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1901
A Hammondsport Odyssey
by
April
War and Peace
Grattan H. Wheeler died on April 10, 1901, shortly after his 88th birthday.
He had been born in the town of Wheeler, which was named for his grandfather,
who was a veteran both of the Revolution and of the War of 1812. Grattan
moved to Pleasant Valley in 1857, went into grape growing, and was president
of the Pleasant Valley Wine Company for the first nine years of its existence.
Wheeler was instrumental in founding Prattsburgh's Franklin Academy and
the Hammondsport Academy, besides supporting the later conversion of Hammondsport
into a Union Free School. After his PVWC days, he opened the Wheeler Wine
Company, but this burned in 1876 and was reorganized as Hammondsport Wine
Company, which passed from his hands in 1878. One of his sons was Steuben
County Surrogate Judge Monroe Wheeler, who later served as a director
of the Curtiss company and handled much of the firm's legal work (some
of it quite poorly). Monroe's son Sayre Wheeler would be in the Aerocar
steamlined travel trailer business with Glenn, and would even become Lena
Curtiss's second husband after Glenn died.
Grattan Wheeler's Pleasant Valley farm had become the home of his daughter
Eliza and her husband, Major Hezekiah Ripley Gardner. Gardner, who came
to Hammondsport from Illinois as a child, helped organize an Illinois
volunteer company for the Civil War, becoming a captain and serving on
the staff of General George Buell. But this was no “bombproof”
billet, and Gardner lost his right leg at Missionary ridge. After the
war he traveled for PVWC, Urbana Wine Company, and even a California firm
(rumor has it they grow grapes out there, too).
Major Gardner, aged 61, survived his father-in-law by only 15 days, being
apparently in fine health until he caught a cold on a Saturday and died
of pneumonia, in the Wadsworth Hotel (current site of the Big M parking
lot), on the following Thursday. Medical science, of course, could do
virtually nothing in 1901 about what the Hammondsport Herald
termed "the insidious disease." The paper also reported that month that
Scientific American was recommending a treatment of tar and turpentine
for diphtheria. There were signs of better days coming, though. Dr. Babcock
in Branchport bought an X-ray machine; some of his equipment is in the
Curtiss Museum. Even though the Civil War had been over for 36 years,
armed conflict continued to preoccupy many Americans. Foreign demand for
cavalry horses was sending prices for sound young teams up into the $200-$275
range. The Hammondsport paper published a letter from former townsman
Adolphe Giffen, who was in Peking with US forces that had helped put down
the Boxer Rebellion. General Funston captured Filipino independence leader
Emilio Aguinaldo. Aguinaldo agreed to accept US sovereignty and urged
his countrymen to make peace, upon which General Arthur MacArthur (father
of Douglas, who was then at West Point) released a thousand political
prisoners. Major Gardner, had he lived, probably would have been quite
proud to see that name in the news. Arthur MacArthur, as a very young
Wisconsin volunteer, had made his mark as the first man up Missionary
Ridge.
Of course, Hammondsporters also had more peaceful pursuits. Glenn Curtiss
ran an ad for his harness business. Horse populations were dropping dramatically
with the advent of bicycles, electric streetcars, and even the brand new
autos. But in a rural community like Hammondsport, where apparently no
auto had even passed through town as yet, horses were still vital. The
paper reported three accidents involving horses, and for 75 cents you
could get enough Devoe's Gloss Carriage Paint to do your whole buggy in
any one of ten colors.
St. Gabriel's Church broke ground for their new $1400 rectory, and the
Methodist Church installed those electric lights it had collected for,
pointing out that this would make the place cooler in summer. Mrs. James
Neel opened the Lake Keuka Cat Kennels, where she intended to breed angoras
commercially. With ice finally melted, navigation on the lake resumed,
but nights were still cold enough for good runs of maple sap. Urbana named
71 highway supervisors, each responsible for a stretch of road near their
homes, and Steuben County appointed a sidepath deputy, charged with making
sure that cyclists each had their tags up to date. Despite all those conflicts
in the world, life was peaceful enough on April 10 for the Herald
to devote most of its front page to Easter fashions. You could outfit
yourself in style at Cohn's in Bath, Brough's in Hammondsport, or Lown's
in Penn Yan. Hopping on steamships, buggies, and railroad cars, many people
ushered in spring by doing just that.
