uring
the course of writing these personal sketches, it's become obvious that
a very large number of people moved to, lived in and finally died in Penn
Yan, without necessarily leaving a noticeable trace behind, even for those
of us who are interested in their lives. Even in a work such as this which
is dedicated to ordinary people, it's not always easy to find out many details.
One such ordinary man
was James Smith. He and his family moved in 1812 from Goshen in Orange County,
N.Y., to a farm in Benton, about halfway between Penn Yan and Benton Center.
One story they told of this move was that as their wagon crept along the
unpaved road from Benton Center they saw so many peach trees that in some
places they lined both sides of the road, and they were all in full bloom.
Smith was the owner
of about 300 acres of good grain land -- in those early years and up until
the time of the Civil War, grain was the cash crop; much of it was distilled
into whiskey so it could be shipped more easily to market, and of course
a fair amount was consumed more or less on the spot. Before these crops
could be raised, though, the land had all to be cleared of trees, huge trees
on the best land; generally they were girdled to kill them, so a thin crop
of corn could be planted in between. The dead trees were burned where they
stood (hardwood ashes were the very first cash crop, sent to Albany in the
winter to provide the raw material for potash and pearl ash manufacture)
or cut and shaped into timber for building purposes, or dragged into Penn
Yan to be sawn into boards. It was unrelenting, back-breaking labor for
every member of the family.
During the year 1812
there were several serious alarms, as war had been declared on Great Britain,
and people on the frontier were always cognizant of the danger from the
Indians forced off their own farms and then subsisting on handouts from
the British and Canadians at Niagara. Smith was actually drafted to serve,
but since he had a young family to support, he hired a substitute. Later,
when news arrived that the British had landed at Sodus, Smith headed in
that direction alone, gun in hand. He arrived at Sodus, finding the place
burned to the ground, the British having left. He remained with other volunteers
at Sodus for three days, and was then discharged to walk back to his farm
in Benton. Perhaps this experience explains his later delight in raising
good horses.
Smith's wife Ruth died
in November, 1820. People who attended the funeral on the 15th of that month
later remembered that there was 18 inches of snow on the ground. James Smith
survived his wife more than 40 years, dying 17 June 1861 at the age of 80.
Members of the family are buried in Penn Yan's Lake View Cemetery.
The couple had one
son and five daughters; they married into some of Penn Yan's most prominent
families: