This 1866 map shows the low-water boundaries of the Genesee River in Rochester “as they probably were between 1820 & 1830.” It was included in a report published by a commission investigating the causes of the 1865 Rochester flood. (“Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Investigate the Causes of the Inundation of the City of Rochester in March, 1865,” Documents of the Assembly of the State of New York, 1866, vol. 5, issue 117)
The historical outlines of the Genesee River in Rochester might still be a mystery if it hadn’t been for the flood of 1865.
Seeking an explanation for the sudden inundation, the New York state legislature in 1866 appointed a panel of prominent Rochester citizens to investigate. The four men — Addison Gardner, former New York Court of Appeals judge and lieutenant governor; Amon Bronson, lumber dealer and supervisor of the city’s Third Ward; Levi A. Ward, a founder of the Rochester Gas Company and former mayor; and grain merchant George J. Whitney — took their task seriously and, assisted by Isaac F. Quinby, professor of mathematics at the recently established University of Rochester, undertook a detailed study of the brief but tempestuous relationship between the river and the rapidly expanding settlement on its banks.1
Among other things, they commissioned the first accurate surveys of the river, which documented the locations of the second aqueduct, bridges, and adjacent buildings, and the elevations of the riverbed from the Johnson mill dam to the brink of the High Falls.
But when it came time to establish the historic location of the river’s shoreline — something that should have been well within living memory — the commissioners were left scratching their heads. They wrote:
“In devising measures to prevent future inundations, it would be of much assistance to ascertain the boundaries of the river, which had been established by natural causes before the city was founded; but the land marks by which to fix these boundaries have been so completely obliterated in the gradual growth of the city that the oldest residents do not agree in regard to them, and it is impossible to make an accurate representation of the river as it was fifty years ago within the present limits of the city.”2
In spite of this, and presumably with Professor Quinby’s able assistance, they forged ahead and gave it the old college try. Their final report included a fold-out map showing the low-water boundaries of the river “as they probably were between 1820 and 1830.”
It was, they wrote, “perhaps as close an approximation as can be hoped for.”3
Elevation data published by the 1866 flood commission, along with its surveys and other maps of Rochester, made it possible to estimate the elevations of various terrain features as they would have existed in the early nineteenth century. This digitally sculpted surface is based on those estimates. The camera position is near the east bank of the Genesee River, looking west. The bed of the river dominates the bottom half of the frame, with the west bank and the rocky ledge visible in the distance. (Rendering by Steve Boerner.)
Reconstructing the river
The landscape I’m working on will show the original Rochester aqueduct under construction in the fall of 1822.
The Genesee River shaped the development of the village of Rochester, along with its mills, its bridges and, of course, the aqueduct. So, the first order of business was to build a three-dimensional map of the riverbed and terrain at the Upper Falls.
This is where the flood commissioners’ 1866 report enters the picture. Despite their misgivings, the commissioners did produce a fine map of the river’s historic low-water boundaries. It may have been a guess, but it was an educated one.
The other survey and elevation maps included in their report also contain a wealth of information. By comparing their measurements of the Genesee’s riverbed to the height of the first aqueduct, it becomes possible to estimate the historic elevations of the Genesee River, the millraces, and the rocky shelves on its east and west banks.
And this, in turn, can be used to sculpt a reasonably accurate three-dimensional terrain map.
The sculpted surface doesn’t look like much. Aside from the rocky ledge in the background and a few small shelves or “rifts” in the riverbed, there isn’t much variation here. But these slight elevation changes played an outsize role in the early development of Rochester, so it was important to get them right.
The same view as above, with water surfaces and foliage added to the scene. This reconstructed landscape is similar to the one that would have greeted visitors to the Upper Falls of the Genesee before the village of Rochester was founded. The rim of the final ledge or “rift” of the Upper Falls angles from the center of the image to the lower right, and a dense, swampy forest covers the opposite bank. (Rendering by Steve Boerner.)
Once the base terrain was done, it was just a matter of adding surface textures, water, and foliage.
At that time the landscape would have been covered by old-growth forest. In a letter to his father in Connecticut, Hamlet Scrantom, who operated one of the first sawmills near the village, wrote that “the country is . . . timbered with all kinds of ash, whitewood [softwoods such as pine], chestnut, hickory, black walnut, &c., and many trees of an enormous size.”4
By 1822 much of this timber would be felled to make way (and to provide building material) for the new village.
The scene’s point of view looks west from the east bank of the river. It is similar to the reconstructed view shown in the previous post; here, the season has been set to late October, the intended date of the final scene.
The rocky ledge on the opposite bank is an important feature that is mentioned in early accounts. A matching ledge rises on the east side. That one is not shown: The virtual camera used to make this rendering is positioned right above it.
When planners laid out the final course of the Erie Canal through Rochester, they decided to cross the Genesee here, at the level of the two ledges. This allowed them to maintain the same elevation from the east bank of the Genesee all the way to Lockport, some sixty miles away — the so-called “long level.” As a result, the aqueduct that would carry the canal over the river would have to extend from the rocky ledge on the east side to the one on the west — more than 800 feet — making it the largest masonry structure on the canal.
A fifth member of the commission, Western Union co-founder George H. Mumford, was traveling in Europe and apparently did not contribute to the investigation. ↩︎
Documents of the Assembly of the State of New York, 96th session (Albany: G. Wendell, 1866), issue no. 117, “Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Investigate the causes of the Inundation of the City of Rochester in March, 1865,” page 18; image copy, HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/coo.31924093488496 : accessed 26 December 2024) > image 1132. ↩︎
“Scrantom Letters on the Beginnings of Rochester,” The Rochester Historical Society Publication Fund Series, Vol. 7 (Rochester, New York: Rochester Historical Society, 1928), 174. ↩︎
This view of downtown Rochester, New York, looks west across the Genesee River. It was taken from the east end of the Broad Street Bridge, which is built on top of the second Rochester aqueduct, completed in 1842 as part of the first enlargement of the Erie Canal. Mills and other 19th-century industrial buildings, recently renovated to be used as office space, line the opposite bank; the Main Street Bridge, finished in 1857, is at the far right. (Steve Boerner)
The balance of power between Rochester and the Genesee River would finally begin to shift after 1865.
