Against All Odds – Building Albany’s Free Black Community the Early 1800s

The article below tells the story of the establishment of a free Black community in Albany, New York. The Albany African Society, lead by a Black Revolutionary War soldier, Benjamin Lattimore Sr., who could neither read or write, his teenage son, Benjamin Lattimore Jr. and about a dozen other free Black men built a school and a church in the city’s South End in 1812. It was a remarkable feat, and there appears to have been nowhere else in the new nation where free people of color managed to succeed at such an endeavor.

This story has never been told before, and I could not have done the research without the help of these women Jessica Fisher Neidl – Museum Editor, New York State Museum; Maura Cavanaugh – Archivist, Albany Hall of Records; Dr. Jennifer Thompson Burns – Dept. of Africana Studies, University at Albany: Lorie Wies – Librarian Saratoga Springs Public Library; Paula Lemire -Historian, Albany Rural Cemetery.

It builds on work by Stefan Bielinski (New York State Education Dept.) and an independent historian, John Wolcott.

Albany at the turn of the 19th Century

Despite what must have seemed almost insurmountable obstacles free African Americans in the city of Albany established what would become a thriving community in the first two decades of the 1800s. This was during the time in New York State when slavery was legal, and there were still over 250 enslaved people in the city. Similar activities were going on in other Northern cities – Boston, New York City and Philadelphia which had much larger populations of free people, and slavery was no longer as entrenched as it was in Albany. Slavery was not only an economic proposition for what was still mostly Dutch Albany – it had become almost a cultural tradition.

The first Federal census of 1790 begins to tells part of the history. Albany had a population just shy of 3,500. An astonishing 16% (572) of that population was enslaved, compared to the 6.3% across all of New York State. Only 26 free persons of color were counted in the city .

Slavery in Albany

Many people think of slavery as just something that happened in the South, but it was very much a northern institution, especially in Albany. Descendants of old Dutch settler families were reluctant to abandon slavery into the early part of the 1800s.

The first enslaved men from Angola were brought to Fort Orange (Albany) in 1626, only 2 years after it was first settled. They were the property of the Dutch West India Company, owner of the New Netherland Colony. The practice of enslavement continued. In 1657 when Peter Stuyvesant, the Governor of the Colony, requested more settlers from the Company the directors told him to acquire more enslaved people to meet the demand for labor.

After the British took over the Colony in the 1660s the slave trade increased exponentially. The English began developing more stringent rules than the Dutch governing the enslaved; forbidding gatherings of Africans, limits on travel, etc. Slavery continued in New York State until the Revolutionary War and beyond. The number of enslaved people in the State actually increased after the War, as did the number of individuals who owned enslaved people.

Slavery was the economic engine of New York State in the 1700s. Enslaved people were valuable capital and personal property. As chattel they were bought, sold and inherited – like the family silver. Families were separated; husbands from wives and their families; mothers from children. Women had no agency over their bodies. By the 1850 Albany census, more often than not you can find the word “mulatto” (not Black) next to the names of persons of color -the legacy of unwilling unions.

Free People of Color in Albany

Conditions began to change to slowly. In 1799, under Governor John Jay (founder of the New York State Manumission Society) the New York State Legislature enacted the ‘Gradual Abolition Act”. The Act required that all children born to enslaved women be freed, but far into the future. Males would be freed when they reached 28 years of age; females age 25. Practically speaking there was no real impact of the legislation. Children could still be separated from their mothers – sold or rented out. But the Act did serve as a catalyst for some owners to free those they enslaved. (But not John Jay. While serving as governor and living on State St. in Albany he owned five enslaved people.)

Finally, by the 1810 federal census the number of enslaved people in Albany was reduced by half, to 251. By then the city’s population had tripled to 10,762. Albany was moving from a sleepy, very Dutch frontier town to a thriving and vibrant metropolis. It was the 10th largest city in United States. The number of free people of color had grown to 501, an increase of 1800% in 20 years. For the first time Albany’s free African population outnumbered the enslaved population.

But it was a confusing time and must have been difficult to navigate for free people of color. Some enslaved people were freed outright. Some members of families were freed, while others remained enslaved. Often owners required that those they enslaved purchase their freedom or the freedom of their family members. White households in the 1810 census often included both free people of color and enslaved people. Different owners had often owned different family members; some were freed, but others not. Intact free family units with parents and all the children were a rarity. Albany census data identifies a number of female-headed Black households; women and children who had been manumitted. One of these women Silva (Sylvia), had been enslaved by Philip Schuyler. On his death in 1804 his executors freed her and her three children – she spent the rest of her years in Albany earning her living as a fortune teller.

Some people were freed, but with conditions. One Albany woman was required to return to her previous owner every Spring to help with house cleaning. Archival records identify promises to free enslaved people upon the death of the owner. Other records indicate the sale of an enslaved person for a period of time (e.g., five or seven years) with a promise of freedom at the end of that term.

Some Black families spent years trying to acquire freedom for all family members, often scattered across New York State. Manumission records preserved in the Albany County Archives are often are heart-breaking, as are newspaper ads that continued to announce “Negro” men, women (mostly referred to as “wenches”) and children for sale.

And yet the free African American community in Albany continued to push forward.

Albany’s population began to grow after it was selected as the capital of New York State in 1797. It increased exponentially after Robert Fulton sailed his steamboat up the Hudson River from New York City. A number of turnpikes were built improving access to all areas of the New York State from Albany. The city became a transportation hub of the Northeast. Free Black, as well as white, migration into the city followed.

Free people of color found employment on the waterfront, and as laborers building much needed new housing stock as the city grew to accommodate the population spike. Many worked in livery stables serving the multiple stagecoach lines that ran from Albany to all points. Others worked as waiters, cooks and laundresses for the hotels, taverns, inns and porterhouses that sprang up to serve travelers coming through by stage and new steamboat lines. A few were skilled artisans– barbers, a blacksmith, a shoemaker. Albany (unlike New York City) licensed Black men as cartmen (think truck drivers today) and city sweeps.

A Growing Black Middle Class

A free Black community began to emerge, probably comprised of about 50-60 households. There were even a number of Black property owners.

They began to create their own institutions to meet their needs as had the much larger free Black communities in New York City, Boston, and Philadelphia. These Black Albanians understood the need to create their own social and religious spaces apart from the white community.

The Albany African Society

A small group of men came forward to take on this task, establishing the Albany African Society, possibly as early as 1807, but clearly by 1811.

The Albany Society was modeled on the New York City African Society for Mutual Relief, founded in 1806. The group pooled funds among members to help with burial costs and aid widows and children. But the Albany Society had broader goals. In addition to mutual relief, it focused on the establishment of an African School and an African church. Members of the Black community understood the critical need to provide an education for their children.

Albany’s African Society was contemplating something that would take an heroic effort. Although the number of free Blacks in Albany was much smaller than the free Black populations in the cities of Boston and New York, they were determined to create their own Black identity and culture.

Ben Lattimore Sr. emerged as the leader of the Society. In 1811 Lattimore was about 50, the father of a teenage son, Benjamin Jr., from a first marriage. There were also 3 young children – William – age 7; Betsey – age 6, and Mary – age 4 from his second marriage in 1803 to a local woman named Dinah. She had been enslaved by a well-respected Albany doctor, Wilhelm Mancius. We know little about the marriage; it’s quite possible Lattimore bought Dinah’s freedom.

Lattimore was born free in Weathersfield, CT. and grew up in Ulster County, where his father Benoni owned Lattimore’s Ferry across the Hudson River at the southern end of the county. He was a Revolutionary War veteran; enlisted when he was about 17 years old, and served 4 years in the Continental Army. At one point he had been taken prisoner by the British, but managed to escape back to American lines. He arrived in Albany from Poughkeepsie with his young son around 1794. It’s probable he came to Albany (which he would have known from his War service), where he had a kinsman for a fresh start and greater opportunity.

By 1798 he purchased property at 9 Plain St., off South Pearl St. (then known as Washington St.) close to State St. for which he paid £170. (This was at a time when the average income for a worker was about £60.) In 1799 he became a member of the Presbyterian Church which appears to have been more inclined to welcome Black congregants than other churches in the Albany. It was the church that was most often attended by the white middle class of shopkeepers and skilled workers, and newcomers to the city.

In 1811 Lattimore was a cartman licensed by the city. The Albany County Hall of Records has a copy of a bill paid to him for services rendered by the City in the amount of $14.80 (about $300 in today’s money).

