The Seneca Chief

By Alice Askins, Site Manager of Rose Hill Mansion

View of Geneva, ca. 1836.  The steamboats are the Geneva (formerly the Seneca Chief) and Stevens.

In 1807, people on the west bank of the Hudson River saw a strange boat.  It was Robert Fulton’s North River Steamboat, often called the Clermont.  The boat was the first vessel to prove that steam propulsion would work for commercial river traffic. According to the book Great Fortunes: 

“What seemed strange in the vessel was the substitution of lofty and straight black smoke-pipes, rising from the deck, instead of . . . gracefully tapered masts . . . and, in place of the spars and rigging, the curious play of the working-beam and pistons, and the slow turning and splashing of the huge and naked paddle-wheels . . . The dense clouds of smoke, as they rose wave upon wave, added still more to the wonderment . . “.

In 1817, steam propulsion spread to Lake Ontario when a consortium in Sackets Harbor funded the construction of the first US Great Lakes steamboat, the Ontario.  By the late 1820s Seneca Lake had its first steamboat, the Seneca Chief.  It was built for and operated by the Rumney brothers, Geneva merchants.

The Chief’s keel was laid in Geneva on December 12, 1827.  Originally the boat was 90 feet long, 19 feet wide, eight feet high, and the draft was four and a half feet.  In June 1828, the Geneva Gazette reported that the Chief’s engines were between 40 and 45 horsepower, and would propel the boat at 10 to 12 miles per hour.   

Launched in May 1828, the Chief’s first official trip was part of the Independence Day celebrations (the exact date is uncertain, as different sources mention different dates).  The Gazette reported,

“We are indebted to a friend for the following account of an excursion made on Saturday last, from Geneva to the head of the Seneca Lake, on board the Seneca Chief, by a party of Ladies and Gentlemen, which . . . amounted to one hundred and thirty persons. The day was uncommonly fine, the party in excellent spirits . . . The Boat left the Harbor at Geneva precisely at 8 o'clock in the morning . . . The country on each bank of the Lake excited universal admiration among the passengers . . . between four and five thousand persons assembled at [the head of the lake]  . . . to greet the Steam Boat on its first trip . . . After stopping here about two hours, the Boat set out on its return to Geneva, where she arrived at eight o'clock, having been a little more than five hours going, and rather less in returning.  Part of the way down her speed was equal to ten miles an hour, without raising the pressure to near the capacity of her excellent Engine . . .  when fully completed and the machinery worn smooth, the Boat will be enabled to make her trips . . . and return in eight hours, including short stoppages at several points.  A Band of amateur Musicians afforded a zest to the pleasures of the day.“

The writer was delighted that the Chief had created “ next door neighbors” at the other end of Seneca Lake, “that hitherto remote region.”

The Seneca Chief, however,  was not just a pleasure boat, though. 

“Immediately after the Fourth the Steam Boat will commence her regular trips to the head of the Lake daily, Sundays excepted, leaving Geneva at 7 in the morning and returning at 7 in the evening—carrying the mail in connexion [sic] with a daily line of Stages to Washington city.  She will touch at Dresden and at Bailey town 

(near Ovid) to receive and deliver passengers and take freight boats in tow.”   

The Courier mentioned in April 1831 that the Chief had arrived with passengers and ten boats in tow, which included such cargo as flour, pork, whisky, and lumber.  The Gazette predicted that “Geneva will become a great focus for travel by Steam Boats, Canal Boats and Stages.”

The Rumneys did not rest on their laurels.  Less than a year after its launch, they overhauled the Chief:

“The Engine has been raised so as to add three feet to her wheels, giving them a diameter of 15 feet.  An elegant Cabin is erected upon the deck . . . a mast has been added on which to spread a sail in a fair wind; and, taken altogether, she is much improved in speed, accommodations and appearance.” 

In January 1832, a storm sank the Seneca Chief at the wharf.  When the boat was raised, the damage was minor.  Still, the Rumneys took the opportunity to make more changes.  That spring, the Courier announced that

“The Steam-Boat Seneca Chief has now commenced running up and down Seneca Lake, four times each week . . . The boat is much improved in appearance and speed . . . and every attention will be paid to the comfort of passengers, as well as the strictest attention to neatness and order.  No ardent spirits will be kept on board. ."   

In 1833, the Rumneys sold the Seneca Chief to John R. Johnston and Richard Stevens, who in turn bought the steam navigation rights to Seneca Lake.  Johnston and Stevens rebuilt the Chief, lengthening it by 35 feet and renaming it the Geneva.  They may have installed a bigger engine, as an 1879 memoir stated “When John R. Johnston operated on the water, a new life was put into the steam marine of Seneca Lake, and things moved lively from that time to this.”   Two years after purchasing the Chief,  Johnston and Stevens built the Richard Stevens, the second steam boat on Seneca Lake.

