From Geneva Gazette 7 August 1846
 
CLIFTON SPRINGS

Mr. Editor:

You have not visited Clifton lately, methinks, or you would have noticed in the columns of your paper, the improvements made at and about this delightful spot.  We hear of Saratoga, Ballston, Sharon, and Lebanon, as celebrated watering places, but, to my eye, none of them are to be compared to Clifton in point of situation. Its beautiful lawn and grove -- its clear, bubbling springs -- the rich country surrounding it, and that strong enticement to the sportsman, the abundance of game in the neighboring woods, render it, at once, to the invalid, and the lover of pleasure, healthful and delightful.  In addition, the medicinal quality of the water is such, as of itself to gather sufferers to this retreat as the unfortunate were gathered at the pool of Bethesda.  The multitude of well authenticated cures that have been effected by these waters -- principally of scrofula and rheumatic affections -- is truly astonishing.  I was somewhat surprised at the notoriety they have already acquired, as I found at them, invalids from almost every part of the country -- Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Cleveland, &c.  The Hotel under the management -- and good management too -- of our friend Parke, formerly of the Franklin in this village, has been considerably enlarged and refitted since last summer; the grounds have been improved, and improvements are constantly going on.  If you are desirous of retaining your health, or love a little pleasure, I can assure you, you can avail yourself of no greater luxury than the grove at Clifton with the thermometer at 94.  More anon.
Orville
Geneva, Aug. 7th, 1846
   


From Geneva Advertiser 15 January 1901

 Oaks Corners Talk Again - Many Old Papers

Away back in the 20's it was necessary to obtain a license from the town board to keep an Inn or Tavern, not a word being said in the license that the permission to sell liquors was granted by the license. Thus before us is the license of Fanny Oaks to keep an Inn or Tavern at Oaks Corners, one being necessary at the place. The license is dated May 2d, 1826, and was signed by William Hildreth, supervisor,  Thomas Smith and Michael Musselman, Justices of the Peace.

Another paper is an itemized bill rendered by Colt & Bayley of Geneva to Thaddeus Oaks, which foots up in pounds, shillings and pence.  It would puzzle people of the present day to figure accounts in this way.

Here is a copy of a note to settle on account:  "For Value received, I promise to pay Elias Cost, ten gallons of whiskey by the first day of February next.  Phelps, June 17, 1818.  Signed Austin Oaks."

Another and more queer document in writing is an inventory of stock down in Maryland. No names are given, so that we do not know who owned the property. There were 54 acres wheat and rye in various fields, sold by the acre, and realized "about" $3074.59.  Then followed prices of the negro slaves sold:

Old. Jas. - $ 25
Old Chas. - $ 5
Fink - $ 339
Hamilton - $188
Louisa - $225
Child - 50 cents
Charity - $ 2.56
Robert - $ 1.33
Caroline - $ 1.68
total $ 787.07

Even the date of this is not given, but from the style of the paper it must have been way back in the early part of the last century, when slaves were cheap.

Elias Cost was the first postmaster of Oaks Corners, was appointed on the 3d February, 1833. Andrew Jackson was President.  There are three printed documents bearing on the establishment of the postoffice and the appointment of a postmaster.  The first is a long document, bearing instructions to Mr. Cost who was about to be appointed, dated Feb'y 3d, 1832.  A packet containing mail key, blanks, laws and regulations, table of post offices, etc., was sent him in care of the post master at Phelps.  The second document is an announcement as follows:
"The Postmaster General informs the Honorable Mr. Jewett (member of congress) that he has this day established a Post Office at Oaks Corners, County of Ontario and State of New York, and appointed Elias Cost to be Post Master. The key for opening the mail is enclosed in the necessary blanks for the office, which we transmitted to the Post Office at Phelps.
P. O. Dep. 3d Feb. 1832"
This was followed by the commission of Elias Cost, dated Feb. 15, 1832, and duly registered Feb. 29th, in the office of appointments.  It bears the signatures of W. T. Barry, Postmaster General, and A. M. D. Jackson, the Registrar of Appointments.

