Oswego to Auburn - the Long Way

Oswego Times

April 29, 1859

New Proprietor: - New Coaches. - S.W. Cox Esq. of the Express Office has purchased the Oswego and Auburn and Sterling and Wolcott line of stages. A coach will leave Oswego at 8 A.M. every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, arriving at Auburn in the afternoon of the same day. A coach will leave Auburn on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday of each week, at 8 A.M. The line runs through the following places:

South West Oswego, North Sterling, Pelham, Sterling Centre, Fair Haven, Red Creek, Wolcott, Martville, Town Line, Victory, Conquest, Port Byron to Auburn. Mr. Cox has placed nothing but the best and most comfortable coaches on the line, with good teams under the charge of experienced drivers. It also makes a very convenient Express line, and everything entrusted to Mr. Cox for delivery in any of these places will promptly be delivered. Nothing is wanting to make the line a public convenience.

Jason C. Woodruff: From Rags to Riches

The second Syracuse House built in 1830,

on the east side of today's Clinton Square.

Jason Cooper Woodruff (Born March 11, 1800

in New Haven, Conn. Died July 16, 1878

in Syracuse, N.Y. Buried in Oakwood

Cemetery)

By Richard Palmer

When Jason C. Woodruff made his first trip as a stagecoach driver between Utica and Syracuse he only had eight cents in his pocket. By the time railroads came into vogue, he was owner of part owner of a vast stagecoach network in central New York, with headquarters in Syracuse. Woodruff was born in New Haven, Conn., in 1800 in humble circumstances. He was left fatherless when he was only two years old. One of several children, his mother struggled to maintain a home the best she could.

At the age of nine, Jason found a job herding sheep which he did for four years. Then he was employed by the same firm, Prescott & Sherman of New Haven, unloading salt, which he did for two years. At the age of 15 he went to work in a tannery with the idea of learning that trade until one day he accidentally fell into a vat. Then he decided farming was less dangerous. The following winter he attended a district school. Being now nearly 17, he then decided to become a blacksmith - an occupation he followed for five years in Great Barrington, Mass.

At the end of his apprenticeship, his only assets were a thorough knowledge of the business, a limited wardrobe, and eight cents. But he had the urged to go west and seek his fortune, which he did, and eventually he found himself in Utica in the fall of 1822. Having a fund of knowledge of horses, in 1824 he became a stagecoach driver for an opposition line to the long established "Old Line Mail" proprietors. He spent the next four years driving stage to Canandaigua.

When, for the first time, he, with so much pride, wheeled up his coach-and-four in front of the Syracuse House door, he had little thought that the dismal swamp through which he had passed would be the heart of a city; that the road-bed of logs would give place to paved streets lined with spacious mansions, and, most all, that he would become mayor of Syracuse. In the parlor of the second Syracuse in 1852 he would introduce to the citizens of the city General Winfield Scott, the hero of many battles of the Mexican War.

Mr. Woodruff was the epitome the poor boy from humble circumstances could rising from poverty to the position of much authority and responsibility.

On his early travels he could see how central New York was rapidly developing and eventually made Syracuse his home. He purchased a livery business from Philo Rust in 1826 and developed his own stagecoach business, primarily on the north and south routes out of Syracuse, which he operated until superseded by railroads.

From 1831 to 1837 he was manager of the United States Banking system and in 1852 was elected mayor of Syracuse. He was twice president of the Onondaga County Agricultural Society and also served as vice president of the New York State Agricultural Society. He also was one of the oldest members of First Presbyterian Church.

In 1826 he married Amanda Johnson, a native of Lee, Mass. They had eight children. An example of his extensive stagecoach business is found in this advertisement in the Syracuse Gazette & General Advertiser of June 4, 1828:

Syracuse, Homer and Ithaca Line of Stages.

A Line of Stages for the above places will leave the general Stage Office in this village every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, which goes through to Ithaca in one day, and returns every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.

Jason C. Woodruff, Syracuse

Oliver W. Brewster, Onondaga Hollow.