The role of cartmen was critical to commerce and the life of the city. They were the only individuals permitted to move goods through the streets. Everyone, Black and white, knew the cartmen. Only they could move your “stuff”, whether a featherbed or cargo from a newly docked ship. A responsible cartman, who didn’t price gouge, and delivered your goods in a timely manner, undamaged, after having navigated steep Albany hills and three large creeks (the Beaverkill, the Ruttenkill and the Foxenkill) was a man who was well-known and well-respected by both the Black and white community.

The 1815 city directory and subsequent directories include the names of cartmen (and their cartman number) along with other important city officials. Their inclusion is a clear indication of the importance of the cartmen in the eyes of city government and the public at large.

Little else is known about Lattimore who would become the driving force in Albany’s Black community for three more decades, except for several scraps gleaned from old documents. In an 1820 court deposition attesting to his free status Lattimore was described as “tall, thin and spare, with a light complexion and hazel eyes”. If he looked anything like his son (we’ve seen a picture of him at about that age), he had kind and intelligent eyes, with a bit of twinkle and a wry smile. The same deposition describes Lattimore as a man of “irreproachable character of integrity and uprightness.”

In 1811 Lattimore purchased a lot from Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, the daughter of General Philip Schuyler and widow of Alexander Hamilton for $400. It was her inheritance portion of the General’s estate, part of the farmland that had surrounded the family Mansion. The property was narrow (34 ft.) and long (135 ft.), located on Malcolm St. (now Broad St.), and ran through to Washington St. (now South Pearl St.)

Not only did Mrs. Hamilton sell a parcel of land to Ben Lattimore, Sr, but there were two other Black buyers. Prince Schermerhorn and Capt. Francs March purchased property from Mrs. Hamilton the same day as Ben Lattimore Sr.

Obtaining an education for his children was probably of upmost importance for Lattimore. Five documents survive ((a deed, cartman’s bill, his deposition as a free man, pension application and will) survive. Only one ( his pension application) bears his signature; the rest have only his “mark”. We conclude he was illiterate and must have thought it was critical that his children possess the ability to read and write. (It probable that his oldest son Ben Jr. learned how to read and write from a Mrs. Jones who owned a small school on Plain St. near the Lattimore home in the early 1800s.)

Prince Schermerhorn was the son of a white landowner, Samuel Schermerhorn, from a prominent old Dutch Settler family in Kinderhook, Columbia County. An attestation in Albany court in 1821 indicates “he was born free and never has been a slave”.

Capt. Francis March was in his late 30s in 1810. He had been a free man for at least 20 years in 1811 (based on the 1790 census), and previously lived in the town of Watervliet (north of the Albany city limit) with his wife Cornelia. In multiple city directories he’s listed as living at 217 South Pearl St. (the property he purchased from Mrs. Hamilton), and identified as a skipper.

Capt. Samuel Schuyler was also in his 30s, and lived at on South Pearl St., at number 204, which he purchased in 1809, possibly from an earlier sale by Mrs. Hamilton. (The last of the Albany land she appears to have inherited- 32 lots – was sold at auction in 1814.) Schuyler had only recently been freed by Dirck Schuyler (presumed to be his white father) in 1805.

Sam Schuyler Manumission 1805

Manumission records indicate he purchased his freedom for $200. Schuyler would go on to become a well-known Hudson River ship captain, and owner of other property in Albany. Schuyler married in 1805 immediately after his manumission and had three children by 1811. Schuyler also owned land on Bassett St. close to River docks. Schuyler and Francis March were the best of friends, and lived in the same block of South Pearl St. between Westerlo St. and South Ferry St. for decades. Schuyler’s first child was named Richard March Schuyler in honor of Francis March.

Thomas Lattimore is presumed to be a relative (perhaps a cousin) of Benjamin Lattimore. He married a local free Albany woman, Margaret Foot, and they were both received members of the Presbyterian Church. He appears to have been the owner of property on Albany’s Pine St. in the early 1800s (based on tax assessment record). In 1811 Thomas had two sons, John Hodge (age 11) and Robert (age 9), both baptized in the Presbyterian Church. It is quite possible he worked as a stone cutter for John Hodge (after whom Thomas named his first son), originally from New Marlboro, in Ulster County, where Benjamin Lattimore grew up. John Hodge was an elder in the Presbyterian Church.

Francis Jacobs was born free in Brooklyn in 1758. He was a Revolutionary War veteran, but one who served in a remarkable capacity. In late 1777 he joined the military household of General Washington as a waiter and sometimes scout; he served in the General until at least 1783. Upon his separation from Washington’s service the General provided Jacobs with a hand-written letter of recommendation.

In the 1813 Albany directory Jacobs was identified as living at 24 North Pearl St. as a “sweep master”. (A newspaper ad in the same year also identifies Jacobs as a dealer in second hand clothing.) We know little else about Jacobs except that he too was in his early 50’s and probably had 5 children. (In later years he moved to Waterford where he was a lock keeper for the Erie Canal.)

Thomas Elcock (also known as Olcott, Ellicott, Alcock, Allicott, Ollicott, etc.) was age 42 in 1811. The first city directory in 1813 identified Ellicock living at 39 Columbia St., The 1815 directory identified him as a cartman, the same occupation as Benjamin Lattimore Sr, Elcock had been one of many people enslaved by the wealthy merchant Abraham Lansing, from one of the most important old Dutch Albany families. He was freed in 1804 by Lansing, but it is thought that the rest of his family – wife and children – were owned by Stephen Lush, Lansing’s wealthy neighbor. (Coincidently, Lush served with Benjamin Lattimore at Fort Montgomery during the Revolutionary War, and both were taken prisoner by the British.) It’s probable Elcock purchased the freedom of his wife and most of children between 1806 and 1810. Manumission records indicate that Elcock finally bought the freedom of his 18-year-old son Thomas Jr. from Stephen Lush in 1818 for $130.

Richard Landerson was 24 in 1811. He was freed in 1810 by Ephraim Starr, a wealthy attorney who moved to Albany from Connecticut several years prior. Manumission records indicate his freedom was based on an agreement with Starr in May, 1808. Landerson was to pay Starr $200 with interest for the term of four years and was not to “loose any time in the afore-mentioned term of four years, but shall labor and do his duty faithfully and for such persons and in such places as they can mutually agree”. Landerson agreed to behave with “prudence and propriety”, and to allow Starr his “wages, unless for clothes, to an amount not exceeding $40 per year”, and to pay him $200 with interest as much sooner than four years as possible. Landerson fulfilled his end of the bargain in 27 months and was freed in August, 1810. In 1813 he was living on Lutheran St., which was located on the west side of South Pearl St. up the hill.

Samuel Edge was a shoemaker on Chapel St. (1815 city directory) who had been born enslaved in St. Croix in the Virgin Islands in 1790. In 1811 he was about 22 years old.

John Edwards was born in Boston. In an 1819 court deposition regarding his status he stated he had been free since the mid-1790s. Edwards was a well-known barber on Green St. who advertised his services in the local newspaper (something rarely done by Black men). In his deposition he is described as 5’ 9” with a dark complexion.

Baltus Hugemon (aka Hugenor,Hugener, Hugoner) carried the name of a well-known old Dutch settler family from New York City, Albany and the Hudson Valley in which he or members of his family were probably enslaved at some point. He appears to have been a member of a family that had been free people of color for some time. There are several free Blacks with that surname in the early part of 19th century in Albany, including a Dina Hogener identified as a property owner in the 1805 tax assessment. Hugemon was listed as a property owner in the 1801 Albany tax assessment. He’s identified in the 1817 city directory as living in the Arbor Hill section of the city.

John Williams was probably a barber. In an 1811 court deposition in which he certified his status he stated he was 36 years old and had been born free. It’s possible that he was married to Catherine, granddaughter of Dinah Jackson. (A John Williams is identified in Dinah Jackson’s 1818 will.) Dinah, who lived on Maiden Lane, was one of the earliest known Black property owners in the city in 1779.

Little is known about John Depeyster. But like much of the Black population in Albany at the time with Huguenot and Dutch surnames, his family was quite likely enslaved by one of the old Albany settler families at some point. The DePeysters were a large and extensive family who intermarried with the Van Cortlandts, Livingstons and Schuylers, and owned large swaths of property from New York City, up through the Hudson Valley to Albany.

Richard Thompson owned a grocery store at 22 Fox St. (i815 city directory). It’s probable that Peggy Thompson, a free woman of color who joined the Presbyterian Church in 1807, was his wife. They had a son, Richard Jr. who was probably about 5 years old in 1811.

The Common Council Gets Involved

Varying attitudes of the white community contributed to the need for Africans in Albany to navigate that world carefully. The actions of the Albany Common Council at this time make this very clear. There was no way for the Black community to predict what it would allow for the “colored” residents of the city,. For example, unlike New York City’s municipal government, Albany permitted Black men to be licensed cartmen, a profession that allowed them to accumulate wealth. But there were other decisions by the Council that demonstrate endemic racism.