Mr. Cost was the grandfather of W. A. Oaks, and this is why the old papers came into his hands. If we are not mistaken, A. M. D. Jackson was a nephew of old Hickory, the President.  The autographs alone are well worth preserving.








From Geneva Gazette 9 October 1874

Ontario County Correspondence

West Bloomfield - Its Fine Scenery - Ainsworth's Fish Ponds
East Bloomfield - Its Refined Population - Its Academy, with an Old Genevan as Principal - &c.

East Bloomfield, N. Y., Oct. 5, 1874

Dear Gazette:  We hardly thought when leaving Geneva to accept so soon your invitation to "write to us," but as the kind fates willed it our lot has fallen in the pleasant little village from whence our letter is dated, and we cannot resist the temptation to let others share with us in the pleasure we find in the many beautiful nooks in this part of "Old Ontario."

Tourists often go to distant lands to find poorer scenery and less enjoyment than lies almost immediately at home.  Within Ontario County may be found many picturesque and beautiful views.  They are especially numerous for a country famous for agriculture, and it is not generally known even at home that in this vicinity there are some of the finest farms, the largest apple orchards in the world, grand old hills 500 feet in height, cascades sixty feet, glens almost to be compared to the famous Watkins, beautiful valleys and charming nooks and corners, not to mention the less conspicuous burning gas and sulphur springs, &c.

For fine farms and handsome country residences, let us take a drive on the old state road from Geneva west to Lima; for rolling hills with delightful valleys between, let us ride from Victor southward to Naples, and then "down in Egypt" and emerge at the cosy little town of Honeoye Flats at the foot of Honeoye Lake.  From here homeward let us not forget to call at West Bloomfield, six or eight miles north down the outlet, where we find a pleasant collection of some seventy or eighty houses, stores, shops, &c., and the beautiful residence of Hon. S. H. Ainsworth, with its large, handsome hothouse full of rare varieties of clustering grapes, and the first fish pond built in America.  Here we enjoyed one of the most agreeable days of our life with its intelligent and hospitable proprietor and lady, eating rare fruit, "throwing the fly" for the "speckled beauties," and listening to the origin and history of fish culture in the United States.  Mr. A. has two ponds, one for bass and the other for trout; and with but an inch volume of water gathered by branching layers of piles, has succeeded in perfecting the art of raising thousands of spawn and young fish, and giving to the people through the wider efforts of Seth Green and others the benefits of this paying enterprise.  He has never made this a business save for his own gratification and love of the art.  Mr. A. has been honored with several beautiful gold and silver medals from societies in France and Germany for his success in perfecting the method of raising spawn now in use.

And now journeying east, our faces toward home, we come upon the village of East Bloomfield, clustered on the hilltop and almost hid by grand old oaks and elms, and its handsome park in the center.  The situation is five miles east of the county line and eight miles west from Canandaigua on the old State road, with the Batavia branch of the N. Y. Central half a mile to the east.  Dwellings however extend to the depot and end in quite a little cluster at that point.  Here we resolved to sojourn a season, pleased with the pleasant surroundings, fine farms, extensive views and cultured inhabitants.  For a place so small we have never found so much culture and refinement -- which, however, as we learn from an acquaintance, is but a remnant of what once was in days gone by, when fashionable evening receptions, dinners, &c., were as much in vogue as in more pretentious places.  It is doubtless better as it is now, for we find the intelligence and air of the town with the reality and open hospitality of the country.

We find one of Geneva's former citizens in charge of the flourishing Academy here - Dr. Chas. C. Eastman.  The Dr. seems to be doing well, engaged in earnest efforts for that best of causes, education.  The institution consists of a primary and academic departments for both sexes, and has a liberal patronage.  Dr. E. is assisted by Miss Cornelia and Prof. George Eastman. What better place, free from the temptations of a town, and still with the advantages of a home, can parents desire for their boys and girls.

But we fear your space will not allow a longer chat, so we close, regretting that we cannot tell you of Bristol and Honeoye, those delightful valleys stretching so charmingly to the south, encircled by green hills and lofty ridges.  Inviting you and the good people of Geneva to "come and see" and enjoy with us, we are

Yours rustically,          M.




