Monthly Archives: December 2019

Running the Rivers: Old-Time Arks and Arkmen

“To run the rivers on the freshets was the universal ambition of all the younger men for the first half of the present century in Steuben.” (Clark Bell, 1893)

In the late 1700s our area was hard to get to, and almost impossible to ship stuff out of… until Charles Williamson and others got the rivers cleared, and built 75-foot “arks” to carry the region’s produce. They started as far up as Bath (on the Conhocton), Bradford (on Mud Creek), or Arkport (on the Canisteo), then used the current to make their way to the Chemung, then the Susquehanna, and finally Chesapeake Bay and the markets of Baltimore.

George McClure (working for Williamson) built perhaps the first ark, and made the first experimental voyage, laden with lumber, staves, and wooden pipe. It took a half hour to get five miles from Bath, where they grounded… then about six days to get from there to Painted Post, where they waited another four or five days for the river to rise. “We made a fresh start, and in four days ran 200 miles.” Aiming for Baltimore, he got grounded near Harrisburg and negotiated a decent deal for his cargo there, having established that the thing could be done.

Joel Pratt (for whom Prattsburgh was named) cleared 110 acres four miles west of Pleasant Valley. The following year he hired men from Bath and Pleasant Valley to cut his wheat with sickles. They threshed that winter with flails, then took the wheat to Bath by ox team and sent it out on the high spring waters of 1802. Captain Pratt finally came back from Baltimore on foot, with nearly $8,000 in his pocket.

Doing business in Bath and Dansville with his brother Charles, McClure took in 4000 bushels of wheat and 200 barrels of pork. He built four arks at Arkport, and these may have been the first to navigate the Canisteo, running all the way down to Baltimore. One winter he built eight arks at Bath and four on the Canisteo, shipping flour to Baltimore and wheat to Columbia, Pennsylvania. “The river was in fine order and he made a prosperous voyage and a profitable sale. His next project was to build a schooner on Crooked Lake.”

He also bought fur, pelts, and deer hams, shipping them downriver. One year he boarded 40 head of “the best and largest cattle” onto arks, shipped them to Columbia, and drove them overland to Philadelphia, “where they sold to good advantage.”

The list of entrepreneurs who ran their arks downriver is a list of many of the region’s founding fathers: the McClure brothers, Charles Williamson of Bath, Frederick Barthles of Bradford, Benjamin Patterson of Painted Post, Joel Pratt and Jacob Van Valkenberg of Prattsburgh, Ira Davenport of Hornellsville, Christopher Hurlbut of Arkport, John Arnot of Elmira, and General Wadsworth of Geneseo all made fortunes in the arking traffic.

Bath in particular boomed, and warehouses bulged on Ark Street, but it crashed to an end when the Erie Canal opened in 1825. According to Ansel McCall, “The ark of the Conhocton passed into history; the rats took possession of the storehouses; the roofs caved in; the beams rotted away, and what was left of them tumbled into ruins.”

For decades to come lumber rafts in hundreds still made their way downstream to salt water. And the new canal system, while crippling Bath, was the making of Penn Yan and Hammondsport. Both of those are stories for another time. But join us at 4 PM Friday, January 3 in Bath Fire Hall, when I’ll kick off our 2020 Winter Lecture Series with a free presentation on the old-time days of lumber rafts and river arks.

Christmas is What You Make It

Ah, Christmas! I love it. I love the spiritual side of it, honoring the coming of Jesus. And I love the festive side, with its pre-Christian symbology, AND the modern-day incarnations of Santa Claus, classic movies, and polar bears drinking Coke.

But despite all the angry demands for a Christian Christmas, for centuries Christians never gave a thought to such a thing. Early Christians had no such observance, and seemed supremely uninterested in the geographical scenes of the Nativity.

This started to change when the Emperor Constantine’s mother saw visons telling her where the manger had stood, and where Gabriel appeared to Mary, and so on. Considering three centuries had gone by, and the country had been destroyed, depopulated, and repopulated twice, and that nobody before her seemed to care where those sites were anyhow, she couldn’t have done it WITHOUT a vision (or at least an optimistic imagination).

