Samuel Wilkeson, He Built Buffalo By Building It's Harbor: Part 3

Buffalo From the Light House

In all Buffalo's history no event was so significant to the future welfare of the city as the building of the first harbor. This task, carried on despite tremendous physical and economic obstacles, was an act of civic zeal unmatched in the later annals of the city. 

   THE exact date in which the harbor work was begun is not on record, but it was some time before May 20th in 1820.  The rains were heavy that spring when Sam Wilkeson got his cook shack and sleeping quarters built. Day after day, clouds hung in leaden-gray banks over the lake and then moved inland before the wind. The rain came in driving blasts against the village. The earth was sodden. Men sank almost to their knees in mud when they walked in the streets.

   INSIDE the homes of the frontier village, fireplaces were still lit against the dampness. Trees stood dark and forlorn in the rain, black with water, writhing in the wind. Against the lake shore, waves crashed in roaring spray as the wind churned the surface into, whitecaps which gleamed, even in darkness, like bared teeth.

   IT was not the kind of weather in which men liked to leave the snugness of their homes. The day after the cook shack and sleeping quarters were built, Wilkeson sent out a call for laborers to assemble at daybreak. Only a few responded. He called the work off. For several more days the project was stalled. Then, with characteristic determination. Wilkeson broke the bottleneck. He made a standing offer of $2 a month more than the regular wage, if the men agreed to work regardless of weather. The result was gratifying and the problem was solved. Thereafter the men worked six days a week, from dawn to sunset, with a half hour break for breakfast and an hour for lunch. There was little absenteeism and only one case of intoxication on the job. Almost without exception, the men who began the project worked through to the end. There were no fights among the workers.
    Wilkeson writes: “Two plans had been proposed for the work; One by driving parallel lines of piles and filling up the intermediate space with brush and stone, and the other by a pier of hewn timber, filled with stone. The latter plan was adopted. The timber intended for piles was used in the construction of cribs, three of which were put down the first day.” Since few tools were on hand, the cribs could be put down only when the lake was perfectly smooth. As far as possible, they were fitted on shore. The opposite timbers were made secure with six-foot ties bored and numbered and then floated to their places. There they were assembled. The trunnels, two feet long and made of oak or hickory, were driven home. It took an hour to put the crib together. On the same day it was assembled, it was sunk and secured with stone.

   ON the first day of work the lake was calm. Three cribs were built and sunk. The weather remained good the second day and the work proceeded. But late on the second night, the wind rose suddenly. There was no breakwater to protect the shore. The waves chopped their way landward, lashing against the cribs until daybreak. When Wilkeson arrived at the scene in the morning, it was as if ruin stared him in the face. The waves had eaten away at the sand and gravel on which the cribs had been sunk. Almost all the cribs were out of line. In some cases the sides were sunk, in others the ends were deeper. They jutted this way and that, “the whole presenting a most discouraging appearance.”
    But as he waded into the water to examine the worst damage, He writes: "Fortunately a little brush had been accidentally thrown to the windward side of one of the piers, which became covered with sand, and preserved this pier from the fate of the others." There he found the key to his problem. "Profiting by this discovery every crib subsequently put down was placed on a thick bed of brush, extending several feet to the windward of it."

   JUDGE Wilkeson's faithfulness to the underlying principle of the undertaking, economy; is indicated in the following paragraph of the record:  "Neither clerk, nor other assistant, not even a carpenter to layout the work, was employed for the first two months, to aid the superintendent, who, besides directing all the labor, making contracts, receiving materials, etc., labored in the water with the men, as much exposed as themselves, and conformed to the rules prescribed to them of commencing work at daylight and continuing until dark, allowing half an hour for breakfast and an hour for dinner. Besides the labors of the day, he was often detained until late at night, waiting the arrival of boats, to measure their loads of stone, and to see them delivered in the pier, as without this vigilance some of the boatmen would unload their stone into the lake, which was easier than to deposit it in the pier."