It appears that establishment of an African School was on the minds of both Black and white citizens of Albany for some time. In the Albany County Hall of Records there is a fragment of an 1810 letter (unknown author) addressed to the Albany Common Council. The letter references the intent of the Black community dating back to 1807 to establish a school, and scolds the Common Council for failing to provide assistance in this endeavor.

The minutes of the Common Council reveal the true thinking of many of the members of the Council. At some point, probably in Fall, 1811, the Albany Common Council received a petition from Benjamin Lattimore Sr. and other officers of the Society requesting the city allocate a lot to build a church and school house.

On December 9, 1811 the Land Committee of the Council submitted a report recommending “… that a deed be executed for that purpose for a lot on the west side of Elk Street west of the public square of sufficient size to answer the objects contemplated by the petitioners, and that until the said Society is incorporated the deed be executed to James Van Ingen Esq. as trustee for the said petitioners who agree to accept the same as such. The Committee are however of the opinion that a covenant be inserted in the said deed that the said lot shall revert back to the corporation whenever the same shall be appropriated to any other use than that set forth in the said petition.” That recommendation was approved by the Council.

(James Van Ingen was the attorney who acted on behalf of Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton when she sold land to Lattimore, Sr., Schermerhorn and March earlier that year. And yet in those paradoxical times Van Ingen is identified as owning two enslaved persons in the 1810 census.)

But barely two months later the Common Council rejected the report of the Land Committee and revoked the deal. On February 3, 1812 the Council minutes read, “Resolved that the resolution of the 9th of December last approving of a report of the Land Committee granting a lot of land for certain Africans and people of Color for religious purposes be revoked and that the said report of the Land Committee be rejected.” No explanation for this action is found in surviving Council documents or newspapers.

Summary Albany Hall of Records Albany Common Council Minutes

Perseverance

The revocation of the land grant must have been a shock to the Society. But they persevered, and came up with another plan. Benjamin Lattimore was by now a force to be reckoned with. He sold the property he purchased from Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton in April, 1811 to his son, Benjamin Lattimore Jr. for $400, the amount he had paid for the property, In June 1812, Benjamin Jr. then sold the land to a group of eight men who were trustees of the African Society. Lattimore Jr. held the mortgage.

Financing the School and the Church.

Then the African Society went about raising money for the school and the church. Within six months, on December 10, 1812, there appeared an announcement in the Albany Gazette to the citizens of Albany from the Trustees of the African Society on progress to date. The announcement was signed by “Benjamin Lattimore, Francis Jacobs, Thomas Alcock, Richard Landerson & others”.

It’s a statement of the status and accounting of the Society’s fundraising for the school and church. A total of $915 had been raised. While 14% of the funding appears to have been provided by the trustees and other members of the Society, an astonishing 86% (over $700) had been contributed by the citizens of Albany. Most of the funding came from the white community. Another Albany paradox.

That was a lot of money, from a city in which there were probably 200 individuals still enslaved. But it speaks to the growing dichotomy in Albany. “Yankees” had come flooding in from Massachusetts (where slavery had ended before 1790) and other New England states. Some religious denominations were slowly and tentatively pushing towards total abolition of slavery. There was also a growing understanding about the need for education of Black children and adults, if only as a “public good”, benefitting the entire community.

The funding of an African school in Albany by the white community is remarkable. We can find no other instance in which the charitable impulses of a city were harnessed in this way for the benefit of its Black population. And it leaves us wondering about the relationships between the Trustees of the African Society and members of the white community. Were there several large donors among the wealthy of Albany? Did money come from churches? How many individual donors contributed? It’s likely we may never know the answers.

The announcement read:

“The subscribers, being trustees of said society, on behalf of the same, return their most grateful thanks to the benevolent subscribers who have sided with us in this laudable undertaking, for the unfortunate Africans and their descendants. We feel a pleasure in the assistance given by the liberal donations bestowed upon us, and will ever be thankful for the same”. It further indicated that most of the necessary funds for the building had been raised, and that the Society was making good progress, although there were some debts remaining, mostly for the land cost.

Ten months later in October,1813 there was another newspaper ad (signed by Benjamin Lattimore, John Edwards and Richard Landerson) addressing “People of Coulour” . It announced that two sermons would be preached by the Rev. Mr. Lake from Schenectady in the Albany African Church on Sunday October 31, 1813.

By December, 1813 an advertisement was placed in the Albany Register by the same men (Lattimore, Edwards and Landerson) seeking a schoolmaster to teach in the African School in Albany. It stated, “Any person who can come well recommended will find immediate and constant employment”.

School Incorporation by New York State Legislature

Nothing more is heard about the school until New York State legislation was enacted on April 12, 1816 permitting incorporation of the school. The bill was introduced in the New York Senate by Federalist Abraham Van Vechten who had previously been New York State Attorney General. (During that time one of his clerks had been a young man of Jewish and African heritage. Moses Simon, the first Black graduate of Yale Law School.)

The legislation identified Thomas Latimore (sic), Francis Jacobs, Thomas Elcock (sic), Samuel Edge, Baltus Hagemon, and John Williams, free people of color, as petitioners for New York State approval of the incorporation of a school for people of color in Albany. The legislation stated, “.. they have been enabled chiefly by the liberality of the citizens of Albany, to purchase a lot of ground in the city of Albany, and to erect a building therein, for a school house, to give people of color and their children the advantage of education, and have prayed, that for the better management of their property, and regulation of their school, an act might be passed to incorporate them, and to vest in the said lot and building in the corporation to be created ..” (Reading between the lines it appears that the management of the school had not gone smoothly, probably for lack of resources, and there was the hope that formal New York State recognition might facilitate the Society’s ability to continue to raise funds.)

The legislation further indicated that the men identified above (Latimore, Jacobs, Elcock, Edwards, Hagemon and Williams) were to be incorporated for the purpose of education of people of color and their children as the “Albany School for Educating People of Color”( as long as the real and personal estate income of the corporation did not exceed $1,000 annually).

The trustees of the school are identified in the statute aas Benjamin Latimore Sr., Francis Jacobs, Thomas Elcock, Samuel Edge, Baltus Hagemon, John Williams and Richard Thompson.

Formal School Opening

On July 19, 1816 the Albany Daily Advertiser published an announcement by the Albany African Society (for religious worship and for the instruction of their children). It stated that its church and school house (“… in the south bounds of the city near the mansion of the late Gen. Schuyler…”) was ready for public worship and receiving scholars.

“It will be opened on Thursday evening July 25 at six o’clock in the evening with a sermon suitable for the occasion by Rev. John McDonald.” (McDonald was the pastor of the United Presbyterian Church in Albany: In 1816 he was one of the four chaplains of the New York State Legislature.) It went on to say that a sermon would be delivered every quarter by a different clergyman in the city. Further it stated that the” law of incorporation of the society, lately granted by the legislature of the state” would be read.

And so, against all odds the African residents of Albany established a school formally recognized by New York State government.

The Continuation of the African Society

Scant evidence of the Albany African Society exists beyond the establishment of the school and the church in this time period. But what can be found makes it clear the Society continued working towards support of the Black community. In 1818 Ben Lattimore placed an announcement in the Albany Gazette in his capacity as Chairman of the Committee of the Albany funeral association of colored people. It referenced the “necessity of appointing some person of color as sexton”.. (At that time the sexton would have been the individual who was responsible for digging and maintaining graves.) He directed all persons to call upon Francis Pile, 45 Liberty St. (identified in city directory as a “waterman”) as the sexton or Tobias Nelson, assistant sexton, (a laborer who lived on Fox St. (Possibly “Bos Nelson” freed by John Pruyn in 1812. )

The need for “colored” sextons stemmed from an earlier decision by the Albany Council about burial of Blacks in the city. Around 1800 the Council established a large section of land on what was then the west edge of the populated portion of Albany as the city burial ground (known today as the State Street Burial Ground – Washington Park replaced the Burial Ground), The land was allocated among the various religious denominations in the city, and one parcel set aside for Africans. But over time the section that had been allocated for Africans turned out to be a prime location in the Burial Ground. In 1811 the Council rescinded the designation of the African lot, and allocated another less desirable section for their lot. This new designation required exhumations and reinternments in the new African section. The Council also decided that this task could only be performed by Black men

The Next Chapter

Slowly, life would improve for the Black community in Albany. In 1817 the New York State legislature would enact a law that would require the abolition of slavery in New York State for all enslaved people born in New York State on July 4, 1827. The end was near. And yet in the 1820 census there remained 108 enslaved people in the city of Albany.

