Chenango & Unadilla Valleys 50 years ago

The Chenango and Unadilla Valleys Fifty Years Ago

by S.S. Randall

Chenango Telegraph, May 8, 1872

Coventry

 

Coventry [Chenango Co., NY], on the west of Bainbridge and east of Greene, was taken from the latter town in 1806.  The Eastern part, adjoining Bainbridge was patented by the State in 1787 to Robert Harper, and the western included in the patent to Walter Livingston, granted in 1788.  The first settlement, according to Mr. Childs, was made near the center of the town, in 1785, by Simon Jones.  A Mr. Goodell and Mr. Clark settled near Mr. Jones in 1786, and Benjamin Jones in the same locality, in 1788.  Ozias Yale and William Starks located a little north of Coventry, in 1792; Elijah Warren within the present boundaries of the town in 1804, and Moses Allis, Roger Edgerton, and Ziba Hutchinson, soon after.  The first birth was that of William Allis, son of Moses Allis, in 1794; the first marriage, that of Simeon Parker to Polly Sprague, and the first death, that of a son of Roger Edgerton, in 1790.  Sherman Page, future king of Unadilla, and Grand Sachem of the "Oxford Chase," taught the first school; Benjamin Jones kept the first inn in 1788; and Jothan Packer opened the first store in 1799, and erected the first grist-mill in 1795.  The first carding and cloth-dressing establishment was opened by A. and W.H. Rogers, at about the same time.

 

The early settlers of Coventry were from New England, and though not connected with any established church, listened to the primitive and fervent preaching of Good old Elder Camp, until 1807, when a church was organized under the auspices of the Rev. David Harmon, or Harrower, as given by Hotchins, in his "History of the Presbyterian Church in Western New York." 

 

General Jones & Judge Rouse

 

A very characteristic and amusing story was told fifty years since, of Gen. Jones in connection with Judge Casper M. Rouse, of Norwich, which I give for what it is worth; albeit not quite so well authenticated as the famous "certificate" alluded to by my friend "J.C." as to the patent medicine known as "Root's Ointment," which the worthy judge pompously declared he has used in his own family for seven years, and could, therefore, speak ex cathedra.  (Perhaps, likewise, brother "J.C." would be pleased to have some light thrown on the dark, interminable and stormy interview between Judge Rouse and a worthy conductor of the "Eagle," after a pleasant evening spent within that hostelry, while "pitchforks" rained without).  At present, however, we have reference to an incident said to have occurred about the year 1806, when Judge Rouse represented in part, the Western District in the State Senate, and Gen. Jones the County, in the lower branch.  In these primitive times, a journey from the Chenango Valley to Albany was a formidable undertaking, and economical considerations by no means out of place. The worthy Judge was, however, not insensible of the superior dignity of his official position as a grave and revered Senator, upon whom all eyes in the rural districts were naturally turned, and as his good friend, Gen. Jones, of Coventry, and himself, were bound to the same goal, and must, of course, be equally desirous with himself, to avoid all unnecessary expenditure in the long journey before them, the Senator, with great hospitality, invited him to dine with him at his residence in Norwich, on his way to the Capitol, and availed himself of the occasion, to lay before him the plan of the campaign.  The Judge, it seemed, was a passionate admirer of the dish commonly known as "pork and beans," and having great abundance of that savory material on hand, specially prepared for the purpose, appraised his visitor of his intention to store in the recesses of his sleigh, a quantum sufficit for their mutual refreshment during the rest of the journey, which they were to perform in company, it being, however, expressly agreed and understood between the high contracting parties, that at each public house on the route, in which they should stop to dine, they should appear as entire strangers to each other--that the General should quietly produce his savory store of pork and beans, and commence its demolition, while the Judge, in the intervals of affable and condescending conversation with the inmates of the public room, should congratulate his worthy friend on his primitive meal, and its appetizing fragrance, who, on his part, should, in a friendly manner, invite him to participate in its enjoyment, an invitation with which after a little "slow, reluctant, amorous delay," he was graciously to accept.  They had not proceeded far on their course, when towards the close of an inclement day, they entered separately a public house, in the bar room of which a large crowd was assembled, enjoying the warmth of the large, open fireplace, and among them several distinguished acquaintances of the Senator's.  Familiar converse, of course, ensued, and the evening was passing away pleasantly, and rapidly.  Gen. Jones, in the mean time, entered the public room, quietly helped himself to a spare table and comfortable chair, produced, in grave silence, his well-filled knapsack, with abundant store of pork and beans, and incontinently fell to, with an appetite sharpened by his long day's ride, and the inclemency of the weather. The worthy Judge from time to time case significant glances in the direction of his companion, and with watering mouth and terrific appetite, contrived to detach himself from his distinguished friends, and in a dignified manner, walked past the table at which the General was seated, inhaled the pleasant odor of the savory meal, and ineffectually sought his friend's distant recognition.  The General, however, appeared to be far too deeply interested in his own thoughts and agreeable occupation, to notice the hints and innuendoes of his Senatorial Friend. The Judge, becoming more and more impatient of the long delay, and feeling more and more intensely the craving of his inner man, and the melancholy void in his capacious stomach, audibly repeated his broad hints, to the wonder and surprise of his distinguished friends, who appeared to regard it as a pleasant joke of the facetious Senator's.  The General stolidly pursued his ravages on the forage so liberally provided by his colleague, without in any manner recognizing his palpable maneuvers. Finally, the Judge, in utter desperation, ventured upon a bold flank movement.  "My worthy friend," he pompously declaimed, in the general hearing, "you seem to be enjoying your somewhat coarse meal, with an astonishing appetite, induced, in all probability sir, by the sharpness of the atmosphere without."  No reply.  The judge, after taking a few more turns, returned to the charge.  Clearing his parched throat with a stentorian effort, he again gave tongue "He-em!  He-em! my good friend, the savor of your primitive dish is really not unpleasant to my nostrils and although I have dined some hours since, I think, upon my work, I could partake of a small bit with you, if agreeable, sir to yourself."  "Fall to!  Fall to Judge Rouse" roared the General with a hearty laugh; "Fall to, out with your knife and fork, it's all your own you know." and the discomfited judge sat down amid the irrepressible roar of the amazed and delighted audience.

 

Poor, dear, old Judge Rouse.  Much abused, calumniated, befogged, traduced and vilified--the hero of many an ancient legend of sixty years since--yet, at heart, simple-minded, worthy, just, benevolent--if, withal, somewhat pompous and self conceited--entrusted by his fellow citizens with the highest offices and public trusts within their gift--an upright magistrate--an incorruptible Senator--and an enterprising, public-spirited citizen.  Those "high jokes" of sixty years ago, were, after all, if not wholly commendable, pardonable indulgencies of pioneer life--"that gave delight and hurt not," and what, with those high pretentions of the good old judge--the manifold temptations to which he was constantly exposed--his futile efforts at self-vindication--the worrying of eminent counsel--the jibes and jeers of the ignorant and vulgar herd--and the practical jokes of his witty associates--to say nothing of that "seven years" campaign against "all the ills which flesh is heir to."  I fear his couch wasn't altogether one of rose leaves.  Peace to his memory.  I recall his venerable image, as he sat on  the front porch of his ancient mansion, on the sandy hill, overlooking the clear waters of the Canasawacta, with their long stretch of green meadow on the one hand, and the solemn, peaceful, quiet shades of the village burying ground on the other; surrounded by his blooming, hearty, healthy and happy family--his boys, Austin, Melancthon, and the rest, my own daily schoolmates; and with all his eccentricities, faults and follies, I revere his sturdy, uncompromising honesty, and the fidelity with which, in those early days, he sought to discharge the high and honorable trusts confided to him!