Heck, "I could do this blindfolded." 
A Blind horse and a cannon begin work on 
Buffalo's Harbor

   THE improvised pile driver was pressed into use. It took 100 strokes of the old Army mortar to drive each pile to the desired depth. As the work progressed out into the lake a platform was built for the blind horse which furnished the motive power for the pile driver. The horse plodded round and round on the wooden planks; a few feet above the surface of the lake. Two months after the work got under way, Wilkeson hired a carpenter at $1 a day to build the timbering of the piers above the lake surface. By autumn the pier extended almost 800 feet into the lake and Wilkeson's crews were sinking cribs at a depth of 7 1/2 feet. As the pier-construction proceeded, and the deeper water was reached, "the cost of the work alarmingly increased." It was decided "to suspend operations for that year." Possibly they hoped to gather additional funds during the winter months. But if the future of the harbor was uncertain, in matters of money and of use, the builders had had the satisfaction of seeing that the cribs could make a harbor.

   ON SEPT. 7, 1820, the still incomplete project underwent it first test. The timber work was finished but the pier was only partly filled with stone. That afternoon two small vessels came under the lee of the pier and made fast. The captains went ashore to conduct some business. As evening approached, clouds piled in threatening banks in the sky. The wind rose suddenly. A storm was definitely in the making. Fearful that, if the storm came, the two vessels might carry away the part of the pier to which they were fastened. Wilkeson sought out the two captains and asked them to move the ships. But he was too late. While they were talking the gale broke. The wind drove spray like buckshot. The water seethed, waves, broke with a roar against the pier. To move the ships now was impossible, unless they were simply to be cast loose and allowed to run on shore. Despite the fact their vessels could be damaged seriously in the process, the two captains agreed to do-this if it appeared the pier would collapse.

   THE ships rose and fell in the pounding waves, crashing against the pier as the water bore down an them, pulling with tremendous weight at their lines as they rolled away. In the blur of wind and water, Wilkeson waited for the storm to pass. Then he saw for the first time how well the challenge of the elements had been met. Neither the pier nor the ships, were damaged. The next day the work of filling the pier with stone was resumed. The pier, which at this time extended 50 rods into the lake, was in a few days filled with stone, and the operations upon it suspended for the season."

    NOW another problem had to be met. The pier was only part of the harbor plan. The most difficult part was yet to come. This involved cutting a new straight channel for Buffalo Creek and it also was the most dangerous element in the entire operation. No one knew whether the plan for the new channel would succeed. If it did not, there was no additional money on hand to meet the emergency and the entire harbor project was doomed. 

   AT that time, Buffalo Creek entered the lake about 1,000 feet north of its present mouth. For some distance it ran almost parallel to the lake shore behind a bank of sand. The new channel was to be cut across this sand-spit, thus making it possible for ships to sail directly from the lake into the creek without navigating the sharp bends.

Map showing Harbor Pier Built by Wilkeson near bottom of 

Map. Original route of Buffalo Creek at the Foot of 

Vollenhoven Ave.

   THE plan was to scrape through the sand, dam the stream, form the beginning of a new channel, and hope that spring floods would scour it to sufficient depth. Tools were gathered and a call went out for volunteers. The villagers responded quickly. Work was begun in November. The volunteers walked out over the sandpit, took their places along the route of the desired channel, and started to dig and scrape. But just a few feet below the surface heavy stone and gravel were encountered. The stone was of such size it was doubtful whether the spring freshets would carry it out to the deep water of the lake. If it was not carried far enough, it would serve only to block the channel at another point.It was late in the year. The wind was sharp and there were hints of early snow. The new problem, could not be solved in time. The scraping of the channel was suspended before water level was reached. It was something that would have to be resumed in the spring.
    But while all work had stopped, Wilkeson's worries had not. All during the remainder of the fall and through the winter, Buffalonians watched the pier with anxiety. Its fate was out of their hands and they could only wait. Snow, sleet and hail, the pounding of frigid waters, the razor-edged scraping and tremendous weight of ice, the winter winds which howled across the lake with unremitting fury--if the work should be destroyed by gales, or by ice, "the fund remaining would be insufficient to repair the damage. These were the challenges the pier now had to meet. By spring Buffalo would know the answer.

End of Part Three: 
Part Four
Part Two

Part One
Part Five

Samuel Wilkeson, Harbor Builder, Part Two

The Walk-In-The-Water.....built in Black Rock, spurred Buffalo ambitions. The small group of citizens who overcame tremendous physical and economic obstacles to construct Buffalo's first harbor laid the foundations for this city's future greatness....Without them, Buffalo would have remained just another frontier village. 

