The kids and I drove up to north Cicero last week. This part of town rings the southwestern edge of Oneida Lake. What the landscape lacks in interest (it’s very flat), the lake makes up for it with its brilliant blue water and foamy white rip tides. I grew up in this area, and frequented the lake very often with my friends. Oneida Lake and I, we go way back. It was good to see my old friend again.

As a kid, I’d heard about Frenchman’s Island and the mystery surrounding it; however I didn’t know the details of the story until now. It is such an enchanting tale that I can’t ignore repeating it here!

Frenchman’s Island is this.

It’s a small, 56 acre island in the western section of Oneida Lake. Oneida Lake is New York’s largest inland lake, sitting in the center of the state.

There’s a legend that goes back to the late 1700s. A Frenchman by the name of Desvatines supposedly fled his native country with his very young child bride. Reasons are not quite clear (this is why it’s a legend). Either they were aristocrats fleeing France’s Reign of Terror, or they left France to escape the wrath of the girl’s father. They made their way into the New York wilderness with only their stash of lovely French books and treasured silverware, settling on this tiny island in Oneida Lake. Together they cleared a small lot and built a cabin. Madame Desvatines nurtured a small and lovely garden of hyacinths and lady slippers. They planted apple trees, a large vegetable garden, and created a tiny Garden of Eden for themselves and their little family here.

They entertained visitors, including a Judge Vanderkemp from Holland, new to New York. He described the French family’s gracious hospitality and enchanting settlement as a “paradise which happiness has chosen for her residence.” Of the Frenchman, he said, “Ragged as he appeared, without a coat or hat, but his manners were those of a gentleman; his address that of one who has seen the highest circles of civilized life.” Vanderkamp feasted on a meal of a fresh catfish, warm bread, salads, and vegetables from the garden, served on a delicate cloth with chinaware and silver.

A year later, the island was sold out from underneath the Frenchman and his family. The Desvatines moved to a small town north of the lake, now known as Constantia. A European nobleman and friend from France, Duke Deroachefoucauld, had been searching for the family. He recorded that the Desvatines were a happy couple, raising their three children and “always laughing and complaining of nothing.” However the family had fallen on hard times; later they had to sell their collection of French books to Judge Vanderkemp. Before long, many more visitors from France were streaming in, but their financial situation did not recover. They disappeared from Constantia and were thought gone. But not long after their disappearance, reports were of a similar couple with the name “DeWardenou,” living on the eastern edge of Oneida Lake, near Wood Creek. They participated in the great salmon festival with the Indians there, driving the enormous fish down the creek to a trap for the Indians’ annual fish festival.

Legend holds that one day a stranger came to a little town along the creek, speaking very little English. He discovered the couple in their poor little home. His heart was filled with such joy upon seeing them that it burst and he fell dead right then. It was Madame Desvatines’ father. He had come from France to tell her that all was forgiven. On his body was a discovered a will, turning over his vast estate in France to her.

The family disappeared from records here. Some stories end with the tale that the couple traveled back to France, that they had tired of the wilderness which was starting to give way to more settlers looking for their little paradise here. Others end the story that the family moved once again, under the hospitality of a kind nobleman from the Hudson River valley area.

Alexis du Tocqueville, on his great journey across the new America, mentions looking for the couple’s old home on Frenchman’s island. He writes of his quest in his book Democracy in America. Of the journey, he wrote:

We plunge through an immense forest where the path is hardly traceable. Delicious freshness that reigns there. Sight wonderful and impossible to describe. Astonishing vegetation. Enormous trees of all species. A disorder of grasses, plants, bushes. America in all her glory, waters running on every side, huge pines uprooted by the wind, twisted among plants of every sort.

We embarked by ourselves in a little boat. With difficulty we reached the [Frenchman's] island. Emotion we felt on setting foot there. Different look of the country we had just been through. Land gone wild again. Traces of man. We force our way through a belt of immense trees. We arrive at a clearing where trees, already big, had clearly once been cut. Some old, rotting trunks, leaning among brambles, plants and branches. In the middle of the island we find an old apple tree. Near there a vine, gone wild again, twining right up to the top of the neighboring trees like a liana. A house was there. There is no trace left of it.