The river was becoming an increasingly unruly neighbor. Freshets in 1817 and 1819 swept away buildings and damaged mills and millraces. Another in 1835, described by Rochester chronicler Henry O’Reilly as “the greatest flood ever known in the Genesee River,” undermined the west abutment of the second Main Street bridge. The bridge’s successor was carried off by another flood in 1857.1
Observers blamed human activity — clearcutting forests and draining wetlands, and construction of bridges, levees, and other obstructions — and warned that it would only get worse. But no one was prepared for the flood of 1865.
That March the river, swollen by an early spring thaw, roiled through the city. It inundated the new Main Street bridge, undermined buildings on both banks, and nearly crested the parapets of the second aqueduct, 27 feet above the riverbed. It was the most destructive flood in the city’s history, causing an estimated one million dollars in damage.2 In response, a commission was appointed by the state to investigate its causes and to recommend measures to prevent it from happening again.
Their report, published the following year, included a list of seven commonsense remedies that included dismantling obstructions, erecting movable dams, and building retaining walls. But in a supplemental report, Isaac F. Quinby, a mathematics professor at the University of Rochester who had assisted with the committee’s investigations, urged the city to take more drastic action: “To blast out a channel along the axis of the river from High Falls to a point about half way between Main street bridge and the aqueduct, or still better, to a point above the latter structure.” The channel would be seventy feet wide at the top and fifty feet wide at the bottom. Its average depth would be ten feet. Excavating it would be expensive, Quinby warned: An estimated 54,222 cubic yards of rock would need to be removed and 2,926 cubic yards of masonry retaining walls built, all at a cost of $121,611. But if it could be accomplished, his plan would increase the river’s capacity and might spare the city from future inundations.3
But Quinby’s plan was shelved, and for the next several decades the local government did almost nothing to protect the city from high water. The floods became more frequent. From the end of the Civil War to the turn of the century the Genesee inundated nearby neighborhoods nine times. In March 1902 a flood nearly as destructive as the one of 1865 swept through downtown; it was followed by another in July — incredibly, during the high summer season. In February 1904 the river, choked with ice, struck again.4
In 1905 another commission was appointed and another report compiled. Of the seven flood control recommendations made in 1866, the new commissioners noted, only three had been completed and another “partly accomplished.”5 But their report went nowhere; nothing more was done.
The flood of March 1913 would be the wakeup call.
The weather system that created it extended from the lower Ohio Valley to western New York. Over several days a series of storms funneled along a low-pressure trough delivered high winds, tornadoes, hail, and sleet throughout the Midwest and South. Up to nine inches of rain fell on Indiana, Ohio, and northwestern Pennsylvania. Rising water trapped thousands of people; newspapers reported that up to two hundred died in Dayton, Ohio, when fire broke out within the submerged part of the city.6
The Great Flood of 1913 remains one of the most widespread natural disasters in the history of the United States. Newspaper editors, running out of ways to describe the devastation, compared it to the Johnstown Flood of 1889 and the Great Galveston Storm of 1900. Recent estimates of the number of people killed range from 650 to more than 900.7
The record rainfall and resulting runoff flooded communities and interrupted train schedules throughout western New York. In Rochester, on the edge of the storm system, the Genesee River overflowed its banks and filled nearby basements and streets with water. But there were no fatalities.
Steam shovels load broken stone into railroad cars in the bed of the Genesee River in October 1915. The view, probably from the Andrews Street Bridge, looks north toward the old Central Avenue Bridge. Channeling machines, lower right, cut slots to square off the cut and protect the building foundations. (Annual Reports of the Department of Engineering for the City of Rochester, 1914–1916, via Google Books.)
A local newspaper quoted a visiting “Pittsburgh engineer” who, when asked how such events might be averted in the future, recommended straight away that “the river bottom ought to be blasted out from Court Street to the Upper Falls.”8
The Common Council at last was roused to take action. It may have been stung by criticism from local merchants, including the Front Street clothing salesman who posted signs in the windows of his flooded store that read: “Water in here Friday 10 p.m., 4 feet. Damage probably $3,500. Why didn’t the city build retaining walls along the river instead of one-half million Exposition Park?”9 Or perhaps council members looked to Dayton and realized that next time Rochester might not be so lucky.
I. F. Quinby’s nearly fifty-year-old plan was dusted off and that December — nine months after the floodwaters receded — the council approved a contract to deepen the riverbed.10
By now the scale of the project had changed dramatically. The excavation would extend from bank to bank, an average width of 240 feet, from just above Court Street to the brink of the High Falls, a distance of 2,700 feet.11
Contractors constructed a dam down the center of the river so it could be diverted first to one side, then the other, exposing the rocky bed.12 For more than five long years city residents endured the constant din of drilling and blasting and the incessant hammering of steam-powered channeling machines. By the spring of 1919, when the last contract was completed, more than 150,000 cubic yards of rock and earth had been removed — nearly three times Quinby’s 1866 estimate — and the project’s cost had soared to nearly a million dollars.13
The final depth of the excavation is not easy to pin down. The original ordinances specified that the riverbed would be lowered an average of five feet from above the aqueduct to the brink of the High Falls.14 Estimates based on the geology of the riverbed and gorge indicate that the High Falls themselves were lowered about ten feet.15
Within a few years the Court Street Dam would be built in downtown Rochester as part of the new Barge Canal system, which would replace the old Erie Canal and also provide a measure of flood control. The final touch would be added in 1952 with the completion of the Mount Morris Dam, thirty miles south of Rochester. This 230-foot-high dry gravity dam serves as the ultimate backstop, impounding high water during extreme weather events to reduce flooding and protect property from Mount Morris to Lake Ontario.
The Genesee River had finally been tamed, and in the process its historic appearance was permanently changed. This was especially true in downtown Rochester where, for all practical purposes, the river’s channel was by now completely man-made.
