Freighting on the Great Western Turnpike

The old Great Western Turnpike was much different than today's Route 20. What can now be traveled in a few hours took days by stagecoach and wagon.

  (From: The Frontiersmen of New York by Jeptha Williams (Albany), 1883) Vol. 1, P. 359)

  The Great Western Turnpike.-- Alonzo Crosby assured the writer in 1851, that he entered the employ of the Great Western Turnpike Company in 1812, and continued the superintendence of the road from Albany to Cherry Valley for 36 years. Of course, he became familiar with every rod of ground in the 52 miles. On the road, at any early period, were the following in-keepers, whom he remembered from Albany westward: Two miles out was a Capron; in Guilderland, two miles further, a McGown, well known; half a mile above were George Brown and Frederick Follock; three miles above Brown were a Sloan and a Batterman, the latter at the Glass House, eight miles from Albany.

  Among the teamsters of those large wagons, remembered on the Great Western Turnpike, were Rosekrans, three; Lloyd, two; Artcher, four. Michael Artcher, afterwards a merchant in Albany, and sheriff or the county, John now living in Albany, aged 82 years. Humphrey, three. At this period John Humphrey kept tavern in Washington street, where, Loucks, a successor, kept for many years.        This old house was torn down in 1851. Robert Hunter, called Bob, was a well known teamster. Waite and Loren Chapin, brothers, Jess and Henry Greene, brothers, and Daniel Clark, all lived in the town of Winfield, and drove their own teams, consisting of from five to eight horses each. 

  They usually carried through freight between Albany and Buffalo. The Chapins, as also others on the road, had tight boxes, in which wheat could be carried in bulk, the freight on which, it is believed, was at one time one dollar a bushel. Another well known teamster on this road was Peter P. Fiero. Tom, a clever black fellow, who usually drove six large black horses, was also well remembered. He had the misfortune to kill two men at different times, by his whiffle-trees catching and upsetting their wagons; the first in Duanesburgh, and the other in Guilderland. When the second accident happened, Tom, who thought a strange fatality attended his avocation, quit the business, but no blame attached to him. 

  From two to ten of those large wagons were sometimes seen in company, and some of them carrying from three to four tons. The horses were usually fat. Some carried a jackscrew for raising an axle to take off a wheel; but this was seldom done, as a hole for pouring in tar or grease was made for the purpose. In ascending hills the wagon was blocked at intervals with a stone, carried by the teamster behind it. After those mammoth wagons were supplanted by the Erie canal, several of them might have been seen about the old Loucks tavern, as also at Paul Clark's inn, in the southwest part of Albany, where some of them rotted down.

Many interesting events transpired on this turnpike. Here is one of them: One Wilbur, a stage driver, above Cook's tavern in Springfield, had the misfortune to ride over and kill a deaf man, who kept in the road until stricken down. The driver was probably not to blame, but the matter affected him so seriously that he quit staging forever. This happened about 1820.

Stagecoach travel recounted

From: History of Livingston County, N.Y. by C.L. Doty (Geneseo) 1876

P. 359. In 1823 P. R. Bowman was running a line of stages from Canandaigua to Warsaw by way of Moscow. In the Livingston Gazette of July 3d of that year he gives notice that thereafter he "would continue his line once in each week. He will leave Moscow on Saturday afternoon and immediately after his arrival from Canandaigua, and return from Warsaw on Monday evening, and on Tuesday morning start again for Canandaigua." Between Moscow and Canandaigua the stages were run twice each week, passing through Geneseo, Livonia, Richmond and Bristol. In connection with this line stages were run from Canandaigua to Palmyra, and (via Geneva) to Lyons, connecting with the Erie Canal.

P. 373. In the fall of 1824 the mail stage between Geneseo and Rochester ran three times a week each way, leaving the former place Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays, at half past six o'clock in the morning. In April, 1825, E. Fisk advertises that the "Rochester stage will in the future leave Geneseo every morning at half past five o'clock," and the common wagons before in use were exchanged for "elegant coaches." In December of the same year the the stage was advertised to leave Geneseo for Dansville, Bath and Olean Sundays and Wednesdays, on the arrival of the Rochester stage.

The line to Rochester intersected the east and west line at Avon, thus giving a daily communication with Rochester, Canandaigua and Batavia, and points east and west. "for this accommodation the public are indebted to the enterprise of Mr. E. Fisk, whose perseverance has, from the use of a common wagon which lately passed between this place and Rochester once a week, established a daily line of elegant coaches."

