If you squint, you can see two men and a boy at the base of Carpenter’s Falls.
The Sherwood Inn, as seen by artist Melissa Hornung of Skaneateles.
In July of 1973, the Skaneateles Polo Club hosted the United States Polo Association’s Northeast Circuit Eight-Goal championship at the polo field on Andrews Road. The tourney winner was the Fairfield County Hunt Club of Westport, Connecticut, a team which included future polo Hall of Famer George Haas.
But most notably, the umpire/referee was Charles Robertson “Hurricane Bob” Skene, surely the greatest polo player to ever trot onto the field in Skaneateles.
Skene was born in India, the son of an Australian planter. His father taught him the game, and as a young man he played in England for an Australian team, then was chosen for the British Westchester Cup team.
When WWII came, duty called and he enlisted in an Indian regiment; he arrived in Malaya one week before the fall of Singapore. He spent the next three years in a Japanese prison. In 1949, he returned to polo, as if he had never been away, playing for Britain against Argentina. In 1950, he moved to the U.S., playing for and managing the Beverly Hills Polo Club; in 1960, he became the manager of the Santa Barbara Polo Club.
Skene held a 10-goal ranking, the highest there is, for 17 years. He won three U.S. Opens, and twice played and won for Argentine teams in the Argentine Open. He was swept into the U.S. Polo Hall of Fame in 1990 in the first round of nominations.
In 1972 and 1973, already a legend, Skene toured U.S. polo clubs, sharing his knowledge of the sport. He was in Skaneateles from July 15th to July 22nd, 1973. He gave an umpire’s clinic, and acted as umpire for the tournament. Margaret Chase, who was timing the matches, remembers Skene as a very confident, very self-possessed man who knew who he was and what he could do, but who wasn’t at all affected by it.
When not on the field, Skene would sit in the booth and, with just a trace of an Australian accent, give a quiet, insightful, running commentary on the play. Chase said that it was an extraordinary education.
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Photo above: Robert Skene in 1939, photographed for Life magazine by Alfred Eisenstaedt
Millard Fillmore, the 13th President of the United States, writes of his childhood and the remarkable clarity of Skaneateles Lake, circa 1810:
“My father then left the town, and removed into what was then Sempronius (now Niles), in the same county. Here he took a perpetual lease of a small farm of about one hundred and thirty acres, wholly uncultivated, and covered with heavy timber. He built a small log house and commenced clearing the land; and it was at this place and in these pursuits that I first knew anything of life.
“That farm is about one mile west of Skaneateles Lake, ten miles from its outlet, and about one mile east of a little hamlet called Newhope.
“I had, like most boys, a great passion for hunting and fishing, but my father was very unwilling to indulge it. He used to tell me that no man ever prospered who spent much of his time in hunting and fishing; and that those employments were only fit for Indians, or white men no better than they. Consequently, I had no gun, and could only enjoy the sport of shooting when I could borrow of a neighbor.
“Nevertheless, when I had any spare time I used to go down to the lake, and fish and bathe in its limpid waters. It was indeed one of the clearest and most beautiful lakes which I have ever seen. The canoe seemed suspended in mid-air, and the fish could be seen at great depths.”
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Written at the request of the Buffalo Historical Society in 1871, these memories were published as “Millard Fillmore’s Youth: Narrative of His Early Years” in Publications of the Buffalo Historical Society, Millard Fillmore Papers, in 1907. Fillmore served as U.S. President from 1850 until 1853, assuming the office upon the death of Zachary Taylor.
This photo of Fillmore is by Mathew B. Brady, circa 1855-1865, from the collection of the Library of Congress; the postcard of New Hope and Carpenter’s Point shown above is by an unknown photographer.
From the collection of Bill Hecht, via Digital Librarian: Skaneateles
“On Tuesday, Sept. 1st [1846], we were present at the celebration of Skaneateles [Odd Fellows] Lodge No. 193 where we had the pleasure of greeting brethren from Auburn, Syracuse, Weedsport, Jordan, etc. It was a beautiful day, and the charming village of Skaneateles shone in her glory.
“The procession was formed in front of the Lake House, about 12 o’clock, under the direction of Bro. Jason Reed, and marched in the following order: 1. Skaneateles Band, 2. Skaneateles Lodge, 3. Neighboring Lodges, 4. Orator and Committee of Reception, 5. Members of Encampments. The appearance of the procession was very fine and imposing. A more intelligent class of men were never assembled together.
“The exercises at the church were interesting. The meeting was called to order by the D.D. Grand Master W.H. Jewett Esq., when the Opening Ode was sung by the Brethren. Then followed a most appropriate, fervent, and impressive prayer by the Rev. Bro. J. T. Hough of the Presbyterian Church, Cato; this was succeeded by music by the band after which came the Oration of which it does not become us to speak.
“The church was filled with the beauty and intelligence of the town and all seemed to enter with spirit into the exercises. The presence of so many charming ladies could not fail to inspire any orator whose heart was not entirely withered.
“Not the least of the attractions was the luxurious dinner provided by Bro. Fay, of the Lake House. The brethren did not seem forgetful of their duty to it.
“In the afternoon, accompanied by Brothers Jewett and Snook, we amused ourself with a sail upon the beautiful lake, and in the evening, by the politeness of Bro. Fowler and others, we were entertained with a ride along its shores.