From Geneva Advertiser 1 April 1902

 Mr. Edgar Parker,

In your last issue, speaking of a fence post in the town of Phelps set out by John Foster 75 years ago as believed to be the oldest post in the United States, while I admit it has done good service, it is not the oldest post.  On the Kingsbury farm in the town of East Bloomfield, about three miles east of the village, there now stands a red cedar post about eight feet high that used to carry the sign reading "Joel Steele Inn," that had stood there many years before my father was born, which was in Sept. 1806, and Joel Steele was an uncle of my father's and it is less than a year since my father showed me the post. While the post does not stand quite straight, it is in apparent good condition.  The old sign of the Inn is in good order and quite a curiosity, and is in the possession of Charles Buell who lives across the road.

In connection with this my father was telling me that when he was about twelve years old, the soldiers were camped a few days on this old farm , and that while there stole a cheese out of his grandfather's kitchen.  It was discovered who stole the cheese, and the parties were publicly whipped in the yard by the house.  When the army got ready to move, they were short of teams, and forcibly took them from the farmers, some of whom clung to the lines and they were slapped by the officers with the flat side of their swords.  The teams were all returned in good order and the farmers well paid for their service.

There is now standing in the yard of Dr. Wheeler an old oak tree in good order in which a bear was killed before 1800.  I have in my house an old wooden clock in a tall case that belonged to my father's mother and came from Massachusetts over one hundred and fifty years ago on an ox cart, and it keeps good time yet.  I have also a hall clock with brass works which my father saw made in East Bloomfield when he was about thirteen years old, and his is now ninety-six, with fine memory and good eye sight, but quite deaf.  He did all of his own ploughing when he was eighty-five.  There may be older posts, older clocks, but very few older fathers, and I am sure no better ones than Hiram Steele of East Bloomfield.

C. A. Steele





From Ontario County Journal 5 February 1892

The Descendants of Some of East Bloomfield's Pioneers - Editor Journal: Two or three years ago there was an article published in the Journal, giving a brief sketch in relation to various matters in this town, some of which suggested to the writer a few items not mentioned therein. For instance, the first descendants of the pioneers of the town are very few among us; and as we laid to rest a few days ago our esteemed and very useful fellow citizen, H. W. Hamlin, whose parents were among the first who came into this town (about 1798), we could but think of the fact that only a few of his contemporaries were left to us: Hiram Steele and Gary Collins, both 85 years old; the former as active as many of our young men; the latter more infirm and the last of his father's family. Gaius Adams, grandson of Deacon John Adams (who came to this town in 1798, with a family of six sons and four daughters, and first settled on the east side of Mud creek, near what is known as the Daniel Johnson place), is nearly four score years old, and though just having a hard time with the grippe, bids fair to stop with us a while longer. Again, Darius Carter came here in 1811, built a large brick house near the depot, in which he kept a hotel for many years; he died in 1832. His family of nine children have all passed away, Mrs. Weda Munson, widow of Harlow Munson, (who was our sheriff in '62-5, ) a most estimable lady and neighbor, whom we remember from our very childhood as one whom old and young, alike, most highly esteemed in all the relations of life. And, also, as we call to mind such men as Moses Fairchild, Martin Haywood, Josiah Porter, (who for the last thirty years of his life was justice of the peace in our midst); Timothy Bell, Anson Munson, Israel North, Daniel Rice, senior, and others too numerous to mention, all of them men of the most strict integrity and perseverence in the right.

A sense of loneliness comes over us at times, and we cast about us in vain for some one to fill the place of each of the departed, but no one has as yet put in his appearance, and probably never will. These first descendants of the fathers left an indelible impression of character and works which remain with us to the present time, but, of course, shows less and less each succeeding generation. Although these changes are going on everywhere, they are not always so marked and suggestive in matters of general interest as in our churches. One thing more, which is pleasant to think of, is our abundant supply of the necessities of life, and the disposition of most of our people to secure them by habits of industry and temperance; only a few among us do otherwise. We have in town today about ninety-five persons whose ages range from 70 to 93 years. We buried in '91 but three octogenarians and one non-octogenarian.