May
A Month of Storms
Hammondsport had its first thunderstorm of 1901 on Thursday, May 2, and
its first concert in the park on Saturday, May 11. (They used the very
bandstand that still graces the town square.) James McDowell caught an
eight-pound trout, while individual fishermen using Seth Green rigs in
the branches were taking as many as 98 a day. A. D. B. Grimley trotted
out a bright new ice wagon with a matched team of grays, and the summer
season was under way.
There were other signs that a new season was at hand. Village women who
owned property and paid taxes on it gained the right to vote on village
taxation issues. And the State of New York established an automotive speed
limit at 15 miles per hour. A new Hammondsport ordinance required cyclists
to completely dismount when passing any person walking or standing on
a public walk, on penalty of a $2.00 fine and conviction as a disorderly
person.
Medical experts were announcing their conclusion that malaria and yellow
fever were spread by mosquitoes, and bubonic plague by rats. (It was actually
the fleas, but even the rat connection was a big advance.) The U. S. was
becoming interested in tropical diseases, such as yellow fever, after
snatching a number of tropical possessions after the Spanish-American
War. The independence movement in the Philippines was grudgingly giving
up on its armed insurgency, so the army ended recruitment specifically
for Philippine service.
Tensions often ran high internally, also. When 50,000 machinists went
on strike, the National Guard shot two of them dead in Albany.
Of course there was plenty of excitement in western New York about the
opening of the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. J. S. Smith won a first
prize at the Pan-Am with his Lake Keuka Catawbas. World's fairs were very
popular in this time, when there were no radios, no TV, very few movies
(with those at once silent and black & white), and technologically limited
magazine illustration. The best way to get a feel for faraway places (apart
from joining the army) was to gather at a great fair. Of course, if you
couldn't make the fair, you could at least drool over technological innovations
by dropping in at the post office to pick up a set of Pan-Am commemorative
stamps. One of these actually pictured a motorcar.
In the village of Hammondsport, measles and chicken pox were both prevalent
that May. Children today wouldn't know about such things, but a hundred
years ago there were no preventive vaccines available for these and other
"childhood" diseases. Every three years or so they would sweep through
a community, playing havoc with school schedules. Likewise prevalent in
the area were pheasants, which were being raised, for stocking, on the
ground of the Bath fish hatchery. One of the released birds wandered the
streets of Hammondsport, and sportsmen were eagerly anticipating the hunting
seasons that would open in 1905.
The Keeler Hose voted to disband in May, leaving Hammondsport with only
two volunteer fire companies. St. James Episcopal Church, with a new edifice
being completed, lifted itself out of debt through a member subscription.
The Baptist Church in North Urbana and the Methodist Episcopal Church
in Hammondsport held joint revival services. Reverend Arthur Williams,
formerly pastor at Mount Washington Baptist, was a missionary in the Congo
Free State. New York state was going through Congressional redistricting
(sound familiar?); Hammondsport's district was renumbered but unchanged.
Mr. Zimmer installed a new 100 hp Corliss motor at the electric plant
down by the waterfront, significantly increasing his capacity. But new
opportunities also brought new drawbacks. When the Wheeler barn was moved
from Vine Street through Lake to Main, workers had to remove the telephone
and electric wires first.
One more change may have provoked a vaguely unsettled feeling among parents
and children in Hammondsport. Beginning in May of 1901, the evening curfew
was rung not by the town hall bell, but by the whistle on the electric
light plant.