P. 417. A daily line of of stages gave comparatively easy communication with all points, and carried the mails with regularity and despatch. A line from Rochester to Bath, accommodating all the principal places in this county, and making connection with a Philadelphia and Washington line, and also with lines running to Buffalo, LLewiston, Utica and Albany; while the Genesee Valley Canal, now completed to Mount Morris, and rapidly approaching a finished state on its upper sections, afforded ample and cheap facilities for transporting the abundant products of the Valley.

P. 509. The year 1810 was memorable as the one in which a stage commenced running through the place, conveying the mail. This stage started from Canandaigua on Monday morning at 6 o'clock, and passing through this place, (Geneseo) Batavia and Buffalo, reaching Niagara on Thursday at 3 o'clock in the morning. The fare was six cents per mile. Six years afterward a tri-weekly stage ran west as far as Batavia. Thence to Buffalo an open wagon went whenever there were passengers.

Stagecoach Travel Years Ago

(From: Proceedings of the Albany Institute, Fourth Field Meeting at Cherry Valley, Oct. 18, 1870, pp. 191-193)

  Mr. Joel Munsell favored the audience with the following interesting account of the stage-coach business, as practiced years ago in this state:

    In the short time that remains for the scientific gentlemen to entertain us with the discoveries they have made, and after what has been so well said already of this interesting locality, I will merely allude to Cherry Valley and its former relations to Albany. In the latter part of the last century it was a far distant town. It was reached only by private conveyances, and with much difficulty on account of the badness of the roads and want of traveling facilities.

    In 1792, a sort of stage was established to run from Albany to Whitestown, near Utica, which performed the route once a fortnight. Some enterprising persons residing in the Genesee country, which was the great west of that day, established another to meet the one at Whitestown. The next year a stage undertook to carry passengers from Albany to Canajoharie, through Cherry Valley to Cooperstown. The success of these enterprises emboldened others, and it is found that oue John Hudson, inn-keeper at Schenectady, absolutely undertook to run a stage three times a week between Albany and Schenectady.

   A still bolder scheme was undertaken, to run a line of stages between Albany and the Connecticut river valley at Northampton. Before this, the mountain was only crossed on foot or on horseback — the paper for the Albany newspapers being all brought over by the latter mode of conveyance. It was announced in 1794, that a line of communication, by stage, had been opened from Portland, in Maine, to Whitestown, in the western part of the state of New York. When we consider that Whitestown is in the vicinity of Utica, we can better conceive what travel by stage was hereabout in its infancy, and where it was supposed the sun went down.

   In 1799, the roads had been so far improved that a stage went from near Utica to arrive at Geneva the third day, with four passengers. Cayuga Bridge, one and a quarter miles in length, the longest in America, was commenced this year, by the Manhattan Company of New York. The Cherry Valley turnpike was incorporated the same year, beginning at the house of John Weaver in Watervliet. Turnpikes now came into vogue, in which capitalists eagerly invested. They were a great improvement over the roads in previous use, but never afforded profitable returns.

   The old stages were a great phenomenon as they reached one point after another, until they connected with Buffalo. No doubt many will recollect with what interest the villagers gathered at the taverns on the great lines to witness the arrival of the stage at the principal halting places, and with what a magnificent flourish the driver came into town, cracking his whip and lashing his steeds to their utmost speed, and fetching up at the hotel with a turn that struck the spectators with awe and amazement!

   By continued gradations Albany became the centre of a large amount of stage travel, which increased from year to year until it engrossed a larger amount of capital than any other enterprise. Stage routes diverged

to every point of the compass, and its streets were thronged with vehicles arriving and departing, sometimes in long processions, at every hour of the day and night. The firms of Thorp & Sprague and of Baker & Walbridge, owned an incredible number of stage coaches, which were subsequently laid up on the completion of the rail roads, and many hundreds of worn out horses went to their rest. The glory of that business has departed; its tired horses and tired men have been superseded by the iron horse that never tires.

   In 1848, barely a score of years ago, the stages that ran out of Albany were all gone, but the solitary line which occupied the route over the Cherry Valley turnpike, terminating at Syracuse, through in twenty-four hours, to accommodate such persons as halted at by-places, or were doubtful of their entire personal safety behind a locomotive. But the iron horse has at length reached Cherry Valley, and now, instead of a tedious ride of a whole day, jolting over bad roads, it is a pleasant trip of four hours, in which the sentimental traveler may ruminate recumbently on the rapidity of riding by rail, the satisfaction of scanning scenery summarily, and the jollity of journeying jauntily without jolting! It brings the savants of Albany to explore its fields and forests, its rocks and streams, and to open an acquaintance with its citizens, who have become by its instrumentality, as it were, next door neighbors."

