The Madrid grist mill was torn down in 1959 by John Duryea, who had purchased the mill along with our old stone home. From my last post, you can see that the large grist stones are still piled along the bank of the Grasse River.
Here is a further quote from the essay, "The Madrid Bridge":
"The boys were interested in every step of the process by means of which the wheat or corn left the bins and became flour or corn meal. It was the atmosphere that intrigued me -and the miller. He was a friendly, kindly man, named Smith, and he looked, as I thought, as a miller should ('the Miller of December...') He had a daughter, Cynthia, who married Dakota Jim Fisher, a brother of 'my' Fisher girls."...
"Above the grist mill, the street rose sharply for a short space until it leveled off into the Square around which was the chief business section. On this hill was Nell's father's store where he sold all kinds of the simple kitchen equipment of those days. Some time in the past the shop must have made its own pans and basins because behind the building was a most fascinating pile of spirals or curls of tin with decorative touches of rust along the edges. We girls used to collect these. I have no idea why."
"Next was Ben Jackson's harness shop. Across the street was Cranston's Barbershop. The only one in town. I remember it because both children, a girl and a boy, died from tuberculosis when they were quite young."
Mrs. Keenan's reminiscences are from the years 1877-1889. In 1889, she attended the Potsdam Normal School.
Her essay is such a treasure. I will be sure to share further snippets from it in future posts!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
down by the old mill stream
There are hidden gems to be found in the archive center of the local historical society. Yesterday afternoon, I came across an essay written in 1958 named "The Madrid Bridge", written by Ruth Goodnow Keenan. She was 85 years old when it was composed.
After a few afternoons of bunny-trail research at the county courthouse and the archive library, we took a breather and paid a visit to the old stone home on the river. With the roar of the falls and a view of the stone arches as our background, we clambered down to the bank where the grist mill once towered.
While we perched ourselves on these curious rocks, I let my mind drift back in time to when the old grist mill was the life of the town.
I quote Mrs. Keenan:"On the northeast end of the bridge stood the gristmill. The sight of the huge stones, which, powered by water, moved round and round with a steady, majestic rhythm and ground out the flour, fascinated me. Now, teachers take their classes to visit industries. We used to wander wherever we like and, as far as I can remember, were welcome."
Thank you, Mrs. Keenan, for reminding me that the world is our classroom. These old mill stones provide a lovely place for reflecting upon that.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
the manor starts to shape up
This is one of the windows that sends me over the moon.Oh how I love these windows. The sills are perfect for sitting in. For in which to sit.
When we actually live here, you could knock on the front door and I will swing wide the door and say, "Entre vous."
The front bedroom has been claimed by the Lord & Lady of the Manor. We rang for the staff and requested that they paint over the minty green. Pronto.
It took a few weeks, but the progress is evident. It sure is hard to get good help these days.This particular member of the household staff plopped her purse and cellphone on the window sill, snacked on trail mix incessantly, and wasted time while reclining on the window sill while soaking in the view of the river.
We are totally docking her pay.
The color is "parchment" by Ralph Lauren.
Because the kitchen staff is still in training --and because the kitchen is tacky and smells of mold- the Lord & Lady of the Manor took their repast at the Hometown Diner after overseeing the progress of their real estate holdings.Grilled Tuna & Cheese on Rye, coleslaw, and a side of fries for the Lady, please.
Friday, January 30, 2009
winter-dreaming
The snow of mid-winter continues to fall, swaddling everything evenly in its soft flannel. The old stone home stands empty. At night, the windows are dark. No one sweeps the snowy porches; no one trundles down to the drive with a shovel in hand. True, the first floor apartment is occupied. But the bachelor who resides there is a quiet person. We hardly see evidence of his occupation. The tracks he leaves are quickly erased by the ever-drifting snow.
We wait patiently, taking our cue from the unfolding of the seasons, for the time to come for our family live there.
The empty, chilly rooms will be painted, new carpets unfurled, furniture positioned. Our baby grand piano will take its rightful place in the front room. Bedrooms will take on the character of their new owners. The sound of hammering and the cloying smell of fresh sawdust will fill the air. That peculiar and invigorating energy of a project will make us silly and slap-happy.
