HomeMy WebLinkAboutnobles family history (2).pdf SOME OLD FAMILY HOUSE LOCATIONS IN ENFIELD
Source -- Byron D. Noble in 1937 (born 1865)
l., The original log cabin of John Nobles and family from 1810-was
located "across from the schoolhouse" in a clearing.
2. Then a house was built just west of the last and presently
existing "homestead house" by Squire J. Nobles around 1816
1818. Arthur S. Nobles was born there. John Nobles conveyed
this 100 acre farm to Squire J. in 1825. Squire J. and family
lived there until his death in 1878. Hie- wife, Hannah, died
in 1879. Then Anson Nobles, oldest son of Arthur, lived there
with his first wife (nee- Ada Howser.) before he later left'
her and went west to North Dakota and Michigan. Then this
house apparently was left vacant until demolished. '
3. There was another house built at .some time just east of the
last mentioned house, just to the east of the later "Homestead
House" lane- Arthur S. Nobles and family lived there and
Anson, Byron and Truman Nobles were born -there (1857, 1859
and 1865).
4. On March 11, 1873, Arthur S. Nobles purchased of-;the Moses'
Wafer `Estate :the farm down the road to the east,on Military
Lot 67 (dater the Anson Nobles farm) and moved there. My
father, John A. Noble, was born there on October l.' 1875. The
house mentioned in No. 3 above was- torn down sometime later.
5. When Squire J; died January: 12, 1878, he- left the%100 acre
homestead farm to Arthur 5. .Nobles with the provision that he
pay certain cash amounts to his brothers and sisters. Then
Anson Nobles and-family lived there as stated above, until
Anson left for the west. Then the house was left vacant and
in a decaying state for some years. In the 1890s, Anson came
back from the; west to build a new house for his father, Arthur
S. The vacant Squire J. house was torn down and Anson, who .was
a builder, built the existing "Homestead House" of Victorian
style, started in, 1895 and finished in 1896. Arthur and family''
lived there until his death in April, 1913. His. widow; Frances
Ann, soon moved to Trumbuils Corners and the house remained
vacant until it was sold .in 1919 and came into the possession
of Fred W. Smith.
6. On October 11, 1906, . Arthur S. sold and conveyed the "Wafer, Place"
(No. 4 above) . to .Anson Nobles and wife, Hattie Hone Nobles, then
of Toledo, Ohio, and they lived there until Hattie, then a widow,
sold the farm in 1939 to the Sherman. Grover family.
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION, HOUSES.
Source: Hulse Smith in 1973 (He was born 1887)
As early as Hulse can remember:
Arthur S. Noble& and family lived in the Wafer house until the
Victorian "Homestead House" was built in 1895-6.
Before it was built, the old Squire J. house was still there,
located about 25'-30' west of the location of the new "Home-
stead House".
As far back as Hulse can remember,, the old Squire J. house,
a story-and-a-half structure, was vacant until finally torn
down by Anson.. He said that the doors Were open and it, was-in
a poor state for years before it was demolished. He also said
that there were no remains of the other house that was located
east of the old Squire J. house.. 1
According to "Landmarks of Tompkins County", the y A 4 i f �r e
road running in front of the "Homestead House" Iry d/c Q. Z;�0 v
was once known as " bles-- Street". i"a y 4 h m Q v ?
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Lumber sawing bill presented to Squire J. -Nobles- apparently
relates to material for building a house since it includes
"one seller dore fram" . Does it relate to the old Squire J.
house or the one east of it? Was Squire J. house built in
1833, not 1818 or 1819?
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An account written out by Squire J. Nobles. Raises question- -
Who- was - "moving to Chenangof'?
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EARLY MOTORING IN ENFIELD
Shortly after moving to Ithaca from Chicago in 1911,
my father invested in his first motorized vehicle, a gray
Harley-Davison motorcycle. To this was fitted a seat behind
the driver for my mother and a small seat between the handle-
bars for me, on which I was held by a strap. The one and
only "long" trip taken by the family on this contraption
took place one Sunday when the family decided to try the
journey up to 'my grandfather's home in Enfield. At that
time, the Enfield Falls Road was a dirt road with a goodly
mixture of clay, making the trip slow and difficult. At
"Teeter Hill" , the machine balked and the belt drive began
to slip so that it was necessary for both my father and
mother ,to dismount and push the motorcycle the whole dis-
tance up the hill while I remained perched on my handlebar
seat. We finally arrived at the Arthur S . Nobles residence
and my father spent some of the time there "showing off"
the machine in the side yard and giving rides to Winifred
Taggart, the little girl who was being brought up by my
Uncle Anson' s family.
