America’s Forgotten First Frontier

Bookmark and Share

America’s forgotten first frontierBefore America looked west, it looked here.

Before the wild wilderness of Alaska, before the trans-Mississippi west, even before the Appalachian forests and the Cumberland Gap, the Greater Western New York region stood as America’s First Frontier. It was a rugged place where individuals could test the fruits of its promise—and sometimes discover its limits.

But it was tamed.
Quickly tamed.
Too quick for history books to notice.

And so, it slipped quietly out of the national memory.

Until a sportscaster unintentionally reframed its true origin story.

When Chris Berman proclaimed, “Nobody circles the wagons like the Buffalo Bills,” he wasn’t merely referring to a professional football team. He was describing a people. Perhaps without realizing it, he was echoing the rich experience of the region’s earliest pioneers—men and women who braved brutal winters to build permanent homes in the post-Revolutionary War virgin arboreal woodlands and lush valleys of the Greater Western New York Region.

Far beyond the settled coastal cities of the Atlantic, this was the first true frontier of the new nation. Unlike what would later become Kentucky and Ohio, it lay within an original state rather than a federal territory. That distinction mattered more than history remembers.

Known as “terra incognito” during the colonial era, western New York was home to the Seneca and Cayuga, two member nations of the Iroquois Confederacy. The French were the first Europeans to pass through. Their explorers camped here. Their missionaries converted here. Their soldiers fought and built forts here.

But they didn’t settle here.

That omission was not accidental. Western New York was too valuable to ignore—and too dangerous to control without alliances.

It became a critical artery in the economy of New France, later brokered by the Dutch, and ultimately claimed by the British. That final transfer was secured not by force alone, but through alliance with the Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy.

The Seneca served as “Keepers of the Western Door.” Ostensibly defensive, that door became a gateway to expansion. During the Beaver Wars, the Confederacy used it to eliminate the Erie tribe and to push its Algonquin adversaries off the map. This left the lands west of the Genesee River wholly vacated a century before the Revolutionary War.

The consequences were profound. French trappers lost their allies. British traders gained control of the valuable fur routes along the fertile waters that flow through western New York and beyond. And America’s First Frontier became one of the earliest battlegrounds for European supremacy in upper North America.

The Western New York region has always been a strategic crossroads.

Long before French missionaries first set foot in the New World, the feud between the Confederacy and its Iroquoian and Algonquin neighbors had been ongoing. The arrival of the Europeans didn’t change the dynamic. It intensified it.

At one time or another, all four Old World powers laid claim to the region. Ambitious Spanish claims, the French fur trade, the Netherlands river-based financial colonies, and the British desire for Empire, all collided here (and elsewhere).

Spain’s claim existed only on paper. They never came close. The Dutch, on the other hand, made the unfortunate decision to choose the Erie as their partners. When the Cat Nation disappeared, New Netherlands shortly followed, mostly without a fight. Mostly.

The French and the British, however, did what the French and the British always did. They went to war. Whether you call it “The French and Indian War” (as North Americans do) or the “Seven Years’ War” (as Europeans do), its outcome determined the fate of American colonies.

Decades later, before Horace Greeley championed Manifest Destiny when his New York Tribune pronounced, “Go West, young man,” New Englanders loaded up their wagons and headed down the ancient Central Trail of the Iroquois Confederacy. They looked past Geneva, at that time, the westernmost settlement in New York State (which itself became a point of controversy).

The Greater Western New York Region promised opportunity and risk in equal measure. It became the proving ground for a new nation’s first attempts to settle undeveloped land.

But it was more than that.

As George Washington quickly learned, America’s first frontier wasn’t just about the pioneers; in true mythic form, this west also posed diplomatic challenges regarding the conquered peoples who had previously claimed the land. The dance between state and federal power in the infant United States proved precarious. Fortunately, Washington’s wisdom and restraint helped protect both the State of New York and the Seneca Nation.

Still, uncertainty lingered.

Though technically part of New York State, the western portion of this original colony lacked clearly defined boundaries. Not until the War of 1812 would the dispute of the “Mile Strip” on the Niagara River be resolved.

Before then, however, the future of the Greater Western New York Region was cloudy at best. It stood on the cusp of history, on the edge of possibility.

Would that history be British, as part of Upper Canada?
Would it remain tethered to America and New York State?
Or would it become an independent state, following Vermont’s example?

Indeed, within a decade of the Paris Treaty that ended the Revolutionary War, no fewer than three attempts were made to separate Greater Western New York from New York State. What was the motivation for this? Why did they fail? How did state and local leaders respond? And what does that response reveal about the fragile architecture of the early republic?

Those unanswered questions are not historical curiosities.

They are the central mystery of our own backyard.

As we celebrate America’s 250th, perhaps now is a good time to rediscover a chapter of our past that unfolded quietly, quickly, and almost invisibly.