A Line of Stages will will also leave the Stage office for Oswego and Watertown by the way of Central Square and Mexico, every day, Sundays excepted.

For the above line of Stages a share of public patronage is solicited, as good horses, carriages and drivers will be provided, and every exertion made to accommodate travelers.

Proprietors

J.C. Woodruff, Syracuse,

W. Green, Salina,

H. Curtis, Central Square,

A. Russel, Adams,

Hungerford & Co., Watertown

Mr. Woodruff went on to become a prominent local businessman and erected a flour mill at a cost of $30,000 which was a fortune in those time.

Woodruff, and John Butterfield of Utica, decided to give the fledgling Syracuse & Utica Railroad, opened 1839, some competition. Accordingly they established a line of daily except Sunday stages between the two cities. They intended to perform the distance in as good time as the trains, and occasionally beat them. They traveled by daylight only. The editor of the Oneida Whig on January 7, 1840 noted: "We hope the enterprising proprietors will not be left by the traveling public to pocket the loss."

But the stage proprietors soon realized that they could not compete with trains. Woodruff's stages continued to operate for several more years on routes where there were no railroads. We find this advertisement in the Syracuse Standard dated September 6, 1851:

SYRACUSE, HOMER AND CORTLAND.

Two Lines of Stages are now running on the Homer and Cortland Road, leaving the Stage Office at the Syracuse House, at 8 o'clock in the morning and 2 in the afternoon; leaving Cortland every morning for Binghamton. The proprietors have great confidence in presenting their Stages to the public; having withdrawn all the old stock on the road and replaced it with entirely new, and will run in as good time as any road in the State.

JASON C. WOODRUFF,

WM. P. RANDALL,

MAJOR MORGAN.

P.S. Stages leave every morning at 8 o'clock for the North, intersecting the Cars at Sandy Creek.

J.C. WOODRUFF.

The last hold out was on the route south. This advertisement in the Syracuse Standard dated April 22, 1854 indicates Woodruff's desire to get out of the stagecoach business. By that time the Syracuse & Binghamton Railroad was under construction:

NOTICE.

The subscriber having sold his Livery and disposed of his interest in the Northern Stages, is desirous of selling his Stock in the

HOMER AND CORTLAND Road, Consisting of Twenty First Class Road Horses and Harness, Five Post Coaches, Three Stage Wagons and Three Sleighs, now running as per the following schedule:

Going South

Mail leaves Syracuse at 8 o'clock A.M.

Accommodation leaves Syracuse at 2 o'clock P.M.

Express leaves Syracuse at 3 o'clock P.M.

Making three daily runs to Tully and two to Cortland.

The Mail and Express leave Cortland and Homer every morning, (Sunday excepted,) at from 6 to 7 o'clock. The accommodation will leave Tully at 6 in the morning, and will arrive early in the day, providing the President of the Plank Road Co. will discharge his duty to the public with that energy of character for which he has so favorably distinguished himself in subserving his own private interests.

J.C. WOODRUFF

Syracuse, April 14, 1854

Sources:

Clayton, W.W., History of Onondaga County, N.Y., 1878

Hand, M.C., From a Forest to a City, Syracuse, N.Y., 1889

Obituary in the Syracuse Daily Journal, July 16, 1878

Stagecoach Days in Syracuse

(From: From a Forest to a City. by M.C. Hand [Syracuse] 1889. PP. 35-39).

The old four-horse stage-coach was a strong and crude contrivance and as uncomfortable a mode of travel as could be imagined, with its perfume of tar-grease and reeking horses. Steel springs not having been invented, the coach body was suspended upon heavy leather straps, and a large rack was fastened on the rear and called the "boot," where baggage was stowed away.

The top was decked over and a strong iron railing placed around the outside of the deck to keep packages from falling off. When passengers were plenty and anxious to go, twelve persons were crowded inside, and I have seen nearly as many on the outside at the same time. Five miles an hour, under such circumstances, was astonishing velocity.