When Christians finally DID create Christmas, they borrowed shamelessly from pagan celebrations (holly, evergreens, candles, gifts), and set it at the darkest time of the year, RATHER THAN the time when shepherds had been abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night.

Despite what we often hear, America was not founded as a Christian country, and those new Americans who were MOST Christian despised Christmas as an unbiblical, pagan-based occasion for excess. In the Puritan colonies, Christmas was a crime. In Plymouth the Pilgrims didn’t criminalize it, they simply treated it (and its practitioners) with contempt.

In the 1700s and early 1800s, Christmas was a time when gangs of teenagers, sailors, and slaves were allowed to force their way into people’s homes to demand food, drink, and money.

Christmas in some form presumably trickled into our area when the first whites muscled in in the 1790s, but Christmas in America was mainly celebrated by German-speakers, and often overlooked by the English. It seems likely that the first Christmas tree in Steuben County went up in Dansville, Cohocton, or Wayland, where many German speakers lived. Contemporary newspapers often overlooked it, or gave it only the briefest attention.

“A Visit from St. Nicholas” captured the imagination once it was published in 1823. Queen Victoria’s German husband brought in Christmas customs wholesale after their marriage in 1839, and the thing became stylish. Dickens sealed the deal with A Christmas Carol in 1843. Letters show that many folks were celebrating, at least in a small way (and especially aimed at children), during the Civil War. Cartoonist Thomas Nast created Santa Claus as we know him, complete with his huge living, manufacturing, and distribution complex at the North Pole.

So Christmas was part of the local scene by the late 1800s, although for most people it was still a regular work day well into the 20th century. In 1901 the Hammondsport weekly newspaper started running Christmas ads the day before Thanksgiving, and the holiday was already thoroughly commercialized. Toys and children’s gifts were touted, but so were shoes, ranges, and buggy whips. (“Santa Claus is a practical old fellow.”)

In 1913, Frank Burnside flew Santa from Bath to Corning, with a stop for repairs in Campbell.

Christmas 1918 must have been very confusing. The Great War had ended in November, but the boys still weren’t home, and many never would be, and others would never be the same. The Spanish influenza, which had killed millions, still lingered. Prohibition was running the wineries and grape growers. War workers were out of jobs, farm prices collapsed.

We still weren’t recovered when the Great Depression came, and then the catastrophe of Pearl Harbor. But scarcely two weeks later President Roosevelt lighted the National Christmas Tree. “Let the children have their night of fun and laughter,” said Winston Churchill. “Let the gifts of Father Christmas delight their play. Let us grownups share to the full in their unstinted pleasure.”

I look at a lot of one-room school photographs, and I’m always impressed at how well the children are dressed by the time the war ends in 1945, compared with how they dressed earlier. Better times made Christmas a bigger celebration. Captain Kangaroo hosted the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade on CBS, joined by Santa Claus for dinner at the Treasure House.

In 1962 came the first animated Christmas special, Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol. The following year was another confused holiday, as Thanksgiving and Christmas followed hard on the heels of President Kennedy’s funeral. A Charlie Brown Christmas first aired in 1965.

Christmas is what you make of it – or don’t make of it. For a couple of years in Virginia we belonged to a church that discouraged celebrating Christmas, as an unbiblical holiday. It certainly SHOULDN’T be a club to hit people with! But ever since it was created it’s been LIVING (and so changing), not frozen. It’s always been a work in progress, ever in flux, pagan, Christian, and secular. Whichever tack you take, feel free. I hope you and yours enjoy it well.

Baby Boom Toys (Part Two!)

A few weeks ago, in honor of the season, we looked at inductees to the National Toy Hall of Fame, which is at the Strong National Museum of Play in Rochester. (Worth a visit – you should go!) We focused ourselves on Baby Boom toys, released no earlier than 1946.

But I’ll make an exception for the SLINKY, introduced for Christmas in 1945. The manufacturers brought their first batch of 400 to demonstrate at Gimbels in Philadelphia, and sold out the stock in minutes.

I well remember being flabbergasted by the thing in the mid-fifties, as it “walked” its way down the stairs. Clearly it wasn’t magic, but it darned well looked like it. The down side was that Slinkies easily got twisted or tangled. (Still do, I suppose.) But the lifelike movement was compelling.

