Every community has its own personality. Sometimes this springs from the circumstances of its founding, or from the nature of the work done there, or from its religious and ethnic groups. Larger communities have a different feel than smaller ones, and communities blessed with the experience of many varying people are far healthier and happier than those where a great sameness prevails.
Even similarly-sized communities in the same county — Bath, Corning, Hornell — each have their own personalities. Addison, Canisteo, and Hammondsport likewise are each distinct from those bigger towns, and from each other.
Arch Merrill called Bath the Queen City of the Southern Tier, an observation that would have warmed the cockles of Charles Williamson’s Scottish heart.
Williamson was one of those men who decided early in life that if you were going to dream, you ought to dream big. Where most people saw a huge forest recently stolen from the Iroquois, Williamson saw great cities and vast estates. Where most people saw a small clearing hacked by hand from the trees along the Conhocton, Williamson saw an elegant capital. The space he cleared is now Pulteney Square in Bath, and he kept the faith even though the first person interred in the nearby Pioneer Cemetery was his own young daughter.
The Land Office he set up in 1793 didn’t finish selling off 1.3 million acres until the early 20th century, but infant Bath became the seat of a brand-new county in 1796. Until the Erie Canal elevated no-account shanty towns like Syracuse, Buffalo, and Rochester, the river chain of Susquehanna, Chemung, and Conhocton was the key travel route. Williamson foresaw Bath as the great metropolis of the region, endowing it with straight broad boulevards and green grassy squares.
Metropolitan dreams died, but the layout endures. In tiny scale it seems to echo the layouts of Paris and Washington … except that Bath had its layout well before Paris and Washington did. So the history, the lovely layout, and the county seat all contribute to Bath’s personality. So do two great institutions begun during or after the Civil War … the Davenport Asylum for Orphan Females, and the New York State Soldiers and Sailors Home. The “Davenport Home” provided a true home for a thousand or so girls over almost a century.
“Alumnae” relate that young men frequently came calling, especially when they knew they’d be invited to dinner, and everybody ate well at the Davenport Home. Even during the Depression the girls rode horseback, played tennis, went camping, visited amusement parks, had their own band, and their own Scout troop.
Many old-time orphanages prepped their charges for low-level jobs (maybe as maids or cleaners), and pushed them out the door as quickly as possible, regardless of age. But at least by 1890 or so many “Davenport Girls” were attending Haverling, and graduating with high school diplomas … far more schooling than most other Americans had.
An 1892 photo shows the girls gathered on an ornate set of steps, seated primly and properly, clad in uniform and, of course, entirely covered save for head, neck, and hands. The photo of a similar gathering 50 years later shows the girls variously clad and casually seated, little ones in sun suits, older girls in shorts and short sleeves, or even sleeveless. Women by then could vote and hold office. They could largely control their own income. They could even join the army, and even as girls they were increasingly free from rigid convention.
And when they went to school, they followed Charles Williamson’s street plan … Cameron Street to Morris, Morris to Pulteney Square, then from the Square to Liberty, and on up to the school at Washington.
– Kirk House, of the Steuben County Historical Society, writes a column appearing in The Leader and The Spectator.
This article originally appeared on The Leader: Quirky Bath, the ‘Queen City of the Southern Tier’ | History column
Reporting by Kirk House, Steuben County Historical Society, Special to The Leader / The Leader
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
