The History of Pittsford
Contributed by Beth MacDonald. From an old newspaper clipping that was among the belongings of my grandmother, Margaret Carpenter Doud. The clipping was not identified or dated.
1940
The History of Pittsford: The village of
Keene, which was so called after the town of that name in New Hampshire, where
one of the Ames brothers had once lived for a time, was platted upon
supposition that the Michigan Southern Railroad, which was then completed to
Adrian, would follow the section line one mile south of the northern boundaries
of towns seven south, and thus pass through it. So firmly was this
conviction in the minds of the early settlers that the village grew rapidly,
and soon boasted a second store, kept by Parks and Co., a tavern and a dozen or
fifteen dwellings. The post office, which had previously been established
at Lenawee, with Dudley Worden as postmaster, was transferred to this side of
the county line, rechristened as Keene and Silas Eaton was appointed as Mr.
Worden's successor. This change was made about 1837-38. When the route of
the railroad had been definitely fixed upon, and it was decided that it was to
pass two miles farther south and through the village of Lanesville (now Hudson),
the prosperity of the little village began to wane, and the tavern and several
of the dwellings were taken down and removed to Lanesville within a short
time. Before 1843, the village of Keene was known only by tradition; it
had vanished like the mist of morning before the rays of the rising sun.
In 1840, the post office was transferred to the care of Henry Ames and four
years later it was removed to the locality known as "Locust Corners"
and the name was changed to Pittsford. About the year 1840 a post office
was established, in the central part of the township at the house of the
postmaster, Elijah B. Seeley. It was called "Pittsford".
In the winter of 1843-44, it was discontinued, and another was established in
the west part of the town with James H. Thorn as postmaster. This office
was called "Sparta" and retained that name several years, until
the office in the north part of the town was abandoned, when it was changed to
Pittsford. Mr. Thorn retained his position for a period of more than seventeen
years. His successors have been Elam Dewey, William Jones, Lg. Stedman,
J.J. Turner, Ch Sayles, MF Cutler, ETX up to the present incumbent. The
first mail route was from Hudson to Sparta via Pittsford and mails were
delivered once a week. A daily mail service was established January 8,
1855. The first school in this twp was kept in what is known as the
Loomis District. A frame house had been built there on the site of the
present schoolhouse, and in 1839 the first school opened there by Miss Harriet
Bigelow, who resided with Mr. Ira Rose a little southwest of Hudson. The
second teacher was one of John Perrin's daughters.
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History
In the summer of 1839 the Indians were removed
from Squawfield to their new homes west of the Mississippi. They had
encamped at this point on the Little St. Joseph's River for years, and the
village was the home of the Chief, Baw Beese. Mr. E.E. Maxson had become
the owner of the land, and naturally wanted to get possession. The
government was slow to act in the matter, as the Indians were peaceable and
injured no one. About this time Warren Champlin, a youth probably in his
teens, who was a great favorite with the Indians, went down to Mallory's Lake
to bathe, taking with him his younger brother, then but a child. Leaving
him on the shore with a white companion and two young Indians, he entered a
canoe and pushed out into deeper water. While bathing he was startled by
a loud scream, and looking towards the shore, saw a young Indian brandishing a
knife, and in mimicry passing it around the scalp lock of the little boy.
Hastening to the shore, Warren found the little fellow nearly dead with
fright. but Baw Beese who had come out on hearing the cry, explained that
it was all done in sport, to show how an Indian goes at work to scalp an
enemy. It is said, however, that Maxson took advantage of this
circumstance to represent to the government that the Indians were troublesome,
and it resulted in an order being issued for their removal. The
detachment of troops arrived in the neighborhood in the evening, and, securing
guides, stealthily surrounded the camp at a late hour of the night, when it was
supposed all the stragglers would be in. When the Indians were awakened
by the officers, they were much alarmed and the squaws and papooses endeavored
to gain the shelter of the woods, but were turned back by the line of
glittering bayonets that opposed them. The night resounded with their
cries of grief and terror, and indeed, their feelings must have been both sad
and fearful. They knew they were to be torn from the familiar haunts
where they had so pleasantly passed their lives; they were to be removed to
some place they knew not of, to meet a fate they knew not what. To their
ignorant, untutored minds, what fate could have seemed more dreadful?
Many hearts among the witnesses of this harrowing scene felt pangs of
sympathetic pain, and many eyes yielded a brief tribute of sorrowing
tears. But the soldiers were there to perform an inexorable duty, and
were compelled to act. The squaws and papooses were loaded into wagons,
and the Indians marching with the soldiers, the sad cavalcade moved on into the
vastness of the forest, bearing the aboriginal proprietors of the soil, away on
that course to the westward that has formed their only hope of safety from the
encroaching feet and destructive hands of the whites. All were taken
except Baw Beese and his squaw who had been recently confined and was not yet
able to endure the journey. After her recovery of strength they bade
adieu to their friends among the whites, and turned their faces towards the
setting sun, and thus departed from the land of their birth, the last
representatives of a once numerous and powerful tribe.