A journey from Albany to Buffalo in those (P. 36) days, for ladies and gentlemen who were not strong, was undertaken with much reluctance; for sea-sickness was as common on such journeys as on a voyage across the ocean, as the egg-shaped box suspended on these straps, or belts, had the motion of a rocking chair. A that time, when the country was comparatively new, many swamps were bridged over by logs being laid close together across the road and filled in between with coarse gravel which was soon partly forced out, and the most intolerable road was the result.

As the stage went thumping and jolting, long in and log out, over this road the motion of the stagecoach resembled the action of the walking-beam of a ugh pressure engine, and those occupying the rear seat seat would have to grasp, with both hands, the straps that were provided to hold on with, to prevent from being thrown headlong from their3 seats. Under such conditions passengers who were not strong would soon tire out and be compelled to stop at the taverns and rest until another stage was due, sometimes requiring a week to make the trip from Albany to Buffalo.

In those days there was but little traveling for pleasure, yet it was an improvement over what had been, and travelers were satisfied because they knew of nothing better. Although many hardships were encountered, the journey was not altogether void of attractions, - such as the deep dark forest with towering hemlocks and pines, with here and there a little clearing with a log house and a feeble attempt to cultivate the soil. The scenery was varied and sometimes interesting. The passengers were social, and many a warm and lasting friendship had its origin in the old stage-coach. The drivers were hardy class of men capable of great endurance.. This was a necessity, as they were exposed to many hardships which they bore with great cheerfulness.

In the year 1822 there was a great excitement throughout the length of the Genesee turnpike, in consequence of an opposition line of stages from Uticato the west. There were Vanderbilts in those days, and everything possible was done to make this line a success. Its coaches were superior to any that had been used before; the horses were the best that could be found, and the drivers were selected with great care.

At the time there was a young blacksmith in Utica, who had applied for a position as a driver on the new line. It was soon found he had a great knowledge of horses, and that, with his lively and energetic manner, won for him the privilege of selection his horses and coach from all that were to be placed on the line; and as he had the best outfit, he was elected to drive out of Utica the first stage on the new opposition line, which was a great event in this days and was witnessed by a crowd of interested spectators.

These pages may be of value to some young men who have life before them and no definite aim yet decided upon, to watch he carer of this young coachman and emulate his example; for none could commence life nearer to zero than he. All the regular instruction he ever had in school was gained in one winter term in a district school, and after spending five years to learn the blacksmith's trade he started out in the world to seek his fortune with a capital of only eight cents.

Thus the old stage-coach whirls along, up hill and down, through dark forests miles in extent, passing over tedious corduroy roads, then where cultivated fields line the roadside, with here and there humble dwellings, the homes of people who were living in quiet simplicity, never dreaming of the comforts and improvements of the present day.

I always felt the greatest sympathy for this hardy class of people who endured great toil and hardships in clearing the forests away and preparing the soil for cultivated fields of waving grain. They seem to have been martyrs who wore their lives away in hard labor, that the next generation might enjoy the results.

This young stage-driver the we have been describing, encountered nowhere between Syracuse and Utica a worse piece of road, or a more dismal prospect, than that between the hills on the eastern boundaries of the town and the Syracuse House. Every foot of the road-bed was ma de by laying logs close together through the swamp. Pools of water lined the sides of the road where Fayette Park is located, and had a team of horses stepped off this road-bed of logs they would have mired in the swamp and probably never regained the road.

The approach from the east to the Syracuse House at that time was most unfavorable for a display of the stage-driver's skill. When within a mile of their stage-house where horses were changed, it was customary for the drivers to blow a horn to announce their arrival, and constant practice with this simple, straight tin horn enabled some drivers to produce as much music out of it as from a key-bugle.

At the first blast of the horn the weary, tired horses knew that their journey was ended, and taught by their drivers to make a display as they approached their stopping place, would quicken their steps until within a few rods of the house when they would spring into a gallop and, guided to the oppose side of the street, would cut a circle with the utmost precision as they whirled up to the door of the Syracuse House.