This reconstructed view of the Genesee River in 1804 uses the same vantage point as the photograph of downtown Rochester at the top of this post. Less than twenty years from now, engineers designing the Erie Canal will put the first Rochester aqueduct right here, where it will bridge the 800-foot gap between the near bank and the rocky ledge in the distance. (Digital landscape by Steve Boerner)
To help you imagine the extent of these changes, just pretend for a moment that you are accompanying Nathaniel Rochester, William Fitzhugh, and Charles Carroll on their first visit to the Falls of the Genesee. Emerging from the dense forest on the east bank, you are greeted by a landscape much like the one shown here.
The last shelf of the falls reaches across the river to the opposite bank, which rises gradually to the foot of a low, stony ledge. This nondescript feature, which eventually will be buried beneath the city of Rochester, will play a role in the development of the village along with its vibrant flour-milling industry and, eventually, the construction of the Rochester aqueduct.
The year is 1804. Soon a stream of incoming settlers, tentative at first and then becoming more steady, will start the long process of transforming the landscape and river.
Henry O’Reilly, Settlement of the West: Sketches of Rochester; with Incidental Notices of Western New-York (Rochester, New York: William Alling, 1838), 351. Dorothy S. Truesdale, “Historic Main Street Bridge,” Rochester History 3 (April 1941), 12. Report of the Committee on Investigation of Flood Conditions Affecting the City of Rochester, N. Y. (Rochester, New York: W. W. Morrison, 1905), 8; image copy, HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uc1.$b77585 : accessed 29 November 2024) > image 20. ↩︎
Annual Report of the State Engineer and Surveyor of the State of New York for the Fiscal Year Ending September 30, 1896 (Albany: Wynkoop Hallenbeck Crawford, 1897), 33; image copy, HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp.39015067178494 : accessed 29 November 2024) > image 53. ↩︎
Documents of the Assembly of the State of New York, 96th session (Albany: G. Wendell, 1866), doc. no. 117, “Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Investigate the Causes of the Inundation of the City of Rochester in March, 1865,” p. 23–24; image copy, HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/coo.31924093488496: accessed 29 November 2024) > images 1141–1142. ↩︎
Report of the Committee on Investigation of Flood Conditions Affecting the City of Rochester, N. Y. (Rochester, New York: W. W. Morrison. 1905), table, 45–46; image copy, HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uc1.$b77585 : accessed 29 November 2024) > images 75–76. ↩︎
“Hotel and 200 People Burned,” The (Rochester, New York) Democrat and Chronicle, 27 March 1913, p. 2, col. 2; image copy, Newspapers.com (https://www.newspapers.com/image/135734903 : accessed 29 November 2024). ↩︎
“After Attack on City River Gives Ground,” The (Rochester, New York) Democrat and Chronicle, 30 March 1913, p. 27, col. 1; image copy, Newspapers.com (https://www.newspapers.com/image/135734990 : accessed 29 November 2024). ↩︎
“Final Ordinance 4379: Construction of Movable Dams and Deepening Genesee River Bed,” Proceedings of the Common Council of the City of Rochester: 1913 (Rochester, New York: Rochester Herald Press, 1914), 612; image copy, Google Books (https://www.google.com/books/edition/_/YWkwAQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0 : accessed 29 November 2024). ↩︎
“Genesee River Flood Protection for the Year 1916,” Annual Reports of the Department of Engineer of the City of Rochester for the Years 1914, 1915 and 1916 (Rochester, New York: John P. Smith, 1917), 5: image copy, Google Books (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Annual_Report/-uA2AQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0 : accessed 30 November 2024). ↩︎
The foundation of this dam can still be seen during periods of low water. ↩︎
“Deepening Genesee River for Flood Protection,” Annual Reports of the Department of Engineering of the City of Rochester: Years 1917, 1918, 1919 and 1920 (Rochester, New York: John P. Smith, 1921), 6; image copy, Google Books (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Annual_Report/Kd42AQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0 : accessed 29 November 2024). “H. W. Rippy Obtains Figures,” The (Rochester) Democrat and Chronicle, 1 November 1919, p. 15, col. 2; image copy, Newspapers.com (https://www.newspapers.com/image/135411869 : accessed 29 November 2024). The newspaper reported that the city paid $839,781.49; adding $115,000 paid to cover a loss by the contractor brings the total to $954,781.49, or more than $16 million in today’s currency: “CPI Inflation Calculator,” U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (https://www.bls.gov/data/inflation_calculator.htm). ↩︎
Report by the public works committee, Proceedings of the Common Council of the City of Rochester: 1913 (Rochester, New York: Rochester Herald Press, 1914), 611; image copy, Google Books (https://www.google.com/books/edition/_/YWkwAQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0 : accessed 29 November 2024). ↩︎
Thomas X. Grasso, “Geology and History of the Rochester Gorge, Part One.” Rochester History 54 (Fall 1992), 21. ↩︎
The four-story Red Mill (center right) is prominently featured in this detail from a hand-drawn, early 19th-century map of Rochester. North is to the right. The Genesee River flows from left to right, with artificial mill races branching off either side to supply water power to several mills and factories. On the west side of the river (top), from left: the sawmill of John C. Rochester and Harvey Montgomery; and the sawmill and Red Mill of Ely & Co. On the east side, from left: Hervey Ely’s two sawmills; the clothworks; the paper mill built in 1818 by Derrick Sibley and Harvey Gilman; William Atkinson’s Yellow Mill, built in 1817; an unidentified mill; and William Johnson’s oil and woolen mills, built in 1818. The map’s origin and date are uncertain. The lack of any reference to the Erie Canal and aqueduct would seem to place it before the summer of 1821; however, the unidentified mill may be Hervey Ely’s Etna Mill, completed in 1822. (Rochester Historical Society)
The raising of the Red Mill was cause for celebration in the Hundred Acre Tract.
Finished in 1815, the four-story structure became the first gristmill on the tract since Ebenezer Allan’s failed effort twenty years before. Allan’s mill employed one pair of crudely carved millstones; the Red Mill’s large overshot wheel powered four.1 Supplied with grain harvested on the Genesee Flats and shipped north in Durham boats,2 it was intended to put Rochesterville on the map.