We wrote our names on a plane tree. We set out again. Profound silence of the island only broken by the birds that live there free. We traversed the whole island without finding any trace of the two beings who had made it their universe. This expedition is what has most vividly interested and moved me, not only since I have been in America, but since I have been traveling.

Frenchman’s island was closed to the public for a long time, but is back open again. Of course, you need a boat to get there! There are no bathrooms, and no camping or fires are allowed. It is a completely wild area, with a few markers of civilization such as some old stonework, some trails, and a concrete lighthouse built in 1917. There are some lovely photos of the island here.

Frenchman’s Island of Oneida Lake

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We considered going to the Farmer’s Museum to see the Cardiff Giant, and I wanted to go to the Fenimore Art Museum, but we didn’t. The kids weren’t really up to interacting with crowds, and my youngest rolled his eyes when I suggested going to another museum. However, the Farmer’s Museum is open April 1st with reduced rates, so here’s hoping we go then.

Cooperstown was packed. We drove up and down the streets looking for a place to park. we finally found an empty spot in the marina’s parking lot. We walked to the Lakefront Park and got a look at Otsego Lake.

Here’s an interesting scuplture by John Quincy Adams Ward entitled “Indian Hunter.”

The view of the lake behind the Otesaga Hotel is beautiful. But the very cold wind blew across the lake.

It was uncomfortably cold, so we didn’t stay long. We made our way up toward the main drag. The weather was brisk and the Christmas lights were shining, and it all had a very festive air. Snowflakes drizzled down, leaving behind a flash of glitter but no depth of substance. I am not used to having such a snowless November.

Crowds of people went in and out of the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum. Local legend says that baseball was invented in the town, by Abner Doubleday, in 1836.

The Hall of Fame fuels most of Cooperstown’s economy. There were multitudes of baseball-related shops everywhere: custom-made bats, baseball card trading, baseball chocolates, posters, hats, clothing, baseball breadboxes and baseball potholders… the creativity of the entrepreneur knew no bounds when it came to capitalizing on baseball.

We strolled up and down the streets, and stopped in a store once in while to warm up before venturing on. Main Street and the surrounding streets have retained their 18th century flavor. The houses and buildings are the same as they were 200 years ago. Little proprietor’s signs hung from local businesses as we walked. Cooperstown has gone to great lengths to retain it’s “old America” feel– no Times Square digital signage here!

As we walked and browsed, we noticed there is a big market for remanufactured items from the 30′s to the 60′s (old road and advertising signs, old bottles, soda caps, penny candy, lanterns, enamelware, etc). It is a little disconcerting to see things you remember from your childhood on shelves as “nostalgic” items.

Outside, I happily snapped photographs while the children munched on Whistlepops from the candy store. The beautiful architecture of the buildings was very appealing. Such craftsmanship!

This lovely brownstone building caught my eye. Stone always looks so cold under the chilly glare of gloomy winter skies, but this brownstone pillar seemed to radiate good cheer.

Stairs leading to lower levels beneath storefronts mystified me. They were enigmatic. Where did they lead? How old were these doors?

Cooperstown is an ancient town, as far as New York towns go. It was settled in 1786 by Judge William Cooper, father of famed author James Fenimore Cooper. Before 1812 the town was called the village of Otsego. Cooperstown is Natty Bumppo country. My children adore the Natty Bumppo and Chingachgook stories. We have seen many versions of The Last of the Mohicans movies. (The modern one with Daniel-Day Lewis is the worst. They even changed Natty’s embarrassing name to something more palatable to Hollywood tongues: Mr. “Poe.” Listen, if you’re going to take creative license so far as to remove all semblance of the original story, name the movie something else, ok?)

I snapped more photos of some interesting and beautiful houses. Some houses are very ornate. Many have the very old look of 18th century England: low to the ground, close to the street, and clustered together with narrow alleys and stone walls, like this one:

Others are clearly Victorian and unashamed of their opulence.

