This essay was originally published in the 1945 OCHS Yearbook. Please note that this essay was published over 82 years ago. While still useful for general education, language may be outdated and at times offensive. The Oswego County Historical Society does not stand by the language used in this essay. All photos were added in 2026 when this article was uploaded to the web. To view the original document, please visit NYHeritage.org
Paper Given Before Regional Meeting of the New York State Historical Association at Oswego October 20, 1945 by Dr. W. Freeman Galpin, of Syracuse University, Author of “A History of Central New York.
The Smiths of Peterboro had extensive realty holdings in Oswego after Gerrit Smith acquired his first holding of local realty at the public auction of state lands held in 1827 just about the time the Oswego Canal was being completed to connect Oswego with the Erie Canal, and Oswego was about to become a village, down until a number of years after Ger rit Smith’s death which did not come until after 1870. Gerrit Smith eventually controlled much of the East Side waterfront along the Oswego river where he built wharves which he used to lease and receive in return rentals which, in connection with his other Oswego properties, brought him in the 1850s and 1860s as much as $65,000 a year annual income.
Other properties which Smith held here included the Oswego Hotel erected in 1828, later known as the “Munger House” and as the Fitzhugh House which stood on the site today occupied by the East Side branch of the Oswego County National Bank in Oswego, the East Cove property, and after 1850 the Grampus Bay property, the Oswego Canal Company (water power), a flour mill, shares in many Oswego owned steamboats and in a cotton mill. Acting in his own behalf or as agent for Peter Smith, his father, for half a century Gerrit Smith maintained a business office in Oswego with John B. Church as manager.
Gerrit Smith Here Much Gerrit
Smith himself spent a large portion of his time in Oswego when he was known in many circles, but he never established a permanent home here, unlike his brother, Peter Skenan Veemandoah Smith, who established a law practice in Oswego and resided here for a decade or more in the 1830s during which he served the village as a member of its board of trustees and Scriba as a supervisor. He was also very active politically in the same period as a leader of opposition against the Whigs. He was a general in the militia, and was fond of wearing his uniform on the streets of Oswego even when there was no apparent reason for it. He later removed to Florida.
Cornelia Smith Cochrane
The sister of Gerrit and Peter S. Smith, Cornelia, who married John Cochrane, an Oswego lawyer, also resided in Oswego, making her home on the East side. For a time during the excitement due to the patriot war, Cochrane was an editor of the “Oswego Patriot”, an organ of the patriot sympathizers in the border troubles, of 1838. Later, after leaving Oswego he served as a member of Congress from New York City. In the late 1860s he was attorney general of New York State. Gerrit Smith was also related by marriage to Henry Fitzhugh, an early mayor of Oswego and for many years one of its most prominent businessmen.
Gerrit Smith in 1853 gave $25,000 for the establishment of the public library in Oswego which bears his name, the building having been erected in 1855. Later Smith gave other substantial sums to this library for particular purposes.
Gerrit Goes To Congress
In 1853-1854 Gerrit Smith represented in Congress the congressional district of which Oswego County was a part, Madison, Smith’s home county, being the other county in the district. Oswego county gave him a substantial majority in the election largely on the strength of his advocacy of reciprocity with Canada in which Oswego business folk were much interested in bringing about.
A considerable part of the early business that Gerrit Smith carried on at Oswego related to the fur trade in which his father, Peter Smith of Peterboro, had been engaged before he asked his son to take over the management of his affairs. The elder Smith’s purchases in the west of furs at trading posts maintained by him along the Upper Lakes passed through Oswego, as did the elder Smith’s west bound goods sent from his store at Utica to the scene of the western trading operations there to be used in barter with the Indians by the Smith representatives.
At the joint meeting of the New York State Historical Association with Oswego County Historical Society held at Oswego State Teachers’ College in October, Dr. W. Freeman Galpin read the following paper on “The Smiths of Petersboro”:
October 2, 1780—and Tappantown was agog with excitement. Major John Andre of His Majesty’s North American Army was to be executed as a spy. And this sleepy little Westchester County hamlet had been selected as the place for the execution. Small wonder it was that its men folk milled around, chattering as though the fate of the Revolution hung on every word. Harings, Van Houtens, Blauvelts, Smiths— Dutchmen all so far as ancestry was concerned—and others made up this noisy throng. The execution, so tradition records, took place on the farm land of Gerrit P. and Wintje Lent Smith. And one may be certain that the 12 year old son, Peter, had eyes as big as saucers that eventful day. Possibly he actually witnessed the death of the unfortunate Andre. In any event he never forgot the vivid incident and never tired of telling of that fateful day to his children and grandchildren in years to come.