'Busy Bee' - the Famous Ferry Boat

The "Busy Bee" ready to sail on Cayuga Lake. Courtesy of Bill Hecht

The 'Busy Bee' Ferry Boat on Cayuga Lake

By Richard Palmer

    In the early 19th century a system of turnpikes was developed across New York State. One of these, which was sort of a meandering road from Albany to Cayuga Lake, was known as the Fourth Great Western Turnpike. But unfortunately, the Finger Lakes presented a formidable barrier for opening up this region for settlement and to get from one side of one of the Finger Lakes  to the other could be an arduous journey taking several days. 

   Before the days of railroads and still later well into the era of improved highways, numerous enterprising individuals established ferry boats on the larger Finger Lakes and this greatly assisted in opening up the countryside south of the main turnpike routes and the Erie Canal. Throughout the early 1800s several licenses were granted to individuals by the New York State Legislature, granting them exclusive rights to operate ferries on these lakes . But not too much is known about these early enterprises, other than the fact that one was operated as early enterprises, other than the fact that one was operated as early as 1800 prior to construction of Cayuga Bridge at the north end of Cayuga Lake.

   Most noted and longest-lived of these ferry boats was the "Busy Bee" which was horse and sail powered that ran back and forth between King Ferry on the east side of Cayuga Lake, to Kidder's on the west side. For years it was operated by Captain James Quick. What follows is an account of this vessel written by Wheeler A. Bassett and published in the Interlaken Review, a local newspaper, on December 4, 1951.

Back in the 'eighties on a summer day two men and a youth set out to attend the Auburn Fair. They drove to Kidders Ferry and there embarked on the ferry boat for King's Ferry. At this point they took a train for Auburn.

Jim Quick was running the boat, a tall, lanky, young man, about in his middle twenties, to whom they plied many questions. Seeing a horse on board, they asked, "What is the horse for?" "That is to run the tread power," he said. "When the wind fails we put him on the tread, and that runs the paddle wheels," and, sure enough, coming home at night, there was no wind, so resort was made to the horse to bring them home.

  "I made another trip while you were gone," said Mr. Quick. "A man and his team wanted to come across." "How did you know they wanted to come across?" " I saw the sign out," pointing to a board sign about six feet square, painted white on one side and black on the other. "When the white side is out, that means 'Come over'." That was in June, 1881, to be exact.

The boat proved to be the Polly Ann, the old ferry boat that preceded the Busy Bee. Young Captain Quick was just learning the business, but one would never have known it to see him run the boat that day. Sixty years have passed. Every ferry boat on Cayuga Lake is now extinct. For the first half of that period they throve and performed an almost indispensable service to the public. But inventive man is always seeking something better. Although it travels on land, the automobile, for the last thirty years, seems to have superceded the ferry boat, and thereby romance lost, while speed gained. Interest still persists, however in a certain craft called the Busy Bee, and its captain Jim Quick.

   The Busy Bee is now only a memory, but Captain Quick is still with us. It was our privilege recently to visit him in his little cottage beside Cayuga Lake at Kidders. We found him living alone, for his faithful consort of fifty-nine years passed away three years previously. His mind was clear as ever as we reminisced on many things. He was born on a farm off the road not far from McNeil's Church eighty-seven years ago. His father, Henry Quick, moved to Kidders Ferry in the late 'seventies, where he ran the ferry boat, Polly Ann, for a few years until Jim learned the business.

   "Our main topic was, of course, the Busy Bee. He built her, he said, between his cottage and the lake, a distance of only a few rods. James Bennet, of Sheldrake, an old canal boat builder, was the designer and builder. On April 21, 1886, a license was granted by the Legislature to James V. Quick for twenty years to run a ferry from "the termination of Turnpike Road (King Ferry) to or near the dock or landing place of Myron R. Cole, at Kidders Ferry."

The Busy Bee was equipped for either sail or steam, sixty-feet over all with a seventeen-foot beam; the gunwales were four feet high. She usually came to rest near the steamboat landing, just back of Captain Quick's cottage, with her stern first. The gunwales at this end were let down to rest lightly on the shore so a man or animal could easily walk on board.   The rudder was a long, heavy paddle, detachable by hand. The Captain was captain, skipper, mate and helmsman, all in one.