                  ______

(From: The Centennial History of the Town of Marcellus by Israel Parsons, M.D. Marcellus, 1878)

(From: The Centennial History of the Town of Marcellus by Israel Parsons, M.D. Marcellus, 1878)

(P. 26)    Before the time of railroads, the running of stages formed quite an important business. These villages along the East and West road, were wonderfully enlivened day by day, by the arrival (P.27) and departure of he stage-coaches drawn by four horses.

    As the states were descending these hills to enter the village, the drivers would make the valley reverberate with the music from their tin horns. They became amateurs in the art, and vied with each other in the use of the horn. Their object in blowing their horn was to notify the drivers at the stables to make ready their horses for a change;  and the landlord that the meals might be in order for the passengers.

    In those days brakes had not been introduced on the stages; consequently they descended these hills with quite a velocity.

    The horses used were of the first quality, athletic, sure-footed and strong. Each stage weighed 2,200 pounds, and carried 11 passengers with their baggage, which was moderate compared with the individual baggage of the present day.

   Two coaches were run regularly each way every day, beside extras, which were frequent to meet the demands of travel.

    The class of young men who turned their attention to stage driving were natural lovers of horses, and as a result of this, became very skillful in the management of their horses, taught them many tricks, and to perform feats.

   Each horse had a name, and when called by that name, obeyed  the mandates of its master. The driver's whip was composed of a stalk from four to five feet long, to which was attached a lash from 10 to 12 feet in length, and on the end of the lash a nicely braided silk cracker.  It was a great piece of dexterity to hold the reins of four horses, and so wield the whip as to give a smart crack with it; or, in coming down one of these hills, to lay the whip upon the top of the stage and blow the horn, holding the four reins in one hand, with the horses under full speed.

   These drivers were usually daring men, but very energetic and faithful to the performance of their duties. To their good judgment, skill and energy, multitudes have owed the safety of life and limb. 

   (P. 28) Hiram Reed of this village relates an instance which well displays the combination of these qualities in one driver. When a lad, at school in Skaneateles, he and a fellow school-mate wishing to go to Auburn by stage, secured seats outside with the driver. As they were descending the steepest hill between the two places (New Seneca Turnpike), one of the pole straps broke; (two straps heading from the front end of the pole to the collars of the wheel horses, and with which they hold back the stage) the driver ready for the emergency said to Reed and his mate, "hold on boys" and at once laid the whip on to his horses, so that they went with "full speed" down the remainder of the hill in perfect safety - passengers, coach and horses unharmed! Mr. Reed says that he never after sought a ride on the outside of a stage. The driver secured the safety of the stage through the leaders making a constant draft on the pole to which hey were directly attached. But amidst all the confusion he did not forget the boys.

   Of the large number of stage drivers who used to ride over these hills, and contend with darkness, storm and tempest; but one is left among us, and that is Adolphus Newton. Much of my information on this subject was derived from him. He commenced the arduous duties of stage driving in 1819, when but 16 years of age, and continued 11 years. Nothing delights him more at his present age, than to sit down before a good listener, and recount the adventures of his youthful years in this department of life. He says that at one period he drove what was called the Telegraph. This was a stage with a limited number of passengers, and that carried the mail. It ran eight miles an hour, when the roads were good.

    They changed horses every 10 miles, but one driver went through from Auburn to Manlius, a distance of 33 miles. He says that on some occasions of carrying important personages, he has made the distance in three hours. Once he had for passengers Gov. Seward and Black-Hawk, and drove 10 miles in 50 minutes. It was a rule to give such men, what was called (P.29) "extra rides." Another load consisted of Gen. Scott, Gov. Marcy and Martin Van Buren.

   There were three periods during Mr. Newton's driving, when opposition lines were placed upon this road; only one of these proved to be a serious annoyance to the Sherwood line. This was what was called the Pioneer. It was well stocked with first-class horses and line coached, but with inexperienced drivers. Fast driving became a natural consequence to competition in staging. This proved the value of experience ind rivers, as well as in all other situations of trust connected with responsibility. For in making quick time, there is called into requisition in the management of horses, which is based only on successful experience, as to when to drive fast, when slow, and when to drive moderately. Also to the care given to the horses at the end of each route, in feeding, watering and exposure.  