The Cooperstown Library was open, so we ventured in. What a beautiful, old building! It was surprisingly warm for such a white elephant of a building. Detail work in and out was exquisite.

There’s an art gallery upstairs, so we poked around in there for a bit.

Our stroll through the town was over. Although we didn’t play the formal museum tourist group this time, it was still good to get out and enjoy a change of scenery. We drove down Railroad Street on our way out of town and came across this lonely old locomotive on the tracks. Other very old railroad cars and equipment rusted nearby. Some of the sleeping cars still had curtains and cots.

Next stop: Fly Creek Cider Mill! Stay tuned!

Project Gutenberg online has The Story of Cooperstown if you are interested in learning more about this enigmatic and legendary town.

A Trip To Cooperstown, NY

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According to the Maritime Museum website, H. Lee White was:

…born in Oswego and remembered it fondly as he moved through a career rich in accomplishment. Graduated from both Hamilton College and Cornell University, he attained the rank of commander in the U.S. Navy and became a successful attorney in New York City. In 1953-54 he served as Assistant Secretary of the Air Force in the Eisenhower administration, and later became head of two worldwide shipping companies.

This museum was established to preserve and promote the Oswego Harbor’s importance in our history, with an emphasis on ships, of course. The website says that the museum’s centerpiece is the USAT LT-5, that cute little tug that sat wantonly roped to the pier.

When we drew close, we saw that visitors were not allowed on. The ship was built for service during World War II; you can read more about the ship here.

Because we love Lake Ontario so much and found the air so refreshing, we puttered around the pier for a bit, taking in the Great Lake air. Glorious. Just look at that vast sky!

…and… hey! look at my youngest, trying to peep over the edge of the pier! GRRRR…

The museum looked small and drab on the outside, but inside it is two-storeys- packed full of interesting naval artifacts and history. I was struck by the enormous mural painted across one entire wall. It was painted by George Gray and depicts scenes from early American history here. The portrait of Pontiac is stunning. I was not allowed to use flash to snap a picture, but there are some ok-quality pictures here.

The artifacts were fascinating. We saw huge rings of chains, giant-sized spools of navy-grade rope, miniature model boats of all sorts, navigational instruments and widgets, navy stripes and badges galore, gorgeous Oswego-ish artwork, and all the little gadgets that accompany life on the lake for the last 300 years. There is even a big signal lamp–with shutters– the kind I saw in that old 1940′s Titanic movie, when the crew had desperately tried to flash Morse code to a nearby vessel.

Kids could try on uniforms, test out replica muskets, and wear the ubiquitous tricorn hat of yesteryear. Of course my kids loved it all.

My youngest, known for his penchant for finding little places, nearly flipped when he discovered a secret passageway! This facade of a jelly cabinet was a secret hiding place for travelers on the Underground Railroad.

The museum was put together well. Thumbs up from this crew!

After our excursion there, we decided to wander the city a little. Oswego has some very colorful murals alongside long buildings. The murals depict scenes of its history, or honor their brave.

Historically, there have been some very deadly house fires in the area, and I believe the idea of family life insurance sprang out of such tragedies. The murals depict those who served the community and some who lost their lives doing so.

We neared the grounds of Fort Ontario and walked down the railroad tracks. A small footpath led us down to the shore of the Lake.

Some rocks were discolored by amateur, uh, “artists” who couldn’t hold a candle to the murals on the streets.

The waves were beautiful. So wild and unpredictable but very elegant.

If you squint (or click to enlarge the photo, and squint), you can see the nuclear power plant stack in the background in the first photo, the lighthouse in the second photo, and the buildings of Fort Ontario in the third photo.

Back up to the grassy area, a more somber scene befell us. It was the graveyard of soldiers who had died while serving at Fort Ontario, dating back to the French and Indian War. A monument was erected for the “unknown soldier” there.

