Chenango County Half a Century Ago
Chenango Telegraph, Norwich, NY, December 30, 1875
Editors Chenango Telegraph: In the fall of 1825, just fifty years ago, my father moved with his family from the county of Chenango to what was then called the "West," though it was only into Steuben County, about one hundred miles, the journey being made with his own team and a lumber wagon. There were no buggies in those days; nor had such a thing as a railroad been heard of, or even imagined, anywhere in this part of the country. Indeed, by far the largest part of Western N.Y. was still a wilderness, with a few remaining Indians and many wild bests in possession of the soil. The Erie Canal was finished that same fall, though very few of the people in the southern tier of counties, or in the counties adjoining, knew or could imagine what sort of a thing a canal (or "canawl," as it was then more commonly pronounced) was. I was then the only son of my parents, and a small boy at that; though I can distinctly remember the "make of the ground" in the vicinity where I was born and had lived until that time, and also many of the people, especially those who were relatives of both of my parents of whom there were quite a large number, including my grandparents on my father's side, and uncles, aunts and cousins on both sides. There were then six brothers, including my father, living in the county, most of them in the town of Smithville. I had only visited Chenango once since we left there, until this fall - 1875. That visit served to refresh my memory and renew my acquaintance with quite a number whose names and faces were thus indelibly impressed upon my mind, and I felt almost as if it was my home. Some of my relatives, including my grandparents had been called from earth, while the number of relatives had greatly increased.
When I again visited the county this fall, the number of my relatives were indeed numerous, though most of my uncles and other old acquaintances had gone to the "land beyond the river." Quite a number, however, still remain, whose names are almost as familiar as those of my own family. This fall I found a host of friends, so many, indeed, that my limited time was too short to visit them all. The fact that so many had gone, was a source of sadness. But the great number whose friendship and hospitality I enjoyed, the beautiful scenery, the growth of villages, the railroads, the numerous improvements, &c., which attracted my attention and admiration, left but little time for sadness, or anything but pleasure, the memory of which will be fondly cherished until reason shall be dethroned.
Fifty years ago [1825], Chenango was, of course, a comparatively new country. The inhabitants were then "clearing" their land, many farms being not more than half cleared, and considerable quantity of land was still unoccupied. Norwich, Oxford and Greene were then small villages, thought the principal ones in the county. Most of the other towns were without even a hamlet. Now, the villages named have grown in population, wealth and business, to such dimensions that they would not be recognized by anyone who had not seen them between the above mentioned dates, and a large number of villages have sprung up in various parts of the county, until most of the towns have each a village, and some two or more.
The shade trees which now ornament and beautify the villages and some of the farms had no existence when I left your county, except in a very few instances. It seems hardly possible that those trees now so large and beautiful, could have been planted and grown to their present size in what seems to me so short a time. I have not seen in any part of the state villages that have received so much attention by way of planting shade trees. I visited one farm in Smithville, upon which along the road, there is the most beautiful row of maples that I ever saw and judging from their size, I should say they are more than fifty years old. If every owner of a farm or village lot had thus early planted a similar row of trees, what a beautiful country it would have made.
When I left Chenango, a large proportion of the farmers had but partially cleared their farms, while many others were just commencing. Sugar making and "getting out flax" were then two branches of industry not to be neglected in the early Spring, and buying sugar was scarcely thought of by farmers. If they failed to make sufficient for the use of their families, they were obliged to go without. Now, at the end of half a century, few farmers have sufficient timber for the use of their farms, still fewer have any to spare. Many of the "sugar bushes" are long since in ashes and scarcely a family thinks of getting along without sugar, or most of the other luxuries, even when they have all to buy. Now none but the older portion of the people know anything of "getting out flax." and that would be an unprofitable business now that cotton goods, thanks to our protective policy, are so abundant and so unparalleled low in price. Then, almost every dwelling possessed its spinning wheels, for both flax and wool, and most of the clothing, for winter and summer was manufactured by the family, from raw material produced upon each farm. Few of those wheels, especially the wheel for flax, can now be found in the country, and few persons are there who know how to use them. And not the least to be admired are the excellent sidewalks which prevail extensively in the villages made of large smooth stones taken from the quarries that abound in many of the towns.
I am so well pleased with the beauty and excellence of the farms and villages, the magnificent buildings, both public and private, the intelligence, friendliness, refinement and hospitality of the people, that I am almost tempted to return and again take up my residence in Chenango. Respectfully, P.S. Norris
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