  THE PLAN to Make the Village of Buffalo a great harbor city had its origins not only in the development of the Erie Canal but in a bitter commercial rivalry with the Village of Black Rock. The rivalry had existed almost from the time the two villages were founded. When Joseph Ellicott was commissioned by the Holland Land Company to lay out a village near Buffalo Creek, he saw at once that Black Rock had more natural advantages than Buffalo. Fearful that his work would be undone, Ellicott wrote in 1802 to Paul Busti, general agent of the company, urging that the lands at Buffalo be opened for sale immediately. Black Rock clearly "was equally or more advantageous for a town than Buffalo," he wrote, and Buffalo's opportunity might be lost if the land sales were delayed.

Main Street Buffalo 1825

  The Holland Land Co. purchase did not extend to Black Rock and Ellicott could not carry his work that far. There is no doubt that, if he could, he would have laid out the Village of New Amsterdam, as he intended to call the community, near Tonawanda Creek instead of Buffalo Creek. Ellicott realized immediately Black-Rock had a natural harbor while the mouth of Buffalo Harbor was blocked by a sand bar which prevented all vessels but canoes from entering. This sand bar was for many years a tombstone on Buffalo's hopes. In dry weather it could be walked across. Even when rain was frequent, the water rarely rose higher than a man's waist.

   IN BLACK ROCK there were forces which made the rivalry more intense. Peter B. Porter and his brother, Augustus, were making strenuous efforts to monopolize Black Rock's harbor facilities. Long before Buffalo could dream of such a venture, the Porter brothers were busy with shipbuilding and shipping.  But Busti heeded Ellicott's plea and Buffalo began to grow. Still, there was no portent of the village's future in those early days.  The eyes of early Buffalonians were turned more to the earth beneath their feet than to the water at their doorstep. It was natural this should be. The land around Buffalo was fair. From Lake Erie to the Genesee, pine grew in the ridges and hemlock in the valleys. Upon the plain, mile after mile, stood an unbroken stand of maple, oak and elm.

Village of Black Rock

  But along Buffalo and Tonawanda Creeks, the land was swampy. In summer, thick swarms of mosquitos and flies rose from the water's edge. Just before the swamp, near the banks of the stream where the beginnings of Buffalo were to be made, were thick groves of basswoods. The prehistoric lake beach, of which the Terrace is now a part, was a stretch of treeless bluff overlooking the lake. Below the lake beach, along the easterly border of the Niagara River, was a succession of sand dunes. This was not a country to which harbor builders came. In spring it was the scent of bursting buds that carried on the wind, not the smells of water and ships. In October, the smell of wood smoke hung in the air, not the whirling of trade winds. In winter, part of the lake was frozen. There was no way to leave. 

    Black Rock, proud of its reputation as a shipping center, busy and prosperous as a result of its role in the salt trade, which was the main commodity of commerce on the lakes at that time, shrugged off Buffalo's protestations of equality. It watched, almost with condescension, the reconstruction of the village the British had burned.

   While Buffalo struggled for sheer survival, Black Rock made plans for its future. But the idea of the Erie Canal grew. And with it the conviction of Buffalo's citizens that the western terminus of the canal must be located in Buffalo. This was to be the Phoenix springing from the ashes of burned Buffalo. Black Rock was a shrewd and resourceful opponent. Its men were working as vigorously as Buffalo's to gain the great prize of the canal. Letters were dispatched, wherever there were men to be influenced or policies to be decided, lobbyists for both sides were hard at work. In 1817 construction on the first portion of the canal got under way near Rome. It was expected that 10 years would elapse before the project was completed. But Black Rock didn't wait. Just one year after the first canal excavation was begun, Black Rock took a mighty step in its campaign to become the western terminus of the canal.

    A group of New York businessmen were persuaded to finance the building at Black Rock of the first steamer to be put afloat on the Great Lakes. It was a major effort and on the day the ship was launched in August of 1818, there was a civic celebration in Black Rock. The steamship was called the Walk-In-The-Water, not only because of its sailing characteristics but in honor of a neighboring Wyandotte chief. It was built along the general lines of Robert Fulton's Clermont and used sails as well as steam. But instead of closing out Buffalo's claim as the logical terminus of the canal, the launching of the Walk-In-The-Water was fuel for the flames of Buffalo's ambition to overcome its old rival.