A history too often skipped in classrooms.
A history unfamiliar to many elected officials.
A history even seasoned historians sometimes overlook.

It’s the history of America’s forgotten first frontier.

And it leads, inevitably, to one enduring question that can finally be revealed to you:

Why did Vermont become a state—
but Greater Western New York did not?

Interested? Have you joined the 1786 Project yet? Go to http://1786project.com/ to access cool stuff about the history of the Greater Western New York Region! (And find out how to participate in the hidden treasure hunt!)

Should Stolen Art Be Returned—Even If It Hurts the Innocent?

Bookmark and Share
Stolen Art

Monuments Man Lt. Frank P. Albright, Polish Liaison Officer Maj. Karol Estreicher, Monuments Man Capt. Everett Parker Lesley, and Pfc. Joe D. Espinosa, guard with the 34th Field Artillery Battalion, pose with Leonardo da Vinci’s Lady with an Ermine upon its return to Poland in April 1946. Source: Wikipedia Commons

The Thief’s Gambit—A Patriot’s Heist or a Crook’s Crime?

Vincenzo Peruggia slipped into the Louvre just like everybody else. Except he wasn’t.

It was Friday, August 11, 1911, in the middle of a week-long heat. Only two days before, the temperature in sunbaked Paris hit 100° F. Today, as the work week came to a close, local thermometers would read 36°. That would be Celsius. In Fahrenheit, that would be 96.8°.

The Louvre wasn’t merely one of the world’s most renowned art galleries. On this hot day, it offered a bit of cool shade from the bright yellow disk burning above in the clear blue sky. That wasn’t why Vincenzo entered the building. He had worked there. His job was to build a glass case that would display a particular painting. That painting was Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa.

But ol’ Vinny didn’t happen into the museum for work. He calmly ventured in with all the other Continue Reading “Should Stolen Art Be Returned—Even If It Hurts the Innocent?”

Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: Dunkirk, The Last Frontier

Bookmark and Share

Previous: Fast Fredonia Frenzy

It was three o’clock in the morning when Lafayette and his travel partners left Fredonia. They weren’t alone. A horde of enthusiastic citizens accompanied the nation’s guest to the Superior, the famous Great Lakes steamer that had been waiting offshore in the Dunkirk harbor from the previous day.

The late (or early) hour had no impact on the escort. They gladly trudged through the dew and mud. It would be something they would remember for the rest of their lives. There they were. Side by side with the Revolutionary War hero, the friend of George Washington, an icon they could only dream of meeting.

After all, who were they, these pioneers of Western New York? Sure, a few were surviving Continue Reading “Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: Dunkirk, The Last Frontier”

Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: Special Delivery To Westfield, A Fitting First

Bookmark and Share

Previous: The Making Of The Buffalo And Erie Road

Was Lafayette supposed to depart Erie by land or by sea? As late as May 31, 1825, organizers in Erie, Pennsylvania tried to arrange steamboat accommodations for the General. The ship was to convey the Nation’s Guest from Erie directly to Buffalo.1

Confusion reigned over Lafayette’s exact itinerary. You see, he had promised to attend the dedication ceremonies for the Bunker Hill Monument on the anniversary date of that battle. That meant he had to be in Boston by June 17th. Initial reports said he would not visit Western New York until after laying the cornerstone on the Bunker Hill Monument.2 The newspaper corrected this misinformation the following week, just a day before Lafayette would cross the state line into Chautauqua County.3

What firmed Lafayette’s travel plans? Olive Risley Seward’s grandfather commanded the militia for the Lafayette reception in Fredonia. In addition, her then eleven-year-old father and nine-year-old mother also attended—and remembered—Lafayette’s 1825 visit to Fredonia. Based on the stories from her family, she wrote the following in 1904: “An Continue Reading “Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: Special Delivery To Westfield, A Fitting First”

Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: The Making Of The Buffalo And Erie Road

Bookmark and Share

Previous: Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: The State Of Greater Western New York In 1825

At the turn of the 19th century, a dense forest covered the southwest corner of New York State—what is now Chautauqua County. A rough trail that followed the Lake Erie shore represented the only visible evidence of human occupation. Except for what appeared to be remnants of a chimney right on the lake.1 The trail was brutal. Settlers journeying to Connecticut’s lands in the future state of Ohio preferred to take the water route over Lake Erie from Black Rock, just off Buffalo Creek.2

That chimney might well have been the ruins of what Sir William Johnson described as a Continue Reading “Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: The Making Of The Buffalo And Erie Road”

Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: Lafayette Prepares To Enter The Greater Western New York Region

Bookmark and Share

Previous: Overview Of His 1824-1825 American Visit (Part II)

The sun rose the morning of Friday, June 3, 1825, at 4:05am local time in Waterford, Pennsylvania.1 Lafayette had two weeks—14 days—to travel 550 miles and visit almost two dozen towns and villages before the June 17th dedication of the Bunker Hill Monument in Boston. He was determined to meet every community he promised to visit. Speed was of the essence.