The African School appears to have been successful. A small article appeared in the December, 1818 Albany Gazette. The writer had attended a quarterly exhibition of pupil performance at the South Pearl St. school .school. He indicated there had been a marked improvement since the previous exhibition. He wrote: “I congratulate my fellow citizens that they have such a school, and such a teacher in this place where children of colour are rescued from the abodes of infamy, ignorance and vice, and are instructed in the necessary branches of education and the Christian religion.”

Other schools for African children and adults in the city had been stablished. One was Sunday school opened by Mr. and Mrs. George Upfold and Mrs. Bocking at 3 Von Tromp St. (subsequently moved to the Uranian Hall at 67 North Pearl). Another Sunday school was established at the Presbyterian Church.

In 1819 W. Tweed Dale principal of Albany’s Lancaster School – a quasi- public school funded in part by the Common Council, established as school for African children. Dale was a Scotch immigrant and a very early radical abolitionist, and a true friend of the African population. (On his death in 1854 he left thousands of dollars to charities in Haiti, Africa and African Americans in the Mississippi Valley, to assist anti-slavery activities and to assist “fugitives” fleeing to the North.)

The Future

And so the African community in Albany had demonstrated that it could come together to create a better life and future, and begin to earn the respect of at least some of the city’s white population. Other Black men and women would come forward join with them, and continue to push for racial and social justice in Albany, and for the abolition of slavery the United States. By the 1830s Albany would become a cauldron of Black political and abolitionist activity and the a key hub of the Underground Railroad. White men and women in the community would join them.

Copyright 2022 Julie O’Connor

Seeing the Elephant – Old Bet in Early 1800s Albany

It’s Albany in 1814 and an elephant comes to town!

You’ve never seen a picture of an elephant.. you may only have read a description of an elephant, but probably not. You may never even have heard of an elephant!.

But there’s a picture of an elephant in the “Albany Argus”! WOW!

She looks nothing like anything you’ve ever seen before. .And if you can spare the money (25 cents and ½ price for kids), you can see her.

The elephant was called “Old Bet”. Bet is said to have been the 2nd African elephant brought to America*. Legend has it that a Mr. Bailey paid $1,000 for her in New York City around 1808. Bailey was a farmer from Westchester County and there is speculation whether he bought Bet for use on the farm. But soon he realized the money he could make by touring the Northeast with Bet.

We know from newspaper accounts that Bet generally spent at least part of the winter in Albany from 1813 to 1815. During her Albany stays Bet and Bailey (or his partners.. because by now he was a mogul, and had sold shares in Bet) lived at Wetmore’s Inn at the corner of Beaver and Green Streets.**

Imagine the how the neighborhood children felt about Bet. Cats, dogs, chickens are ok pets, but an elephant almost in your backyard? Totally cool. We can imagine the kids wanting to brush Bet and feed her hay and straw.. and potatoes (supposedly Bet had a thing for potatoes). And begging to climb up on her. We’re guessing Bet and Bailey made lots of friends during their winters in Albany. And a lot of money, since by now Albany was a growing.. a northeast hub .. only New York and Boston were larger. Who wouldn’t pass through Albany without looking at the elephant?

2And then spring would come and Bailey would set out on tour with Bet. (Legend has it they traveled at night, so no one would get a free peek.) But in 1816 Bet met a sad end. While she was traveling in Maine, Bet was shot and killed by a farmer (said to have been outraged that Bailey was charging money to see the Bet.) There’s a marker in Alfred, ME where Bet was killed.***

Bailey carried on with other business ventures, but he must have missed Old Bet a lot. In 1825 he opened The Elephant Hotel, with a huge statue of Old Bet. Today she’s still there and the hotel is now the town hall of Somers, NY (east of Peekskill).

*The first elephant in America was brought from India by a Salem Mass sea captain named Crowninshield in the mid-1790s. He sold it, and then for a while the trail of the elephant grows cold, until it appears in NYC in 1796. After that it appears to have traveled throughout the Northeast (perhaps Albany, we don’t know). We do know that President George Washington saw the Crowninshield elephant in Philadelphia the same year.

** At about the same time Old Bet was in Albany you could also see the “Royal Tiger of Asia” and an African ape at the corner of State and Pearl. If you waited until 8pm you could see the tiger fed 10 lbs. of meat. (Bailey is said to have been ½ owner of the tiger.)

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*** There are several legends about the location where Bet met her demise.. but since the town in Maine went to the trouble of placing a marker in honor of Bet, we’re going with that one.

Copyright 2021  Julie O’Connor

Aaron Burr Slept Here

a 14725522_1116882888359972_4854986053856491345_nThere is a family plot at the Albany Rural Cemetery perched somewhat precariously on the Middle Ridge hill just above the Ozia Hall monument and not too far from the Samuel Schuyler lot. From the path below, it appears to be just a row of granite urns facing a tall, but otherwise unassuming marble shaft. From the hill above, though, a set of old flat gravestones can be seen laid between the granite urns and the marble shaft. The shaft reads simply “The Family of The Souldens.” One of the headstones has a very simply carved hand with its index finger pointing toward heaven. Another stone is a very pleasant discovery; a plump, winged cherub’s head framed by a lozenge and flanked by daisy finials.

Lot 22, Section 61 was deeded to an Englishman named William Soulden who was interred there in 1851, just seven years after the Cemetery opened. Several of the gravestones in the lot predate the Cemetery and were likely moved here from the State Street Burying Grounds by Soulden.
Those interred in this lot include:
Sarah A. Smith, died September 7, 1825, age 88
Catherine Eliza Soulden, died February 24, 1831, age 9
William M. Soulden, died October 23, 1835, age 19
Catherine Townsend, died May 18, 1849, age 70
Ann M. Soulden, died August 9, 1849, age 32
Louisa B. Muir, died August 13, 1849, aged 32
William Soulden, died August 21, 1851, age 64
Ann M. Soulden, died November 16, 1860, age 80
The burial cards on file unfortunately provide no other details, a common occurrence with some of the older records or relocated graves.

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The family had a connection to one of Albany’s oldest and well-known buildings, a brickmansion built on Washington Street for Samuel Hill (who is buried in the Rural Cemetery’s Church Grounds section) and attributed to architect Philip Hooker (also buried in the Church Grounds). Documentation for the National Register of Historic Places gives some details:

“In 1820, the property was acquired by Sarah Smith, a widow, and her niece, Catherine Townsend and the Albany City Directories list Mrs. Sarah Smith as living in Hill’s Mansion House on Washington Street. In 1821, William Soulden is also listed as an occupant. The Townsend-Soulden family operated the large property as a boarding house, with Aaron Burr having been among their guests in 1824. When Sarah Smith died in 1825, she bequeathed the house to Catherine Townsend and William Soulden, in trust for another neice, Ann Maria, the wife of Soulden. William and Ann Soulden owned the property until 1827.”

As noted, Aaron Burr a resident at the Soulden House (also refered to as the Selden House) while looking after some legal matters two decades after shooting Alexander Hamilton in the infamous duel. Earlier in his career, Burr had a law office in Albany.e14567993_1116883601693234_3728131552865385156_n

The old Soulden House still stands on Washington Avenue and is quite familiar to many as the Fort Orange Club.

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Stay Calm and Bake Cake- Make America Cake Again! Election Cake.. an Albany Tradition?

Presidential elections in America have always been a big deal – the day for voting was merely the culmination of a “national crisis’. In 1831 Alexis de Toqueville traveled across America; upon his return to France he wrote: “A presidential election in the United States may be looked upon as a time of national crisis…” “Long before the date arrives, the election becomes everyone’s major, not to say sole, preoccupation. The ardor of the various factions intensifies, and whatever artificial passions the imagination can create in a happy and tranquil country make their presence felt. . . . As the election draws near, intrigues intensify, and agitation increases and spreads. The citizens divide into several camps, each behind its candidate. A fever grips the entire nation. The election becomes the daily grist of the public papers, the subject of private conversations, the aim of all activity.”

And when voting day arrived, it was time of celebration. Voting is a strenuous business and requires feasting and drinking. Time for cake! Election Cake!

An 1886 book says that, “Election cake was served in private homes and sold outside polling places, so it was frequently made in large batches” . “Mothers sat up all night to watch the batch of twelve or twenty loaves, or called their daughters long before cock-crowing to make investigations; nay, some were known to faint from fatigue while mixing the materials.”

The first recipe for Election Cake fittingly appears in the first uniquely American cookbook published in this country – “American Cookery” by Amelia Simmons in 1796 in Hartford, CT. The cookbook was a huge success. A follow-up edition was published the same year since “the call has been so great, and the sales [of American Cookery] so rapid that [the author] finds herself not only encouraged but under a necessity of publishing a second edition.”