  "With one hand he adjusted sail, with the other he steered the boat, and if by chance he had to leave his post, chains were at hand to fasten to handle of rudder to hold her on a straight course. The distance across the lake is two miles and a fraction, and the captain once made it by sail in nine minutes, he said. With the horse it took an hour, with steam one-half hour. Fare for crossing was for a single passenger, 25¢; single horse and wagon, 75¢; team and wagon, $1.00. Asked what was his biggest load, he said he once brought over a Quaker funeral party consisting of fourteen horses, ten carriages, and eighty-three people, bound for an old cemetery near Jacksonville.

   "In the cold winter of 1885, the boat froze in fifteen inches of ice. Captain Quick rigged up an ice boat and delivered the mail in three minutes. Genial and accommodating to all, he was liked by everybody. The children loved him for the free rides he gave them. For eighteen years, winter and summer, he met four trains daily, carrying mail and express. At the same time he was Postmaster. An important factor in his life was the summer boarder.

   "Along in the 80's and earlier there was a trend for people to get out of the city into the pure air of the country, especially the lake country. Cole's Hotel, the Cayuga Lake house, and the Sheldrake House, had regular customers year after year. Some brought their children and stayed all summer; husbands came for week ends. Added to these were summer residents like the Leverichs, the Rappleyes, the Taylors. These persons added to the tempo of life all along the lake and, naturally, Captain Quick reaped some of the benefit. He performed their errands, he took out excursion parties, he met them at trains, and, if I were to ask him, I think he would say that life for him then was at high-tide.

   "Nothing is more permanent in this world than change, and to Captain Quick change was bound to come. With the advent of the automobile and good roads business fell off so much he ran the boat only from May 1st to November 1st. Finally, the boat wore out, the Captain said. Expenses went up and business did not warrant costly repairs; for instance, the last mainsail and jib cost $300.00. The gallant boat was finally pushed into her last resting place near the dock—there she lay in plain sight for years after, rotting in the water, mute evidence of an era that was past; but Captain Quick lived on, cheerfully adapting himself to a changed life, while the lake with her ever changing moods and always in sight was to remind him of the conquests he made on her waters with his beloved Busy Bee.

   "Note. May D. Leverich, now Mrs. George K. Hooper, of Pasadena, California, named the Busy Bee. In a letter to Myron W. Bassette, she says she was an interested spectator at the christening, which was performed by Captain Quick's little daughter, Anna, now Mrs. Albert Haviland, Sr. She writes how the Captain held his daughter, then a very little girl, and helped her break the bottle while she murmured in a tearful voice, "Busy Bee." The time was June 1884.

For 18 years, winter and summer, Captain Quick met four passenger trains daily on the Lehigh Valley Railroad, which had lines on both sides of the lake. He recalled he would make as many as eight or nine trips a day during the busy season.

  "The advent of the automobile and improved roads cut into this business and it eventually became apparent that the Busy Bee was obsolete. She made her last trip on June 4, 1914, and was tied up on the north side of Kidder's dock. Eventually, she was stripped of machinery and the hull was allowed to lay at anchor until sinking. Reminiscing about the old days, Captain Quick said that the original Polly Ann was propelled by sail and a treadmill operated by an old grey horse. He said the Busy Bee was actually built by James Bennett of nearby Sheldrake who also built canal boats.

_______

Ithaca Daily News,

Monday, December 13, 1909

Captain Quick Dead.

     ____

Aged Mariner of Kidders Who

Established Ferry Across Lake.

  KIDDERS, N.Y., Dec. 13. - Henry H. Quick, who was said to be the oldest sailor on Cayuga Lake, died yesterday at his home here. He was 84 years if age. Mr. Quick has been ailing for some time, because of his years.

   Captain Quick, as he was known, was one of the pioneer settlers of Seneca County. He had resided at Kidder's for many years and he was known throughout Seneca and Tompkins Counties to a large number of sailors and passengers on the lake. During recent summers he often was called upon by groups of friends to narrate tales of the early days on Cayuga.