    The result was that the old drivers proved themselves heros in the strife. For although in the frequent racing of stages to which they were subject, the Pioneer was fully their equal; yet soon the new line showed impaired horses, the consequence of indiscretion in driving and want of care  at the stables; and this gave rise to such a monstrous relay of horses, that it finally broke down the opposition line.

     As "variety is the spice of life" and competition the life of business; so in this racing of the stages, the inhabitants of this whole region were no idle spectators, but their every day 'hum-drum life" was spiced by the daily news of hair breadth escapes, and the Jehu-feats of the drivers; and, as in these days, so then, quick time increased the amount of travel.

    Stage were entirely removed from this route in December, 1837, when the cars (on the Auburn & Syracuse Railroad) were first run by horse power, and this was changed to steam power in June, 1839.

   The great stage proprietor, whose talents were as celebrated in that day for staging, as Commodore Vanderbilt's have since been for railroading, was Isaac Sherwood. His residence (P. 30) was in Skaneateles, and he is said to have weighed 380 pounds. His successor was his son John Milton, who was almost as ponderous as his father, and as wonderful a stage proprietor.

   The stage fare was five cents a mile, so that in the winter season a trip from this place to New York and back cost $30. But the people traveled principally in their own conveyances. 

    

   

Riding the Stage to Albany

Cazenovia Republican, May 24, 1906

       The Stage Coach Ride

                   ____

Something Quite Unknown to 

     The Present Generation

                  ____

An Albany Trip in the Pleasanter

Part of the Year was an Agreeable

Experience. - The Driver a Product

of the Times.

                ____

                  (From Cazenovia Republican, May 24, 1906)

   The old fashioned thorough-brace stagecoach, which used to rumble through Cazenovia and over the Nelson hills, was a familiar object in the earliest days of the village, but is quite unknown to the present generation.

  The route followed by this stage line was over the Great Western series of turnpikes, from Albany to Syracuse, with daily service each way, and was, with a similar line on the Genesee road, the only public means of conveyance between these places. The coaches wee quite comfortable, and afforded accommodations for twelve or fifteen passengers. They were drawn by four and sometimes six horses, with relays about every twenty miles; and covered the entire distance of the route, within twenty-four hours.

    This line commenced operations in 1817, shortly after the opening of the Cherry Valley end of the road, and was an extension of the Albany and Cobleskill stage line. The route followed one of the two principal thoroughfares leading westward across the state, and was crowded with general traffic through which the coaches made their way.

  A trip over this route occupied a night and parts of two days, passengers leaving Syracuse at ten in the morning reaching Albany before noon the following day. Not much sleep was obtained during the night ride and not much effort was made to obtain it. The passengers generally took this discomfort good naturedly, however, and made the best of the situation.

  Wayside inns were scattered all along the road at frequent intervals, and stops were made at stated points for meals and change of horses. At these inns the traveler was cordially welcomed, and in the colder months, greeted by a cheering fire of blazing logs, crackling in the old-fashioned Franklin fire place, and generously dispensing its glow and warmth. Here also was found an old style, but genuine, country hospitality, accompanied by such physical comforts as hunger or thirst might require.

  The hot flip-irons were in the glowing coals ready to impart just the right temperature and flavor to the foaming mug of ale or cider. On the counter of he small, but well stocked bar was a steaming bowl of hot Tom and Jerry (a popular old time drink not often found now-a-days,) ready and available for immediate use. These timely and agreeable night refreshments, made the occasional stops not at all uninteresting, and generally provoked the inquiry of the driver, as to the distance to the next stopping place. So the night wore on, and the morning sun found the stage well on its way towards Albany.

  In the summer time this trip was most enjoyable. The route lay through a hilly and picturesque section of the State, and many pleasant village and pleasing rural scene. At many points on the road, the passing stage was the event of the day and the driver's horn announcing its approach, never failed to bring to open door and swinging gate, the farmer's wife and children to greet the coming coach.

The stage driver of that period was a product o the times and of his environment. He was often an interesting character, and may be said to have been in a  class by himself, his counterpart not being easily found in any other occupation. 

  Driving over his allotted route, by day and by night, in the summer and winter, in all sorts of weather, though mud and snow in the colder months, inured to hardship, skilled in the handling of the reins, careful of his team, and ambitious to deliver his passengers safely at the end of journey, were  his distinguishing qualities, and tended to the development of individual traits peculiar to himself.

  In recalling the names of these old-time drivers it is quite possible that some of the earlier residents of Cazenovia and Nelson, have not yet quite forgotten Jerry White and Phorn Church, is fairly representative of the class to which reference is here made. Both of these men were experienced and careful drivers, and in their day, were well known along the line, and in many ways were unique characters. They were long in the service, and could be counted on in darkest night or wildest storm to bring their coaches through on scheduled time. They knew every inch of the rod over which they drove, and never failed to deliver their passengers safely at end of journey.