This second edition, larger than the first with many additional recipes, was published by the Webster Brothers, George and Charles, of Albany. Their printing shop was on the northwest corner of State and Pearl – the “old Elm tree” corner. (A Citizen’s Bank is located there today.) It was the largest printing establishment in Albany.

The Albany edition appears to be the definitive edition because contains a statement that the person Amelia employed to prepare the first edition omitted essential recipes and included others without her consent. One of recipes omitted was Election Cake, featured prominently in the 2nd edition.

For years it was assumed that Amelia was from Connecticut (the cake recipe is often referred to as the “Hartford Election Cake”) and its genesis was the “muster cakes” prepared for the annual colonial militia musters in Connecticut. But some historians have concluded Amelia was probably from the Hudson Valley, very possibly Albany. Amelia uses the leavening agent pearl ash (a precursor to baking soda) in many of her recipes, which is derived from leaching large amounts of wood. In the late 1700s, the Albany area was a center for the production of potash, i.e., the unrefined source of the pearl ash. Additionally Amelia includes, for the first time in America, recipes for cookies. The word cookie is derived from the Dutch “koekje” – a staple in the Dutch baking. She also included the frst recipe for “slaw” koolsla – Dutch for cabbage salad. Albany Election Cake? Maybe. .

In the 1850’s ads for Election Cake can be found at Mrs. LaGrange’s Tea Cake Bakery on Steuben St. In a nod to Prohibition, the recipe for Election Cake in a 1920 Albany Evening Journal says to substitute lemon juice for booze.

Election Cake was an annual staple in this country until it fell out of fashion in the 1960s, but this year it has been re-discovered and is all the rage.Since we can make a good case for it as another Albany cake, we thought we would jump on the election year cake wagon.

ORIGINAL RECIPE FOR ELECTION CAKE – Amelia Simmons
Thirty quarts of flour
10 pound butter
14 pound sugar
12 pound raisins
3 doz eggs
one pint wine
one quart brandy
4 ounces cinnamon
4 ounces fine colander seed
3 ounces ground allspice
Wet flour with milk to the consistence of bread overnight, adding one quart yeast; the next morning work the butter and sugar together for half an hour, which will render the cake much lighter and whiter; when it has rise light work in every other ingredient except the plumbs, which work in when going into the oven.

Updated recipe for Election Day Cake from the Cooking Channel (We selected this one because others exclude the booze.. we like tradition.)
Two .25-ounce envelopes dry active yeast
1 cup warm, but not hot, water (about 105 degrees F)
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus extra for greasing the pan
1 cup mixed dried fruit, such as golden raisins, cranberries and pitted prunes, chopped if large
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons packed dark brown sugar
1/3 cup American whiskey, bourbon or rye
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon fine salt
1/2 cup granulated sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
2 tablespoons milk
Sprinkle the yeast over the warm water in a medium bowl. Stir a few times and let stand to allow the yeast to dissolve and begin bubbling, 1 to 2 minutes. Sift 1 1/2 cups of the flour into the bowl and stir until mostly smooth. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside in a warm place for about 30 minutes. The mixture will expand, loosen in texture and will have large bubbles on the surface.

While that sits, generously butter a 12-cup Bundt pan and set aside. Place the dried fruit, 2 tablespoons of the brown sugar and all of the whiskey in a microwave-safe bowl. Stir until the sugar is dissolved. Heat in the microwave until hot and bubbling, 1 to 2 minutes. Stir and set aside to cool. In a medium bowl, whisk the remaining 1 1/2 cups flour with the cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg and salt.

Beat the butter with the remaining 1/2 cup brown and the granulated sugar with an electric mixer on medium-high speed until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, until combined (the mixture may look slightly curdled at this stage), and then add 1 teaspoon of the vanilla. Beat in the yeast mixture and then reduce the speed to medium-low and gradually beat in the flour mixture. Add the plumped dried fruit with any remaining liquid and beat on medium speed until the fruit is well blended. The dough should be soft and elastic at this point.

Transfer the dough to the prepared Bundt pan and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm place until the dough fills the pan about three-quarters of the way, about 2 hours. When is the cake is almost done rising, preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Bake the cake until golden brown and a skewer inserted comes out clean, 40 to 45 minutes. Cool for 30 minutes in the pan on a wire rack. Loosen the sides with a small metal spatula and turn onto the wire rack to cool completely.

Before serving, stir the confectioners’ sugar with the remaining 1/2 teaspoon vanilla and 1 tablespoon milk. Gradually add as much as needed of the second tablespoon of milk to make a thick glaze that will just gently run. Spoon over the top of the cake, allowing the glaze to slowly run down the outside and inside of the cake.

Note: Some of this material came from online article in the Hartford Courant by Leeanne Griffin (2016) and a blog post “Biography of America’s Earliest Cookbook Author – Amelia Simmons” by Barbara Wells Sarudy.(September 2014)

Copyright 2021 Julie O’Connor

It’s National Cookie Day! Yay!

You can’t talk about cookies without the Dutch and New Netherlands and you can’t talk about New Netherlands without talking about Albany.

By now you all know that the word cookie comes from the Dutch “koekje” (little cakes). As the Dutch adopted English customs, recipes of some Albany women refers to “cakes” and “wafers”, the English terms for cookie-like things, but you also see use of the words koeks (cakes) and koejkes sometimes interchangeably. A famous example is the “dood koeks”.. dead cakes, which were actually cookies served at New Netherlands Dutch funerals.

In some Albany Dutch family recipe collections (Maria Schuyler Van Rensselaer- sister of Eliza Schuyler Hamilton) by the late 1700s koekjes becomes “coekjes”. The first time the word “cookie” appears in publication is in Amelia Simmons “American Cookery” (the definitive second edition was published in Albany in 1796) as cookies and cookery. But the term cookie doesn’t seem to catch on right away.. (I know.. so not possible.. but true). In the “Frugal Housewife” in 1829 (Lydia Maria Child) perhaps the most well-known of the early 19th century cookbooks, there is nary a cookie to be found. But there are little cakes and jumbles, and we know by the recipes that these are actually what we think of as cookies.

And then we have a cookie explosion after the Civil War.(I’m thinking those New York boys spread the word about the glory of the cookie all across the North and South.) By 1880, there is not a single cookbook that doesn’t include cookie recipes.

So to celebrate the fact that today is Cookie Day (which really SHOULD be an Albany holiday) we’ve included a collection of old Albany cookie recipes, with some updates by the brilliant New Netherlands food historian, Peter Rose, and some newer (100 year old ) recipes that you can make today without pounds of flour, hog lard, pearl ash and a dozen eggs.

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Copyright 2021 Julie O’Connor

Christmas in Old Albany

This is the text of an article which appeared in the Albany Evening News, Friday, December 10, 1926.

CHRISTMAS IN OLD ALBANY
By Parker Lloyd-Smith

Mistress Angelica opened one eye. Undeniably it was morning, for she could make out quite clearly the design of the frost on the windowpanes. It looked like a rabbit, with funny pointed ears stretching up ever so high, almost in the very top pane. Tentatively she sniffed the air, half expecting the familiar spiced odor of a rabbit which has hung on the great spit in the oven. Tentatively she wiggled one toe from beneath the gay quilt and counter pane and tested the atmosphere of the room.

Not at all tentatively she withdrew the toe, entirely satisfied by her experiment that it was a very, very cold day indeed, cold even for the Albany countryside, where cold winters were to be expected. She decided to close the half open eye and wait for something to happen; perhaps wait until summer before getting up.

But, try as she might, she could sleep no more. The truant eye simply would not stay shut, but was forever taking sly peeps about the olive and yellow walls. It rested on a sketch lying on her young friend, Philip Hooker whom the good burghers of Albany said was a youth of promise. Philip had said the drawing was of a house for a bank which had impressed Mistress Angelica mightily, for she had never seen a house before it became a house, if you know what she meant.

Around the walls swept the irrepressible eye, half awake in spite of everything, although the other eye was firmly shut. It reached the door way, peered out into the dark hall, glanced up at the sprig of mistletoe –

With a sudden decision both eyes opened at once. The mistletoe, of course. How could she have forgotten? Last night she had hung it because it was the night for hanging mistletoe, and so, of course, today must be —

Christmas! Christmas of the year 1826 in the ancient city of Albany!

Before she had time to think she was at the window and was slaughtering the frost rabbit with quick pushes of her fingers. Now she could see the barnyard and just make out the turkeys and chickens in their coops. She wondered if the had all faced to the east at midnight as animals are supposed to do at midnight of Christmas eve. Or was there perhaps one wicked old turkey who didn’t believe in such things and who resolutely looked the other way.

With a little frown she put such a shocking thought out of her mind. Cousin Van Rensselaer would be horrified and Aunt Huybertie would look pained.

At any rate she was sure that when she went downstairs she would find the kitchen had been swept by the fairies and that there would be three more faggots on the hearth, one for each of the family, a special gift of the Christmas spirits.

She dressed quickly and went out. She would breakfast with Cousin Harriet, but first she would go into the town. Thrilled by the prospect, Mistress Angelica tripped lightly through the snow into Albany.

The town was awake and busy. There were still several hours before the good Dutch folk would be going to church and they all seemed to have had the same idea as Mistress Angelica. It almost looked as if every one of the 15,000 souls who inhabited Albany had joined the Christmas parade.

The throng of apprentices stalking around with their segars and their walking sticks, lords of the day, far above work and ripe for sport.

The little darkies strutted about showing rows of ivory and the yaller of their eyes, tokens of joy for the return of the annual jubilee.

Now and then through the crowds cluttered sulky, gig or tandem with the dandies sitting in style, in true Tom and Jerry fashion. What gay and rushing life to see in this slow Dutch town, thought Mistress Angelica as she returned a charming curtsey for a most majestic bow from a passing sulky. For sure, New York could furnish nothing better on this Christmas day.

In the odd corners of the streets where there were no paraders, hung all the good things in Albany’s calendar of eatables. Fat turkeys, pigs, geese, ducks, chickens, partridges and rabbits were as plenty as blackberries. The housewifely streak in Mistress Angelica responded in the abundance of delicacies. She thought of Christmas dinner.

This would come after church, which was the most formal event of the day. Not a Dutchman in Albany would miss church on Christmas, any more than he would have missed his St. Nicholas eve dinner three weeks before. The solid citizenry of Albany would be there en masse, in their most gorgeous clothes, suitable for the festive nature of the service.

For in all truth it was a festive service. The bare walls of the church were fairly hidden by garlands of evergreen, put up on Christmas eve by the devout. Mistress Angelica herself had helped with the decoration and had thought it great fun, although some had talked of the dissenters.

Not every one in Albany approved of this gay practice in the churches. There were those of strict Calvinistic persuasion who thought such designs smacked not a little of the “old one,” and who agreed with the anonymous person who called himself “Observator.” This earnest fellow had written to a newspaper in Schenectady, the”Cabinet,” only two weeks before and had called this evergreen hanging a “futile and improper practice.”

This has been recalled as Mistress Angelica helped put up the branches on which the snow was just melting, but she had answered by telling of what she had read in Albany’s newspaper, the “Microscope.” Just ten days before Christmas, the Microscope had probed into this business of Christmas customs and especially into the Puritan objections to church decoration.

“We have ever looked upon this custom as one of the most beautiful among all the ceremonies attached to the Christian worship,” declared the editor of the “Microscope.” “To deck the house of the Lord in wreaths of joyous flowers and ever-living germs of vegetation on the anniversary of the day that gave to the world a Saviour, a Redeemer and a God, must surely be deemed an act of piety.”

With these words, prettily uttered, did Mistress Angelica confound those who were quoting from the heretical Observation, and she went on, still remembering the Microscope:

“An evergreen is the emblem of the eternal spirit; and the coming of our Savior was certainly a matter of vital interest to all who believe in the existence of a soul. What then can be more reasonable, or what more proper, than that each return of the anniversary of that event should be marked by demonstrations of joy, and acts of good will to all mankind? Shall then the temples, erected expressly for the worship of God, be the first to be exempted?”

What could they answer, the doubters. One pictures them standing with rapt attention while the face of Mistress Angelica became grave.

“Would this modern Jeremiah have all our forms of worship dressed eternally in the sable garb of woe, and banish from our sanctuaries all those wreathed smiles and looks of honest cheerfulness which are the offspring and attendants of virtue? We trust not. At all events, if he is in favor of this gloomy, dark and dismal system, we trust he will find but few to second his unnatural, and we believe un-Christian wishes.”

Thus Mistress Angelica and the girls who were decking the church with garlands went at their work with new zeal, voicing their hearty disapproval of Observation and his gloomy ideas.

And so the church was verdant with evergreen when the good men and women of Albany filed in on Christmas morning, 1826, to hear the story of the wise men, and the Child of the manger.

If church was the formal occasion of the day, everyone knew that the afternoon would be devoted to another occasion, less serious but no less rigidly adhered to. Long before Christmas day, the odor of spices could have been remarked, coming from the witchens of the old Dutch houses. The “Microscope” had something to say about this, too:

“The practice also of passing round the merry can and partaking reasonably of the enlivening and invigorating glass, is truly appropriate, and can lead to no evil tendency among people of common sense. It warms the heart and arouses those feelings of generosity and humanity, which are so becoming to the human character, especially at this auspicious festival.”

Passing around the “merry can” was part of a custom which had existed ever since the oldest burgher could remember. This was the annual quaffing of copious libations of a mixture of spiced liquor, which the Dutch residents denominated “hot stuff.” This custom undoubtedly originated with the circulation of the Wassail bowl among the merry forefathers of this Albany of 1826.

The “Microscope” likes these antique manners:

“I like them well – the curious preciseness
“And all-pretending gravity of those
“That seek to banish hence these harmless sports
“Have thrust away much ancient honesty.”

So much for the day that Mistress Angelica lived with thrilling heart. The evening was to come, an evening spent before the Yule-Log which still burned brightly in the hearth. In the servants’ quarters hung the mistletoe still, and young men were plucking a berry from it each time they caught a lass beneath its greenery, until the last berry was gone and the sport ended.

And so Christmas drew to a close in the year 1826 and Mistress Angelica went back in her room to try to put all these things out of her mind. Which presently she did, and dreamed of young apprentices with segars and walking sticks, little darkies showing the yaller upon the windowpane.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Parker Lloyd-Smith was son of the late Supreme Court Justice Walter Lloyd-Smith, a graduate of Princeton and a Rhodes scholar at Oxford. He worked on the Knickerbocker Press and the Albany Evening News from 1926 to 1928. First assigned the obituaries, within six months he was covering City Hall, where he was well-liked, and a little later he was editor of the Sunday magazine section. A forward thinker and local activist, he was Secretary of the Albany Air Board, lobbying hard for what would become Albany Airport; he also spearheaded the effort to install a carillon atop Albany’s City Hall. He wrote the above story at age 24.

In 1928, Time Magazine offered Parker a job as Associate Editor, and in 1930, as Managing Editor, he helped Henry Luce launch Fortune Magazine.

parker

Late at night on September 16, 1931, Parker Lloyd-Smith jumped naked to his death from the 23rd floor of his fashionable apartment house at 12 E. 86th Street, just off Fifth Avenue, where he lived with his widowed mother. He left her this note:

“Mother Charm: The heat is frightful – but this is a farewell – if this is waiting – I will wait for you.

“My love and gratitude always. Signed Parker.”

He was 29.

Largely forgotten today, the classicist writer left behind a modest legacy of poems, magazine articles, and newspaper pieces.

This first appeared in Al Quaglieri’s blog Doc Circe Died for Our Sins

Re-discovering Sibbie: the Last Schuyler Slave

 

In 2016, I came across a burial index card for a woman identified as “Libbie,” a servant of the Schuyler family. At first glance, it seemed this might be the same Libby who is recorded as being a slave at the Schuyler Manison (The Pastures) in Albany as well as the family’s farm at Saratoga. The search for her headstone at Albany Rural Cemetery uncovered a different story.

In recent years, there has been much attention given to the slaves of the Schuyler family at The Flatts. In 2005, excavations at a commercial site across Broadway (Route 32) from the Schuyler Flatts Park uncovered the bones of slaves buried in a plot separate from the Schuyler family’s own burial ground.

A Chronology of The Flatts History
After a period of examination by experts at the New York State Museum, these remains were reburied in a special public ceremony at the historic Saint Agnes Roman Catholic Cemetery near their original resting place. The reburial took place on June 17, 2016.
The names of those slaves are unknown, their stories pieced together as much as possible from their bones and the circumstances of their original burial.

Just across the fence dividing Saint Agnes from the neighboring Albany Rural Cemetery, however, is the long-forgotten grave of a woman who was the last known slave of the Schuylers at The Flatts.

Located on the North Ridge at Albany Rural, the tilting headstone is small and almost completely illegible. The white marble has eroded to the point where its inscription is only visible through rubbings. A flag and Grand Army of The Republic marker misplaced from some other grave might give the impression that it is the burial place of a Civil War soldier; there are several Union veterans and one Confederate buried in the same section and it’s probably the metal G.A.R. marker was accidentally moved from one of the former.