What is the color green doing on this blog in the month of January? Call it "color-therapy", if you will. I have wild hopes of tidying the old greenhouse in order to plant some garden flats. It is not a fancy greenhouse, mind you. It is a metal frame swathed in industrial plastic. But it is a real, bonafide greenhouse! For someone like myself who adores fresh greens, it is like money in the bank. Of course, this project won't get underway until late March, but January is almost over, and then we only have one more month......and then it is almost spring.
We wait patiently, taking our cue from the unfolding of the seasons, for the time to come for our family live there.
The empty, chilly rooms will be painted, new carpets unfurled, furniture positioned. Our baby grand piano will take its rightful place in the front room. Bedrooms will take on the character of their new owners. The sound of hammering and the cloying smell of fresh sawdust will fill the air. That peculiar and invigorating energy of a project will make us silly and slap-happy.
What is the color green doing on this blog in the month of January? Call it "color-therapy", if you will. I have wild hopes of tidying the old greenhouse in order to plant some garden flats. It is not a fancy greenhouse, mind you. It is a metal frame swathed in industrial plastic. But it is a real, bonafide greenhouse! For someone like myself who adores fresh greens, it is like money in the bank. Of course, this project won't get underway until late March, but January is almost over, and then we only have one more month......and then it is almost spring.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
deciphering some history
"As early as 1803 Seth Roberts built a grist mill, and the settlement took the name of "Roberts's Mill." It was also called by some "Grass River Falls," but previous to the War of 1812 was changed to "Columbia Village."
Elsewhere, the orginal grist mill is said to have been built in 1806. This mill (and the subsequent ones built in its place after the 1814 and 1856 fires) is gone. Our stone home stands next to it.
"The inhabitants of this town suffered much anxiety on account of their unprotected frontier. A company called the South Madrid Militia was frequently summoned, and took part in several skirmishes along the St. Lawrence, and also guarded public stores kept in the mill at the village. The officers were: captain., Jesse Goss; lieutenant, Richard Blood; ensign, Daniel Richards. In the summer of 1813 a lot of goods, public and private, were captured on a British ship and stored at the village. In the following winter a squad of British soldiers came out and retook a part of the goods and carried them away."
Here is an excerpt from Wikipedia which expounds upon the British/American conflict during the War of 1812:
"The British were potentially most vulnerable over the stretch of the Saint Lawrence where it also formed the frontier between Upper Canada and the United States. During the early days of the war, there was much illicit commerce across the river, but over the winter of 1812 - 1813, the Americans launched a series of raids from Ogdensburg on the American side of the river, hampering British supply traffic up the river."
Perhaps the "lot of goods" (which were captured on a British ship) came from the St. Lawrence River via Waddington or Ogdensburg. Until 1859, Waddington was not a separate township from Madrid. The South Madrid Militia likely claimed the British goods as their own bounty, seeing that they were taking part in "skirmishes" on the river. It would make sense to remove captured goods to a more remote place to be stored in a secure building (stone) for safe-keeping. It is unclear which mill was used for storage, but likely the only stone mill at this time was Seth Roberts' grist mill. The captured goods weren't safe for long though, as this account tells us that a squad of British soldiers came the next winter and reclaimed all the booty back!
"The early mills that have been mentioned as established at the village site were destroyed by fire in 1814, when they were owned by Jarah Meach, to whom the property had been sold by the firm of Lord & Price, who purchased of the builder. After the fire the site and water-power were purchased by Timothy Reed, who erected a grist and saw mill under one roof.
One-half of the mills built by Timothy Reed, as before stated, was sold by him to Safford & Horton. The property was finally sold on execution and Hiram Horton bid it in. The mill burned about 1856, and Horton built the stone grist mill standing opposite the saw mill, and subsequently sold to G. M. Douglass and his brother. The latter failed, and after one or two other changes the property passed to Smith & Hall (B. B. Smith, W. H. Hall) in May, 1893, who now operate it. Mr. Douglass now runs the saw mill under a lease."
