Our Sunday Afternoon Trip to the Burrville Cider Mill
near Watertown, N. Y.
September 30, 2001
1801-2001
It was Sunday afternoon (Sunday, September 30, 2001). My husband and I had just arrived in Watertown for our fall visit to our hometown in Jefferson County, N. Y. We planned to see our brothers and sisters, contact new friends, spend considerable time in the library and The Times office, and perhaps revisit some of the sites and sounds of our past. You know.....those “go-there-one-more-time” jaunts that one hopes to accomplish. The weather in Jefferson County that afternoon was absolutely gorgeous with a tiny breeze and a panorama of color that MGM would have difficulty in reproducing. Wishing to make the most of our time while home, we chose to start right off by visiting the Burrville Cider Mill -- the setting was appropriate -- since Sunday afternoon in the Fall of the year was when our parents took their children for an afternoon ride to the Mill. Let’s do it.
Oops, we had forgotten where the Mill was located -- we both remembered the turn to have been at the very end of State Street Hill -- perhaps a righthand turn would do it. We motored out Route 12 a ways and then decided that we’d better get directions. We found some people loading up with drinking water at a little stand there. They told us to keep going out Route 12 until we came to a bar on the righthand side -- then turn. A few hundred feet up that road and there was our target. Sadly, nothing looked familiar to either of us, but surely enough, the parking lot was bedlam -- lots of people had the same idea. We parked the car amid people, pumpkins and mums (inappropriately we later decided) and then opened the van door to the smells of autumn in Northern New York. Huge bins of apples in various stages of ripeness were evident all around the building -- the bees were enjoying the sunshine and if it's possible, the sweetness of the apples.
A tremendously busy sales room was next in view -- but one we couldn’t pluck from our memories of 44 years ago. Doesn’t work like that, does it? The doors were wide open and we compared the scene to the anteroom of modern day “Cracker Barrel Restaurants.”
The smell of doughnuts frying permeated the air -- not especially fit for my bad travelling stomach, though. My husband noticed the price of the cheese curd -- something he always has to buy when visiting the North Country. He passed on that -- as it turned out he had plans to buy that at East Hounsfield later in the week.
My mission, now that I’ve become very interested in Jefferson County History, was to find evidence of the original structure of a mill as written about in Marc Mosher’s (my favorite history) "A History of the Jefferson County Region."
Here is what Marc writes:
“Burrville Cider Mill, formerly known as Burr's Mills and bought and named after Captain John Burr, was built in 1801. It was first used as a sawmill and a gristmill and is located at the head of the north branch of Sandy Creek on a thirty foot waterfall. The waterfall was used to run a turbine that powered the mill's equipment. There is record of a cider press being in use in the mill as far back as the 1800's. Captain Burr himself is something of a mystery, but it was rumored that he was a pirate who would steal from supply ships on Lake Ontario and then sell the cargo back to the troops at Sackets Harbor. Some say his ghost still visits the mill.”
We sauntered down around the outside, front entrance, in hopes of getting a good look at the whole property. As I was chattering away about the stonework which may have been part of the original structure at one time or another for one purpose or another, the young press worker joyfully invited us in to see the equipment once used in the cidermaking process. At first he gave me the impression he knew how long this property had been in use, but now I don’t think so. Could he have any conception of 200 years’ worth of activity at this site -- and the wilderness from which it was established? Not likely. Some of the equipment in that basement was still being used. I was still fascinated by the stonework around the basement and hopefully the film on our second camera will yield an image good enough to post here. We confess to being poor photographers and my husband admits to his failure to take the time to understand the settings on the digital camera. Oh, well.
Then, we took a trip out back of the mill. A much steeper falls than I ever remember provided untold afternoon beauty as they protected a series of wooden stairs leading down into another portion of the mill. Very pretty site. I doubt that the falls in any way are used for power but I didn’t ask. I suppose there must have been a brochure available, but there were so many people around, we didn't search for one. As my husband questioned me about the best place from which to take a photo, he wasn’t being very discrete in telling me he was worried about where he parked our van. So, a photo was hastily taken.
As to Capt. Burr's ghost -- no sign of him, but then, he may have been catching up on his rest for an evening appearance!!!
At last, we had revisited a childhood scene. Was this trip going to be successful or what!!! We headed back down the hill toward State Street and contemplated how best to get to northbound Route 12 for our next two stops near Depauville.
Shirley Farone
The Falls at Burrville Mill