Peter Utica Store Keeper
Peter Smith was too young for military service at the time and, so far as is known, remained on his father’s farm until about 1784. Then he went down the Hudson to New York City where for a time he served as an apprentice and clerk in the merchant house of one Mr. Haring. Ambition, however, was made of sterner stuff and in 1785 Peter opened a small book shop of his own, with theatrical supplies as a side line. Four years he passed in this fashion, amassing a small sum of money and much valuable experience. Early in 1789 he bade good bye to New York City, paused for a brief visit with his aged parents at Tappantown, and then plunged northward to Albany and west along the Mohawk until he arrived at Old Fort Schuyler—later to be known as Utica. Here he opened a general store, selling groceries, hardware, and other supplies to the pioneer settlers of Oneida County. Nor did he overlook his Indian patrons who eagerly bought such things as inlaid scalping knives and kegs of potent fire water. Not that Peter would so much as taste a drop of whiskey himself—no, that would constitute an unpardonable sin; but for others, especially the lowly Indian, there could not be anything wrong, in so far as the safety of his own soul was concerned. Yes, Peter was a man of deep religious conviction. Indeed, an examination of his Fort Schuyler Account Books reveal that he frequently assigned religious names to otherwise unknown Indian patrons. Here one encounters a “Big Christian” and there a “Little Christian.” And I have often wondered if Peter saw the humor in the fact that his entries showed “Little Christian” as most circumspect about paying his debts, while “Big Christian” was always in the arrears.
Peter Enters Fur Trade
As a store keeper, Peter did right well for that day and age. His bank account, so to speak, slowly grew and as it grew he branched out and became vitally interested in the fur trade. During the course of these ventures he met John Jacob Astor—the beginning of a lifelong friendship. Astor recognized Smith’s ability to deal profitably with the Indians and at an early date, possibly around 1791, entered into a partnership with Peter. Astor provided the latter with the groceries and other supplies that crowded the shelves and floors of the store, while Smith gathered the furs and shipped them on to New York where Astor disposed of them for a nice profit. Several years later the two began to speculate (jointly) in land and from that time until 1829 the two shrewd partners conducted a most profitable enterprise.
In the meantime, as wealth began to crown the efforts of Peter, his eyes cast longing glances at Elizabeth Livingston, daughter of James Livingston. Surely, Livingston, a veteran of the Revolution and a lawyer of no mean standing, must have questioned at first the ardent approaches of this young man. Smith, however, had money, and money not only talked but gave promise of security for his daughter who looked with favor upon Smith. Thus it came about that in February, 1792, Peter and Elizabeth were married; from that time on, Smith’s standing among the aristocrats and blue bloods of the state was not questioned, and that in spite of the evident eccentricities displayed by Smith. Of this marriage, six children were born though only four lived to maturity; Cornelia who married the future John Cochrane of Civil War fame (and lived for a period of years in Oswego), Peter Skenandoah, Gerrit and Adolphus Lent. The mother of these children died in 1818 and for several years Peter remained a widower. However, as time passed he began to think seriously of a second marriage. Accordingly, he scanned the horizon for one worthy of the honor he intended to dispose. Honor, indeed, and much wealth and reputation. Truly the first Judge of Madison County, a man of undoubted wealth, and one whose religious standards were ostensibly correct, would be a handsome prize for any maiden.