This is all I can find online in reference to the old stone mills in Madrid, combined with copies of the 1852 and 1865 maps. The last paragraph is a bit vague, allowing that there are different mills referred to, some re-built after fire, some passing to other owners!
Elsewhere, the orginal grist mill is said to have been built in 1806. This mill (and the subsequent ones built in its place after the 1814 and 1856 fires) is gone. Our stone home stands next to it.
"The inhabitants of this town suffered much anxiety on account of their unprotected frontier. A company called the South Madrid Militia was frequently summoned, and took part in several skirmishes along the St. Lawrence, and also guarded public stores kept in the mill at the village. The officers were: captain., Jesse Goss; lieutenant, Richard Blood; ensign, Daniel Richards. In the summer of 1813 a lot of goods, public and private, were captured on a British ship and stored at the village. In the following winter a squad of British soldiers came out and retook a part of the goods and carried them away."
Here is an excerpt from Wikipedia which expounds upon the British/American conflict during the War of 1812:
"The British were potentially most vulnerable over the stretch of the Saint Lawrence where it also formed the frontier between Upper Canada and the United States. During the early days of the war, there was much illicit commerce across the river, but over the winter of 1812 - 1813, the Americans launched a series of raids from Ogdensburg on the American side of the river, hampering British supply traffic up the river."
Perhaps the "lot of goods" (which were captured on a British ship) came from the St. Lawrence River via Waddington or Ogdensburg. Until 1859, Waddington was not a separate township from Madrid. The South Madrid Militia likely claimed the British goods as their own bounty, seeing that they were taking part in "skirmishes" on the river. It would make sense to remove captured goods to a more remote place to be stored in a secure building (stone) for safe-keeping. It is unclear which mill was used for storage, but likely the only stone mill at this time was Seth Roberts' grist mill. The captured goods weren't safe for long though, as this account tells us that a squad of British soldiers came the next winter and reclaimed all the booty back!
One-half of the mills built by Timothy Reed, as before stated, was sold by him to Safford & Horton. The property was finally sold on execution and Hiram Horton bid it in. The mill burned about 1856, and Horton built the stone grist mill standing opposite the saw mill, and subsequently sold to G. M. Douglass and his brother. The latter failed, and after one or two other changes the property passed to Smith & Hall (B. B. Smith, W. H. Hall) in May, 1893, who now operate it. Mr. Douglass now runs the saw mill under a lease."
This is all I can find online in reference to the old stone mills in Madrid, combined with copies of the 1852 and 1865 maps. The last paragraph is a bit vague, allowing that there are different mills referred to, some re-built after fire, some passing to other owners!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
make your own earth-oven
I'm not sure when the idea first came to me of building our own outdoor bread oven. A photo from our family vacation to Plimouth Plantation, circa 1998, shows us standing in front of a beehive-shaped one. A gigantic wooden peel is leaning against its side, ready for action. We are all smiling happily -after all, this was vacation- but additionally, one can detect a gleam in my eye which bespeaks desire. More than just a twinkle or spark, it screams: give. me. my. own. outdoor. bread. oven.
We have oohed and ahhed over other brick/earth ovens. There is this one at the Crown Point NY historical site. I have seen a few ancient ones in the mountains of Spain. There is one inside Mama Lucia's restaurant, Potsdam NY, which makes bread with a killer crust!
Yesterday, I cracked open the cover of a hippie-styled book, "Build Your Own Earth-Oven".
If I can get past all the "be one with the dirt" mentality, I might like it. The author asserts that anyone can build a well-functioning outdoor oven for free or for very little cost. Enticing, isn't is? (It is for me, a bread-lover of the highest order.) All this talk of dismantling a very large stone fireplace has only fueled the fire, so to speak, of how we can make this outdoor oven a reality someday.
My fancies are tickled by the fact that our old stone home was built next to a gristmill. I wonder where all that flour was baked into bread? I have a vivid and active imagination; it cannot be helped. Some one please help me by building a bread oven for me so I can re-enact history in my backyard.
Even if building an outdoor bread oven isn't high on Hubby's priority list, that won't stop me from dreaming about one. I might as well dream intelligently and read this book from cover to cover.