   Despite its steam boilers and sails; the Walk-In-The-Water could not breast the rapid current of the Niagara. The vessel was ready for use about the middle of August. Again and again it poured all its power into an attempt to steam upriver into the lake. Each time it fell back, its engines too weak to force the passage. After several days of this unavailing effort, the owners of the vessel swallowed their chagrin and asked Capt. Sheldon Thompson of Black Rock for the loan of his celebrated "Horn Breeze," the ox teams which dragged sailing vessels against the current until they reached the relatively calmer waters of the lake.

   On Aug. 23, the final effort was made. The "Horn Breeze" was attached by cable to the ship and a pounding head of steam was built up in the vessel's boilers. The stokers flung wood into the fireplaces, the drivers cracked their bullwhips, the oxen strained against the line, and to the cheers of spectators and shouting of drivers and crew, the vessel finally moved upstream. Thus, with the aid of one of the most ancient motive powers, the age of the newest motive power was inaugurated on the lakes.

     BUT THE EXPERIENCE of the Walk-In-The-Water proved that if vessels were to use this end of the lake with regularity, a harbor would have to be built in Buffalo. Only thus would the time-consuming and expensive method of hauling the ships against the Niagara current be overcome. Samuel Wilkeson, a man who saw this city, at perhaps, its most degrading time in our history, had, along with three other resolute Buffalonians, recognized that Buffalo's fate, lie in its getting a harbor. A good harbor, would most certainly bring the termination of the Erie Canal to Buffalo.

End of Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

Part One

Part Five

Samuel Wilkeson, He Built Buffalo, by Building It's Harbor

In it’s pioneer days Buffalo was a Village without natural advantages or economic prospects. Then a harbor was built and it became the key-stone upon which the Village grew to greatness, becoming a City in 1832, and one of the largest ports in the world 75 years later.  The building of that harbor by Samuel Wilkeson and a small group of citizens, is a story of heroic vision and sacrifice unmatched in the later annals of the city. This is the first in a several part series telling that story.

BEGINNING OF BUFFALO's HARBOR 

   The war which had swept over the Niagara frontier, had impoverished the inhabitants of the little place that has since grown into the City of the Lakes. Their property had been destroyed—they were embarrassed by debts contracted in rebuilding their houses which had been burned by the enemy; they were without capital to prosecute to advantage mechanical or mercantile employments; without a harbor, or any means of participating in the lake trade, and were suffering, with the country at large, all the evils of a de-ranged currency. In the midst of these accumulated embarrassments, the construction of the Erie Canal was begun, and promised help. However distant might be the time of its completion, Buffalo was to be its terminating point, and when the canal was completed, our village would become a city. But no craft larger than a canoe could enter Buffalo Creek. All forwarding business was done at Black Rock, and the three or four small vessels that were owned in Buffalo, received and discharged their cargoes at that place. Sailing vessels at the time, unless of very light draft, had to lie a half a mile or more off port, or drop down below the Black Rock Rapids to find anchorage.

The Earliest Picture of Buffalo Known - View of Fort Erie
From Buffalo Creek - 1811, Drawn by E. Walsh 49th
British Regiment

   A harbor was then indispensably necessary at the terminus of the canal and unless one could be constructed at Buffalo before the western section of the canal was located, it might terminate at Black Rock. This was the more to be apprehended, as an opinion prevailed, that harbors could not be made on the lakes, at the mouths of the rivers. But a harbor we were resolved to have.

   The great project upon which the Village of Buffalo was staking its future had lain dormant for years. The delay was costly. With each passing day the initial upsurge of enthusiasm for the project had receded a little more. Times were hard. Buffalo was impoverished. The grim hand of economic misfortune laid itself with cold finality upon the zeal for civic improvement. One by one, seven of the nine men who had signed a petition for a $12,000 loan from the State to build the harbor, withdrew their support. All that had been done in Buffalo in the seven years since the British had put the village to the torch had accomplished little more than sheer survival. The rebuilding had been carried on steadily, but it was a grueling process and required much sacrifice. The British had been thorough. When they departed, there remained standing in the black and smoldering ruins only two stone buildings, a blacksmith shop, the jail and a frame dwelling owned by Mrs. St. John.