I was about 13 when G. I. JOE burst onto in the scene, so I didn’t get caught up in the enthusiasm. My younger cousin did, though. And so did millions of others.

G. I. Joe was sort of a male counterpart to Barbie, with all the changes of costume and paraphernalia. He was billed as an a-c-t-i-o-n f-i-g-u-r-e, and not as a (heavens!) d*o*l*l, so boys could enjoy him with impunity. And they did! He became the progenitor of acres of action figures, from Star Trek to Star Wars to He-Man and She-Ra, and he himself is still going strong.

Not without a few hiccups along the way, especially as Vietnam provoked Americans to re-evaluate their love affair with war. He disappeared for five years or so beginning in 1978, and he shrank in size from 11 ½ inches to eight inches to 3 ¾ inches. He also diversified, becoming an astronaut, an explorer… an adventurer. Even today, he’s always ready for the next mission or the next challenge, and the next kid with dreams.

I also had only a nodding acquaintance with the EASY-BAKE OVEN, originally available in such modern designer colors as turquoise and pale yellow. It’s very fondly remembered and still sells up a storm. The elementary-school girls in Jimmy Gownley’s Amelia Rules graphic novel series speak of it with awe as the “holy grail” of Christmas gifts. Hats off to the designers who discerned the brilliant and elegant simplicity of a pair of hundred-watt light bulbs making a safe yet functional oven for kids.

Oh, yes, the SKATEBOARD, or, in the early parlance of the day, the “sidewalk surfer.” Not being very good (even today) at fine-motor coordination, I couldn’t use the thing for beans. But they sure were popular! And still are today! And good for them (assuming you take safety precautions), for giving the kids fresh air and exercise.

Kudos also to the BIG WHEEL, first introduced by Marx. By the time it came out I was far too hulking to use it, but it transformed the venerable tricycle into a far safer (but even faster!) vehicle, mainly by lowering the rider, lowering the center of gravity, and replacing sharp-edged, unyielding metal with molded plastic. More fun, more safe. Love ’em both.

Even adding this second blog doesn’t exhaust the Baby Boom contributions to the National Toy Hall of Fame! We’ll add some more another time.

From Woolworth to Western Auto — Where Are They All Now?

The impending closure of Bath Kmart makes me dream of stores gone by. Remember Grant’s? There used to be one on Liberty Street in Bath. Corning had Woolworth and J. J. Newberry. Bath and Addison had G.L.F. And don’t forget Loblaw’s!

Everybody has stores that bring back youth and childhood. I started working at a Western Auto in Rhode Island when I was 14, and stayed there for 10 years, then later added a few months in Virginia.

Many, many people have told me that their very first bike was a Western Flyer from Western Auto. Mine too!

In days gone by Western Auto was “your home town department store.” They had an associate store arrangement, where small business owners could keep their independent ownership, their existing specialty, and their own character, with Western Auto as an overlay. “My” store did its own buying for hardware, plumbing, paint and electrical. Through Western Auto we added firearms, sporting goods, appliances, furniture, housewares, toys, and, of course, automotives. Back in the mid-sixties, we were still stocking and selling Model T and Model A parts.

Stores loom huge in the experience of little kids… so big! so much stuff!… and the memories linger for a lifetime. They remember the roar and vibration of coffee grinding at the register in A&P, or buying a children’s encyclopedia, one volume a week, from Grand Union.

One shopping center in Bath’s West End is still called the Acme plaza locally, though uts Acme supermarket has been gone for a long, long time. Newer folks call it the Jamesway plaza, but that’s gone too.

G.L.F. eventually merged with Eastern States to form Agway. G.L.F. produced its own cereals, still fondly remembered.

And don’t forget the S&H Green Stamps – or Plaid Stamps at A&P! Licking the stamps, sticking them in books, and poring through the catalog was a passionate childhood pastime. Now that I think of it, we still have a couple of items around the house that we “bought” with Green Stamps.