Inside the Rural Cemetery’s office, the Single Grave Book identifies the grave as that of “Libbie” Schuyler. (Colored). Widow Schuyler’s servant. The entry is handwritten, the name “Libbie” is traced over in red ink.

A stamp on the page notes that “this record was made from the lot,” meaning it was transcribed from the headstone. However, when it was transcribed, a small, but significant mistake was made.

The front of the headstone reads, A Faithful Servant of The Schuyler Family Died Nov 24 1862. The curved top edge is carved with the name, LIBBIE.

Significantly, what appears to be an “L” is, in fact, an “S.”

The woman buried here is Sibbie (also known as Sibina or Sibby), the last documented slave at The Flatts.

The following obituary appeared in the West Troy Advocate in November, 1862.

“DEATH OF AN AGED COLORED WOMAN – Many of our citizens may have seen or heard of the infirm and decrepit colored woman living at the residence of Mrs. SCHUYLER – at the SCHUYLER homestead in Watervliet. She is now no more, death having closed her existence on Sunday night last. Her history is somewhat peculiar. She is supposed to have been born as a slave in Tarrytown Westchester Co. – her first “massa” being a man named Storms, by whom she was held for several years when she was sold to a family name VANDENBURGH then residing in Schaghticoke, Rensselaer Co. She lived here several years, when, about 60 years since, she became the property of the late Philip S. SCHUYLER, and was brought to this town where she has ever since resided. When the act abolishing slavery in this State took effect, she, of course, became free but she preferred to remain with her former master. SABINA – ‘SIBBY’ as she was called was thought highly of by the descendants of her former master, and by them for the past 12 years (during which time she has been almost entirely helpless) she has been tenderly cared for. Her age was not positively known but could have been very little, if any, short of 90 years. Her funeral took place yesterday afternoon and was quite largely attended. Her remains were interred in the cemetery.”

A search of census records from Westchester County shows several individuals named Storm or Storms who were slaveowners, including a Thomas Storm who had three slaves according to the 1790 census and one in the 1800 census. Another Storm is recorded as living in the Schaghticoke area, too. There is probably a familial connection which might have facilitated Sibina’s sale to the Vandenburghs. The possible buyer of Sibbie might have been one Lavinus (Livinus) Vandenburgh who is identified in census records as owning two slaves in 1790, but none after 1800. Another family connection may have played a role in her sale to the Schuylers; Philip S. Schuyler who purchased her was married to one Rachael Vandenburgh.

The Philip S. Schuyler who purchased Sibbie and brought her to The Flatts in Watervliet is not to be confused with his more famous cousin, General Philip Schuyler of Albany. Philip S. Schuyler was the son of Stephanus Schuyler and Engeltie Van Vechten. In 1810, Philip S. Schuyler is listed as owning four slaves there. One of those four slaves would have been Sibbie.

When the gradual abolition of slavery in New York State took full effect in 1827, Sibbie would have been emancipated. She remained with the Schuylers at The Flatts. By this time, she would have been between fifty-five and sixty-five years old. Perhaps starting a new live as a free woman of color would have been too great a challenge for her.

It appears that Sibbie stayed on as a servant to the “Widow Schuyler” listed in the Cemetery’s Single Grave Book. This “Widow Schuyler” is most likely Angelica Lansing, widow of Philip S. Schuyler’s son, Lucas. Lucas Van Vechtan Schuyler died in 1852 and Angelica lived with the extended Schuyler family at The Flatts as a widow until her own death in 1874. The name “Angelica Schuyler” appears frequently in city directories and other records from this period, but because of the tendency for some of Albany’s older prominent families to repeat names quite frequently (even withing the same generation), it’s difficult to say if any of these Angelicas are the same as the Angelica Lansing Schuyler at The Flatts.

By 1850, Sibbie’s health had begun to fail. The death notice stated that she had become “helpless” in her advanced age and that the Schuyler family cared for her “tenderly” for her final twelve years. The 1850 state census mentions her as one “Sylva Sabina” in the Schuyler household and gives her age as seventy-five. The 1860 federal census lists her as “Sibina Jackson,” colored, and gives her age as eighty. The origin of the surname Jackson is unknown at this time. It is the only instance where she is known by a last name and it is not known if she ever married. Also, it is not known if she was indeed eighty years old or this was an estimate of her age with her actual birth year being unknown. Her cause of death is also unknown, but it can be safely attributed to her advanced age.

By the time Sibbie died in 1862, the old slave burial grounds were not in use. The site where slaves had been buried was no longer part of The Flatts; it had been sold and redeveloped.

The Schuylers had a very old burial ground for the family close to their house, but by the 1860s, it was used infrequently. Lucas and Angelica were probably among the last buried there. In 1874, the same year Angelica Lansing Schuyler was buried there, publisher and historian Joel Munsell wrote that the old Flatts cemetery was in a neglected condition and that “the approach of streets and dwellings indicates an invasion at no distant day of this enclosure, and the removal of these bones and monuments to the cemetery over the way.” Some Schuylers, including Philip S. and Rachael, Lucas, and Angelica, were removed to new family plots at Albany Rural in the 1870s. In the 1920s, the remaining graves at The Flatts were indeed removed to Albany Rural and arranged behind the monument to General Schuyler in Lot 2, Section 29. Stephanus Schuyler and his wife, Engletie, are among those in Section 29

The original Schuyler Flatts burial ground
So, Sibbie, the last documented slave at The Flatts, was buried not buried at The Flatts which had been her home for six decades, but at the Albany Rural Cemetery. She was interred in Grave #1, Tier #1, Section 98 on the North Ridge.

Sibbie’s simple headstone was most likely purchased by the Schuyler family, perhaps by the Widow Schuyler. Over the years, the elements eroded the soft white marble so, when the inscription was transcribed to the Single Grave Book, her name was recorded as “Libbie.” With the misplacement of a G.A.R. marker, her grave became easily mistaken for a soldier’s and the grave of this former slave easily forgotten.

See more from Paula at https://www.facebook.com/ARCbeyondthegraves/

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Copyright 2017 Paula Lemire

The 1806 Eclipse in Albany NY

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz21032395_1406845769363681_2920036139142033724_nThe Eclipse in Albany – June 16, 1806; commenced about 11 am and the total eclipse lasted about 5 minutes in duration.

“Then came the great eclipse of 1806 which clearly announced the fall and final end of the Dutch Dynasty.”  from “Random Recollections of Albany from 1800 to 1808” by Gorham A. Worth

There was a painting made by Albany artist Ezra Ames, (alas the painting appears to have be “lost”) based on a much discussed description by Simeon De Witt, Surveyor General of New York State (and designer of the street grids for Albany and New York City).

“The edge of the moon was strongly illuminated, and had the brilliancy of polished silver. No common colors could express this. I therefore directed it to be attempted by a raised silver rim. No verbal description can give anything like a true idea of this sublime spectacle, with which man is so rarely gratified. In order to have a proper conception of what is intended to be represented, you must transfer your ideas to the heavens and imagine, at the departure of the last ray of the Sun, in his retreat behind the Moon, an awful gloom in an instant diffused over the face of nature, and around a dark circle near the south, an immense radiated glory, like a new creation, bursting on the sight, and for some minutes fixing the gaze of man in silent amazement.
As no verbal description can give any thing like a true idea of this sublime spectacle, with which mani is so rarely gratified, I thought this painting would not be an unwelcome present to the Society, or an improper article to be preserved among its collection of subjects for philosophical speculation. But, in order to have a proper conception of what is intended to be represented, you must transfer your ideas to the heavens, and imagine, at the departure of the last ray of the sun, in its retreat behind the moon, an awful gloom immediately diffused over the face of nature; and round a dark circle, near the zenith, an immense radiated glory, like a new creation, in a moment bursting on the sight, and for several minutes fixing the gaze of man in silent amazement. The luminotus circle on the edge of the moon, as well as the rays which were darted from her, were remarkably pale, and had that bluish tint, which distinguishes the colour of quicksilver from a dead white.”

copyright 2021 Julie O’Connor

Gallow’s Hill – Albany’s Last Public Execution

On August 24,1827- between 30,000 and 40,000 people came to see Albany’s last public execution when Jesse Strang was hanged at Gallows Hills near the Ruttenkill for an infamous murder.

( We guess you packed a picnic lunch and bought souvenirs. for the kids.)