Keuka College by this point had raised $14,000 of a $25,000 challenge
from the canning-jar Ball brothers, who had promised to donate $50,000
if the challenge were met. And Lulu Mott, recently widowed, opened a boarding
house in Hammondsport, never dreaming that within a decade she would be
hosting the most famous pilots in the world.
June
Some Things Never Change
Ah, June! The 1900-01 academic year was over at last, and the kids were
out of school at last. We can be pretty sure that they had much the same
feelings that kids had this year when school let out; some things never
change. Hammondsport had its biggest graduating class to date.
The community was very excited by the dedication of the new Civil War
memorial, which means that this village landmark has just recently enjoyed
its centennial. The war had ended only 36 years earlier, making its veterans
about the same age that Vietnam veterans are today. The monument was sponsored
by Hammondsport's Monroe Brundage Post of the Grand Army of the Republic.
The G. A. R. was a nationwide association of Union veterans, promoting
the welfare of comrades and the advance of patriotism.
Since most members were staunch supporters of the party of Lincoln, cynics
called it “the Grand Army of the Republicans.”
Be that as it may, veterans were proud of having destroyed slavery and
saved the Union, and their neighbors shared their pride. Lake Keuka Navigation
Company ran a special steamer from Penn Yan for the ceremonies, and photographer
de Groat advertised that he would open his part-time Hammondsport studio
an extra day that week in order to accommodate sitters. Today the monument
stands on the front lawn of the municipal building, but a hundred years
ago it was installed a few yards away, right in the center or the intersection
between Lake and Main Streets. It was larger back then, too, standing
on a circular base and surrounded with mortars and cannonballs. The monument
provided the starting point when street paving finally began in 1914,
but by then it was already being cussed out by the drivers of automobiles,
which had certainly not been anticipated as a problem thirteen years earlier.
Moderns wars, of course, were also in the news. The British captured
the “Mad Mullah's” supply base in Somaliland, but suffered
a sharp defeat in a night attack by Boers even as Cecil Rhodes called
for a South African confederation. Following Aguinaldo's lead, General
Cailles in the Philippines surrendered 650 men and 550 rifles to US forces.
Weather was also big news a hundred Junes ago, as tremendous storms tore
through the area. Lightning struck the Erie depot in Avoca, splintering
nine utility poles, burning out the telegraph equipment and slightly injuring
the operator. But James Shannon was killed inside his barn on Mt. Washington,
struck with lightning as he harnessed a team. Terrific hail storms severely
damaged the grape and fruit crops. Glaziers were sold out, and the four
Hammondsport village churches wouldn't get all their windows replaced
until fall.
Our country was a very different place back then, missing many protections
that we now take for granted and would be horrified to miss. It was only
as of June 1 that the state required fire drills for schools with more
than a hundred students. On that same day the two Doctors Babcock, apparently
working in their village office or in the patient's home, removed four
cancers from the armpit of a local woman (Dr. Babcock in Branchport was
a nephew to these two brothers.) The government ruled that immigrants
with tuberculosis would be denied entry to the United States. Depositors
with the defunct First National Bank in Penn Yan received their second
and last dividend from assets. They each lost a third of their deposits;
compared with the experiences of many in those days of uninsured, unregulated
banking, they got off pretty lightly.
Such was not the case in California, where masked men overpowered a guard
to lynch five accused horse thieves. Or in Louisiana, where a mob lynched
two African-American men for murder. And it was spectacularly not the
case in Florida, where a mob burned an African-American man at the stake,
charging him with assaulting and murdering a white woman. Such attacks
were repeated all through the year, but proposals for federal anti-lynching
laws were brushed aside because they would interfere with states' rights.
Once the storms ended, things were far calmer in Hammondsport, where
the newspaper editor fulminated against mail-order bicycles and slyly
observed that the village had 70 “bachelor girls.” This fact
evidently did not distract sportsmen, who kept themselves busy organizing
a gun club. The high school graduated its largest-ever class of 13 seniors,
Glenn Curtiss went to Buffalo for the Pan-American Exposition, and village
electors (now including some women for the first time!) voted 59-24 to
raise a thousand dollars in taxes and buy the instruments of the Hammondsport
Citizens Band. Ah, June.
