I have been interested in sawmills and gristmills for many years. Since we have been spending time in western New York State, I have learned that there is an operating (occasionally) grist mill in Busti, New York, not far from our house at Chautauqua. The Busti Historical Society maintains it and actually grinds grain in it once a month during the late Spring, Summer, and early Fall months for the benefit of historical buffs like me. This Fall it was convenient for us to visit it the last Saturday of September, which coincided with the Society’s annual Apple Festival.
Elizabeth and I set out at midday to visit the mill, and, coincidentally, the Festival. Instead of taking the normal route along the west side of Chautauqua Lake, we elected to do some sight-seeing via country roads. After several false detours due to my erratic navigation which took us through hamlets named Blockville and Watts Flats, we eventually found ourselves approaching the town center of the Town of Busti. In New York the term “town” is comparable to “township” in Pennsylvania. The town center is actually a major cross-roads where five highways intersect. One of them, appropriately named Mill Road, leads to the headquarters of the Busti Historical Society, a cluster of buildings including the Busti grist mill, an historical museum, a restored miller’s residence, and a demonstration Hall.
Signs for “Apple Festival Free Parking” directed us to a large parking area, filled with cars and festival-goers. Respecting my mobility limitations, Beth drove through the lot to an entrance to the festival grounds, pleaded my case, and found me a place to sit while she parked the car. The Festival was certainly successful, well over 150 crafts vendors and a very large number of attendees. We elected to resist the temptation to investigate booths selling home-made jewelry, wooden lawn sculptures, etc., and proceeded to our intended destination, the afore-mentioned mill.
The restored mill is located on the site of a mill constructed in 1838 by an early entrepreneur named Heman Bush. Adjacent to Stillwater Creek, the mill was powered by hydraulic turbines charged by water from a milldam with a head of eight feet. One turbine drove a vertical shaft which turned a massive millstone (four feet in diameter and eight inches thick) suspended a small distance above a stationary millstone. Both stones had radial grooves that held the grain; the scissors action of the moving stone separated the meal (flour) from the chaff (shell) and transported both to the periphery, where they were collected. The next step was to run the mixture over a vibrating screen where they were separated. The current facility replicates this process with authentic equipment, except for replacing the turbine with an electric motor. In the original mill the grain was delivered to bins in the basement of the building, then elevated to the third floor, then gravity fed to the center of the upper millstone. Today it is hand-fed into a hopper directly above that point.
In addition to the impressive operating millstones, the building is filled with relevant artifacts. On display is an ancient remnant of an elevator, a continuous leather belt with small metal buckets attached to it. A modern version of it currently transports the meal and chaff produced by the millstones up to the second floor. The docents also were demonstrating several smaller versions of mills, including one with vertical millstones. A particularly interesting machine was a corn sheller. The operator fed cobs with dried kernels into the top and removed shelled corn and empty cobs from the bottom. I remember operating a simpler version of this on one of my visits to the Oyler homestead, as part of feeding the chickens.
The flour produced by the operating mills – whole wheat, corn, buckwheat, and rye – was for sale ($5.00 for two pounds). I bought a bag of whole wheat flour and am looking forward to trying it out the next time I bake a batch of my award-winning high fiber, low fat honey cranberry muffins. Elizabeth bought a bag of buckwheat and rewarded me with buckwheat pancakes the next morning. All told, our visit to the mill was quite rewarding. In addition to the excellent variety of tools, implements, and operating equipment it contained, everything was well documented in a user-friendly fashion. The volunteers at the mill were unusually friendly and cooperative.
By now I was tired and a wee bit queasy. Beth quickly provided me with a place to sit, a bottle of water, and freshly made doughnuts, and then set out to determine if she could find a way to get her car closer to me. A few minutes later she returned with the information that a volunteer with a golf cart was enroute to deliver me to her car. When I began to thank the driver for his help, I learned that he was no low level volunteer; he was President of the Board of Directors of the Busti Historical Society! In that short ride I learned a lot about his (very successful) organization. With leadership like that, it’s no wonder the Society is exemplified by courtesy and sincere helpfulness.
The drive back was another exploration of back roads through the metropolises of Panama, North Clymer, and Sherman. Part of this was through a lovely region of Amish farms. Beth spotted an Amish farmer with a team of four horses pulling a large piece of modern agricultural machinery. Near Sherman we made two stops to locate the old right-of-way of the Buffalo Division of the Pennsylvania Railroad, the Division for which my father was responsible in the early 1930s. Part of it is now a Rails-to-Trails hiking trail; the rest is still relatively easy to identify. This was a delightful way for this nonagenarian to spend a gorgeous Fall afternoon. I am grateful to Beth for making it possible and for putting up with my frailities.