By 1847 or 1848 (sources differ) the Seneca Chief/Geneva had come to the end of its useful life.  Someone had a brilliant idea – they could blow up the boat as part of the July 4^th celebrations.  The Gazette described the event in 1889:

“It was to be the grand coup of the celebration. Loaded with a supply of powder she was placed far out in the lake, and a wire connected with an electric battery run to her. A grand spectacle was looked for by the assembled multitude on the shore. It is estimated that 10,000 people were present lining the shore at every convenient point. The electric key was touched time and again but there was no thundering response. Failing in this a party armed with a fuse was despatched [sic] in a small boat and another attempt was made to blow her up by thus igniting the powder.  This even failed to work, but the boat took fire and the disappointment of the spectators was considerably lessened by seeing the relict of the grand old steamer shoot fiery tongues towards heaven, illuminating the whole harbor and the adjacent shores . . . The powder had become wet in some manner and its explosive qualities thus destroyed.  As it was the sight was a memorable one.”

Geneva's Changing Waterfront

John Marks, Curator of Collections and Exhibits

Geneva’s Changing Waterfront was the name of a 1989 exhibit and catalogue by researcher Kathryn Grover. The title sounds “ripped from the headlines,” as some TV shows say. Seneca Lake and its shore have always been valuable commodities to Geneva but the nature of that value is always changing.

The lake offered food and transportation for Native Americans. They had no known towns on the lake – those were situated on hilltops for defensive reasons – but in the summer people camped on the shore to catch and dry fish. This was especially true in the shallow areas near inlets and outlets where it was easier to wade out and use nets. A canoe could travel up the Seneca River and east almost to the Mohawk River; after a short carry, it could continue out to the Hudson River.

Early sketch of South Main Street from the lake, 1790s

American settlers valued the bluff that became South Main Street for its view and healthy air. Land around the foot of the lake (the Finger Lakes flow south to north, so the north is the “foot”) was swampy and people who lived near it contracted “Genesee fever,” probably a form of malaria. Land agent Charles Williamson laid out the new village on the high ground; today’s Pulteney Park was the central business district, with homes down Main Street and nearby. The bottom land was occupied by warehouses and less-affluent citizens.

The lake was a major transportation route from the 1790s until the early 20^th century. Lake schooners and steamboats carried produce and goods from around the lake to Geneva, which became an inland port when the Erie Canal was completed in 1825. (The Seneca-Cayuga Canal was in operation prior to 1825.) Steamers hauled “gangs” of barges on the lake between the Seneca-Cayuga in the north and the Chemung Canal in the south.

Factories were always portrayed with smoking stacks; no smoke meant no work.

Commerce has always located near the best transportation routes. Factories and warehouses built docks along the downtown lakefront. Hotels, taverns, billiard rooms, and bordellos on Exchange Street served the lake and canal traffic. Until the 20^th century, respectable businesses were located on upper Seneca and Castle Streets, away from the riff-raff.

In the 1950s, the lakefront was again valued as a transportation route, this time for a bypass around downtown. Almost a million tons of fill were used to expand the shoreline so Routes 5 & 20 could avoid local streets. Divided highways were laid out with a wide grassy median. The downtown lakefront had no perceived value until the 1980s when the roads were moved to the west, creating room for development.

The original arterial design, 1960s

This is a simplified history of the waterfront. A more complicated version includes a century-long debate about how to use the lakeshore closest to downtown. From 1916 to the 1950s, Lakeside Park, at the end of Castle Street, was a pleasant recreational site but it took eleven years of heated debate to be built. The Historical Society has blueprints, master plans, and recommendations for waterfront development dating back to 1935. They range from a mix of industry, retail, and recreation, to single-use options. New reports are added to our archives every few years.

This 1935 proposal for a park begins at Lake Street (far left). The eastern portion, not shown here, included ball fields and a marina, similar to what was finally built in the 1960s as Seneca Lake State Park.

I’ll refrain from giving an opinion on lakefront development; I’m one person, and this is a hot topic. I will say that the Historical Society is a great resource for anyone seeking the “long view” of the lakefront’s history. We have maps, photographs, postcards, and the aforementioned plans and studies. Geneva’s Changing Waterfront: 1779-1989 is out of print but used copies may be found in local stores and the Geneva Public Library should have a copy as well. (We are considering digitizing the book and offering on-demand copies in the future.)