“It was the greatest thing that had been done for the locality and, for years, that mill continued to grind the ‘grists’ that crowded to its doors from far and near,” wrote Maude Motley, who would be born decades later into a prominent Rochester milling family. “It was not unusual for men waiting their turn for grinding to spend the whole night in that first red mill, beguiling the time by telling stories and drinking.”3
Four years earlier, the future had not seemed so bright.
In late 1811 the Hundred Acre Tract was nearly untouched wilderness. Near a shelf of natural rock by the Upper Falls, the pitiful remains of Allan’s mills lay crumbling into the earth. His sawmill had been swept away by a freshet in 1803 — a harbinger of things to come — and the gristmill had burned four years later.4
Nathaniel Rochester, then 59 years old, spent several weeks patiently laying out a city that for the moment existed only in his imagination. He then hired a neighbor, Enos Stone, as his agent and returned to his farm in Dansville. Stone purchased the first lot that November.5
More than anyone, Rochester understood the tract’s waterpower potential and wished to take advantage of it by building his own mill there. But he was broke.
“I have been to the Falls of Genesee lately, and laid out & sold some more lots, say about twenty-five in all,” he wrote that November to his brother-in-law. “And for want of funds to build a good Merchant Mill there, I have leased a Mill seat for ten years, which will contribute very much to the improvement of the Town & neighborhood.”6
Rochester did not specify who had taken the lease. But an earlier letter from his partner Charles Carroll offers a clue: “We have no hesitation in acceding to the offer of Genl. M’Clure & Mr. Cameron to erect a merchant mill on any part of our Estate.”7
“Genl. M’Clure & Mr. Cameron” likely would have been George McClure and Dugald Cameron of Bath, Steuben County. McClure, a miller and farmer, “also became the local postmaster, county judge, state legislator, and a brigadier general in command of the county militia.”8 Any plans he may have had for the Hundred Acre Tract would have been interrupted by the War of 1812; his part in that did not go well and ended with him shouldering much of the blame for the burning of Buffalo.
Ely & Co.
Meanwhile, the war had put a stranglehold on the Hundred Acre Tract. McClure’s contract having fallen through (if indeed there ever was one), Rochester and his partners were ready to find someone else who could build a gristmill, demonstrate the site’s potential, and kick its development into gear.
They had good reason to press ahead. Competing settlements at the Middle and Lower Falls — Hanford’s Landing and Franklin to the north, and Carthage to the northeast — threatened to siphon off settlers and surpass Rochesterville. At any moment Enos Stone, in Brighton on the opposite bank, might begin selling lots adjacent to the river that, after the construction of a raceway, could be used as mill seats.
Gristmills at the Genesee Falls would have used a system developed in the late 1780s by Oliver Evans of Newport, Delaware, who combined existing technology with machines of his own invention to grind, dry, sift, and pack finished flour into barrels — the first automated assembly line. The process, for which he received one of the nation’s first patents, dramatically reduced waste and the labor required to mill grain. In his book describing the new process, “The Young Mill-Wright & Miller’s Guide,” he calculated that it could save a mill operator $298 a year. “A mill that made 40 barrels a day, required four men and a boy,” he wrote. “Two men are now sufficient.” (Library of Congress.)
The appearance in 1813 of two brothers from West Springfield, Massachusetts, provided the catalyst that Rochester and his partners needed.
The Ely brothers — Elisha was 32, Hervey, 22 — arrived brimming with self-confidence and determination. They had practical experience in water-powered manufacturing: Elisha and his older half-brother, Alexander, had operated a wool-carding mill in Massachusetts.9 The Elys opened a store on Buffalo Street and erected a sawmill that would commence business the following spring.10 Then Elisha Ely applied for and received water rights for seven years on the primitive raceway and negotiated a lease for a lot on which to build a gristmill.11
The terms of the lease have not surfaced, but Rochester may have sweetened the deal by making it rent-free, at least initially.12 At any rate, the Elys and their partner Josiah Bissell Jr. proceeded to build their four-story mill and finished it with a coat of red paint.
Rochester, Fitzhugh, and Carroll remained steadfast in their commitment not to sell any mill seats in the Hundred Acre Tract. Not even to family: Nathaniel Rochester, whose son John C. Rochester and son-in-law Harvey Montgomery built a sawmill near the Red Mill, retained ownership of the property and required a lease for the mill.13
After building a store, a sawmill, and a gristmill in the Hundred Acre Tract, Ely & Co. hedged their bets in 1815 by purchasing two lots from Stone.14 They also leased a third lot that included a sawmill;15 two years later Hervey Ely would build a second, larger sawmill next to it.16 North of the sawmills stood a carding machine and woolen clothworks with a yard full of tenter bars on which the fulled cloth was stretched to dry.17
Stone’s efforts to develop his Brighton property had been haphazard. Contracts drawn up for the mill lots he sold included a section committing him to build a raceway to supply water to them. But he never got around to building it. William Atkinson used the lots he occupied to store lumber and barrels while he waited for the water that someday would power a mill.18
Advertising placed by Elisha Johnson in newspapers throughout the northeast United States, including the July 7, 1817, edition of the Rochester Telegraph, mentioned the water lots (mill lots) that were for sale and made special note of the canal (raceway) that he had built to supply water to them. (FultonHistory.com.)
“The capitalist and the man of enterprize”
So things stood until 1817, when Elisha Johnson arrived at the Genesee Falls.
A Yankee from Wells, Vermont, Johnson had relocated as a young man to western New York, where he found work as a surveyor.19 He had come to the Falls at the behest of the founders of Carthage, and for them Johnson laid out a classic New England town with a promenade along the edge of the gorge and a central square.20
When he was finished he may have looked south to Enos Stone’s farm and sensed an opportunity.
Exhibiting some skill as an entrepreneur as well as a surveyor, Johnson negotiated the purchase of Stone’s farm and a mortgage (financed by Stone) that would allow him to pay off its $10,000 price over ten years with no interest. The terms of the mortgage also required Johnson to build the millrace that Stone had for so long put off.21 Johnson then sold a fifty percent stake in his purchase to a group of Canandaigua investors. They agreed to pay Johnson $10,000 in several installments over five years with interest, and to pay half of his mortgage to Stone. The investors — Orson Seymour, Harris Seymour, and Punderson B. Underhill — also agreed to pay for half of the new raceway.22
Mortgaged to the hilt, Johnson did not stop there. He made a proper survey, laying down streets, town lots, mill seat lots, and a public square.23 (He later would have the resulting map professionally engraved and printed.) He opened a land office on his new Main Street and, to attract purchasers, placed ads in newspapers across the Northeast. When he boasted in the advertisement that “there is no village in the western country . . . which offers to the capitalist and the man of enterprize so many inducements for settlement, as Rochester,” he may have had himself in mind.24
He also began blasting a channel for the long-awaited raceway.
It was a massive and expensive undertaking. The dam and raceway — four feet deep, up to 60 feet wide, and a thousand feet long — would reportedly end up costing $12,000. By the end of the year the raceway extended to lot No. 4, on which Atkinson’s new mill, painted bright yellow and containing three run of stones, could now open for business.25
The Yellow Mill, built by William Atkinson in 1817, survived into the 1830s when it was owned by Meech, Rice & Co. In 1838 Henry O’Reilly included an engraving of it in his book “Settlement in the West: Sketches of Rochester; with Incidental Notices of Western New York.” In the engraving it is dwarfed by the much larger Crescent Mills of Thomas Emerson, built in 1835. (Internet Archive.)
More development followed. In 1818 Derick Sibley and partner Harvey Gilman purchased mill seat lot No. 8, built a three-story paper mill, and were soon making newsprint for the Rochester Telegraph.26On lot Nos. 1 and 2, north of the Yellow Mill, Johnson’s younger brother William opened a flax-seed oil mill and a woolen mill.27
East side, west side
Ten days after buying Enos Stone’s Brighton farm, Johnson had written to Nathaniel Rochester with a business proposition:
“In the course of this week I propose adopting a plan of opperation in relation to the water priviledges opposite to yours at this place . . . & considering that a plan ought to be adopted that would be mutually for our interests & believing some improvement may be made that would particularly be for your benefit, makes me anxious to see you at this place the latter part of this week.”28
Johnson’s “plan of opperation” involved the construction of a mill dam across the river above the Upper Falls. The dam would impound the water and divert it into the raceways on both banks. The water would be shared fifty-fifty. Johnson also may have proposed sharing the cost of building guard gates on each of the races as well as a few property adjustments. We do not know, because the terms of the contract have not survived. But either they were not clearly defined or there was willful misunderstanding of what they meant, because the agreement and the dam would become a source of vexation and conflict for years to come.
Charles Carroll would forever remain suspicious of Johnson. Months later, after the troubles began, he would confess that when Johnson made his proposal “I suspected something sinister, for ‘timeo Danaos & dona ferentes’ & I wanted no compromise or terms with them.”29
Detail from a map of Rochester, possibly drawn by Elisha Johnson around 1820, shows the mill seat lots on either side of the Genesee River with the steps of the Upper Falls in between: Johnson and his partner Orson Seymour’s properties on the east side; and Rochester, Carroll, and Fitzhugh’s properties on the west side. (Rochester Historical Society.)
Competition from Johnson may have prompted a suggestion by Rochester to improve the raceway on his side by moving it slightly west, where it would extend further along the natural rock shelf. “It would give us more fall,” he wrote to his partners, “and more Mill Seats.”30 Rochester, Carroll, and Fitzhugh that summer signed an agreement to divide up the remaining unsold properties in the Hundred Acre Tract.31
Unlike Rochester and his partners, Johnson had no qualms about selling the mill seats he had so meticulously plotted out. His goal was to make a quick profit and they were immediately put on the market.
The different approaches may have been partly cultural. Rochester, Carroll, and Fitzhugh, southerners all, traced their lineage back to a traditional society where most property was controlled by an aristocracy of land-owning families and worked by slave labor.
Johnson was from New England, where the colonial tradition of owning land in common had given way to individual fee-simple ownership. Combined with an unabashed preoccupation with making money, this could sometimes result in extreme land speculation schemes. Oliver Phelps and Nathaniel Gorham, fellow New Englanders who had been the first to try their hand at real estate in western New York, had purchased millions of acres but soon after had to surrender a large part of their investment and sell out. Johnson’s project was much smaller scale, but it was a still a calculated risk.
There also was a physical difference between the two sides. Johnson’s mill seats and raceway were protected by a high, stony bank. Those on the west side were built on a low alluvial deposit that sloped gradually up to the rocky shelf on which the village of Rochesterville was laid out. Wittingly or not, Rochester and his partners were erecting their industrial infrastructure — raceway, mills, and warehouses — in a flood zone.32
“Low down as the bed of the river — to the rock”
The Genesee’s last major flood had been in 1803, before the area had been settled. That was the one that had carried off the remains of Ebenezer Allan’s sawmill.33
Now the river struck again.
The Freshet of 1817 would be widely reported as one of the worst floods in memory. The weather system that spawned it covered much of the country, raising rivers and spreading misery from the Ohio to the Susquehanna.34
In western New York the rain began falling on Friday, October 31, and it did not abate until the following Sunday morning. By then the Genesee River had spilled over its banks and inundated the flats between Geneseo and Leicester. The torrent damaged the toll bridge between those settlements and swept away fields of corn and wheat ready for harvest. At Avon two wagons and their teams were lost when the ferry carrying them became fouled against a bridge. At Allen’s Creek an entire flock of sheep was carried off. And in Leicester several families had to be rescued by boat, with one family desperately removing their cabin roof for use as a raft.35
A few days later the crest reached Rochesterville. It flooded the raceways, undermined John Rochester’s sawmill, and washed away several feet of the riverbank near the west end of the bridge, taking several structures with it.
