USA > New York > Orange County > Monroe > Chronicles of Monroe in the olden time : town and village, Orange County, New York > Part 16
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One other landmark is Bald Hill, very dear to us because at its foot we first hung the crane. Here we toiled and studied, and here the sunshine lingers in our memory longest and our children fell asleep. It is the Acropolis of the village. Here the Monroevian will make his last stand, if the Spaniard or any future foe should overrun the land. From a little pond at its base the bones of a mastodon were recently dug by the late Martin Konnight. The mammoth was once the monarch of the Ramapo, and probably these old hills and forests echoed with his roar. But he passed away like his successor, the Indian, and some day some strange race may be moralizing over the ruins of our grandeur.
CHAPTER XXXV.
RECENT OCCURRENCES.
SEVERAL disastrous fires have occurred from time to time, which have greatly affected both the ap- pearance, business and very political status of the village of Monroe. While the burning of the shop of John Jenkins led to the erection of the first grout building, and the burning of the Boyce shops on the night of December 31, 1875, removed unsightly build- ings and gave the Presbyterian manse a new barn, the fire that occurred on the night of November 2, 1873, led to still more important results. It broke out in the flour and feed store of Carpenter & Webb, spreading to adjoining buildings, which were re- placed by better. On this occasion word was sent to the fire department of Goshen, to which a ready re- sponse was made and relief sent.
The difficulty in procuring water from wells for such an emergency opened the eyes of the citizens as to the need of a better water-supply. Public meet- ings were held, at which several propositions were made and discussed, one of which was to bring the water of Round Pond into the village. But the chief difficulty was that such a measure could not be car- ried out without incorporating. This excited strong opposition on the part of larger owners of real estate, and was soon abandoned.
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On the night of March 17, 1895, another fire started not far from the former, and burned its way north and east to Lake and Main streets, consuming the stores of Messrs. Jacqmein, Reed, Bouton, and Welling, together with the large brick double store of the late C. B. Knight. This was built in 1849, and had just been refitted with plate-glass windows and other improvements. Thus this whole corner was swept away except the frame store of Mr. Eugene McGarrah.
But great as was the loss of property, it resulted in the public good. For not merely were handsome buildings erected in their place, but a public nuisance was gotten rid of, namely, the corner sometimes called Cape Horn. At the junction of Main and Lake streets was a sloping sidewalk where several accidents occurred. Here the wife of a citizen broke her thigh. One of the clergy was passing when it was slippery, and some wag exclaimed: "The wicked stand in slippery places." He quickly re- sponded, " Yes, you may ; but I cannot." Another of the cloth was passing when an urchin came out of the brick store with a jug of molasses. The boy's feet slipped, and the jug was broken. Between the molasses and the ice the dominie caught a fall that added long-remembered sweetness to his cup.
Then the public road encroached on the prop- erty of the railroad, and when the corner was rebuilt the company required the owners to draw the side- walk many feet back, giving now a handsome frontage to the new stores.
The proposition to incorporate the village now be- gan in earnest, having its origin in the necessity to provide better means to fight the destructive element fire. Accordingly, after some discussion a census of
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the population was taken, and, still further, a survey of territory in the vicinage, made by Engineer Fred- erick J. Knight. A population of 781 was found residing on the area contemplated. This was in May, 1894.
The general boundary chosen is a line drawn from the farm of Gilbert Smith to the farm of Franklin Mapes, thence to Seamanville, including the old burying-ground, the Forshee and Wm. V. Mapes farms, and around the John Knight farm to the point of beginning. The territory is one mile and 263 thousandths of a mile square. At a public meeting held July 31, 1894, a vote was taken, and 111 were found in favor and 45 opposed to the measure. Upon this decision the necessary steps were taken towards incorporation.
The village election was held August 21, 1894. Henry Mapes was chosen President; J. Lester Greg- ory, Treasurer ; Frank Griffen, Collector; Gilbert Carpenter, Henry Morehouse and George R. Conklin, Trustees. August 28, 1894, the trustees organized a Board of Water Commissioners, with Gilbert Carpen- ter, President; G. R. Conklin, Secretary ; Henry Mapes, Treasurer ; Alexander Potter, of New York, Engineer-in-chief ; Frederick J. Knight, of Monroe, Assistant.
Under the direction of this board, the water of Mombasha Lake was brought to supply this village.
The water-works were built, and the water was turned into the main October 10, 1895. The fall is 245 feet at the railroad station. One foot in Mom- basha gives 108,000,000 gallons. Consumption first year, 17,000,000 gallons.