Where, outside of memory, are the stores of yesteryear? Western Auto’s name was legally discontinued in 2006. A&P closed its last store four years back. Grand Union’s been swallowed by Tops. Loblaw’s withdrew back to Canada decades ago. W. T. Grant went broke in ’76, Woolworth became Foot Locker. Ames and Newberry died with the 20th century.

Acme is still around, just not around here, and the same is true for Ben Franklin. I guess that’s also the case for Red & White, whose faded signs could still be found around Keuka Lake not long ago. There used to be an I.G.A. grocery store in Mount Morris, but the closest now seems to be in Pennsylvania.

Business crunches on, of course. The corner shops gave way to A&P, Western Auto, and Grant. They gave way to the K-Marts, and those are giving way to the Walmarts. Something’s lost, and something’s gained, with each transition. But the end of Ames, for instance, 17 years ago, meant that many folks in the Adirondacks suddenly had to drive 50 miles to buy a spool of thread.

At any rate, it’s no use to be crotchety. But scout around in memory… or in your home, your shed, your garage… and see what “classic” names and trademarks you find. Have fun!

300 Years in American Kitchens

A few years ago, in one of my World Civ courses at Genesee Community College in Dansville, one of my students became fascinated by how people ate in various places and at various times. As we read each chapter, he’d research the topic and report to the rest of us. We all became quite interested – and looked forward to his comments!

One thing we learned was that in days gone by, about three-quarters of what people ate was bread, and it took about three-quarters of their income to buy it. If supply went down, or price went up, millions might be pushed into death by starvation. So when we read about bread riots in the French Revolution, or the Russian revolution, they weren’t really bread riots – they were food riots.

Some religions maintain distinctness in part by dietary rules… kosher in Judaism, halal in Islam.

In the Epic of Gilgamesh… one of the oldest stories in the world… a woman tames Enkidu, the Wild Man of the Forest, in part by introducing him to baked bread and brewed beer. Much of humanity was still hunting and gathering, and those folks must have seemed like wild animals to the settled city dwellers of Mesopotamia. Brewing and baking were among the arts of civilization.

Cooking required something along the lines of a kitchen, at least in built-up areas. Western Europeans did not adopt the chimney until about 1100. Imagine how smokey their homes must have been! Many homes didn’t run to a kitchen, or at least their kitchens were very small. In A Christmas Carol, when the Cratchit family roasts their tiny goose, they join many of their neighbors in taking the goose to the baker, who makes his ovens available after the morning’s bread is done.

Stoves or ovens or hearths… they all operated by fire. Imagine cooking a meal by fire when it’s already 98 degrees in July. This problem was half-way solved with “summer kitchens” – spaces away from the main living quarters, and possibly even in a separate building. (Summer kitchens also helped to contain fires before they reached the main house.)

In 1868 the Magee House (Steuben County History Center) had a long extension reaching about to the middle of what’s now Dormann Library parking lot. I suspect that at the end of that extension was a summer kitchen.

WHEREVER the stove was, it STILL burned awfully hot. The cook had a choice between closing the kitchen windows (thus risking heat exhaustion) or opening them up… thus inviting every fly in the neighborhood to come and share the feast. (And to spread germs.) Screens weren’t invented until the late 1800s. Gas and electric ranges, with their small burners, helped to solve the heat problem, but the oven still made issues.

Much of their food we would rightly consider unhealthy and insalubrious. One Civil War soldier wrote his family in Prattsburgh that the tub of butter they sent was still fresh when it reached him in northern Virginia. This suggests that their standard of freshness varied considerably from ours.

Cooks back then had no accurate way to measure oven temperature, and no reliable way to tell time. So cooking times were by guess and by God, probably leading to underdone and overcooked portions on the table at the same meal.

American cookery varied from region to region, and many ethnic groups had their own traditional favorites. I grew up in Rhode Island on spaghetti, quahog chowder, corn-meal johnnycakes, and New York System hot dogs. Ask me some time about grinders and cabinets.

Linda Ferris is doing a free Steuben County Historical Society presentation on “The Evolution of American Cookery: From the 1600s to the Early 1900s.” It will be at 4 PM on Friday, December 6 in the Bath Fire Hall. Maybe you’d enjoy it!