Thankfully, they make better jails today than in the really old days. It is much more difficult to escape them now than back in the early 19th century.

Going to jail in Norwich was almost a joke at times in the early 1800s. Chenango County’s courthouse and jail were in a wooden structure. Inmates would start fires, and that meant they had to be released or they’d burn to death. Upon returning the inmates to their cells, there were normally several missing, never to be seen again.

Local citizens and lawmakers decided there had to be better facilities to prevent further jailbreaks. The old jail was built by 1809, when Chenango County was established and Norwich became the county seat. By about 1830, it was decided a stone jail would be better, and the project was completed by 1831 at a total cost of $200. It was a separate building, just a bit north of the courthouse. The Board of Supervisors acquired additional land for it from Peter Garnsey (later called Guernsey) in 1825.

Following the construction of the new jail, public sentiment grew in favor of replacing the wood frame courthouse. It was located on the site of the present courthouse. However there was a bit of a battle to get the new courthouse placed in Norwich.

Citizens of Oxford had heard plenty about all the jailbreaks in Norwich. Before the construction of the new stone jail, Oxford quietly attempted to get their village designated as the county seat, to become the home of the new courthouse.

Little did Norwich know their village had never been officially designated as the Chenango County seat. The quiet effort didn’t stay quiet for long, as Oxford competed for the designation.

Oxford had a good argument for becoming the county seat. They were equidistant from the geographical center of the county as Norwich was.

Soon the whole county was in on the contest, with northern towns siding with Norwich, and southern towns standing beside Oxford.

Oxford representatives went to Albany to lobby the state Legislature to give their village the county seat. Norwich countered with it contingency.

Oxford sweetened the pot, promising that if it were chosen, its citizens would erect all necessary buildings at their private expense.

The lobbying reached fevered pitch in January 1837.

Oxford added that with the construction of the new Chenango Canal, it was just as viable as Norwich to become the county seat.

The state Legislature decided on March 24, 1837, that a new courthouse would be built in Norwich. Since Norwich had the necessary land, and that the first courthouse had been built there, it should remain in the village.

Word got back to Norwich, and plans for a celebration were made. It included a big parade. Writers of local history hinted that even Oxford people joined in on the fun.

Chenango County initially appropriated $7,000 for the new courthouse.

But before completion, more was required, and the final cost came to $16,000. Its Greek Revival style reflected the trends of the day and the prosperity once the Chenango Canal was completed.

For years, "Lady Justice" stood at the top of the courthouse with the scales of justice balanced and held high in her hand.

This woodcarving took the brunt of our region’s weather. But by 1976, when the courthouse was undergoing some restorations, "Lady Justice" was taken down and restored.

Plastic replicas were made, and one now stands on top of the building. The original woodcarving is well-protected indoors, on the main floor of the courthouse.

The possibility of Norwich not being the county seat wasn’t just an issue in the 1830s. In 1946, the Board of Supervisors was considering a new courthouse in addition to a county office building.

There were plans to demolish the 1837 courthouse.

Once again, Oxford stepped forward and showed the Board of Supervisors a few sites available. A farmer from Preston offered his farm for the site. North Norwich was considered. The Chenango County Historical Society made plans to block the demolition.

Nothing ever came out of the 1946 discussions. A new county office complex was eventually built, but the old courthouse remains in the same place today.

On Monday: We’ll look back at the many bridges over the Susquehanna on Oneonta’s Main Street.

City Historian Mark Simonson’s column appears twice weekly. On Saturdays, his column focuses on the area during the Depression and before. His Monday columns address local history after the Depression. If you have feedback or ideas about the column, write to him at The Daily Star, or e-mail him at simmark@stny.rr.com. His website is www.oneontahistorian.com.