   Captain Quick established the ferry between Kidder's and King Ferry. The Busy Bee, which is the name of the present craft, is the name of present craft, is at present the only ferry-boat on the lake.

   Mrs. Quick and three sons survive the aged mariner. One son, Capt. James Quick, is in command of the ferry-boat. 

Munroe House Famous in its Day

The Munroe House was built along the old turnpike - now Route 5 - in the village of Elbridge in 1846-47 by David Pierce for James Munroe. Dickinson Rhoades was the first proprietor. For many years it was a very popular establishment and the center of community life. It burned to the ground on August 3, 1913.

There was more than one 'Cicero Stage'

     The Cicero Stage makes a stop in North Syracuse

By Richard Palmer

   Using the name 'Cicero Stage' is a misnomer as there was at last one or two other horse-drawn vehicles to which this title was applied over the years. The so-called 'winter stage' which was on rummers, is at the bottom of Oneida Lake.

  Franklin B. Chase, in his book "Syracuse and its Environs," published in 1924, wrote:

   "Several old stage lines were put out of business by the suburban trolleys. When, in 1907, the Cicero Stage was wrecked by a trolley car at North Salina and West Willow streets, it was a coach which had been in use close to 70 years. Four horses had given way to two, but the stage driver was still a friend of all those along the route, doing shopping for his patrons, and even banking. In 1905, D.D. Van Alstyne succeeded C.H. Bonsted on this route, and before him there were William Herrick and William Petrie."

    Van Alstyne received three broken ribs in the collision and the streetcar company paid him for damages. The wrecked stage was stored away in a barn in Cicero and a newer vehicle substituted.  A brief news item in the Syracuse Herald on Friday, Feb. 26, 1909, a day before the service ended, noted:

   "The Cicero stage, which has made the trip to and from Syracuse every day except Sunday for many years, is to be discontinued after this week. Many of the village people are loath to have it stop, as it is the only public means of egress from the village. D.D. Van Alstyne, the owner of the stage, will move onto his farm in Bridgeport next week."

   It is unknown why the stage suddenly stopped running at that point since it wasn't until 1912 that trolley service commenced through Cicero to Brewerton. Most likely it was because Van Alstyne decided to become a farmer and saw the trolley would inevitably put the stagecoach out of business.

   The line to South Bay was opened in 1908, but did not pass through Cicero. It ran out what is now South Bay Road. The extension to Cicero and Brewerton left the South Bay line at a junction near Gillette Road.

   Former Cicero Town Historian Lona Flynn alluded to two different stagecoaches in her book, "Cicero Through the Years." She said Van Alstyne took the "summer stage" with him to his farm in Bridgeport where it became a children's playhouse. It was sold at auction in 1923 to Valentine Smith. It was then stored away in a barn which was destroyed by fire on July 29, 1943.

  The "winter stage" was sold to Mason Sweeting in 1919, who used it for ice fishing. When the lake thawed in March, 1920, it sank to the bottom of the lake off Damon's Point. Divers have since retrieved remnants of it. 

  The following article is from the Syracuse Herald of Nov. 1, 1908:

            A Reminder of Old Stagecoach Days

   Sole survivor in all of the United States or all the oldtime stagecoaches whose bugles used to ring out clearly on the highways is a coach which every weekday in the year still makes regular trips to and from Syracuse. Full half a century old, its sides worn and battered by time, but still some of the faded glories one sees depicted in the old colored coaching print, the Cicero stage still bowls along the old plank road. But only two horses draw it, instead of four as in days of yore, and the bugle with which the driver used to wake the echoes is now silent.