We have oohed and ahhed over other brick/earth ovens. There is this one at the Crown Point NY historical site. I have seen a few ancient ones in the mountains of Spain. There is one inside Mama Lucia's restaurant, Potsdam NY, which makes bread with a killer crust!
Yesterday, I cracked open the cover of a hippie-styled book, "Build Your Own Earth-Oven".
If I can get past all the "be one with the dirt" mentality, I might like it. The author asserts that anyone can build a well-functioning outdoor oven for free or for very little cost. Enticing, isn't is? (It is for me, a bread-lover of the highest order.) All this talk of dismantling a very large stone fireplace has only fueled the fire, so to speak, of how we can make this outdoor oven a reality someday.
My fancies are tickled by the fact that our old stone home was built next to a gristmill. I wonder where all that flour was baked into bread? I have a vivid and active imagination; it cannot be helped. Some one please help me by building a bread oven for me so I can re-enact history in my backyard.
Even if building an outdoor bread oven isn't high on Hubby's priority list, that won't stop me from dreaming about one. I might as well dream intelligently and read this book from cover to cover.
Monday, January 12, 2009
island paradise
A simple pad of graph paper has provided hours of creative fun for me. Since we are completely re-designing the back wing of the house, I needed to start from scratch. The only element that will remain will be the foundation's "foot-print."
The first area we defined was the kitchen, which will basically stay in the same space as the present kitchen, which was installed in the 1960's. Presently, it is a long, narrow space with a breakfast nook. (The nook is nice; the view is lovely- but we aren't nook-ish people. We are definitely island-diners.) The counter-tops are cobalt blue tile. And shiny. One of the things that cracks my whole family up is the oven which is inserted INTO the fireplace opening. None of us get it. Must have been a 60's thing.
The floor plan will open up with the removal of some interior walls and the complete dismantling of a monstrous double-fireplace and chimney. This thing is huge and sits in the middle of the whole back wing. (How many remodeling projects begin with the words, "what were they THINKING?")
Today I was thinking about the future kitchen-island. Last summer, I discovered an old general store counter in a friend's barn. Last week, I called them up and inquired about it. Yes, it's still in the barn. Sure, they would not mind getting rid of it. They agreed to barter some work in exchange for it.
I think it would make a fantastic island! We would have to cut it to size (it is presently twelve feet long), add some trim, and build a top for it, but Hubby and #1 Son think it is do-able. I would use the space under the island for storage of large pots and pans. (Maybe also a shelf for cookbooks.) We are guessing the seating capacity to be eight, uncrowded.
If I can't have my own personal tropical island, I guess I could settle for a perfectly-appointed island in a well-designed kitchen. I'm not that hard to please. Really.
The first area we defined was the kitchen, which will basically stay in the same space as the present kitchen, which was installed in the 1960's. Presently, it is a long, narrow space with a breakfast nook. (The nook is nice; the view is lovely- but we aren't nook-ish people. We are definitely island-diners.) The counter-tops are cobalt blue tile. And shiny. One of the things that cracks my whole family up is the oven which is inserted INTO the fireplace opening. None of us get it. Must have been a 60's thing.The floor plan will open up with the removal of some interior walls and the complete dismantling of a monstrous double-fireplace and chimney. This thing is huge and sits in the middle of the whole back wing. (How many remodeling projects begin with the words, "what were they THINKING?")
Today I was thinking about the future kitchen-island. Last summer, I discovered an old general store counter in a friend's barn. Last week, I called them up and inquired about it. Yes, it's still in the barn. Sure, they would not mind getting rid of it. They agreed to barter some work in exchange for it.
I think it would make a fantastic island! We would have to cut it to size (it is presently twelve feet long), add some trim, and build a top for it, but Hubby and #1 Son think it is do-able. I would use the space under the island for storage of large pots and pans. (Maybe also a shelf for cookbooks.) We are guessing the seating capacity to be eight, uncrowded.
If I can't have my own personal tropical island, I guess I could settle for a perfectly-appointed island in a well-designed kitchen. I'm not that hard to please. Really.
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