  An Albany trip on one of these coaches was in the pleasanter part of the year, was an agreeable experience. There a seat on the box of the stage was generally preferred to the more limited room inside and the passenger deemed himself quite fortunate , who secured one by the side of the driver, especially if the driver was our old friend, Jerry White. On such occasions Jerry's confidence was easily secured; his fund of anecdote and story was large, and easily drawn upon. He knew something interesting about every mile of road, and needed little encouragement to tell it. His stories were sure to be properly sent up and embellished, and he could tell of more things that never happened than any other driver between Albany and Syracuse. At any rate he was always entertaining and the traveler who sat on the box with Jerry was not likely to soon forget his quaint and humorous personality.

  The last stop of the coach on its way to Albany was at McGowan's tavern some eight miles from the city. Here the final change of horses was made and passengers given a brief opportunity to get acquainted with Dutch hospitality as dispensed at this famous Inn. Whoever has stopped once at McGowan's will easily remember the mammoth fireplace, the odd furniture and surroundings of the inn and the genial old Dutchman who ran it. A further short ride of an hour and Albany was in view.

  The stage business on this route, as well as on most others in this State, was at its best from 1820 to 1845. Its rapid decline thereafter was owing to the packet lines on the newly finished Erie Canal, and later, to the competition of the New York Central Railroad system, which soon controlled the bulk of the passenger business. This monopoly administered a finishing blow to the stages, and soon after, to the packets as well.

  The old-fashioned, easy-going stagecoach belongs to another age, or to a newer country, and is no longer seen on its once familiar routes. But the turnpike over which it ran still exists, and wends its way among the same pleasant country. The extensive business, however, which formerly crowded that thoroughfare, has founded other avenues, and is not likely to return, and the wayside inns,for the post part, are also things of the past.  he music of the stage horn and the crack of the driver's whip, no longer awaken the sleeping villages, and country life along the road, seems to have lost something of its old-time charm, for which, the more rapid methods of modern life, does not fully recompense. 

   New York, May 1.                                                       C.S.T.

Debating Issues Over Stagecoach Travel

Annals of Albany by Joel Munsell, Vol.8 pp 86-87, Albany, 1857

                (The state of things in 1825)

  A writer in the papers signing himself A Traveller, complained of the unreasonable fare charged by the proprietors of the stages between Albany and Buffalo; the selection of indifferent and exorbitant houses of entertainment, and the refusal to permit passengers to stop at such other houses as they might prefer. 

  The proprietors in their reply maintained, that on no public road in the United States was the fare so low as on this; that in the New England states it was from seven to eight cents a mile, and west and south of Philadelphia from eight to ten; that before the opposition line came on between Canandaigua and Buffalo in 1820, the fare on that route was seven cents a mile; it was then reduced to two cents, and when the opposition hauled off, it was raised to five cents.   

   This was the only regular and established line of stages which had been maintained from the day when the route consisted only of an Indian path, to its present improved state. It was still difficult to keep up that part of the route between Canandaigua and Buffalo, the passengers for three years past not averaging more than three a day each way, and that a line of post coaches would not have been attempted there at all but for the assistance afforded by the eastern proprietors in order to connect and complete the entire line.

   The western section did not pay the daily expenses of maintaining it; that owing to increased travel during the past two years in boats of the middle section of the Erie canal, and from other causes, there had been a large number of passengers in stages between Albany and Utica, while between Utica and Canandaigua there had been less than four a day each way, and the Cherry Valley line "had been reduced to a mere skeleton."

  The whole number of of passengers between Albany and Utica in two daily stages, do not average six passengers in a stage each way; between Utica and Canandaigua less four each way in a daily stage; and between Canandaigua and Buffalo less than three each way, and the mail was carried as low as in any other part of the United States, and much lower than in most parts of it. About four hundred horses and a proportionate number of post coaches, were employed by this line, as the canal took a majority of the passengers in the summer west of Utica, the whole receipts very little exceeded the expenses. Without the mail, they would be unable to keep up the entire line, with new oppositions every year chopping in upon the most productive parts of the route. As to the exorbitant charges at houses of entertainment, they say that at Utica and all places west, the charges for meals was 37 1/2 cents, and 12 1/2 cents for lodging.