The Helpful Horse

By Karen Osburn, Archivist

Of course, if you lived in 19^th century Geneva you used a horse to get around.  Horses were everywhere and if you didn’t own your own you could rent one from a livery stable like Kirkwood Livery and Boarding Stables. The 1894 Geneva City Directory lists 9 blacksmiths and horseshoers (farriers), 10 draymen (men for hire to move heavy loads with horse and wagon), 4 harness makers, 2 hay and grain wholesalers, 3 dealers in bailed hay, 2 public hitching sheds, 3 veterinary surgeons, 3 wagon and carriage dealers, and 8 wagon and carriage makers as well as Henry King, proprietor of the Kirkwood Livery.  The 1895-96 City Directory also lists 4 livery and omnibus stables and other livery and boarding stables in the general directory listings.  I am sure there were just as many horse related businesses in Geneva in the decades prior to the 1890s, but the directories from that time period don’t have separate business listings making it difficult to verify the number of businesses connected with equines.

Imagine yourself standing at the corner of Exchange Street and Castle Street about 1890.  Picture a hot summer day and horses going up and down the street pulling carriages and wagons or carrying riders all the while stirring up small clouds of dust.  Some of the dust settles on your clothes and hair.  The smell of horses and manure wafts on the air, a smell you are familiar with and seldom notice because it is a regular part of life. The harnesses clink and jingle as the teams walk down the street and periodically a neigh or nicker sounds in the air as these magnificent animals “talk” to each other or to their drivers/owners. This sounds pretty, peaceful and romantic doesn’t it?

However, now picture yourself trying to cross the street in wet weather when the surface is coated with a slippery, sticky mixture of mud and manure.  If you are a woman, imagine wearing a longer skirt and trying not to kick this noxious mix up the back of your clothes.  If you are a man, think of your fine leather boots getting covered with this sticky smelly concoction.  Not quite so romantic is it? 

Oh, and (in your imagination) what is that you hear? People yelling “get out of the street”!  A big team of farm horses has been frightened and they plunge up and down, trying to escape their driver.  They are loose!  They pound down the street as runaways, not knowing where they want to be except away from the thing that scared them.  This is no longer a peaceful scene.

The Geneva Charter and Ordinances of 1891 addressed some of the negatives that accompanied our equine partnerships of the 19^th century with at least 13 entries listed in the charter or ordinances regarding restrictions on tying, confinement, damages, grazing, breeding and the operation of hacks, carriages and/or carts.  However, the heyday of the horse was coming to a close sooner than anyone would realize. 

By 1908, only 17 years later, Chapter XV of the City Ordinances was devoted entirely to the automobile! An article in the Geneva Daily Times of May 4, 1940 mentioned that 50 years ago, 1890, Geneva’s first automobile owner, D. J. VanAuken, drove his car on a “trial spin” down South Main Street.  The newspaper mentioned the car was purchased in Rochester and shipped to Geneva via the Lehigh Valley Rail Road.  It goes on to say that automobiles were becoming quite common in New York City and that “horsemen here and elsewhere predict that the finer breeds of horses will be done away with entirely by the introduction of the automobile, and say that the market is already materially affected.”

Not only does the auto get a full chapter in the 1908 Charter and Ordinances, but horses are no longer specifically listed in the Index to the Ordinances, they are simply implied under the heading “animals” with ordinances regarding driving on sidewalks, tying them up or feeding them in the street.  Automobiles, on the other hand, are listed 9 times in the index and Dogs get 40 mentions!!!  Looks like “man’s best friend” needed a lot of regulation in 1908.

So where does our helpful friend, the horse, end up?  We all know how this story

ends, but it didn’t happen overnight.  In 1922 the Geneva Daily Times printed an article on horse sales in the August 24^th edition stating the Horse Association of America declared horse sales to be up during the first 5 months of 1922 compared with the first 5 months of 1921.  The Association claimed there were 27 million horses and mules in the United States in 1922 and many horse buyers reinstating horses into some lines of work were have problems finding the right type of horse.  The article implied horse breeders should have an upswing in their business.   

I always enjoy seeing a horse whether it is under harness, or saddle or just standing in a field soaking up the sun.  Seeing a “working” horse in many parts of the eastern United States is rare, but in upstate New York you will often see horses pulling buggies or plowing fields.  Most of the Mennonites and Amish in Yates and Seneca counties use horses for daily transportation and farm work.  It is nice to know that despite the ubiquitous automobile, horses are still used and enjoyed in the Finger Lakes.

So let’s make one more visit back to our street corner on our nice day in 1890 and as we are startled by the run-away team of farm horses we see what frightened them…could it be Mr. VanAuken’s “trial spin” in his new automobile?