A Close-Up Look at Graduation Day - 1901
More than a hundred Junes ago, students in Hammondsport and surrounding
communities were doing what students always do at that time—struggling
through Regents exams. Yes, the state-mandated tests were already an established
part of school life back in those days, and they were already controversial
with many citizens and educators arguing to abolish them.
But 13 students won through the ordeal, making up the largest graduating
class in Hammondsport's history up to that time. So family and friends
of S. Lynn Bauter, Clara J. Genung, N. Carleton Foster, Samuel French,
Dora Duck, Bertha Duck, Pearl A. Wixom, Grace A. Wixom, John W. Keeler,
Jr., N. Florence Wheeler, Lyman D. Aulls, and William Hamlin gathered
in the Methodist Church to celebrate. The audience was large, the night
was “very warm,” and the program was “necessarily long.”
Back in March, the church had taken up a subscription in order to install
electric lights. If that work had not been completed, then oil lamps would
have made the place even warmer.
Salutatorian Carleton Foster led off with "America's Debt to Liberty,"
describing our nation's development from colonial days to “the foremost
country of modern civilization.” Grace Wixom read her essay, "Night
Brings out the Stars," pointing out how cares and responsibilities contribute
to development.
Stella Casterline's address, “The Duty of Happiness,” forcefully
argued that individual happiness was “our first and most important
duty.” Stella could have fit in with several ancient Greek philosophers
and quite a few mid-century psychologists.
May Maxon gave a piano solo, and Samuel French spoke on “The Days
of Slavery,” admittedly an old topic. Dora Duck discussed “The
Harmonies of Nature,” averring that apparent discordance was due
to our own imperfect perception (Plato would have approved). The newspaper
observed that a chorus at this point, “Morning Invitation,”
“gave the listeners a breathing spell.”
It didn't last. Florence Wheeler got frequent applause as she gave the
class prophecies, and read her essay urging the audience to imitate high
and noble ideals. Adelia Ray took a different tack in “Unconscious
Influence,” suggesting that listeners always watch their own conduct,
knowing that it would influence others unconsciously.
Lynn Bauter (whose early dreams of missionary work gave him the lifelong
nickname “Mish,” but who gave up the dream to become a boat
builder) got an enthusiastic response by advocating “Our Imperial
Republic.” As the paper observed, “President McKinley and
his cabinet need not look for a more ardent champion of their treatment
of America's new possessions.” It must have been quite a switch
when Pearl Wixom drew life lessons from her favorite blossom in “Pansies
for Thought.” Julie Masson sang a solo that was well received by
the audience, which was at this point “tired and perspiring.”
But Lyman Aulls still had an inspiring account of the new Pan-American
Exposition to give, while Bertha Duck delivered herself of a clearly original,
if perhaps a little puzzling, work, "The Druids and their Customs." William
Hamlin then stepped up to the plate with “Socialistic Tendencies,”
denouncing this "alarming feature" of the current generation and urging
citizens to vote it down without regard to party. (The graduating men
of Hammondsport seem to have been pretty conservative, but over in Bath,
Clair Hedges had recently delivered a forceful address at school attacking
business trusts.)
At last Clara Genung arose for the valedictory, “From School Life
to Life's School.” This was, the reporter noted, “well-prepared…abounding
in fine sentiment and noble incentives… If the class heeds her injunctions,
its fair promise will be materially increased.” Professor Plough,
the principal, "presented the diplomas in a few well-chosen words.”
(He would have been lynched had he done otherwise.) The chorus sang “Lark
Song" and “Good Night,” following which Reverend Thomas Duck
gave an invocation, and the meeting broke up, already planning next year's
facilities in the new Opera House that Gottlieb Frey was building.
And so the first class of the twentieth century went into the world.
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