Development of Stagecoach Lines

From: Annals of Albany by Joel Munsell, Vol. 1. Albany, 1850

(Click mouse on images to enlarge)

Tavern Days on Cherry Valley Turnpike

For many years Granley Case was the proprietor of the Tog Hill Tavern east of Nelson. For generations his name still lingered in the memory of the old timers. This was a famous social center in days long gone, with a ball room where people from all around held dances and banquets.It still stands, on the north side of Route 20, just east of Nelson. But essentially this was a drover's inn during turnpike days.

                                 _____

Utica Saturday Globe, July 19, 1919

The Cherry Valley Turnpike

by Walter H. Main

One of the Notable Old Highways of Another Day, the Channel of Commerce for Western New York before the Erie Canal, a Road whose Romance of Trade is Partly Revealed in the Old Taverns that Linger by the Wayside.

  Those who travel it may look on the landmarks of the early days, when the country was new, when the vigor of the early settlers made New York the leading State in the Union, the landmarks of the old commerce, the landmarks by the side of the road, the taverns of the Cherry Valley Turnpike.

   No, these weather-beaten old taverns along the Cherry Valley Turnpike don't yield the sort of poetry we learned in the Tales of a Wayside Inn. These are wayside inns, but they tell of no Paul Revere, they have no “Sicilian's Tale,” no “Saga of King Olaf”. So far as legend reveals it, they had no Musician who used to sit dreamily beside the roaring fire, and draw sweet fancies from his violin.

   When you prowl through the damp, disused, deserted ballroom of one of these old taverns, and the wide boards creak beneath your tread, they stir up a different sort of story. The shades that you may disturb in the dark corners have a different sort of poetry about them, the rude poetry and romance with which time at length softens the harsh lines that fell to the pioneer.

 True, they tell you little that is fanciful but they tell you most cheerfully about the wonderful whisky that used to flow, about the barrels and barrels of it, about the loads that used to require six, eight or ten horses to haul the corn juice to Albany.

 A garrulous shade of the past will jeer out at you from the dim corner of the tap room in one of those old taverns, and with tears in his voice will drone out to you this tale:

The Days of Whiskey, Drovers and Teamsters

   "Why, say, mister, you orter seen them loads of whiskey! I hearn tell about a dry spell that's hit the country, when nobody da'st have whiskey, ner much of anything else. I'm glad I ain't alive to suffer."

   Drawing a thin, withered hand over his parched lips, the shade drones on.

  "Why, mister, there uster be three stills up here at Cazenovy. Think of it! Three stills. And that uster be real whisky, too! No such stuff as they've been sellin’ sence I ceased travelin' this 'ere rud" — he meant "road."

  "Up at Marcellus was another still. Oh, they was lots of stills out this way and they uster draw it all to Albany."

  "This was a great pike in them days," cackled the dry old shade from the dim corner of the tap room. "This was part of the Great Western Turnpike, straight road from Albany to Buffalo. The Cherry Valley part of it ran up through here to Syracuse. Albany to Syracuse that's it, straight's a ruler can draw the line, up through Schoharie county, through Sharon Springs - oh, it was a great old rud."

   If only you find a bottle of spirits to set before the dry old shade there in the corner of the tap room he would cackle on forever about the good old days of the drovers and teamsters.

   A tavern, you understand, springs up where there is a natural stopping place for teams — at the top of the hill, at the forks of a road at a watering place, at the natural end of a day's journey. No landlord would set up a caravansary at his own sweet will. He chooses some natural stopping place.

   The Old Stage Tavern at the top of the hill near Morrisville, owes its position to the fact that it was the natural place to stop and rest the team, and to "bait" the horses after a long pull up the hill from Nelson. Always teams were loaded going toward Albany.

Trade From Transplanted Yankees

   This string of taverns which you may see this day along the Cherry Valley Turnpike, these weather-beaten old frame structures long since turned into farmhouses, those were the natural development from the overland trade which grew from the pioneering of the post-Revolutionary period. All western New York poured its traffic over this road.

It was after we had made peace with Britain, after the peace was signed in 1783 that the great migration began out of Connecticut. Up through Albany came the great tide of migration. They followed the westward way. The hand that beckoned on the restless Yankees was always the prospect of bettering their condition. Already the Connecticut country was too thickly populated. The venturesome young fellows loaded their brides, their pots and kettles, their heritage of mahogany furniture and grandfathers' clocks into their ox-carts? or into sleighs and set out, whistling a merry tune, with their axes over their shoulder.