But he couldn’t show it. At least not in a too obvious way.

Roughly three hours after the break of dawn, at about 7 o’clock, Lafayette’s party left Waterford for the seat of the County, Erie, Pennsylvania.2 Though technically still in the Continue Reading “Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: Lafayette Prepares To Enter The Greater Western New York Region”

Ground Control To Commander Tom

Bookmark and Share

You hear stories from older generations about having to “walk a mile back and forth to school each day… in a snowstorm… and it was uphill both ways!”

Well, truth be told, for my brother and me, it was just under a half mile each way. Four-tenths of a mile from our house at the end of the street (187 Abbott Parkway) all the way up to the school bus stop at the corner of South Park Ave, then a narrow two lanes.

Living in Blasdell meant we were in the crosshairs of the lake effect snow machine south of Buffalo, so you could bet your bottom dollar we often walked during snowstorms. And rainstorms. And thunderstorms. And thundersnow. And even hot (almost) summer days towards the end of the school year. Yeah, mom made sure we always dressed for the Continue Reading “Ground Control To Commander Tom”

Ode to a Once Mighty Oak

Bookmark and Share

And in that brief moment, its reign ended.

We don’t know how old it really was, but the centuries had exacted their toll. Despite the efforts of the valiant few, the rot that builds with age had eaten its way through the internal fabric that once supported its mighty infrastructure.

When that final gust rushed through, the great citadel had fallen. It had stood for so long that those closest to it, stunned by the fatal reality before their own eyes, could only muster an anemic disbelief.

All that incredulity could not suspend the finality that was. It was gone. Not really. But really.

*          *          *

The Seneca tribe was a fierce warrior tribe. They had to be. They guarded the “west gate” of the Iroquois Confederacy. From that position, they both protected one flank of their Continue Reading “Ode to a Once Mighty Oak”

It’s Not What You Say, It’s How You Say It

Bookmark and Share

Winters in New Haven, Connecticut aren’t nearly as severe as those in the Greater Western New York region. I had proudly proclaimed my home town ever since that sun-drenched day in September of 1978 when I first stepped onto campus. As a result, when the winds of winter arrived, as a native of Buffalo, I felt obliged to walk the talk. That meant, on a regular basis, when temperatures “dipped” into the low thirties, I would trudge out of my dorm in nothing but gym shorts and walk to the post office to get my mail. (Before you get too impressed, the post office was located in the basement of my hall. There was no interior access, so I had to walk outside into the raised courtyard, down the steps to ground level, then turn a quick right before descending another set of stairs before, finally, entering the mail center.)

I remember one of those treks quite vividly. There I was, sauntering (after all, walking hastily would make it seem as though I feared the frigid temperature) through the courtyard without a shirt one coolish evening. Establishing a different form of cool, I stopped to talk to some friends. (I remember one saying to the other, “It’s cold, why isn’t he wearing a shirt?” The other responded, “He’s from Buffalo.” The first person said “Oh” with a knowing nod.)Continue Reading “It’s Not What You Say, It’s How You Say It”

The Lost Tribe of Western New York

Bookmark and Share

By the summer of 1679, René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle had approached his wit’s end. His faithful lieutenant, the Neapolitan  Henri de Tonti, had already repulsed one attempt by the Seneca to burn La Salle’s soon-to-be sailing ship Le Griffon. A year earlier, in hopes to attain a promise of peace, La Salle had travelled seventy-five miles east to the Seneca village of Ganondagan, located on present-day Boughton Hill, just outside of the Village of Victor, about 20 miles south of Rochester.1 Peace was promised, but as the attempted arson proved, wasn’t necessarily guaranteed. So, ahead of schedule, on August 7, 1679, La Salle gave the order to weigh anchor and commanded twelve burly sailors to grab tow-lines and walk Le Griffon from the shallow ten-foot waters of Squaw Island, through the rushing rapids of the Niagara River and, with the help of a much hoped for northeast breeze, into the calm waters of what his native tongue called Lac du Chat (Lake Erie).2 Embarking on La Salle’s mission in search of the Northwest Passage, Le Griffon thus became the first large ship to grace the waters of the Great Lakes above the Niagara Falls.

But it also left several intriguing questions: How did the Lake he sailed into get its name? More interestingly, why did he need to travel to the east side of the Genesee River nearly to the other end of Western New York to speak to the Indians? Indeed, what had happened to the native (at least relative to the Europeans) Western New Yorkers?Continue Reading “The Lost Tribe of Western New York”

You cannot copy content of this page

Skip to content