From Ontario County Journal 12 August 1881
SOUTH BRISTOL

 At the request of numerous parties, I send you a few items from this romantic old town. Going back to its first settlement at Wilder's Point (now Seneca), we find it occupied by Gamaliel Wilder, who was a whole romance himself -- hero and all the minor actors complete. He erected the first mill, hotel, and the only church that was ever built; and as one of our temperance orators said, he erected them both, and the one has torn down the other and it has never been replaced -- a sad commentary on our religious status. Now Seneca Point is a splendid summer resort, with a wide and increasing popularity, kept by Mr. Castle, in excellent order. The guests there little imagine it to be the first settlement in a town noted for its numerous places of resort for health and pleasure.

Wilder must have been a man of keen perception and natural taste for the beautiful, to have selected from so many the most delightful place of all. Then the rugged hills were covered to the peak in Nature's most enticing drapery, and as he paddled his "old canoe" up the lake its own attractiveness must have drawn the prow of the boat ashore.

Further up along the shore are similar places, trying in vain, by the help of art, to outrival glorious old Seneca. Cook's Point, directly above, is perfectly splendid, lacking only what advantages nature has so lavishly bestowed on her more fortunate sister.

Next above is the private residence of our new U. S. Senator, the Hon. E. G. Lapham, which is a perfect paradise, with its bountiful display of fruit and flowers -- a place one in a thousand, and one of which anyone could rightly feel proud. The "Old Roman" who is its fortunate owner has served his country long and faithfully, and now has been elevated to his present high position. He claims to be a full-blooded South Bristol man, and evidently considers it no disgrace to reside with us.

But other places justly claim notice as well. All of our mountain peaks are fast taking rank as desirable retreats during heated term. At Mr. Charles Hemingway's, directly above Cook's, is an elevation of some 700 feet in a little over a mile, where a good many go to avoid the heat and get relief from hay fever.

Gannet Hill lies south and west of Mr. Hemingway's, and is another elevated point where the weary are at rest; and whether the wicked cease from troubling or not, the writer knows not of.

But the king of all is Worden Hill, so far above its sister hills that you look down on them and wonder that you ever recognized them at all. Here upon the very highest peak, the State has erected a tower about 70 feet high, for use in connection with the State survey. Climbing to the top of this tower, you look out upon the world, rather down upon it, and such a view !! Thirteen counties, with all therein contained. Like looking through a kaleidoscope, every turn of the glass brings new and seemingly more beautiful view; Canandaigua, Seneca, Ontario, Honeoye, and other lakes present themselves to our astonished eyes. Full fifty different cities and towns are spread out like a panorama -- Mount Hope on one side, the hills of Tompkins and Tioga counties on the other. The loveliest of all nature's most beautiful vales, Genesee Valley, lies directly west and north, down under our very feet, with its fields of golden grain, patches of forest, villages, hamlets, and homes of the lords of the soil. Ah, how little they realize with what disdain we contemplate their littleness, they in their pride and wealth seeming to possess it all, not realizing that it all belongs to Nature and to Nature's God. We descend the tower with a full and realizing sense of our own diminutiveness, and humble ourselves before Him who created this lovely scene, wondering it so long has escaped the eye of tourist and artist, and bid it an affectionate "good bye".



From Ontario County Journal 1 April 1887

On Tuesday morning last our South Bristol correspondent came to us with news of a somewhat startling nature from his locality. It appears that on the evening of the 12th of last December, James Kelsey, a farmer who owned a small farm about a mile and a half from "Rocky Lonesome," mysteriously disappeared while searching among the hills for some lost sheep. His disappearance, although commented upon by the neighbors, caused little more than a nine days' wonder, as he was irregular in his habits, and it was thought was only having a somewhat more extended spree than usual.