   What the Dutch thought of those restless Yankees you may read in Washington Irving's Knickerbocker History of New York. He describes them as a long, lank, lean, hungry lot, crowded if any other family lived nearer than three miles, perpetually surrounded by a large squad of children, always clearing a patch in the woods, putting up a log cabin, dwelling there a spell, and always moving on into a new wilderness, of such was the population composed which entered the Promised Land of central New York at the dawning of the 19th century.

   You may see their marks in the names of the towns, like Hartford, Canaan and the rest. You see the reflection of the old classical learning of the east and such names as Syracuse, Scipio, Marcellus, Virgil, Cato, Pompey.

   This was the sturdy population which took up the new land whose great market was Albany, where the sloops from New York drew up and were laden. This was the population that produced great harvests of grain, great droves of cattle, great hogsheads of whisky, hundreds and thousands of turkeys and hogs and it was the going of this produce to tidewater that made the Cherry Valley Turnpike. Out of this traffic sprang the taverns that stand today over the memories of the past, while the present whirls by on rubber tires, unmindful of the commerce which used to toil slowly in a steady stream over this great highway.

   Three ancient hostelries within a few miles on the Cherry Valley Turnpike are the old Stage Tavern, Tog Hill Tavern, and the Nelson Tavern. Tog Hill Tavern is a little way west from Morrisville. It was owned in its heyday by Granley Case, and great were the doings in its famous ballroom. The elite for miles around used to find their social pleasures there. It is said really to have been the abode of fashion in its day. Granley Case had two sons, John and Dwight, who sold the property in 1862 to Samuel L. Jones, who with his heirs has used it for a farmhouse.

Three Coaches a Day

   The old Stage Tavern at the top of the hill near Morrisville was one of the best known and most patronized in the days of the turnpike traffic. When you consider that in those days this was the great direct route east and west, and that three stagecoaches each way rolled over this turnpike each day, you may know something of what the trade must have been about at this great square frame building. While the four horses of each stage were being fed, or while they were being changed for other teams, the wayfarers would unlumber themselves from the ponderous leather-springed stages and regale themselves with mine host's dinner.

  Rather more pretentious than a tavern was the Exchange Hotel at Morrisville. The village was for well nigh a century the county seat of Madison County. The Court House is still standing in which the forensic leaders of the day used to try their oratorical powers on rustic juries. The jail is there yet where prisoners used to repine. They can still point out to you the iron weight which in its day jerked into eternity on the gallows many a criminal. They can point out to you a swamp not far away that escaped prisoners hid themselves.

Abode of the Legal Lights

   But as to the Exchange Hotel his was a palatial caravansary in its day. Here during court week the judicial and legal lights of the county, and sometimes from other sections, used to gather. Before the days of telephones litigants had to assemble in the open days of court and tarry until their case was called. Principals, attorneys and witnesses, all had to come to court, and wait and wait for days. While they waited they stayed at the Exchange Hotel. Within a year this structure has been razed but its picture has been preserved.

   It was a capacious, rambling old hotel, capped with a square cupola. On the walls of the cupola you might until a year have read names of legal lights of past generations. Most of these names are forgotten now, but in their day stood for all that was legally great in the legal profession.

 Local legend has it that nights and Sundays the gentlemen of the law were wont to assemble in the cupola to play poker. With the trap door shut, who could prove that they were not up there to view the scenery?

Road Unfrequented for Years

   Until the days of good roads and automobiles, for three-quarters of a century, the Cherry Valley Turnpike wound its way across the beautiful country in mid-New York. For not much more than a quarter century did its hey-day last as a channel of traffic. Then came the Erie canal, which from 1825 until the railroads pushed their way through, carried the produce of the great fertile hinterland to tidewater. From 1825 traffic began to dwindle over the pike, but it was a long time before it utterly ceased. The droves of turkeys, cattle and hogs, the great loads of produce and whisky kept moving over this well beaten track for years and years.

 Now comes the automobile and the highway comes into its own. Where once the commerce of a new century flowed to tidewater now go touring the grandchildren of those who made the old Cherry Valley Turnpike famous.

  Now comes the day when men name roads after great Americans. Some would name the great western turnpike the Roosevelt Highway. Leading westward, ever westward toward the setting sun, toward the land of promise, where Roosevelt never turned for his inspiration, stretches the old road.  

                               ______

                  Arrival of the stage was the highlight of the day.


