Story and undated photos from the archives of The Almond Historical Society Almond Historical Society and The Canisteo Valley Historical Society
Approximately 50 years ago, the bones of a grand house stood as a shell in the hills of Bishopville. Its history was still a vibrant memory of a few residents in the area at that time. The house was eventually burned to the ground by vandals.
Prior to that, in 1973, the Evening Tribune Sunday Spectator printed an article which captured the distinctiveness and uniqueness of the landmark:
“Wind tugs at the tattered calico scraps hanging in pane-less windows. Grey side walls sag as the house shifts and sighs on a fall afternoon. Years of music, Virginia reels and big sit-down dinners have given way to silence that is broken only by hundreds of birds, an occasional vandal or a curious motorist.
When the timbers crumble, all that will remain of the once bustling North Hill Stagecoach Way Station in Almond will be a dusty deed and the memories of three or four area residents.
The house, a ruin, still has an irresistible appeal, as shown in a color slide project done by Bob Amidon, an Arkport Central School student. The house dominates the top of the hill that was once the point of convergence of three major stagecoach routes that ran from Angelica, Bath and Canaseraga up the hill.
Courageous motorists driving from Arkport on the Bishopville Road and up Bailey Hill Road may find, once they reach the top, that the house has a foreboding air.
A weird sprinkling of furniture and segments of books help tell the grand home’s story.
William Ellis owned the property until his death. His son-in-law, Harold Gilbert of Dansville, backed up some impressions gained from finding an 1886 mathematics regents examination, several mid-19th century books and other examinations in the large upstairs room that was once a ballroom.
Until 1950, furniture filled the rooms, and Ellis spent part of the year there with his family. Today, his children in Arkport and Dansville pay taxes on the house and 143 acre farm, but the huge structure is deserted.
‘I think the house was once the center for town meetings, since I used to see supervisor’s books. Also, the family used to board teachers from the nearby schoolhouse in the early part of this century’, Gilbert said.
The upstairs room, which stretches over half of the second floor, is the most mysterious room in the house. A wooden platform where a three-piece band once made hundreds of feet glide still stands in a corner. Until last year, 20 feet long wooden benches ran along the sides of the room, but they have gone to family members and friends. Remnants of bright blue curtains still adorn the room’s many windows.
Gilbert is one of a very few people to know anything of the way station’s history. ‘The first home on the site was built about 1844, my father-in-law said, by Jud Watkins, and was operated as a stagecoach way station. People would stay in some of the extra rooms, but it wasn’t a hotel.’
‘In 1878, the house was struck by lightning’, Gilbert continued, ‘and was immediately rebuilt with the same design.’ It is still easy to see the home’s graceful Greek revival pillars and portico door, which were characteristics of 19th century architecture in the area.
‘By 1880, the railroad was coming to take over’, Gilbert said, ’and Watkins sold it to the Ellises.’
During stagecoach days, the house had a cupola with glass on each side, so stagecoaches could be seen approaching from any direction. The cupola’s maintenance became too costly, Gilbert said, and it was dismantled.
The second house, built in 1878, is the one that now sags on North Hill. The Ellises lived there until 1939, then took on a house in the Bishopville Valley and shuttled back and forth until 1950, when keeping both homes became too difficult.
Then, they vacated the North Hill house, leaving much of the furniture intact. Since then, he said, the house has been vandalized 30 times, and the stock of furniture and decorations is all but depleted.
Ellis, who died four years ago, raised buckwheat, potatoes and corn, Gilbert said. The farmland is now partly rented to other farmers, and the rest of the land is overgrown with thick grass and weeds. ‘We once figured out that 30 farms within four miles of the house disappeared in my father-in-law’s lifetime,’ Gilbert said.
Gilbert has heard the house had a covered walkway leading from the house to the barn so stage travelers could board in comfort. It is still easy to climb to the roof of the house by sturdy stairs for a legendary view of three counties.
The stone foundation outline of the large barn is also obvious from the roof view. On the roof, a visitor feels the incessant west wind that has shifted the house 18 inches on its foundation over the years.
The house had some unusual features, including a built-in five-holer in the back room. Watkins was from a family of musicians, according to information from Mrs. Rodney Sheffield of Angelica, and two pianos on the first floor are still semi-functional. One, a flat piano, is charming although its legs have been stolen.
Area residents who are familiar with the house remember dances that brought neighbors together when they were young. In those days, it was not an easy trip from Almond to Canaseraga and people valued neighborly company.
As the railroad and automobiles devalued the dances for many people, the house became quiet, and finally stood alone.”
