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Traveling by Stagecoach
in Central New York
contributed by
From America: Historical and Descriptive
by James S. Buckingham
London, 1841, Vol. 2 , pp. 476 - 480
On the morning of Wednesday, August 8 (1838), we left Utica, in an extra,
as the regular stage had set out in the middle of the night, and proceeded
on by the high turnpike road towards Syracuse, where we intended making
our next halt. It is not ususal to travel in postchaises in this country,
but in lieu of this, extra-coaches, with nine seats, will be furnished
on any part of the road, if the persons engaging them will pay the regular
stage-fare for eight passengers. We were fortunate in finding an agreeable
party of three persons, which, added to our own, of the same number, enables
us to take an extra between us, and divide the expense, and in this way
the carriage is entirely under the direction of the party occupying it,
as to the stoppages, hours of setting out, &c.
The coaches, whether stage or extra, are very heavily built, though airy
and commodious when the passengers are once seated. The baggage is all
carried in a large leather case projecting from behind, and the coaches
are painted with very gaudy colours. The horses are large, strong, and
good; but the harness is coarse, ill-fitted, and dirty. There is no guard,
and no outside passengers, and the coachman, or driver, as he is here
universally called, is generally very ill-dressed, though civil, and well
qualified for his duty, notwithstanding that he receives no fees whatever
from any of the passengers by the way, and it is certainly an agreeable
thing for an English traveller to find himself on the road, with his fare
paid once and for all, without the frequent opening of the coach-door
for the shilling and half-crown, due, by usage, to the coachman and guard,
with a certainty of insolent language if it be not readily paid.
The rate of stage-travelling varies between six and eight miles the hour,
but is more frequently the former than the latter. The roads are in general
wretched, full of deep ruts and elevations, that jolt and shake the traveller
to a painful degree; while, in appearance, the American stage-coach, with
it horses, harness, and fitting is as inferior to the light, smart, and
trim coaches of Bath, Brighton and Dover, that start from Charing Cross
and Piccadilly, as a heavily-laden merchant-ship is to a beautiful corvette
or light frigate—or, to do the Americans justice in another department,
in which they excel us—as the deeply-laden collier going up the
Thames, is to one of their beautiful pilot schooners or packets.
While on this subject, I may mention that a great many, even of the coach-phrases
in America are derived from a seafaring life: as, for instance, instead
of the coachman coming to the door, as in England, and asking—“Are
ye all in, gentlemen?” The American driver's question is—“Are
ye all aboard?” And instead of the signal of the English guard,
“All right,” which precedes the crack of the whip; the American
bookkeeper, when he hands up the way-bill, exclaims, “Go ahead!”
Proceeding by the stage route from Utica, we first passed through a small
village called New Hartford, seated on a stream named Sadaquada, here
called a creek—another instance of the nautical origin of many of
the American names and phrases. A creek is a familiar term to seamen,
because every inlet from the sea up a narrow strait of land is so called;
but here the term is applied to small inland rivers hundreds of miles
from the sea. Ascending from hence over a rising hill, we had a fine view
of Hamilton College, one of the public seminaries of education pointed
out to us. The landscape, of which it formed a part, was pleasing, and
the country around it well wooded, and in good order. A few miles farther
on, we came to Manchester, very unlike its great dingy and smoky namesake
in England. This was entirely an agricultural prospect, with well-cultivated
farms all around it, and as far as I could learn, there was not a single
manufactory nor even the germ of one, yet planted at this spot.
Vernon is the name of another pretty village, 7 or 8 miles beyond Manchester,
at which we changed horses and drivers, the usual distance performed by
each team being from 8 to 12 miles. This contains a glass factory, and
some few mills worked by water-power.
Five miles beyond this, we passed through a spot called Oneida Castle,
the lands around which formerly belonged to the Oneida Indians, under
the title of the Oneida Reservation. In general, when treaties were made
between the government of the United States and any of the Indian tribes,
certain portions of land were set apart for their use, either as hunting-grounds,
or for cultivation. These were called "Indian Reservations," and this
was one of them. It appears that the Oneida Indians had acquired some
knowledge of practical agriculture; but the cultivation was so unskillful
and so unprofitable, compared with that of the whites by which they were
surrounded, and the feeling between the two races was so far from being
friendly, that the government adopted as a settled rule of policy, the
determination to remove as many of the Indians as they could persuade
to consent to that measure, to the territory west of the Mississippi,
or in Western Michigan. The Oneidas chose the latter, and have some time
since emigrated to that quarter; and their lands in this reservation,
having been purchased of them, by whites, are now in the same state of
improved cultivation as the surrounding estates of their neighbors.
From hence we passed, at distances of from 3 to 5 miles apart, the small
villages of Lenox, Quality Hill, and Chittenango, where we halted, and
walked a short distance to see some remarkable petrifactions of trees,
at the foot of a hill, from whence issue various springs of water, that
leave incrustations in their track, and probably occasioned the petrifactions
seen. So many travellers have taken portions of this for their cabinets,
that but little at present remains, without further excavations; we succeeded,
however, in getting a fine specimen, with part of the unchanged wood of
the interior attached to the petrifaction of the bark.
Nothing of peculiar interest occurred between this and Syracuse, which
we reached about 4 in the afternoon, having left at 8 in the morning,
and were thus 8 hours performing 50 miles, or at an average rate of 6¼
miles per hour.
We remained at Syracuse to sleep, but there also having made arrangements
for my remaining a week on my return-journey, no examination was made
of the town.
Note: The road mentioned here is today's Route 5. The village of "Manchester"
is now Verona.
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