   One of the oddest of contrasts is presented almost every day in the city streets when the old Cicero stagecoach halts beside the railroad tracks to let a train pass. From the upholstered seats of the Pullman cars the passengers can look out and see a vehicle like those few have seen outside outside of picture books - its rounded, weather-beaten body hung on high wheels, the top laden with merchandise, and in the rear its old fashioned "boot." And if the shades of passengers who used to bowl along in the Cicero stagecoach occasionally take a ride in it again - as one can imagine they may - they must stand amazed to see the modern stagecoaches, drawn by a monster locomotive and with passengers dining luxuriously from linen covered tables or taking their ease in leather seats. Even more striking is the contrast that the old stagecoach presents by the side of one of the big "limiteds" that speed along the third rail Oneida electric road.

                               A Stage Seventy Years Old

   But in the face of all these modern ways of conveyance the driver of the Cicero stage clings to the old vehicle and does a good business. The present owner and driver is D.D. Van Alstyne, who has had the route only three years. A year ago, while driving a stage even older than the one now in use, his turnout was struck at North Salina and Willow streets by a Rapid Transit car and so badly damaged that it had to be retired from service. Van Alstyne got three broken ribs and damages from the company. 

    In a barn in Cicero now lies this old stagecoach, which is at least seventy years old. The one now in use had been used as a substitute, and when the old one was disabled it was put on as the regular stage. A relic that some historical society should have is the old stage which is reposing in the Cicero barn, covered with cobwebs and dust. For seventy years - not missing a weekday save in the winter, when its place was taken by a sleigh stage - it plodded along the plank road until one year ago. All that it needs now is a few repairs to put into condition for active service, and it may be brought out some day to complete at least a century on the highway.

                                     Runs Errands for Patrons

      A Sunday Herald man found Van Alstyne at a livery stable in Willow street, where the old stage is stored while in the city. Without much of the old-time flourish that used to attend the daily arrival of a stagecoach had drawn up after its morning trip from Cicero and North Syracuse. The stable itself looks old-fashioned enough to be a fitting storage place for the stage. It seems to be patronized by farmers who come town on business, and their democrat wagons were packed around in the little court yard.

    "Yes, I have a lot of errands to attend to," said the driver, as he busted himself in removing packages from the top and the boot. "There's $300 given me to bank," he said. "I bank money and do all sorts of things for the folks along my route, but I've never been in a 'hold up' yet."

   Indeed, the driver is known to every man, woman and child along the way and they trust him with all sorts of errands. He carries their packages and delivers them to all parts of the city. He even does shopping for his patrons. Cicero thinks him an adept in matching shades of ribbons. He brings milk to town and he carries groceries, machinery and merchandise.

                                    The Old-Time Drivers

   Asked for information about the history of the stage route, the driver proved that he knows something about it, even though he bought the route and the old stages only three years ago. His predecessor as driver and owner, he said, was C.H. Bonsted, who now runs a livery stable in this city. William Herrick, who after quitting the service, was an Assemblyman and a Supervisor and is now in charge of a toll house on the Cicero plank road, was Bonsted's predecessor. Before Herrick the owner was William Petrie. By dint of faithful service in rain and sunshine Petrie had saved about $1,000 earned with the old stagecoach. About 17 years ago the bank in which he kept it failed, and afterward the driver got only 27 cents on the dollar. 

   The succession of owners and drivers before these Driver Van Alstyne does not know. The man who started the line 70 years ago was a Mr. Hanchett, he believed.  

    In those days the Cicero stage arrived and departed from Central Square, running as far as Brewerton, and its coming and going was an event. Four horses drew it then - spanking horses that were admired all the way from Syracuse to Brewerton - and the progress of the coach was marked by bugle notes. Previous to the building of the canals and railroads stagecoaches furnished the only mode of conveyances, hereabouts. With their horns blowing and laden with passengers, they bowled along the Onondaga county turnpike, sometimes 50 or 60 of them traversing a single one of the main highways in a day. For years the mails were carried by the coaches between Albany and Buffalo. When there was a heavy load of passengers the coaches sometimes used six horses.

                                   Driver a Man of Consequence.

    Not the least of these coaches was the Cicero stage, now retired, and a driver was a man of consequence, as much looked up to by small boys and even grown-ups as the captain of an ocean liner is today. The four horses were urged with cracking whip to their best speed, and on most stages running through this county, they were changed at frequent intervals. Because of the comparatively short distance traversed by the Cicero coach it is probable that changes were not made on the road.