Cazenovia Republican

June 1, 1939

Those Historic Old Taverns Along the Route of the Cherry Valley Turnpike

by Jabez W. Abell  

  The string of taverns which you may see this day along the Cherry Valley turnpike, says Walter H. Main in a Utica Saturday Globe of many years ago, these weather-beaten old frame structures long since turned into farmhouses, these were the natural development from the overland trade which grew from the pioneering of the post-revolutionary period.  All Western New York poured its traffic over this road. 

   A tavern, you understand, springs up where there is a natural stopping place for teams - at the top of a hill, at the forks of a road, at a watering place, at the natural end of a day's journey.  No landlord would set up a caravansary at his own sweet will.  He chooses some natural stopping place. 

   The Old Stage Tavern at the top of the hilt near Morrisville owes its position to the fact that it was the natural place to stop and rest the team, and to "bait" the horses after the long pull up the hill from Nelson.  Always the teams were loaded going toward Albany. 

   It was after we had made our peace with Britain, after the peace was signed in 1783 that the great hegira began out of Connecticut.  Up through Albany came the great tide of migration. They followed the westward way.  The hand that beckoned on the restless Yankees was always the prospect of bettering their condition.  Already the Connecticut country was too thickly populated.  The venturesome young fellows loaded their brides, their pots and kettles, their heritage of mahogany furniture and grandfathers' clocks into ox carts or into sleighs and set out, whistling a merry tune, with their axes over the shoulders. 

  This was the sturdy population which took up the new land, whose great market was Albany, where the sloops from New York drew up and were laden.  This was the population that produced great harvests of grain. great droves of cattle, great hogsheads of whiskey, hundreds and thousands of turkeys and hogs, and it was the going of this produce to tidewater that made the Cherry Valley turnpike.  Out of this traffic sprang the taverns that stand sentinel today over the memories of the past, while the present whirls by an rubber tires, unmindful of the commerce which used to toil slowly in a steady stream over this great highway. 

  Three ancient hostelries within a few miles on the Cherry Valley turnpike are the old Stage Tavern, the Tog Hill Tavern, and the Nelson Tavern.  Tog Hill Tavern is a little way west from Morrisville.  It was owned in its heyday by Granley Case, and great were the doings in its famous ballroom.  The elite for miles around used to find their social pleasures there.  It is said really to have been the abode of fashion in its day.  Granley Case had two sons, John and Dwight, who sold the property in 1862 to Samuel L. Jones, who with his heirs have used it for a farmhouse. 

  The old Stage Tavern at the top of the hill near Morrisville was one of the best known and most patronized in the days of the turnpike traffic.  When you consider that in those days this was the great direct route east and west, and that three stage coaches each way rolled over this turnpike each day, you may know something of what the trade must have been about meal time at this great, square frame building.  While the four horses of each stage were being fed, or while they were being changed for other teams, the wayfarers would unlimber themselves from the ponderous leather springed stages, and regale themselves with mine host's dinner. 

  Rather more pretentious than a tavern was the Exchange Hotel at Morrisville.  This village was for well nigh a century the county seat of Madison County.  The court house is still standing in which the forensic leaders of the day used to try their oratorical powers on rustic juries.  The jail is there yet where prisoners used to repine.  They can still point out to you the iron weight which in its day jerked into eternity on the jail gallows many a criminal.  They can point to you a swamp not far away where escaped prisoners hid themselves. 

  But as to the Exchange Hotel-this was a palatial caravansary in its day.  Here during court week the judicial and legal lights of the county, and sometimes from other sections, used to gather.  Before the days of telephones litigants had to assemble at the opening days of court and tarry until their cases were called.  Principals, attorneys and witnesses all had to come to court and wait and wait for days.  While they waited they stayed at the Exchange Hotel.  Within a year this structure had been razed but its picture has been preserved. 

  It was a capacious, rambling old hotel, capped with a square cupola.  On the walls of the cupola you might a year ago have read names of legal lights of past generations.  Most of these names are forgotten now, but in their day they stood for all that was locally great in the legal profession. 

   Local legend has it that nights and Sundays the gentlemen of the bar were wont to assemble in the cupola to play poker.  With the trap door shut who could prove that they were not up there to view the scenery? 

   Until the days of good roads and automobiles, for three-quarters of a century the Cherry Valley turnpike wound its placid way across the beautiful country in mid-New York.  For not much more than a quarter century did its heyday last as a channel of traffic.  Then came the Erie canal which, from 1825 until the railroads pushed their way through, carried the produce of the great, fertile hinterland to tidewater.  From 1825 traffic began to dwindle over the pike, but it was a long time before it utterly ceased.  The droves of turkeys, cattle and hogs, the great loads of produce and whiskey kept moving over this well beaten track for years and years.