for him. His business was making corn husk door-mats. He was very courageous when out of danger. It was amusing to hear him tell how he would mow down the enemy in case of war. Cannon was his favorite weapon, loaded with log-chains, which were to spread out as they were discharged, and mow down the enemy by thousands. He was an ardent admirer of Generals Washington and Jackson and was a little proud when called General Stockwell. He was desperately afraid of the Indians, and fifty years ago the Oneidas frequently came and encamped near the village, the squaws selling brooms and baskets. The boys tormented the General by whooping and yelling in the evening around his house, near Arries’. Upon one occasion they disguised themselves and chased him into Gifford’s house. “Hide me: hide me!” said John, “the Indians are after me.” “Where?” said Christopher. “Anywhere, quick, quick, they are after my scalp!” So Gifford picked him up and tucked him into the oven.

John Roberts was another character. He was a large man, full six feet high, an excellent mechanic (wheelwright), and possessed one of the best memories. All the details and history of the Revolutionary War; all the public events, were at his tongue’s end. He, too, like nine-tenths of the people of his day, took a little too much toddy. Here is the original of a certain story which is often requested, viz.: On a certain occasion he met Priest Hill, now in Cal., in Moore’s store. Roberts, being a little full, apologetically regretted that he had not attended meetings of late; that he felt it his duty to contribute something to the dominie’s salary; that he always thought a great deal of the Episcopalians, and that if he joined any church it would be the Episcopal, for they never meddled with politics nor religion.

Thomas Joclyn — “Uncle Tom” — was fond of his half-pint: he was not quarrelsome, but frequently drunk. In those days, men were imprisoned for debt, and upon one occasion, Tom was seized by the constable and locked up in one of the chambers of the old red tavern. The window of this room was not fastened, and beneath the window outside stood an old table, so Tom crawled out and, hanging by his hands to the window-sill, dropped himself down. The window in the room below was raised, and as his feet struck the table it tipped over throwing Tom headfirst into the room. Before he could recover from his surprise at finding himself in the house, the constable caught him again. “How came you in here?” asked the constable. “How?” said Tom; “Well I should like to know how myself; but the fact is, the house stands on a mitre.”

Allen Holcomb sometimes made coffins, and upon one occasion, a townsman called and ordered one made for his child. Holcomb charged him $2.50, and the purchaser complained of the price as exorbitant. Holcomb, being a very passionate man for a “Friend” said, “Well, when thee dies, I’ll make thy coffin for nothing, and I’ll make it out of Hemlock so thee can go through h–l snapping.”

Once upon a time, Zeba Washbon employed Jo Hawley to clear off a piece of pineland, agreeing to give him a certain sum and all the ashes he could save; informing him that white pine ashes were worth $2.00 per bushel. Jo went to work, cleared it off, and burned it over, but when he looked for his white pine ashes they were not to be found. Jo said nothing but waited his opportunity. At the proper time, Washbon got Jo to sow it to round turnips. Instead of getting turnip seed he got mustard. In due time it came up very nicely. After waiting a couple of weeks, the discovery was made that they were not turnips, and Washbon asked Hawley if he had not made a mistake in the seed. “No,” said Jo, “no mistake at all; you just sow some white pine ashes over the piece and you’ll have as nice turnips as ever you saw.”

Very few of my readers can recollect the excitement when Gen. Jackson was running the second time for President. I was then a little puny lad of nine years. The neighborhood of boys, like their fathers, were nearly equally divided into “Jackson men” and “Adams men”. I was a Jackson man.

Upon a certain occasion in that summer before election, we boys were playing on the green in front of the church, and a part of the time our sport consisted in each party trying to make more noise than the other by “hollerin” “hur-r-a-w for Jackson!” and “hur-r-a-w for Adams!” The excitement increased; hard names (as we thought) were called until it became necessary to “resort to arms!” Our reputation was at stake, our strength must be tried, our courage must be put to the test. Off went the coats and everyone was preparing for the contest. I was one of the smallest boys, and wore trousers that buttoned to my coat, and wishing to appear as big as any of them, endeavored to pull off my coat like the rest, and off it came; but down went my breeches, and there I stood with my shirt on. My ludicrous appearance caused a shout from all parties, while I was so mad I cried and gathering up as well I could, started for home.

“What is the matter, bubby?” said my mother. “Uh-uh-uh-bo-o-o, darn him,” said I, bawling as hard as I could, “Hen Holcomb called me an Adams man.”

Next week we will speak of Elm Grove.

Excerpt from Morris, New York 1773-1923 by Joyce Foote, 1970

The previous text was taken directly from the book Morris, New York 1773-1923 by Joyce Foote, 1970. I made a few minor edits, but the content remains unchanged.