Last Sunday evening, about nine o'clock, his wife was surprised to see him limp into the kitchen with a badly sprained ankle, his clothes in tatters, and beard and hair full of unusual growth. He related a story of his experiences since the night of his disappearance which borders on the marvelous, and has created no little excitement among the Bristol hills. Although a man of previously good reputation for veracity, a number of his neighbors refuse to give any credence to his story. Others think that his wanderings and presumed dissipation have unsettled his mind, while others who know him well, and have had business dealings with him, vouch both for his veracity and for his sanity. Among these last was our correspondent, who, after briefly relating his story, strongly urged a visit and a personal interview with Mr. Kelsey. This was determined upon, but before Mr. Kelsey was called upon a number of his neighbors were seen and searching inquiries made as to his veracity and probable sanity. Mr. Elias Lippitt -- a well-known farmer and the nearest neighbor to Kelsey -- who has frequently employed him, said that although he was somewhat addicted to liquor, he had always found him truthful, and that he could see no motive for his concocting any such story as he relates. William Wemple, who lives about a mile and a half from Kelsey, said that he had never known him to lie. Seven others were seen and all but two described him as truthful, the other two saying that he was a liar, and one of them going so far as to call him a "dam liar." The weight of testimony was, however, strongly favorable to Kelsey's veracity, and it was decided to visit him.

His house, situated some distance from the road, is a low, one-story frame structure, with only two rooms and a kitchen back. In the north one of the two main rooms, Mr. Kelsey was found seated in a rocking chair while his left leg was extended before him, resting on another chair and liberally wrapped in flannels. A strong odor of arnica pervaded the room. His wife, a rather good-looking woman of about forty, immediately came in from the kitchen with a little girl hanging to her skirts. She gave a rather perfunctory "good day," and seated herself by the stove, where she remained throughout the interview. Mr. Kelsey himself was a fairly intelligent looking man of about fifty, with thick iron grey hair and beard. There was nothing remarkable about his personal appearance or demeanor, save an extraordinary pallor and a nervous, tremulous twitching of the legs.

"This gentleman has come from Canandaigua to hear your story, Kelsey," said our correspondent, "will you tell it to him?" Mr. Kelsey cleared his throat huskily and shifting his foot to a more comfortable position, said with a glance at his wife; "Yes, I don't mind telling it again, and it's all true, every word of it, just as it happened to me. It was Sunday night, December 12th, wasn't it?" appealing to his wife, who corroborated him with a nod. "I had been up to Bristol, and I guess I had been drinking a little. My wife told me that the sheep had strayed off and as it was a cold night, I took a lantern and started off after 'em. I didn't find 'em where I expected to and went on over across the ridge to what we call the "rock pasture." I guess I must have got a mile from home and was beginning to get kind of lost myself when something give way under me and I fell what seemed to me about a hundred feet, half falling, half rolling until I struck bottom with a thump and I thought broke every bone in my body. When I come to my senses, my lantern was out and I was so sore I could scarcely move. I had some matches in my pocket, and the first thing I did was to light the lantern to try and see what had become of me. I looked around and saw on all sides of me steep walls of rock. I thought I had fallen into some kind of pit, and began to try to climb out but I soon found that was no use, for a few feet above me the rocks hung out over my head. After trying for a while to find some way of getting out, I stumbled into a sort of narrow passage way which after a few rods branched off into other passages. I followed these till I'd lost my bearings and was all tired out and sore with stumbling over the rocks and laid down and went to sleep. I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up, I heard the sound of voices off through one of the tunnels. I got up and lit my lantern which I had put out when I went to sleep, and started off in the direction of the voices. I hadn't gone very far before I almost run into a couple of strange looking creatures that started and ran like deers as soon as I saw them. I followed stumbling along, for I thought long as they was afraid of me I wouldn't be of them.

After going what seemed to me about two miles but was very likely not so far, the passage way I was following began gradually to get bigger until I came into a big cave with the top two or three hundred feet above me and about a mile wide. There was a big lake in this, sort o' narrow but stretching off further than I could see. Pretty soon as I came nearer to it, I saw about thirty of the same creatures I had run upon in the passage. They was all together and some of them seemed to be watching me. The rest of 'em looked as if they was listening hard. They was talking to each other in what sounded like the English language. They was strange looking things, with no clothes on, and some of them didn't have any eyes at all or any places for eyes. Some that looked older than the others had little bits of eyes. Pretty soon one of them, an old one, came towards me and said in a gruff hoarse voice, "Who?" I said "My name is James Kelsey," but he didn't seem to understand. Pretty soon he took me by the arm and led me up to where the others were. At first they looked kind of scared at me, but pretty soon they began talking to each other, and before long they was feeling of me all over, especially the young ones who had no eyes.