Peter’s Second Marriage
Peter, however, forgot one essential—he was no longer a young man. Probably this explains why several fathers found him unbecoming and turned a deaf ear to his proposals. The day came, however, when at Philadelphia, Smith met Sarah Pogson. Now Sarah had been born at Hampton Court, England, a number of years before. She was the daughter of a former West India merchant and her brother was a priest in the Church of England. Precisely why Sarah accepted Peter’s offer of marriage is not known. Nor should one attempt to draw back the veil of mystery that attended this union, though a study of the sources might indicate that there was an absence of both mental and physical compatibility. In a word, Peter was too old to marry a woman who in the prime of life deserved a more virile companion. Be that as it may, Sarah soon found her life at Peterboro a living hell. Her husband laid down the law. She was not to use his carriage without his permission; she was not to go to the general store without his approval; she must attend family prayers and see to it that every whim of a crotchety and cantankerous old man was satisfied. Soon the marriage was on the rocks and Peter proposed divorce. Sarah, loyal to her beloved Church of England, flatly refused, whereupon Peter sent her off with the promise that he would provide for her maintenance. In his will, he left her a life annuity of seven hundred dollars provided she relinquished all claims to the estate. This was asking too much and it was only after Gerrit, the son, raised the ante to twelve hundred that she surrendered her claims to the estate. Sarah lived until 1870.
Peter’s Business Morals
The most interesting aspect of this affair, however, was that Peter felt and believed that he had acted as a Christian gentleman throughout. But that was true of everything he did. According to his standards, there was nothing wrong in purchasing from the Oneida Indians a tract of land of some 60,000 acres, even though the State Law expressly forbade all purchases from the Indians. And when confronted by the State, Peter calmly maintained that it was not a purchase, but a ninety nine year lease. The State bluntly refused to honor the same, whereupon Peter dug deep into his bag of tricks and pulled out one legal technicality after another until at length the State recognized his title. In such a manner, he gained 60,000 acres at the rate of three and a half dollars an acre. Peter’s questionable practices did not stop at this. A favorite device was to buy for a song land sold by the State for non payment of taxes. Then, when time came for him to pay taxes he would default, allow the taxes to accumulate and then “bid them in at the tax sales.” Here was a clever way of acquiring title at a low cost—and many thousands of acres of land were purchased by him in this manner.
“Skin Flint” Smith, the Oneida Indians called him and that in spite of his repeated solicitations about their spiritual well being. Now Peter was an active member of the New York Tract Society and wherever he went he always took with him a supply of tracts. As he approached a village, he would send ahead a man to place posters on fences and the walls of taverns announcing that the Second Coming of Christ was nigh, prepare to meet your maker, and other such platitudes. Having thus set the stage, Smith would then dash into the village, blowing a horn as though he were Gabriel himself and then proceed to scatter his tracts among the astonished people.
Peter Sken Smith
By this time, you may well have guessed that Peter was slightly off balance. One may not call it insanity, but surely it was only one step removed. And this unfortunate streak was transmitted to his off spring. Peter the Second (known in Oswego as Peter Sken Smith) lacked his father’s business ability and preferred to travel through life as a gentleman. He loved to parade about the streets of Oswego where he lived for a time in the 1830s practicing his profession as a lawyer, in his military uniform, for he was a general in the State Militia, though he knew nothing about the army. He delighted in extensive travel and for a time lived in what was the Territory of Florida. He sought to save America from the foreigners by supporting anti alien societies. In Oswego he took a most active part in politics. He served the village as a trustee and the town of Scriba two years as supervisor. He drowned his earthly troubles by copious drinking. The latter soon caught up with him and in time drove him to an early grave. Shortly before his death he became a believer in spiritism. His letters to Gerrit fairly echo with references to communions with his dead parents, and believe it or not the medium for these strange meetings was no other than Joan of Arc.
Then, there was Adolphus Lent Smith—a harmless country swain who wondered and wandered as he walked through life. Everybody at Peterboro knew Adolph and had it not been for the fact that he was Gerrit’s brother he would most certainly have been subjected to much ribbing and torment. As he lay in his death bed, he expressed the wish that he might be buried in a bear robe in the garden where he might rise and scare the boys who pilfered his previous apples.
Gerrit’s Mental Peculiarities
Now there are some who insist that Gerrit was none too normal. Those of you who have read Dr. Harlow’s recent study of this great abolitionist and humanitarian will recall the care with which he treats this subject. Heritage, Dr. Harlow states, was heavily against him. Nevertheless he lived his seventy seven years with only one mental breakdown—that over his role in the John Brown affair. On the other hand he was always worried about his health. He went through life, so to speak, with a clinical thermometer in his mouth. Whether this worry and his zeal in the cause of reform “were evidences of neuroses, only a psychiatrist could tell.”
Gerrit’s life is well known to you of Central New York. It would be presumptuous, therefore, to relate his many activities. His land investments, his devotion to the anti slavery crusade, his espousal of temperance, women’s rights, peace, and a dozen or more ether reforms are commonplace to all. Gerrit was a lad of nine, when his father moved from Utica to Peterboro, and during the remainder of his boyhood he walked the straight and narrow path prescribed by the austere parent. Later he went to Hamilton and acquired a cultural background that was to serve him in good stead when he fought for the Lord in days to come. Also at Hamilton he gained the affections of Wealtha Ann Backus, daughter of the college President. The marriage took place in January 1819, and for several months Gerrit walked around with his head in the clouds. Fate, however, was unkind as Wealtha died that summer of “dropsy of the brain”— whatever that was. For a brief time, Gerrit remained aloof of friends and family, brooding over his loss and composing verses to his dead wife.
Here is a sample: “Sweet Image of a sweeter far Original! a lovely star
To light the doubtful steps of memory
As ‘mid the waste of time that’s been
She treads her haunts of ling’ring green
And calls her fruits for Fancy’s reveries.”
Even for one who cares little for poetry and who cannot compose a single line of verse, this stanza makes me sick.
Gerrit’s Gifts
Shortly thereafter, Smith was rudely snatched from these vagaries by the unexpected action of his father. Peter was going to retire, and so upon the shoulders of the young Gerrit fell the load of managing an estate that taxed his attention throughout life. Gerrrit viewed his ever mounting fortune as a trust placed in his hands by Providence. Those broad acres of choice farm land in New York, Northern Pennsylvania, Ohio and Michigan, those village lots in Peterboro, Oneida, Detroit and Oswego, the harbor and docks at Oswego, the Canastota Plank Road, the investments in railroads, and a thousand other enterprises were not his own. It is true that he lived at the Peterboro Homestead like a country squire, it is true that he never knew what it meant to be without luxury, but in spite of all the comforts that surrounded him and his family, Gerrit never forgot his responsibility to God. Thus his hand was forever digging deep into his pocket. Slaves were bought and freed, others speeded to safety by the underground railroad. Young and promising young men found their financial problems at college solved by his generosity. Struggling churches were put on their feet. Hamilton and Oberlin colleges were the recipients of handsome gifts, Oswego was given a library, and so on in almost endless procession.
Gerrit Liked To Entertain
To his home came many people such as Charles Sumner, Wendell Phillips, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, William Ladd, Henry C. Wright, Theodore Weld and John Brown. Gerrit delighted in entertainment and his black house servants were most attentive to all guests. One of the most interesting of these visitors was that eccentric preacher and non-register, Henry C. Wright. Wright wanted Smith to leave the safe and honorable company of the American Peace Society and throw his lot in with Garrison’s Non Resistant Society. And let me add parenthetically that John Humphrey Noyes of Oneida was somewhat responsible for Garrison’s espousal of nonresistance. The “way of the Lord,” Wright told Gerrit, is the nonresistant way. And so the conversation ran between these two men. Princes, principalities, rulers, governments and men were earnest topics and Smith floated higher and higher into the clouds. And while completely enraptured by the arguments of Wright, he took time off to write the latter a check for one hundred dollars.
Gerrit continued to walk about in a trance long after Wright left. And that in spite of the good advice offered by others like Lewis Tappan of New York City. Writing to Smith, Tappan said “When I reflect that perhaps you may be come a member of the ‘non resistant’ sect, my heart sinks within me, not that I am not a lover of peace, but because I look upon the doctrines as part and parcel of a system of innovations that will so far as they succeed overthrow all that is valuable. May the Lord guide you, dear Brother, I have no confidence in the piety of Mr. Garrison.”
Smith was visibly agitated by this appeal and wrote so to Wright and Garrison. Immediately they rushed to the attack—they did not want to lose so important a follower. Edmund Quincy penned Smith a lengthy letter which ran in part as follows:
“I regard the position in which you stand … as one of imminent moral peril. I tremble for your soul…. I regard the present struggle with ineffable interest as I see your soul yearning to love the one and yet not quite willing to give up all hold upon the other. The conflict which is now waging in the kingdom within is a more sublime spectacle than the battle fields of earth or of Milton’s heaven ever witnessed. God and angels and good men are spectators of the strife. May God give you the victory, the greatest of victories, the victory over yourself.”
Well, that touched Gerrit to the quick and like a good Christian of that day closeted himself with God and asked for advice. The advice was forthcoming in a series of letters from Tappan and other opponents of Garrison. Thus, at length, he wrote to Boston telling them he could not join in nonresistance. “With all the credit I have,” he wrote, “for being an independent Christian, I believe I am very much swayed by the authority of Great names—very much afraid to stand out against the mass of the wise and good.” And great was the rejoicing among the anti Garrisonians. Among the Garrisonians, however, there was deep sorrow and they told Smith that he had sacrificed his soul to political ambition and that he had “fallen like Lucifer from Heaven.”
Smith Gets Rid Of A Visitor
By this time Smith’s name had become commonplace throughout the nation. His generous gifts, his association with the Colonization Society, the Anti Slavery Society, his prominence in the temperance movement, and the like, were known to all that read the daily papers. And so one day a carriage drove up to the Homestead and a lady alighted with a well packed suitcase. She asked for Smith and on being greeted by the latter, she told him that she had heard so much of him that she had come to see what he was like for herself. Gerrit was flattered and invited her to spend the night. She did, and the next night, and then the next night, and another besides. By this time, Smith was wondering what it was all about. Was he being taken in? To ask her to leave, he could not and would not. But at morning family prayer he solved his problem. As he finished praying for the well being of the family and its guest, he added an additional petition -“And may the Good Lord watch over and protect our departing guest.” She took the hint and left that morning.
Gerrit Smith Miller
Gerrit’s daughter, Elizabeth, may be remembered by some of you. More of you, however, surely recall her genial son, Gerrit Smith Miller. It was my good fortune to have known Mr. Miller. I first met him in the spring of 1927 when I sought permission to use his grandfather’s papers and manuscripts for a study I was then undertaking. He greeted me with open arms, made my research a complete success and then reacted most favorably to my suggestion that he give these papers to Syracuse University. As the years passed, I found myself a frequent visitor at his home. I well recall that one of these visits coincided with that of his departed wife’s birthday. How pleased he was with the many remembrances his friends had sent him! And with great pride he showed me the floral pieces that just then were still in an old fashioned bath tub. So many flowers had come that there were not enough vases, and so some were kept at night in the tub. I admired one large bouquet, and with just the sign of a tear in his eyes, he said “they came from me.”
With that he quickly led me up to the top floor to show me, among other things, the room in which as a boy he saw his grandfather and John Brown talk over the Harper’s Ferry Raid. He also pointed out the barrel organ given to Peter Smith by William Astor, brother of John Jacob Astor. My interest in this organ led him to wind it up and as it began to play some early nineteenth century patriotic air, he picked up the tune and sang the same with vim and gusto. Time had dealt kindly to this fine old man, whose contributions to the Holstein cattle industry has won for him the applause of the nation; but time was catching up. And on my next visit I found him at death’s door. He would see me, however, and for a few minutes we chatted about this and that. But before I left, he called my wife, who was with me, and asked her to lean over and kiss him. I never expected to see him again. Fortune spared him for a time and when next I was at Peterboro, we looked out together upon the burned ruins of the Old Homestead. In those ruins he saw his life, that of his mother’s, grandfather, and great grandfather, and he proceeded to tell me again his story of the Smiths of Peterboro. And as he finished, I could not but feel that, prominent as Peter and Gerrit had been, the real Smith-one whom everybody loved and admired-stood by my side. He kept alive the tradition of the Smith family, alive at a distinct financial loss to himself, and he combined in his personality all the good and great of his ancestors. But he added a warmth and geniality that they lacked. You who have seen him fishing for trout in the little stream that ran through the estate, you who have heard him chat about his son’s birds, and you who have had the pleasure of being a guest, know full well what I mean and how impossible it is to do justice by words to that grand old man-Gerrit Smith Miller.