   Since that time without interruption one or the other of the old coaches has made the daily trip. Until about a year ago it used to carry the United Staes mails, but this service has been discontinued. The stage recently retired used sometimes to carry 35 or 40 passengers, but the largest number the one new used has ever accommodated is 21.

    "And a good many passengers travel with me still," said the driver. "Business is pretty good." Mr. Van Alstyne announced that he has long thought of taking the old stagecoach on a trip across the country. "If I go," he said, "I shall use three horses instead of two and take the whole family along. This is the only old-time stagecoach in active service now in America, so far as I know, and I believe that besides having a fine trip I would be able to sell enough pictures of the stage along the way to pay expenses."

                                Looks Like a Western Coach.

    The coach now runs only from Cicero, leaving at 8 o'clock in the morning and reaching Syracuse at about 10 o'clock. Returning, it leaves the Onondaga hotel in North Salina street at 3 o'clock P.M. The vehicle The vehicle most resembles the old western stagecoaches that Buffalo Bill carries to be held up at each performance by yelling Indians. The drab, light yellow and black paint on the outside has almost disappeared with the wear of time.

    Within the coach there are cross-seats for passengers and the sides covered with carpet. In front is a bell and with this, passengers by pulling a cord that runs along the roof, signal the driver when they wish to alight "Cicero and Syracuse - United States Mail" is lettered in black on the outside. The boot in the rear is covered with a faded canvas to protect the freight carried there from rain and snow. 

   Stage lines still connect many of the nearby towns with Syracuse, but the Cicero stage is the only old-timer now in use. Modern covered wagons are employed on the other lines.   

Syracuse Evening Chronicle

February 18, 1854

Stage Driver Froze to Death in Camillus

        Stagecoach drivers had it rough in the winter.

       A Stagecoach Driver Froze to Death in Camillus

                  [Syracuse Herald, August 21, 1898]

    Mr. Myron C. Merriman was born in Elbridge on the old turnpike road, which is known in the cities and villages of the state as Genesee  Street, and has lived on it all his life. The old states which were of the thorough-brace patter, were very popular in those days and were named after notable cities or events.

    The line-stage "Telegraph," which thundered along East and West Genesee Street over the turnpike was driven ten miles an hour and changed horses every ten miles. The packet boats on the canal were patronized by a great many people, and were comfortable and luxurious affairs for those days, but their speed was to slow, and in consequence those people who could afford to patronize the line of stages did so to the last.

    Mr. Merriman relates an incident which occurred between this city and Camillus, which will be remembered by the octogenarians of the county, fir it was the talk of this section of the state for a long time. Between Syracuse and Camillus there is a long, high hill, which in the winter time is believed to be about the coldest spot in the state. On a bitter cold winter's day a driver of a line stage actually froze to death while driving over this hill. 

   The horses drawing the stage went down the hill, and, as was their custom, stopped before the tavern at Camillus. The driver was found seated on the box frozen stiff, and stone dead, with the reins clasped in his hands as natural as life.

    The stage drivers of those days were great characters and were possessed of a vast fund of information and gossip, and it was the height of a passenger's ambition to get a seat on the box, where he could be entertained by the driver, who would while away the tedious hours of a long journey with story and anecdote. There was good wheeling for the old stagecoaches along the turnpike in this section of the state, for the road bed was mostly gravel,  but east of here and west of Skaneateles the road was hard and accidents were of frequent occurrence.

    Jason Woodruff, afterward Mayor of the city of Syracuse, was originally a stage driver and drove the stage "Governor."  When he did his inaugural address at the City Hall, Mayor Woodruff stated that the first time that he ever came to Syracuse he held the reins of the government in his hands. 

   Genesee Street, along which the old stages used to run, really is the longest street in the world. It starts from Albany and runs through the state to Buffalo.  It is Genesee Street in all the cities and villages through which it runs, and the Genesee turnpike through the country intervening, and was the old stage route for 300 miles.