The following lines were composed by the Honor- 31a
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able A. B. Hulse, suggested by the completion of the system of water-works bringing the water of Mom- basha Lake to Monroe, and published originally in the "Independent Republican " :
All hail, all hail, this glorious day ! Mombasha's here, she's come to stay ; Beneath, above, around Monroe Her pure and crystal waters flow.
Her misty sprays and dashing streams Are sparkling in the bright sunbeams, While silently, unseen, below Her mighty currents throb and flow.
As Moses with his wondrous rod Smote Horeb's rock before his God, So did our Village Fathers smite With rods of steel and dynamite The rocks that bound Mombasha's shores, And brought her waters to our doors.
We'll drink none but thy waters pure, Then longer will our years endure; In founts drawn from thy waters, too, We'll bathe, and thus our youth renew.
Our lawns no longer will be seen Dry, crisped, but dressed in living green. Like gems of emerald they'll appear, And beauty fill our heart with cheer.
The fire-fiend, most dreaded foe, Who, when least looked for, strikes his blow, Is ever hanging o'er our head - A constant fear, a constant dread.
At noon, midday, at night's dark hour, Will here be broken in his power. He'll have to beat a quick retreat, And lay his sceptre at her feet.
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How many, many blessings more Mombasha still may have in store, I cannot tell; I only know She'll shower them all upon Monroe.
Now let us all our glasses fill With Basha's water with right good-will ;
In union drink with one accord The good health of our Village Board.
We know the path you had to tread, No roses lined the way it led ;
But toil, anxiety and care In measure full you had to bear.
Now, here's to you and your good health ; May you be blessed with more than wealth. Here's to the triumphs you have won. God bless you all ! Well done, well done ! - Номо.
Mombasha Lake is three miles from Monroe village and two hundred and forty-nine feet above the level where the Erie Railroad crosses Main street. Its waters are extremely pure and crystal-like, and con- tain the slightest trace of iron,-not enough to affect the taste, but just enough to render them wholesome and health-giving.
The village election of March, 1898, resulted in the choice of Ananias B. Hulse, President; Theodore Clark and Sanford S. Lewis, Trustees; Henry Mapes, Treasurer; Ezra Welling, Collector; Edward H. Seaman, Police Justice.
By ordinance the names of the streets of the vil- lage have been changed and finally fixed. Among them are such historic ones as Ramapo and Schune- munk. But the climax was reached when one on the outskirts was called Freeland street,-for what
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reason we cannot divine, except that fifty years ago it was full of snow-banks and " thank-'e-ma'ams," and, like its namesake, there was room for improvement. For time, that stern old conjurer that wrinkles and furrows our faces, ofttimes takes the kinks out of roads, adorns the face of nature with vines and mosses, and has even made the Rotten Row of the city of London into the abode of aristocracy.
And now, as our task draws toward a conclusion, we may say it has been a pleasant one, truly a labor of love. While it has been a symposium, with the company of those who have gone before and left their footsteps on the sands of time, we have had before us the present generation, especially the youth of Monroe; seeking to impress upon them the lessons which the noble history of their town, the folk-lore, and the natural advantages of its situation have for them. If they will look out on the superb mountain- girt plain, what a field there is for growth! But let them eliminate from it everything that would put the bar sinister upon its fair escutcheon. While loving their native hills with all a Switzer's patriotism, let them climb to the mountain-tops and look to the wide, wide world beyond, and help with honest toil to solve some of its great problems of labor, liberty and fraternity. What the age wants are men of in- tegrity, administering every trust conscientiously, "faithful in little, faithful in much." Pursuing the good of man and the glory of God, we bid adieu to our readers with a few lines found in our portfolio :
Where the Highlands plant their feet, On the clover plains below, Nestles a hamlet neat - The village of Monroe.
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What time the sunlight gleams On silvery Ramapo Reflected in her streams Is picturesque Monroe.
Beside the long-drawn street The graceful maples grow, And lights and shadows meet On our pathway in Monroe.
The anvil doth resound ; The mill-wheel echoes low ; And wheels of industry spin round In wide-awake Monroe.
By academic walks The children come and go; By fireside list the talks Of old folks in Monroe.
Her church bells sound the lay, That young and old may know The life, the truth, the way To the hills beyond Monroe.
On her with lavish hand May Heaven brave gifts bestow, And choicest benison command On the good folks of Monroe ! - NIL.
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