Jesse Strang, of Putnam County deserted his wife and children in the belief that his wife was unfaithful. He became a drifter and went to Ohio but shortly after returned to New York in 1826. The scandalous nature of his separation might have stopped then if there had not been a baggage problem that caused him to seek a job in Albany.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz21077633_1409007342480857_4985302491132898954_nStrang met Elsie Whipple in a tavern in Albany. Elsie was the daughter of Abraham Lansing and Elsie Van Rensselaer and wife of John Whipple. Strang fell in love with Elsie and took a job as a handyman under the name of Joseph Orton in Cherry Hill, the Van Rensselaers’ residence. Elsie fell in love with him. Elsie tended to be grumpy, irksome, and prone to hysterics and violent shouting fits. She felt domineered and controlled by her husband. The lovers kept in touch with the help of members of the household who passed letters between them.
Elsie decided that the best thing for them to do was to kill John and run away. Elsie conspired with a reluctant Jesse to poison John’s tea with arsenic so they could elope, but their attempt failed.
John Whipple became suspicious and kept a loaded gun. In May 1827, Elsie stole the bullet and gave it to Strang, and once more insisted that Strang kill her husband. Strang climbed onto the roof of the shed one night and used his rifle to shoot and kill Whipple. Strang then immediately ran towards a local store to secure an alibi. He then returned to Cherry Hill and helped a doctor remove the bullet from Whipple’s body.
Later, however, the police ruled that he could have traveled the mile from Cherry Hill to the store and detained Whipple on suspicion of the murder. Upon capture, a fearful Strang, hoping for a lighter sentence, confessed and blamed Elsie for conception of the plan. This led to the incarceration of Elsie. Whenever they communicated in jail, Elsie reminded him that had he not confessed, the two might have gotten off scot-free in Montreal, as they had been planning to escape there.
Trial
Believing Elsie would be given a lighter sentence as she was a woman, Jesse asked his lawyer, Calvin Pepper, to plant documents at Cherry Hill incriminating Elsie as the mastermind behind the plan as he had burned the letters she sent him. Pepper refused and told him he would not receive a lighter sentence whatever he did.
As Jesse suspected, Elsie was said to be the victim, but she had purchased the rifle, she removed the curtain in John’s room so Jesse could shoot John.
At Strang’s trial, the district attorney was Edward Livingston, a relative of the Van Rensselaers and Lansings’ who told Jesse to his face, “You are guilty, you must be convicted, you must die!” Presiding Judge Duer called him a “serpent” and a “fiend”. When the judge asked the jury for a verdict, the jury deliberated for less than 15 minutes before pronouncing him guilty of murder.
Three days after Strang’s trial, Elsie Whipple stood trial for aiding and abetting the murder of her husband. In four days, Elsie was pronounced not guilty and cleared of charges. After Strang finished testifying on the stand at Elsie’s trial, he was sentenced to death by hanging.

Thanks to Paula Lemire for remembering the date and photos of Gallows Hill and to Wiki for synopsis of the murder.

Copyright 2021  Julie O’Connor

The Un-Dutching of Albany

“Albany was indeed Dutch, in all its moods and tenses; thoroughly and inveterately Dutch.”

But even the dogs changed their accents.

The following is from “Random Recollections of Albany: From 1800 to 1808” (published in 1866).. It was written by Gorham A. Worth, a banker who had lived here during his 20s and then went on to make a lot of money and impart upon the world his recollections of multiple places, including Hudson and Cincinnati.

Anyway, there’s an interesting section early in Worth’s book that recalls a significant change in Albany: the shift from Dutch culture to a more English/American/Yankee culture. Spoiler: Albany wasn’t a fan of change
“The Yankees were creeping in. Every day added to their number; and the unhallowed hand of innovation was seen pointing its impertinent finger at the cherished habits and venerated customs of the ancient burgers.”
It’s a fun and interesting read, so we clipped it…
Worth’s recollection of Albany in 1800 is of a city that he regarded as a kind of backwater — but, um, in a good way. “Nothing could be more unique or picturesque to the eye, than Albany in its primitive days. Even at the period above mentioned, it struck me as peculiarly naive and beautiful. All was antique, clean and quiet.”
He continues a little later on…””Pearl street, it must be remembered, was, in those days, the west end for the town; for there the town ended, and there resided some of the most aristocratic of the ancient burgers. There, a little after sunrise, in a mild spring morning, might be seen, sitting by the side of their doors, the ancient and venerable Mynheers with their little sharp cocked hats, or red-ringed worsted caps (as the case might be), drawn tight over their heads. There they sat, like monuments of a former age, still lingering on the verge of time; or like mile-stones upon a turnpike road, solus in solo! or, in simple English, unlike anything I had ever seen before. But there they sat, smoking their pipes in that dignified silence, and with that phlegmatic gravity, which would have done honor to Sir Wonter Van Twiller, or even to Puffendorf himself. The whole line of the street, on either side, was dotted by the little clouds of smoke, that, issuing from their pipes, and, curling around their noddles, rose slowly up the antique gables, and mingled with the morning air; giving beauty to the scene, and adding an air of life to the picture. But the great charm was in the novelty of the thing. I had seen a Dutch house before, but never till then had I seen a row of Dutchmen smoking in a Dutch city.

Albany was indeed Dutch, in all its moods and tenses; thoroughly and inveterately Dutch. The buildings were Dutch–Dutch in style, in position, attitude and aspect. The people were Dutch, the horses were Dutch, and even the dogs were Dutch. If any confirmation were wanting, as to the origin and character of the place, it might be found in the old Dutch church, which was itself always to be found in the middle of State street, looking as if it had been wheeled out of line by the giants of old, and there left; or had dropped down from the clouds in a dark night, and had stuck fast where it fell.

All the old buildings in the city — and they constituted a large majority — were but one story high, with sharp peaked roofs, surmounted by a rooster, vulgarly called a weathercock. Every house, having any pretensions to dignity, was placed with its gable end to the street, and was ornamented with huge iron numericals, announcing the date of its erection; while from its eaves long wooden gutters, or spouts, projected in front some six or seven feet, so as to discharge the water from the roof, when it rained, directly over the centre of the sidewalls. This was probably contrived for the benefit of those who were compelled to be out in wet weather, as it furnished them with an extra shower-bath free of expense.
But the destined hour was drawing near. The Yankees were creeping in. Every day added to their number; and the unhallowed hand of innovation was seen pointing its impertinent finger at the cherished habits and venerated customs of the ancient burgers. These meddling eastern Saxons at length obtained a majority in the city councils; and then came an order, with a handsaw, to “cut off those spouts.” Nothing could exceed the consternation of the aforesaid burgers, upon the announcement of this order. Had it been a decree abolishing their mother tongue, it could hardly have excited greater astonishment, or greater indignation. “What!” said they, “are our own spouts, then, to be measured and graduated by a corporation standard! Are they to be cut off or foreshortened, without our knowledge or consent!” But the Dutch still retained the obstinacy, if not the valor, of their ancestors. They rallied their forces and at the next election, the principal author of the obnoxious order (my old friend Elkanah Watson), was elected a constable of the ward in which he lived! This done, they went to sleep again; and before they awoke, new swarms had arrived, and a complete and thorough revolution had taken place. The Yankees were in possession of the city! and the fate of the Dutch was sealed.

A restless, leveling, innovating spirit, now prevailed throughout the city. The detested word improvement was in every mouth, and resistance was unavailing. The stinted pines became alarmed, and gradually receded. The hills themselves gave way. New streets opened their extended lines, and the old ones grew wider. The roosters on the gable heads, that for more than a century had braved the Indians and the breeze; that had even flapped their wings and crowed in the face of Burgoyne himself, now gave it up, and came quietly down. The gables in despair soon followed, and more imposing fronts soon reared their corniced heads. The old Dutch Church itself, thought to be immortal, submitted to its fate and fell! not at the foot of Pompey’s statute, exactly, but at the foot of State street, which freed from the obstruction thenceforward became the Rialto of the city, where peddlers of stale sea-cod, and country hucksters, now do congregate.

Even the dogs now began to bark in broken English; many of them, indeed, had already caught the Yankee twang, so rapid was the progress of refinement. In the process of a few brief years, all that was venerable in the eyes of the ancient burgers disappeared. Then came the great eclipse of 1806, which clearly announced the fall and final end of the Dutch dynasty. It is hardly necessary to say, that not an iron rooster has crowed upon the gable heads, nor a civil cocked hat been seen in the ancient city of Albany, from that day to this.”

Worth then goes on to discuss the famous local families of the time, many of them with names that still echo today: Van Rensselaer, Ten Broeck, Gansevoort, Lansing, Van Schaick, Ten Eyck, Pruyn, and so on.

Excerpted from 8/24/17 All Over Albany