“The village of Skaneateles is built around the foot of the lake which bears the same name, and seen from many points, presents a beautiful and picturesque appearance. It is well ornamented with shrubbery, and shaded with foliage, and the country around is beautifully varied. The lake, however, is its chief attraction; it is so pure, and sweeps so gracefully through that fertile country, and among those green hills. We need not say we left this enchanting place with regret.”
– From The Golden Rule, September 12, 1846, the Rev. A.C.L. Arnold
Note: The Lake House was built in 1824 by David Hall, on the northwest corner of Genesee and Jordan Streets; it was originally known as the Indian Queen Hotel, and also as the Houndayaga House. For many years, its ballroom was the only public hall in the village. It was destroyed by fire on July 19, 1870. The “Bro. Fay” referred to was Massilon W. Fay, the hotel’s landlord.
“Passed down and around the foot of the lake, and through the village of Skaneateles; the main street very broad; the dwelling homes and public buildings ornamented; variously formed, exhibiting a variety of taste; painted white; the ends of the buildings set to the street; ornamented with green shrubbery. We passed up on the other side of the lake. In my opinion, such a beautiful scene is seldom to be found; the smooth, clear lake, without any marshy ground, and the moderately elevated and fertile ascent from the water’s edge abounding with a variety of fruit trees and evergreens, with very splendid country seats, might delight a mind at liberty to muse and feast upon the glories of this world, that must soon fade away; but I did not feel at liberty to indulge therein…”
– “Memoranda of William Kennard” from July 1841, printed in The Friend: A Religious and Literary Journal (1893). Kennard was a Quaker from Ohio who was “set at liberty” to visit Society of Friends meetings in New York in 1841.
This from a Chicago, Illinois, weekly, The Radical Review, in 1883:
“We don’t know what has become of the ‘pastor’ of the Third Presbyterian Church, whether he has gone off to fight the Saracen, or to bathe in the salt sea. No doubt he is having a good, pious time of it somewhere… but our pity goes out to his congregation, doomed, in the heat of last Sunday, to listen to a man from Skaneateles, New York, who bored them to sleep with the Ten Commandments.
“Of course it would be unreasonable to expect much from any place with such a barbaric name as Skaneateles, and we didn’t get much, although the Rev. M. N. Preston preached some good morals from the text…
“The Third Presbyterian is a fashionable congregation, and it is to be regretted that the brethren had fallen asleep… for it was about time that somebody came along to inform them that the Ten Commandments are not, as they have been accustomed to believe, ‘too coarse for refined people.’ He rather admitted that the commands against murder, theft and adultery were intended for ‘those in the slums of society,’ but at the same time he didn’t consider it ‘an insult to pronounce them’ even before ‘refined people.’
“That sort of religion may do very well for the barbarians of Skaneateles, but it will act like a soporific on the ‘refined’ worshippers at the Third Presbyterian Church of Chicago. They need the soft-cushioned and silver-plated article. Mr. Preston drew a good moral from the Ten Commandments, one that even infidels will approve; the great lesson of human charity was well presented, and the best sermon last Sunday in Chicago came from the Indian village of Skaneateles.”
The Rev. Marcus N. Preston was pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Skaneateles from October 1862 to November 1884. His visit to Chicago was chronicled by M. M. Trumbull in his column, “The Pulpit,” in The Radical Review, August 25, 1883.
“The Skaneateles, N.Y., Columbian, of August 12th, speaks of a trout which was caught in Skaneateles Lake on the Monday previous, and which weighed 20 pounds. Capt. J. Randall was the successful fisherman…
“We have many a time, in former days, trolled for trout in Skaneateles Lake, but with no very great success. These finny exquisites were then few and far between. Or perhaps our bait, which was a clean piece of pork neatly rounded to the hook, was not the desirable thing.
“It was generally used, however, in Skaneateles, yea, even by one old fisherman who lived on the eastern shore of the lake, and who could furnish you with trout at any time you desired, in three hours notice.
“How he obtained them was with many persons a mystery. Some were disposed to endow him with superhuman powers; indeed, one or two over credulous and over-superstitious people in his neighborhood declared that he was aided by the evil one, they having many a time seen him in his boat accompanied by a very unpleasant looking object with a tail!”
– From “The Editor’s Chatter-Box” in Bizarre, for Fireside and Wayside, Collected by J. M. Church (Philadelphia) 1852
“The elements are hard to avoid, particularly in my hometown of Skaneateles, New York, located on the northern tip of the lake of the same name. It buckles under the same snowbelt that Syracuse has immortalized… It isn’t until the New Year that winter truly begins to weed out the weak. Alberta Clippers and lake-effect blizzards are sensational, but it’s the relentlessness of the most miserable of seasons that breaks people. Marriages dissolve, friendships collapse, businesses fail. Many just sit in their homes and drink until it becomes possible to open the door again… In January even mercury heads south to huddle in the little ball at the bottom of the thermometer. At this point winter becomes sarcastic. When it warms up, it snows… Cynicism peaks in February, when it feels as if it has been winter since you were a small child.”
– Barry Crimmins in Never Shake Hands with a War Criminal (2004)