Black Rock in 1825

   Two years later as many buildings as had been destroyed were rebuilt. Now, in 1820, there even were a few new structures. Sam Wilkeson had built a fine house.  Charles Townsend and George Coit had built a store in which they were running a drug business and, at the same time, were venturing into shipping affairs. Others who had arrived since the first villagers straggled back to survey the embers of their homes and properties also were adding to the reconstruction. But, for the most part, the village struggled merely to stay on its feet. 
   It was little wonder, then, despite the first great wave of enthusiasm, that seven of the nine men had withdrawn as sponsors for the $12,000 loan. The money was intended to finance the building of a harbor in Buffalo. If the harbor could he built, there was a strong possibility De Witt Clinton and the Erie Canal commissioners could be persuaded to make Buffalo the Western terminus of the canal. Otherwise, The Village of Black Rock, three miles distant, aggressive, more prosperous, with more natural advantages than Buffalo, was destined to secure the great prize. If it did, Buffalo would never be more than a frontier village, a tiny settlement which the mainstream of history had bypassed! 

Judge Samuel Wilkeson

    These were the stakes and they were tremendous. But there was doubt that the project ever could be executed. Tough-minded men in the State Legislature had laid down stern conditions for the loan. It was to run for 12 years and was to be secured by twice its amount in personal pledges of money or property. If the harbor was not built, the security was forfeit. If the work was carried to successful completion, the State could accept or reject it. Should the harbor be rejected, no reimbursement was to be made. The builders could recompense themselves by charging tolls for the use of the port. It was a take-it-or-leave-it proposition. Buffalo took it. 
   With nine men behind the loan it seemed a simple matter to raise the $24,000 security. But with seven withdrawn, the whole project was a lost dream. Still, a few did not give up. Charles Townsend remained stead-fast and so did Oliver Forward. But their resources were too slim to make up the $24,000 mortgage. A third party was needed. Someone with the same bold vision, the same spirit or daring, the same tenacity of purpose. There was only one man in the village to whom they could turn. Sam Wilkeson. Wilkeson had not been among the original nine sponsors for the loan but he understood the need for harbor development. He agreed to help back the loan. With each of the three men pledging $8,000 in personal property as security, the loan was secured. 

Joseph Ellicott - Surveyor for the
Holland Land Company

   That had been a year ago and still nothing had been done. Just having the money did not solve the problem. And with each passing day their risk grew greater. Black Rock was lobbying vigorously for the canal and seemed almost a certain winner. In Buffalo itself there was doubt and opposition. So eminent a Villager as Joseph Ellicott was against them. He brusquely refused to lend the only pile driver in the area for the work. The three harbor builders were not only without a plan and men to execute it, but without even the most necessary tools. Ellicott's refusal to co-operate hurt. They decided to go over his head. Together with George Coit, Towsend’s partner, the three men wrote to Paul Busti, general agent of the Holland Land Co., asking his support for the work.

    The letter came directly to the point. Since the loan had been granted the year before, a great deal of political manipulation had taken place and the entire problem of where the canal was to be located was still open to question. The four men were frank. They admitted under present circumstances it seemed more reasonable to suppose the canal would terminate at Tonawanda Creek, not Buffalo Creek.  If it did, the harbor planned at Buffalo would be useless to the state and to the men who built it "as the business of the place would be removed to the vicinity of Grand island." But, the four men continued, not withstanding all this they intended to proceed with their plan for the building of a pier if the Holland Land Co. would back them. And would Mr. Busti, please, tell Joe Ellicott to stop guarding the pile driver as if it were made of gold and allow them to borrow it so they could get on with the work.

   It was a month later, in May, 1820, that Busti replied from Philadelphia. He was polite but uncooperative. He could not place the Holland Land Co. behind their scheme, he wrote, because experience had shown that public works carried out by private individuals or companies did not have the same assurance of being completed as those undertaken by the Federal or State Government. He even turned them down on the pile driver, claiming he had no authority over it, "Mr. Ellicott is the master to do with the pile driver as he sees fit," Busti said. But, he added, "I believe him to be too reasonable as to deny you the use of it on suitable terms."