The motorcycle proved to be unsatisfactory for any
practical purposes and in 1912 my father purchased from
The A. W. Davis Garage a "Model T" Ford touring car. This
proud possession was adorned with brass acetylene headlights,
run by a tank of 'the gas mounted on the running board, brass
radiator, dash lights and windshield struts,` with a crank
out front with which to start the thing. The starting pro-
cedure was somewhat dangerous and complicated, consisting
of first setting - the gas and `spark levers, located just
under the steering wheel, just so, getting out and crank-
ing the motor out in front, then, if the motor finally
runni
ng bank to adjust the as and
and started J g
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sP ark levers so that the motor did not stop. Since there
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was no real front door on the driver's side but only a
stamped out door shape in the sheet metal, the adjustment ,
had to take place by standing on the running board and
reaching over into the car. The cranking procedure had
its perils since the crank could jerk back with great
force and break the operator's arm, a result which my
father fortunately avoided. Of the quality of the early
tires , the less said, the better. Tire irons, blow-out
patches, manual pumps and main strength and force were
the order of the day.
When my father bought this car, he had no idea
about its operation. Mr. Davis suggested that one Robert
Mandeville, who, worked around the garage, go out with him
and instruct him. My father and mother decided that this
first jaunt should be up to Enfield to the home of my
Uncle Anson. We all started out, Mandeville giving his
instructions to my father as we went along. Arriving at
the farm, Aunt Hattie put on a real country meal as only she
could prepare it. Mandeville was an odd character but that.
did not interfere with his appetite. He wolfed down helping
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after helping of stewed chicken and biscuits until fear began
to be felt for the crockery, topping it off with a large hunk
of elderberry pie. When he was asked whether he would care
for another piece of pie, Mandeville replied, "Don' t care if
I do :" , and took up a tin containing half a pie, slid it
onto his plate and polished it off in short order. My aunt
later remarked that he had outdone anyone who had ever been
at her table, including the threshers.
One April day in 1913, word came to my father over
the country crank-telephone that my grandfather was in a
serious condition and not expected to live the day out . We
were then living at 202 East State Street in a third-story
apartment over the T . D. Sullivan store. My parents hastily '
arranged for my care at home and started out for Enfield in
the "Model T" . The spring rains had done their work and
the road up was in an unusually bad condition,"Teeter Hill"
a near disaster and the going was slow and treacherous . After
grinding and churning through the mire they finally reached
my grandfather' s house only to be informed that he had passed
away Just before they drove into the yard.
A few years previously, my father had bought from my
grandfather our present twenty-one acre parcel known as "The
South Place" which was being farmed by my uncle. During a
Sunday visit to the area, my father drove us over to the
place to look over the crops. The road up from .the main
dirt road was little more than a lane, hedged in by trees
and bushes. Halfway up the lane the figure of old Frances
Griffin appeared before us, brandishing a cane and demand-
ing that we halt, blasting us with some well-chosen, color-
ful imprecations . She would not let us pass on until she
had gone by. Her attitude reflected the suspicion and
hostility still directed by some country people toward the
growing "Motor Age" .
This "Model T" , despite some shortcomings and its
numerous tire troubles , did carry us safely over largely
unimproved roads to Chicago and back in the summer of 1914.
It came to a sad end, however, when it was stolen one night
by two Cornell students and taken for a "Joy-ride" which
ended when they crashed it into a tree over in Danby.
My father bought another "Model T" and was talked
into "customizing" it, which did nothing to improve its
appearance. Fortunately, he did not have this very .long
because it ended up in front of the old mill up in Newfield
Village with a broken axle. The mill hands brought' out
rollers and dragged it off the road and it was ignominiously
towed off to Ithaca. At this point, my father gave up on
the "Model T" and "graduated" to a 1916 Chevrolet.
Another event concerning Enfield and the early Fords
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relates to a Jewish fellow named Finklestein who started to
drive up "Eliza Jane Hill" and stalled his "Model T" -at the
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foot of the hill by the bridge. He cranked it up, got in,
drove backwards and backed off down into the creek gully.
After he was pulled out, he was asked by his rescuers how
it had all happened. Replied Finklestein in his fractured
English, "I thought I had it in mutual and I had it in
go-back 1"..
My Uncle Anson, who had never driven anything but
horses, finally decided to take the plunge and purchased
a "Model T" in 1917. During a visit one Sunday, my father
undertook to teach my uncle to drive it. They started out
along the country dirt road, my uncle at the wheel nervously
trying to follow instructions. Finally, sighting a horse
and wagon approaching from the opposite direction, he
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promptly drove off into the ditch and, with the car still
jerking along, jumped out over the door on the driverts
side, shouting over his shoulder, "Here, you take the
j
son-of-a-bitch :" He never attempted to drive again and
the car remained housed in its pristine beauty for years
until he finally disposed of it.
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