From here, we attempted to gain admission to Fort Ontario (something the kids had wanted to do for a while) but it was closed. Aw! I could only promise the kids that we would return as soon as possible. We actually did get to visit the lake once again, and the fort. Our visit to Fort Ontario is here, and our visit to the lake again during some blustery winter weather.

H. Lee White Marine Museum, Oswego, NY

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Very few places are open during the winter, and the lighthouse museum is no exception. But we love the lake, and having seen it in the summer, we wanted to see it in the winter, too. We got the added benefit of experiencing lake effect snow firsthand, too (without having to wait for the snow to blow across the state to Central NY, where we live).

Sodus Point is in Wayne County, and the place has a lot of history. The town was formed in 1789. It is said that the name “Sodus” comes from an Indian word “gleam in the water.” I didn’t see too much gleam (due to the thick clouds and snowfall), but I did see an overwhelming multitude of apple orchards. I have never seen so many apple farms and orchards as I have in this location in New York State.

Sodus Point has a lovely, natural harbor, and became a central port in New York State for trading along the Lake. As it’s importance grew during the early 1800s, and as America and Britain were clashing over sea trade agreement, it is no surprise that Sodus Point became a target. The village of Sodus was burned and destroyed by the British in 1813, during the War of 1812. After the war, it was rebuilt again. Sodus Point is now a popular vacation resort.

The lighthouse on the premises was built in 1871. It replaced one that had been built in 1824. The lighthouse no longer functions as a lighthouse; it closed in 1901, and is now a museum.

The grounds are very nice, but sparse. There are benches. A worn path lead us to an ivy-covered arbor. Beyond the arbor is a stone with a plaque, commemorating the old lighthouse.

From here, we wandered to the lake. Great thick sheets ice covered the sandy beach. Waves crashed into the ice, producing sprays of icicles that sometimes went airborne. Our feet crunched on top of the ice. The edges of the ice looked like the baleen of whales. Underneath these “teeth,” the water rolled, causing the ice to emit crackling and groaning sounds. We dared not move too close to the edge of the ice.

The kids collected seashells (even in the snow!) and did their usual exploring. The snow was beginning to fall heavily. We decided to trudge our way back up the hill and drive around the lake edge.

Sodus is a little town. I think the population is about 1,000 or so. Many of the houses looked weary. Then again, it was winter and the clouds were thick and gray and overcast everything with their gloom. The falling snow made the scene cheerier.

This cute tree caught my eye. It’s a Christmas tree, fully decorated, hanging on a crane! Funny!

And this little red tugboat looked so perky, despite being beached for the winter.

This section of the lake (the marina) was frozen over. I wish I had been able to take a photo of what we saw next– people atop these little sailboat-like boats scouring the ice. The sails were white but the boat was bright yellow. There must have been skis or something like it. The wind was blowing and the skiffs were shooting across the ice very quickly. It looked like such fun! I was driving when we saw them and couldn’t take their picture. Sorry. It was so neat to see them!

We got a few pictures of the boats. They were covered with bright blue tarp, but looked sad underneath. I guess I’d be sad, too, if I had to sit out winter on the ice, waiting for spring to be free again.

We did see large areas of open water. Signs spelled it out for anyone who didn’t notice: “DANGER. Open water!” We saw people all over the ice. Some folks seemed to be out for a stroll on the lake; others were fishing.

Brrr. It’s looking blustery on the lake by now.

I don’t know if Lake Ontario freezes over during the winter. Anyone have any ideas? My kids say it doesn’t, because the lake is so active. This winter has so far been rather mild (with only a few days below zero so far), so this year’s weather may have changed the outlook. Does Lake Ontario freeze over?

The weather was turning more threatening, and the skies were growing dark, so our travel here had to end. We will return in the summer and explore this end of the lake a little more next time. Life by such a large and influential lake is so unique. An entire subculture grows around it, I’m sure. I’d love to visit during a fishing event or when cargo barges come in. I’ll bet there’d be a lot of action then!

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Sodus Lighthouse, Sodus Point, NY

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