   So that was that, and they were on their own, Joe Ellicott glowered when they approached him again on the pile driver, he was not so reasonable a man as Busti assumed. He would not, lend it and he would not rent it. They decided to build their own pile driver. The rigging was not too hard to construct, but they had no hammer. Finally, a good substitute found.  Wilkeson located an old Army mortar which had been used in the war but which had lost one of its trunnions. They broke off the other trunnion and bored two holes in the end of the mortar, a staple by which to hoist it. It worked excellently and had a driving weight of 2,000 pound. The machinery to lift the hammer was simple and cheap. A blind horse was attached to a line and raised the hammer simply by walking in a circle. Now they had both the money and the pile driver. There was only one way to find out what could be accomplished with both. That was to get on with the job.

A construction superintendent who boasted of harbor building experience was brought to Buffalo at $50 per month. His start was an expensive one. Flint stone for piers was purchased at $5 per cord. Four hundred hemlock piles, 20 to 26 feet long, were ordered at a cost of 31 cents each. Within a few week's, $1,000 of the precious $12,000 was spent and still no actual construction was under way.

    At this rate, it was easy to see the loan would never carry the project through. Again something had to he done. Wilkeson, Townsend and Forward did it. They fired the superintendent and decided to carry on the work themselves. But Townsend was ill, almost an invalid. Forward knew nothing of harbor work. Neither did Wilkeson. Yet it was Wilkeson to whom the others turned. It was an all or nothing gamble and they knew it. Their personal fortunes and the ultimate destiny of the village they believed in was at stake. 

Judge Samuel Wilkeson

   But Wilkeson had a business which consumed all his time. He had a family. He could not afford to ignore either. Wilkeson had never seen a harbor, and was engaged in business that required his un-remitted attention. But rather than the effort should be abandoned, he finally consented to undertake the superintendence.  Thus it was that the morning after his final talk with Townsend and Forward, Sam Wilkeson appeared at the site of the proposed harbor at daybreak to mark out a spot for the erection of a shanty on the beach between the creek and the lake so that the men who would work on the harbor project would not have to leave the site. He hired a few laborers, gave the necessary orders for lumber, cooking utensils and provisions. The boarding house and sleeping room were completed that same day. 

Without suitable tools, without boats, teams or scows, and neither the plan of the work, nor it's precise location settled, THE HARBOR WORK WAS COMMENCED. 

End of Part One 

PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART  FIVE

Main Street Buffalo Store

1825 - A Memorable Year for Buffalo

  The year 1825 was one of the most memorable of Buffalo's early years. In it occurred notable events, and many evidences that the future of Buffalo was bright. "Since the close of the war, no such eventful twelve-month period had ever passed over the county of Erie." A State census was taken in June, 1825, and showed the population of Erie county then to be 24,316. The village of Buffalo represented 2,412 of that total. How important one of the great events of that year was to Buffalo, is seen in the fact that during the next five years the village quadrupled itself in population. 

  First, was the trial of the three Thayers, accused of the murder of John Love on December 15, 1824, near the hamlet of North Boston, Erie county. John Love, a Scotchman, bachelor, and of some means but of roving disposition, was wont to spend part of the winter in the home of the three Thayer brothers-Nelson, Israel, Jr., and Isaac, young men ranging from twenty-three to nineteen years. They were in debt to Love, who had returned from a summer of work on the lake with considerable cash. They murdered him. 

View of Buffalo From the Light House

   In the latter part of February, two of the brothers were arrested, the third son and also the father then passed under arrest, and all were subsequently tried in Buffalo. The sons eventually confessed; and in due time, on June 7, 1825, were hanged on Niagara Square, Buffalo, "in the presence of the largest throng of people ever, assembled in the city at that time." The father was released on the morning of the execution. It was one of the noted cases of that decade, discussed far and wide throughout the United States, and the execution drew to Buffalo from 20,000 to 30,000 spectators, a greater throng than there were residents in Erie county!