After awhile one of the old ones said "Eat?" pointing to his mouth, I said "Yes" and one of the young ones run off and after a little came back with a fine broiled trout. I eat it all for I was awful hungry, and they stood around and looked at me. After I had got through the old man came up to me and said "Where you come from?" plain enough. I said "From Bristol" but he didn't seem to understand me. I asked him where he come from and he said "Here." I said "Always lived here?" and he said he had. I asked him if he didn't get tired of living in such a damp climate and he said "No." I asked him why they didn't get out, but he didn't seem to understand me. I stayed there with those people, and kinder people never lived, until last Sunday night.

After a few days we got so we could understand each other very well, only they didn't seem to know many words. Fish was the only kind of food they had. They didn't know much about time, day and night was all the same to them, and the only way they could tell about time was by the lake getting cold. They called this "cold water" and the old man said he could remember forty "cold waters." After a while he told me as well as he could that his father had told him that his father had come in a boat from some other place with three others, and he showed me the wreck of an old fashioned wooden boat on the shore. The fire which did the cooking they kept burning all the time and he said they got coal at the other end of the lake. All the food they had was fish which they speared with spears made of rock points and with handles made of the bones of some small animals bound together with fish gut. This animal which I thought must be a sort of musk rat also furnished skins for their boats of which there were three or four, with frames made of the same bones as the spear handles. I found they were very bright people, and learned very quick. The only trouble was they knew so few words, only the names of things they had there in the cave. I found after I had been there a while that there was about seventy of them, about thirty grown people and forty children of all ages. After I had been here a while I began to get pretty tired of fish and of the life and began wondering how I could get out. I found out that they knew of the place I fell in, for it was a little light above and the old man said he had often wondered what it was. I told him I was going to try to get out and he made no objection, but when I asked if some of them did not want to go with me, they all said no. But they all turned to and helped me make a strong rope of the fish gut, and went with me to the place where I fell in. It did not take me very long to throw a rock with the rope tied to it over a bit that stuck out about 15 feet above, but not until I had slipped back and sprained my ankle did I succeed in getting onto the ledge above; after that the entrance sloped gradually and I soon climbed out and found my way home."

"There's the rope there" said Kelsey, pointing to a rope about thirty five feet in length which lay coiled on the floor. It was curiously made of fine gut and seemed strong and durable. Kelsey himself showed visible signs of having gone through some strange experiences. Although apparently in good health, except for his sprained ankle, he had the tremulous nervous manner already referred to and seemed rather reluctant to go much into details. He believes that he can easily find the entrance to the cavern again and promised to take the Journal reporter to it just as soon as he is able to move. The neighbors and those who know Kelsey say that although a man of more than average intelligence he is not at all the man to invent such a tale.

The above account was related briefly yesterday to a man well versed in the early history of the county and he at once said that he remembered in one of the old histories of the county a description of the disappearance of four persons who were fishing on the lake. A search was made among the old records and on page 221 of "Townsend's Early Annals of Ontario," published in 1823 by George Burke & Bros. of Philadelphia, is found the following:

In this year (1817) a sad accident occurred to Mr. Elizur Hedge and wife and a young man named Crumb and Ann Hedge, a daughter of Elizur. While fishing on the lake, they were upset and all the party drowned, no traces ever being found of their bodies nor of the boat.