“The river has continued to rise since you left here,” John C. Rochester wrote to his father on November 7. “It’s taken away the shop built by Curtis & 1 part & all the under work of my saw mill. . . . The village has been constantly busy securing the West end of the Bridge & Mr. Johnson’s race towards the head which broke away two or three times.”36
As the water subsided the extent of the damage became clear. “It has worn away very little above the race,” John wrote. But “the land where Curtises shop the Slaughter house & store is extremely washed away . . . low down as the bed of the river — to the rock.”37
The November 19 edition of the Geneva Gazette summed it up. “At Rochester, two buildings were swept away, and considerable damage done to the mills, dams, &c. by the late flood.”38
Charles Carroll at once recognized a longer-term consequence of the flood — bad publicity — and was quick to assign blame. He was certain that the damage had been aggravated by the height of the new mill dam and hinted that Johnson may have built it that way on purpose. “We have already in public estimation sustained irreparable injury by the report of the destruction of the mills & the inundation of the Village,” he wrote. “It is all important to us, & the more we suffer in the eyes of the Public, the better for Brighton. I have learnt enough of Yankees to dread & fear their wiles & offers . . . Take heed my frd or they will be yr ruin.”39
The worst flood in Rochester’s history struck in March 1865. Buildings and other encroachments in the Genesee River were blamed for the inundation, which swept over the Main Street Bridge and undermined the foundations of buildings on both banks. This photograph looks west across the river with Main Street in the foreground. The six-story structure at the far left is the New Red Mill, built in 1822 by Harvey Montgomery and Thomas H. Rochester — a rare and perhaps unique example of one of the original Upper Falls gristmills surviving long enough to be photographed. It would be demolished five years later to make way for new construction. (From the collection of the Rochester Public Library Local History & Genealogy Division.)
The flood of 1817 would be followed by many others. When high water again threatened his raceway in early February 1819, a weary Nathaniel Rochester begged Elisha Johnson for help: “I have been busily engaged since I wrote you last with four Irishmen endeavoring to secure the guardlock with frozen sod and some stones, having nothing else to do it with, and I fear they will do no good. . . . I am very low in spirit, and know not what to do for the best.”40
Rochester and his fellow citizens were being schooled in the river’s annual rhythm: high water in late fall, high water again in winter or early spring (often accompanied by ice), and a dry spell that spanned late summer and early fall. It was a harsh lesson. The dry season coincided with the grain harvest, the busiest time for the village’s nascent milling industry. Then the mills needed every drop of water they could get. The dam would stay.
The floods of 1817 and 1819 had other consequences.
Perhaps exhausted by the worry and effort needed to protect and maintain his property, and beset with unrelated financial problems, the now 67-year-old Nathaniel Rochester redoubled his efforts to liquidate his remaining real estate holdings in the Hundred Acre Tract. This included his mill seats, beginning with lot No. 12 near the west end of the bridge, which was divided between Thomas Morgan’s nail factory and blacksmith William Cobb’s triphammer mill.41
In 1822, Rochester, Fitzhugh and Carroll signed a new partition agreement to merge and reorganize the mill lots.42 The lease for John C. Rochester’s sawmill was assumed by Rochester’s son-in-law, Jonathan Child, who also bought its lot, No. 6, along with several other properties.43 Rochester sold neighboring lot No. 5 to his son Thomas H. Rochester and other son-in-law Harvey Montgomery.44 On it they constructed the tract’s second gristmill. It, too, was painted red, and became known as the New Red Mill.45 Finally, the original Red Mill and its lot, No. 2, were sold to Ebenezer S. Beach.46
“The most safe and cheap passing of the Genesee river”
The floods also may have influenced the Erie Canal commissioners’ decision in late 1819 to build a stone aqueduct across the Genesee River.
The idea of building an aqueduct had been around at least since 1811, when it was mentioned in the canal commissioners’ first annual report to the state legislature.47 But since then James Geddes, the engineer most familiar with Rochester, had recommended using a slackwater crossing instead.48 When he completed his survey of the Western Section in 1816, that is what was shown on his map and described in his report to the Canal Commission.49
Slackwater crossings sometimes were used to traverse rivers that obstructed the line of the canal. The canal would be connected to the river, which was dammed below the crossing to create a pond of still water on which boats could safely cross. Guard locks on both sides of the crossing would lower the boats to the level of the river and prevent it from flooding the canal during periods of high water. The horse or mule teams that towed the boats would cross on a timber bridge.
They were seen as simpler alternatives to aqueducts. But tying unpredictable rivers to the canal was risky. Destructive floods could render a crossing unusable and might damage the canal. Dry spells might strand boats and back up traffic for weeks.
But it was understood that Geddes’s 1816 survey was subject to change. Three years later, as the canal commissioners prepared to let contracts for the Western Section, fresh survey teams were dispatched.50 The team led by engineer Canvass White would begin at Rochester and head east. He was specifically instructed by Commissioner Myron Holley to “ascertain carefully where the Genesee could best be crossed.”51
When he visited Rochester that summer, White may have viewed firsthand some of the lingering evidence of the recent floods and realized that it was high time to scrap the notion of a water-level crossing and build an aqueduct instead. If he needed more encouragement, all he had to do was take a good look at Elisha Johnson’s raceway. It pointed like an arrow to the base of the Upper Falls, where the water was shallow and the rocky riverbed would make a perfect foundation for a large masonry structure.
The state had granted almost unlimited power to the canal commissioners to seize any property they needed to complete the canal.52 Elisha Johnson had already done the hard work of blasting a channel that could now serve as the eastern approach to an aqueduct that would cross the river in the very heart of the village. It was just the right size. All they had to do was take it.
Which is what they did. To compensate Johnson, a new raceway would be built parallel to the canal in the bed of the river.53
At the October meeting of the canal commissioners in Utica, Chief Engineer Benjamin Wright reported on the results of the new surveys and offered three options for the canal route between the Seneca and Genesee rivers. The second option, Wright noted, included “the advantages of the most safe and cheap passing of the Genesee river, by an aqueduct near the bridge at Rochester, where rock-bottom to the river and stone for the structure are at hand.”54 The commissioners selected this option by a vote of three to one.55 At last the way was clear.
By then the Canal Commission and its cadre of self-taught engineers had been toiling away on the Erie Canal for more than two years. They were justifiably proud of what they had accomplished and this may have influenced their decision. A stone aqueduct over the Genesee River would comprise “the greatest mass of mason work contained in any one structure” on the canal.56
They were confident they could build it. Why not try?