   The opening of the Erie canal and the visit of Governor Clinton to Buffalo occurred on October 25, 1825. It was a great occasion for Buffalo.  Early on the morning of the 26th, the Village of Buffalo was thronged with people from a great range of the surrounding country, who had assembled to witness the departure of the first boat. To guard against the disappointment that might have arisen from accident retarding the work beyond the specified time, arrangements were made for the firing of a grand salute, to be commenced at Buffalo at a given hour and continued to New-York by guns stationed at suitable points along the whole distance. The cannon used were those with which Commodore Perry won the victory of Lake Erie, and by way of a compliment to Lafayette, the chief gunner was a lieutenant who had belonged to the army of Napoleon.
   At about 9 o'clock a procession was formed in front of the Courthouse, in which the various societies of mechanics appeared, the whole preceded by the Buffalo Band and Capt. Rathburn's company of riflemen. The procession moved through the street to the head of the canal, where the boat Seneca Chief, elegantly fitted out, was in waiting. Here the Governor and Lieut. Governor of the State, the New York delegation, and the various committees from different villages, including that of Buffalo, were received on board. Several addresses were made in the open air, and then, everything being in readiness, the signal was given, and the discharge of a thirty-two pounder from the brow of the Terrace announced that the boats were under way. 

Eagle Tavern Tavern and Other Buildings, Main Street - 1825

   There were four boats in all. The Seneca Chief of Buffalo led off in fine style, drawn by four grey horses, fancifully caparisoned, and was followed by the Superior, next to which came the Commodore Perry, a freight boat, and the rear was brought up by the Buffalo of Erie. The whole moved from the dock under a discharge of small arms from the rifle company, with music by the band and loud and reiterated cheers from the throng on shore. The salute of artillery was continued along from gun to gun across the state, in rapid succession, and in eighty minutes came back an answer from Sandy Hook - the quickest telegraphing that had been known up to that time. 
   A public dinner succeeded, and the festivities of the day were closed by a splendid ball at the Eagle Tavern, "where beauty, vieing conspicuously with elegance and wit, contributed to the enlivening enjoyment of the scene." 

The Marquis de La Fayette

   General Lafayette visited Buffalo on June 4, 1825, coming on the steamboat "Superior." He was met by a guard of honor consisting of Captain Vosburgh's cavalry, and Captain Rathbun's Frontier Guard. At Buffalo as well as elsewhere in the nation, he received "an outburst of affection praise and veneration. The village band, two detachments of militia and a committee on arrangements met him at dockside to escort him to the Eagle Tavern. The spacious three story brick structure, located on the west side of Main Street near Court, was renowned as the finest hotel in the western part of the state. An elegant platform had been constructed in front of the hotel and it was here that village officials formally welcomed the newly-arrived traveler. 

Seneca Chief  Red Jacket was there
to greet Lafayette.

  

Present among the dignitaries were Village President Oliver Forward and his arch-rival from Black Rock, General Peter B. Porter. Political animosities had been set aside for the occasion. A former congressman and a hero of the War of 1812, Porter participated in Buffalo's ceremonies because he was a leading figure in business and society on the Niagara Frontier and had considerable influence at Albany and Washington.

 Forward opened the formalities by recalling Lafayette's voluntary sacrifices in support of liberty and asking him to accept "the humble tribute of our respect, in conjunction with what has been and will continue to be proffered, not only by every citizen of the American nation, but by every friend of liberty and of mankind." 
    

The venerable Frenchman acknowledged the welcome by requesting village officials to convey "the tribute of my grateful respect to the citizens of Buffalo." At the behest of the Buffalo arrangements committee, General Porter then presented him to the people and a public reception followed. Among those who shook Lafayette's hand was the great Seneca Indian chief Red Jacket whom he had last met forty years before. A civic dinner was held the same evening as was a gala ball where the beautiful and charming Letitia Grayson Porter, member of the influential Breckenridge clan of Kentucky, joined her husband at the head of the reception line to introduce the Marquis to the guests. The next morning at six o'clock, Lafayette's party departed for Black Rock.

 It was in I825, it is stated, that the original Dutch names of streets in "New Amsterdam," or Buffalo, were changed. Main street as far as Church was originally called Willink Avenue, while above Church it was Van Staphorst Avenue; Niagara Street was Schimmelpenninck Avenue; Erie Street was Vollenhoven Avenue; Court street was Cazenove Avenue; Church street was Stadnitski Avenue; and Genesee street was Busti Avenue. The Terrace above Erie Street was called Busti Terrace, and below it Cazenove Terrace. Then many of the Indian street-names were changed, Oneida Street becoming Ellicott; Onondaga becoming Washington; Cayuga becoming Pearl; Tuscarora becoming Franklin; Mississuaga becoming Morgan. Delaware; Huron, Mohawk, Eagle, Swan, and Seneca Streets were so named originally, but Exchange was once called Crow street. It seems, however, that the buildings in streets were not designated by number for some years after street names were changed. 