It is a well authenticated fact known to the older inhabitants of the county and amply proven by various authorities that about seventy years ago there was a sudden rise in the level of the waters of the lake, some authorities putting the change of level as great as twelve feet. The weight of evidence is however that the rise was not more than three or at most four feet. This is further proven by the testimony of the descendants of the older settlers of the southwestern lake shore, who remember their fathers telling of the existence of a cave leading to the west from the lake through a low opening which was navigable and which gradually expanded into a large subterranean cavern. This was known as Hyde's Hole and was a favorite winter fishing ground for trout, which seemed to hibernate there. The mouth of this cavern disappeared on the day of the rise of the waters of the lake. It is impossible by such documentary evidence as we can discover to definitely establish that the disappearance of the four persons and the rise of the lake level occurred on the same day, but certain facts point with reasonable certainty to such coincidence. If this could be definitely established there would seem to be little doubt that Hedge and his companions were not drowned at all but that they entered the cave in search of fish and getting further than they intended found their retreat cut off by the rising waters. It was probably their descendants with whom Kelsey had his strange experience. What at first seemed almost incredible about Kelsey's narrative and cast strong doubts upon the whole was his story of the absence of eyes among the younger people. This has been converted into additional proof of its truth by the testimony of a gentleman who says that it is a well-known scientific fact that the disuse of any organ is followed before many generations by its speedy decay. This gentleman cited as examples of this the eyeless fishes of the Mammoth cave, and the Rocky Mountain Big Horn sheep, that, if taken to level countries, soon lose the enormous horns upon which they alight in their long leaps from the high peaks of the Rockies.




From Ontario County Journal 3 January 1890
EAST BLOOMFIELD HISTORY

Mr. Editor:

In this year of celebrations connected with interesting periods of our history as a nation, state, county, as well as town, one is much inclined to look at the past as he sees it, in the main, most clearly from his own stand point in life. And in so doing finds much of recent date in the social as well as political events of his own town of interest and pleasure to look at. Take for instance our little town of East Bloomfield, settled in 1789, and now has a population of about 2700, about one-fourth of which are foreigners and their descendants who began to settle here about 1840, and now owning some of our best farms. Many of them make good citizens, but it is not a pleasant thought to an old resident born here in 1817, that so many of our old families are giving way to strangers. But few farms or homes are now occupied by the posterity of those who felled the first trees, plowed the first furrows and rocked the first cradle in Western Ontario. But one farm in town is now owned and occupied by a son of the first settler. Elisha Steele still lives where his father purchased nearly one hundred years ago; is about 78 years of age, as active and hearty as many men at 50, and whose golden wedding we celebrated Feb. 19, 1889. Another item of interest is our fertile soil and salubrious climate. No stagnant pools of water nor swamp holes to breed disease or invite epidemics. The only serious epidemic ever in town was that of 1813. A young M. D. who settled here a few years since said to the writer, "This is the healthiest place in the world, not much for me to do here." We stand high and dry, from 600 to 1000 feet above water level. It is said that the highest point of land on the road between Albany and Buffalo is about one mile west of this village. With a glass, I have seen from my own door Reed's Corners, thirteen miles away, plain enough to recognize buildings with which I am acquainted. Again it has been said of late that the longevity of the people of this country was on the increase, and judging from our town, I should think it was so. For instance only 13 have died this year whose aggregate ages is 910, an average of 70 years, not including infants. About fifty years ago a new cemetery was opened in this village in which we count about 700 graves and less than fifty of them those of octogenarians, until the present year during which five over 80 years old have been buried. Referring to a statement published five years ago, there were then twenty in town over 80 years old, now, 1889, there were 31. Then, 1884, there were thirty septuagenarians, now they number more than fifty. The oldest person living, born here, is Myron Adams, Sr., now for twenty years a resident of Rochester, 90 years of age.

The oldest living in town and born here is Mrs. Betsey C. Hamlin, aged 88 years. Two ladies over 90 years old are now living in town thought not born here. Also in 1875, we are credited with six nonagenarians the same as Canandaigua. Phelps, the only town in the county ahead of us, having nine, with a population much larger. Stephen Salmon, the last of our 1812 veterans, died Nov. 26, 1889, aged 94. And the only living memorial of that war, now with us, is Mrs. Laura Butler, aged 84 years.

Now, as to the late civil war, we enlisted 160 of our young men, many of them the best; forty of whose names are engraved on a monument erected to their memory in our village park by a grateful people at a cost of $6000. About twenty-five are still with us, as it were, to remind us of the last bloody strife for the legacy left us by our forefathers, a free government and liberal institutions -- doubly secured, we believe, to us and our posterity by the valor and heroism of "our boys in blue."          E. B. W.


Return to the Ontario Co. GenWeb page

                Copyright © 2002-06, Ontario County NYGenWeb and each contributor and author of materials herein. All rights reserved.

101406