Early History, People

Reminiscences of Morris – Number Five

Donna Foote

by A. S. Avery, Morris Chronicle, October 7, 1874

For the purpose of refreshing the memories of those who went to school in the new red schoolhouse from 45 to 50 years ago only, and to post the present generation about who used to go, we append a list of one hundred or more names: Leroy, George, and Maria Hitchcock; Zebulon, Caleb, Joshua, Hammond, Abagail, and Jane Weaver; Esther, Edgar, and Henry Holcomb; William, Hartson, and Asahel S. Avery; Nelson, James, Orrin, John, and Ann Dewey; Samuel and Ira Howe; Milton and Joseph Patrick; Wolcot Walker; James and Elizabeth Davis; Lucius, Dan, Addison, Henry, and Nancy Smith; Morris Cooper; Aaron, Harrison, Edmund, Lewis, Matilda, and Susannah Collar; Benjamin, Samuel, Eri, Nahum, and Eveline Draper; Anson, Henry, and Selinda Matteson; Gardner, Charles, and Edward Walker; Horace and Sally Bard; George, Charles, Russell, and Maria Williams; Richard, Charles, Maria, and Joannah Franchot; Uri, Edwin, Henry, Elizabeth, and Sarah Jackson; Nelson and Lewis Drew; John, Robert, and Mary Washbon; Nicholas Shepherd; Hopestill Cruttenden; George and Angeline Bergan; John Roberts; James P. Kenyon; Augustus Arnold; Maria, Zyphra, Julia, and Eliza Thomas; Isaac Fairchild; Jesse Butts; Charles Maxson; James and David Ackerman; Seth and Maria Ames; William, Cyrus, and Mason Gibson; William Joclyn; Lewis and Jabez Collins; Ruth, Ann, Eliza, Euphemia, and Hugh Sherman; Luther Greenman; Marcy Van Aiken; Richard and Dan Falls; Russell, Charles, Amy, and Harriet Moore; Isaac Wade; Oliver and Ruth Ann Curtis; Brown and Nathan Sayles; Geo. L. Bowne; Benjamin Simmons; Sayles Marsh; Charles Griffin.

And by coming down two or three years later, we will add Henry R. and Nancy Washbon; John and James Cope; Wm. P. Card; E.L. and William Payne; William and Edward Bowne; Eliza Bergan; Peleg, Charlot, Mary Ann, and German Weeden; William and Dennis Arnold; John Jay and Emeline Thomas, and others.

By going back five years earlier (1820) we add Mary and Augusta Wheeler; Stephen Walker; Nathan, Oliver, Paschal, and Jonathan Lull; Jonah and John Davis; Lyman, William, and Sally Cruttenden; Orrin and Chauncy Moore; Louise Franchot; Merlin and John Jackson; Jesse and Edwin Smith; George Holcomb; Russell Skidmore.

The names of some of the “Masters” were Richardson, Fellows, Aiken, Jackson, Vermelia, Ladd, Newland; and Mistresses Irean Wade, Eddy Youngs.

Out of this entire list, I don’t know of one who has been in jail or prison. The most studious scholars have turned out the most successful, with few exceptions, where strong drink has been their ruin. Six were lawyers, two physicians, and two are ministers.

Every one in the above list who may read this, will no doubt be gratified for the effort we have made to preserve this bit of history of “our boyhood days”; but to each individual named, there is a volume of history which never will be written. Between this and now, five hundred children have come and gone, and the next ten years will add another hundred to the list. A beggar’s dozen is all that is left in town of those who went to school here “five and forty years ago”.

Every village can generally boast of one or more eccentric or noted characters – a certain Deacon A., Squire B., or Col. C. In and about Louisville there were several, and it may not be inappropriate to record some of their “sayings and doings.” And we hope no one will take exceptions to them; for they are recorded now, as they were told then – to amuse the crowd. And we have no doubt but the individuals if present, would laugh over them again as heartily as they did at the time.

Cornelius Jenne, the shoemaker, was always loaded with stories. In early life he was a sailor, and who ever knew a sailor that could not “spin a yarn.” He had his by-words and hearty laugh, and it is impossible to record his stories and give them the peculiar phase of humor with which they were received when told by himself. He had an excellent memory. Could give you the names of his personages, and the particular date in which the thing occurred, and he always commenced them with something like the following – “Six and thirty years ago, the 19th day of last July, if I am not mistakened, and by-gud I don’t think I be, down on the eastern short of Maryland, the sailors caught a mud-turtle and put a barrel of salt on his back, and he walked off tip-toe, but when he came to a little hillock it brought him down flat-foot, by-gud – ha-ha-ha!” “It was five and forty years ago, the 11th day of next November if I am not mistakened, and by-gud I don’t this I be, my great-grandfather killed a white bear on the island of New Zealand that weighed two tons, by-gud.” “Down on the eastern shore of Maryland they used to raise 250 bushels of shell corn to the acre. That’s the place to raise corn, b-y-e-g-a-d! ha-ha-ha!” “When I first came into this part of the country, they used to say Cornelius Jenne and John Aikens; but now it’s “Square Aikens and Old Jenne, be-gud-ha-ha-ha!” “In 1803, that was five and thirty years ago, on the 27th day of last April, in the city of Charleston, I saw a sow with twenty-four pigs following her through the streets. I was there thirteen years afterwards and saw the same old sow with sixteen pigs, and by-gud I don’t know but she’s breeding yet — ha-ha-ha! b-y-e-gud!”

Excerpt from Morris, New York 1773-1923 by Joyce Foote, 1970

The previous text was taken directly from the book Morris, New York 1773-1923 by Joyce Foote, 1970. I made a few minor edits, but the content remains unchanged.