Documents of the Assembly of the State of New-York, Seventy-Seventh Session, vol. 2 (Albany: C. Van Benthuysen, 1854), doc. no. 63: “Communication from the Canal Appraisers in Relation to the Claims of Jacob Graves and Others, Mill Owners, at Rochester,” p. 59, transcription of a statement by Hervey Ely; imaged at HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uiug.30112105707969 : accessed 12 December 2023) > image 599. ↩︎
Henry E. Rochester, “The Genesee River and Western New York,” Publications of the Rochester Historical Society (Rochester, New York: Rochester Historical Society, 1892), 1:67. ↩︎
Maude Motley, “The Romance of Milling: With Rochester the Flour City,” Centennial History of Rochester, New York, ed. Edward R. Foreman (Rochester, New York: Rochester Historical Society, 1931), 1:175. ↩︎
William F. Peck, Semi-Centennial History of the City of Rochester (Syracuse, New York: Mason & Co., 1884), 78. ↩︎
Colonel Nathaniel Rochester’s Account Book [1811–1822]; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York; Rochester Public Library microfilm Rr333.333 R676c; Rochester Public Library, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Nathaniel Rochester to Elie Beatty, letter, 19 November 1811; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Charles Carroll to Nathaniel Rochester, letter, 17 August 1811; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Alan Taylor, The Civil War of 1812: American Citizens, British Subjects, Irish Rebels, & Indian Allies (New York: Knopf, 2010), 247. ↩︎
“Pittsfield Factory,” Pittsfield (Massachusetts) Sun, 7 June 1806, p. 3, col. 4; image copy, Newspapers.com (https://www.newspapers.com/image/531979706 : accessed 21 November 2023). ↩︎
Howard L. Osgood, “Rochester: Its Founders and Its Founding,” Publications of the Rochester Historical Society, Publication Fund Series (Rochester, New York: Rochester Historical Society, 1922), 1:67. ↩︎
Nathaniel Rochester to William Fitzhugh, 18 June 1814, letter; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Hervey Ely to Nathaniel Rochester, letter, 12 March 1823; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Nathaniel Rochester to Harvey Montgomery and John C. Rochester, sawmill lease agreement, 14 March 1816; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Ontario County, New York, Land Records, Liber 25:326, Enos Stone to Hervey Ely, Elisha Ely, and Josiah Bissel Jr., 17 January 1814; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QSQ-G9WH-N9MJ-K : accessed 21 November 2023), Ontario > Deeds 1815-1816 vol. 24-25 > image 432 of 511; citing Ontario County Clerk’s Office, Canandaigua, New York. ↩︎
Documents of the Assembly of the State of New-York, Seventy-Seventh Session, vol. 2 (Albany: C. Van Benthuysen, 1854), doc. no. 63, pp. 223–225, transcription of Enos Stone to Hervey Ely, Elisha Ely, and Josiah Bissell Jr., 1 May 1815; imaged at HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uiug.30112105707969 : accessed 12 December 2023) > images 763–765. ↩︎
Documents of the Assembly of the State of New-York, Seventy-Seventh Session, vol. 2 (Albany: C. Van Benthuysen, 1854), doc. no. 63, p. 59, transcription of a statement by Hervey Ely; imaged at HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uiug.30112105707969 : accessed 12 December 2023) > image 599. ↩︎
Ontario County, New York, Land Records, Liber 23:240, Isaac Stone to Elisha Cobb, 1 January 1814; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-99WH-J145 : accessed 21 November 2023) Ontario > Deeds 1814-1815 vol 22-23 > image 418 of 601; citing Ontario County Clerk’s Office, Canandaigua, New York. ↩︎
Documents of the Assembly of the State of New-York, Seventy-Seventh Session, vol. 2 (Albany: C. Van Benthuysen, 1854), doc. no. 63, p. 59, transcription of testimony by Everard Peck; imaged at HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uiug.30112105707969 : accessed 12 December 2023) > image 616. ↩︎
John S. Minard, Allegany County and Its People: A Centennial Memorial History of Allegany County, New York (W. A. Fergusson & Co.: Alfred, New York, 1896), 56. ↩︎
Susan Huntington Hooker, “The Rise and Fall of Carthage,” Publications of the Rochester Historical Society, Publication Fund Series (Rochester, New York: Rochester Historical Society, 1922), 2:207. ↩︎
Ontario County, New York, Land Records, Liber 28:98, Enos Stone and Clarisa his wife to Elisha Johnson, 6 May 1817; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-99WH-J7L7 : accessed 21 November 2023), Ontario > Deeds 1817-1818 vol 28-29 > image 54 of 571; citing Ontario County Clerk’s Office, Canandaigua, New York. Ontario County, New York, Mortgages, 8:375, Elisha Johnson and Betsy [sic] his wife to Enos Stone, 6 May 1817, consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-L9WX-SWRT : accessed 21 November 2023), Ontario > Mortgages 1814-1817 vol 7-8 > image 498 of 644; citing Ontario County Clerk’s Office, Canandaigua, New York. ↩︎
Ontario County, New York, Land Records, Liber 28:417, Elisha Johnson and Betsey his wife to Punderson B. Underhill, Harris Seymour, and Orson Seymour, 24 July 1817; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-99WH-J4X8 : accessed 21 November 2023), Ontario > Deeds 1817-1818 vol 28-29 > image 217 of 571; citing Ontario County Clerk’s Office, Canandaigua, New York. ↩︎
The public square would become Rochester’s Washington Square Park. ↩︎
“Land Office,” The New-York Columbian, 6 January 1818, p. 3, col. 1; image copy, Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers (access through participating libraries : accessed 14 November 2023). ↩︎
A Directory for the Village of Rochester: Containing the Names, Residence and Occupations of All Male Inhabitants Over Fifteen Years of Age in Said Village, on the First of January, 1827. To Which is Added, a Sketch of the History of the Village, from 1812 to 1827 (Rochester, New York: Elisha Ely, 1827), 92. ↩︎
Ontario County, New York, Land Records, Liber 33:245, Elisha Johnson and Betsey his wife and Orson Seymour and Caroline Maria his wife to Harvey Gilman and Derick Sibley, 14 May 1819, consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QSQ-G9WH-KKSJ : accessed 21 November 2023), Ontario > Deeds 1818-1819 vol 32-33 > image 452 of 544; citing Ontario County Clerk’s Office, Canandaigua, New York. Gilman and Sibley’s Paper Mill, The Rochester (New York) Telegraph, 13 October 1818, p. 2, col 5; image copy, NYS Historic Newspapers (https://nyshistoricnewspapers.org/?a=d&d=rot18181013-01.1.2&e=——-en-20–1–txt-txIN———- : accessed 21 November 2023). ↩︎