Major Mordecai M. Noah

  On September 2nd 1825, Major Mordecai M. Noah was in Buffalo to dedicate the cornerstone that was to mark a place on Grand Island as a Refuge for the Jews of the world, to be called "Ararat'. Being that not enough boats could be secured to transport the great throngs of spectators to Grand Island for the dedication, the ceremony was held in St. Paul's Episcopol Church, with the Rev. Addison Searle, presiding. Festivities opened Sept. 2nd, "at dawn of day a salute was fired in front of the court house, and from the Terrace facing the lake. At eleven o'clock a parade moved down Main Street from the Court House to St. Paul's with city officials, bands and members of the Masonic order in line." Center of all eyes was Noah himself, a gentleman of forty, proudly erect of carriage, florid of face, keen of eye, sandy-haired who strode just ahead of the rear guard of Royal Arch Masons and Knights Templar. Over his black costume, majestically austere, were thrown rich judicial robes of crimson silk, trimmed with the purity of ermine. From his neck depended a medal of gold glistening from high embossments." The major conducted the ceremony with all the solemnity benefitting the occasion. 

Cornerstone for the City of ARARAT

   "On arriving at the church door, the troops opened to the right and left and the procession entered the aisles, the band playing the Grand March from Judas Maccabeus... On the communion-table lay the cornerstone. "On the cornerstone lay the silver cups with wine, corn and oil. "The cornerstone, was consecrated during the ceremony in both Hebrew and Episcopal rights.  Mr. Noah rose and pronounced a discourse, or rather delivered a speech, announcing the re-organization of the Jewish government, and going through a detailed Proclamation of many points of intense interest... He declared the Jewish nation reestablished under the protection of the laws of the United States. 
  Meanwhile hundreds of people lined Niagara's river bank, from Tonawanda down to Buffalo, hoping to catch a glimpse of the colorful ceremonial, which they thought was to be held on Grand Island. Many of them came up in carriages in time to hear the Inaugural speech. After the ceremony, the procession returned to the Lodge, and the Masonic brethren and the Military repaired to the Eagle Tavern and partook of refreshments. The church was filled with ladies, and the whole ceremony was impressive and unique. A grand salute of 24 guns was fired by the Artillery, and the band played a number of patriotic airs. A day or two later, everyone, including Noah, had left Buffalo and nothing further happened regarding the establishment of  the Jewish City of Ararat. (See "Noah's Grand Island")


   Buffalo in 1825 was a place of between 400 and 500 buildings and among the inhabitants were:  Four clergymen, seventeen attorneys, nine physicians, also three printers, two bookbinders, four goldsmiths, three tin and coppersmiths, seven blacksmiths, two cabinet makers, three wheelwrights and coach builders, two chair makers, one cooper, three hatters, two tanners, five boot and shoe makers, two painters, four tailors, one tobacco manufacturer. These were all master-tradesmen, some of them employers of many men. For instance, the five boot and shoe makers employed thirty-five men, and the seven blacksmiths seventeen others.

   In addition, there were fifty one carpenters and joiners, nineteen masons and stone cutters, three butchers and one brush maker. Industrially, Buffalo was even then, it would seem, giving evidence of its destiny. There were a far greater number of retail establishments than one would imagine would be, or could be, maintained in a village of 2,400. For example, there were twenty-six dry-goods stores and thirty-six groceries, numbers which seem out of all proportion to the size of the place. There was evidently much outside trade; and possibly some of the shopkeepers were looking forward with great optimism to the future, the waterway from the East being now open. 

  The village could boast of the possession of four newspapers, three printing houses, eleven places of public entertainment, a brewery, a reading room, a public library, a Masonic hall, a theatre, three church edifices, "a young ladies' school, a young gentleman's academy, and four common schools, and several other public buildings, including a brick court house, a very handsome designed building," which however "remains unfinished." The writer adds: "The buildings in the village are principally of wood, and not very compact, with the exception of Willink avenue; this street is filled up and is the most business part of the town.
  So 1825 was a busy year for Buffalo, recovering remarkably from it's ashes just 12 years earlier, already becoming a significant town in young, western America, with the best yet to come.