Elisha Johnson to Nathaniel Rochester, letter, 16 May 1817; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Timeō Danaōs et dōna ferentēs: “I fear the Greeks even when bearing gifts,” quoting Virgil’s Aeneid; Charles Carroll to Nathaniel Rochester, letter, 6 November 1817; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Nathaniel Rochester to Charles Carroll and William Fitzhugh, letter, 29 September 1817; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Genesee County, New York, Land Records, Liber 11:160, Charles Carroll, William Fitzhugh, and Nathaniel Rochester, 13 August 1817; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-L9WR-KZ85 : accessed 21 November 2023), Genesee > Deeds 1817-1818 vol 10-11 > image 354 of 538; Genesee County Clerk’s Office, Batavia, New York. ↩︎
Documents of the Assembly of the State of New York, Eighty-Ninth Session, vol. 5 (Albany: C. Wendell, 1866), doc. no. 117: “Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Investigate the Causes of the Inundation of the City of Rochester in March, 1865,” p. 18; imaged at HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/coo.31924093488496 : accessed 12 December 2023) > image 1132. ↩︎
William F. Peck, Landmarks of Monroe County, New York (Boston: Boston History Company, 1895), 148. ↩︎
Ohio River Rises 40 Feet, Hampden Federalist (Springfield, Massachusetts), 4 December 1817; Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers (access through participating libraries: accessed 18 November 2023). Susquehannah Swelled to an Unusual Height, (New York) Commercial Advertiser, 15 November 1817; Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers (access through participating libraries: accessed 18 November 2023). ↩︎
“Destructive Flood,” (Cooperstown, New York) Watch-Tower, 27 November 1817, p. 3, col. 1, from the Genesee Farmer; image copy, Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers (access through participating libraries: accessed 14 November 2023). ↩︎
John C. Rochester to Nathaniel Rochester, letter, 7 November 1817; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
John C. Rochester to Nathaniel Rochester, letter, 10 November 1817; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Charles Carroll to Nathaniel Rochester, letter, 9 November 1817; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Nathaniel Rochester to Elisha Ely, letter, 4 November 1819; Nathaniel Rochester Papers; Rochester Historical Society, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Genesee County, New York, Land Records, Liber 14:180, Nathaniel Rochester to Thomas Morgan, 9 November 1819; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-89WR-ZJ7L : accessed 22 November 2023), Genesee > Deeds 1818-1823 vol 14-15 > image 391 of 607; citing Genesee County Clerk’s Office, Batavia, New York. Monroe County, New York, Land Records, Liber 28:473, Nathaniel Rochester to William Cobb, 9 November 1819; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-99WF-Q3V : accessed 22 November 2023), Monroe > Deeds 1833-1834 vol 28 > image 485 of 595; Monroe County Clerk’s Office, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Monroe County, New York, Land Records, Liber 2:117, Charles Carroll, Nathaniel Rochester, and William Fitzhugh, 19 September 1822; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-99WF-7ZZW : accessed 22 November 2023), Monroe > Deeds 1822-1823 vol 2 > image 120 of 550; Monroe County Clerk’s Office, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Monroe County, New York, Land Records, Liber 2:131, Nathaniel Rochester and Sophia, his wife, to Jonathan Child, 8 October 1822; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-89WF-7D4K : accessed 22 November 2023), Monroe > Deeds 1822-1823 vol 2 > image 134 of 550; Monroe County Clerk’s Office, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Monroe County, New York, Land Records, Liber 2:256, Nathaniel Rochester and Sophia, his wife, to Harvey Montgomery and Thomas H. Rochester, 25 December 1822; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-L9WF-789D : accessed 22 November 2023), Monroe > Deeds 1822-1823 vol 2 > image 259 of 550; Monroe County Clerk’s Office, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Monroe County, New York, Land Records, Liber 1:208, Charles Carroll and Ann his wife, William Fitzhugh and Ann his wife, and Nathaniel Rochester and Sophia his wife to Ebenezer S. Beach, 14 August 1821; consulted as “United States, New York Land Records, 1630-1975,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QSQ-G9WF-Q7SK : accessed 22 November 2023), Monroe > Deeds 1821-1822 vol 1 > image 211 of 749; Monroe County Clerk’s Office, Rochester, New York. ↩︎
Laws of the State of New York, in Relation to the Erie and Champlain Canals, vol. 1 (Albany: E. and E. Hosford, 1825), 61, 66; imaged at HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/hvd.hwsr1t : accessed 12 December 2023) > images 79, 84. ↩︎
Myron Holley to Henry O’Reilly, letter, 18 December 1837, in O’Reilly, Settlement in the West. Sketches of Rochester; with Incidental Notices of Western New-York (Rochester: William Alling, 1838), 220. ↩︎
Laws of the State of New York . . . Canals, vol. 1, p. 360: “An Act Respecting Navigable Communications, Between the Great Western and Northern Lakes, and the Atlantic Ocean,” sect. 3; imaged at HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/hvd.hwsr1t) > image 384. ↩︎
Documents of the Assembly of the State of New-York, Sixty-Second Session, vol. 5 (Albany: E. Croswell, 1839), doc. no. 283: “Report of the Committee on Canals and Internal Improvements on the Several Memorials of Hervey Ely, Wm. Fitzhugh, Jonathan Child, Thomas Kempshall, Joseph Strong, Maltby Strong and John T. Potter,” p. 5–6, transcription of mill owners’ memorial; imaged at HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uc1.b2998836 : accessed 12 December 2023) > images 435–436. ↩︎
