Elbows, Ankles and Décolletage: Myths of 18th Century Women’s Fashion Part 1

by Danielle Funiciello

DISCLAIMER: This article features discussion about nudity and exposure in drawings and paintings. No nudity is shown within the article (except through a link which is marked), but language regarding the female form is used, and may not be comfortable for young or sensitive readers.

Until the social movements of the 1960s hit the museum world in the 1970s, there were a lot of problems with interpretation of female historical figures. One might argue that there are still a lot of problems with interpretation of female historic figures, though things are generally moving in the right direction. The age old excuse has been that there are not enough sources about women, and that this problem is upon us since women were not considered historically relevant in their own time, and so sources were not saved. Documentation about women is sometimes hard to come by, especially when it comes to ladies of lower classes, and the enslaved. There are two things, however, in women’s history of which there is no shortage:  images and myths. There are so many myths about women in the 18^th Century, that today we will only be focusing on a few that relate to misconceptions about historical modesty, but we will be using lots of images to address these myths!

The Myth: 18^th Century people were more sexually repressed and modestly dressed that modern people. It was scandalous for women to show their ankles or elbows in public because those were sexualized body parts – that is why women wore long skirts and ¾ or full sleeve gowns. Low-cut dresses were also risqué.

Given our modern concept of body and sexuality, we have very set notions about what is and is not appropriate and, because most of us are taught that our history begins with religious settlers like the Pilgrims, we tend to imagine that all Colonists were more prudish than we are. In actuality, outside of actual Puritans (and other conservative religious groups), the Colonial era was not very puritanical. As an example, up to one third of Colonial women went to the alter pregnant, depending on the colony.

Furthermore, sexualization of individual body parts is as different from century to century as it is from culture to culture. Much of what we now think of as the strict repression of “the past” (the first sign that a historical myth is misplaced is when the time period in question is vague) became set during the Victorian era (1837-1901).

The ankles myth, for instance, is one that comes out of 19^th-Century lore and was applied back to the 18^th-Century. Whether the ankles myth is true within the Victorian period is outside of the scope of this article, but it was not true of women in the 18^th-Century. It would have been inappropriate for anyone of the genteel class, man or woman, to show any part of their leg without a stocking. However, lifting one’s skirts to expose the stocking-footed ankle was quite common. After all, it would have been dangerous to ascend stairs or enter a carriage without arranging one’s skirts to do so. Many women’s fashions of the late 18^th-Century incorporated slightly shorter skirts in a style that was meant to imitate the pastoral, working-class shepherdess - and which allowed the ankle to be seen.

Two 18th-Century French fashion plates and a dress from the Kyoto Costume Institute (center) showing the popular shepherdess style gown which was meant to mimic (albeit unrealistically) working-class women's styles through shorter hemlines and bustled up skirts. Fashion plates were published and widely distributed to show popular styles to people living outside of high-fashion cities. Far from being a pornographic display of the leg, the image on the left was meant to show the styles of shoe, stocking, and garter appropriate to wear with such a dress.

A "Robe a la Turque" on a self-portrait of
Rose-Adelaide Ducreux, which clearly
shows her elbow exposed as she bends to
play the harp.

Similarly, the myth that women’s elbows had to be covered to avoid offending delicate sensibilities stems from observation of fashion tastes rather than any 18^th-Century letters, drawings, or documents that discuss the attractiveness of the elbow or the scandal of the elbow being exposed. Three quarter sleeve dresses were quite popular in the mid to late 18^th-Century, and while many such sleeves would have covered the elbow, many did so just barely, such that any bending of the arm would have exposed the elbow. It is true that there were not many short sleeved styles and that even if one wore a short sleeved dress, it was typically worn over a shift with full or ¾ sleeves.

Another "Robe a la Turque". This style, while
not defined by its' short sleeves, allowed the
wearer to layer fabrics in a way that displayed
wealth, especially when rich fabrics like silk
and lace were used.

There are two likely explanations for these styles. The first is that the linen shift undergarment was worn as an absorbent layer to remove oils and dirt from skin and protect the expensive outer garments from damage inflicted by the human body. It would not have been functional in this job if the shift sleeve was shorter than the gown sleeve allowing the skin to touch the outer garment. The second explanation for the style is that longer sleeves meant more fabric and more fabric meant more money. Short sleeves could be seen as skimping on fabric costs, but longer sleeves showed off one’s wealth. Layering sleeve lengths so that one could see the edge of the shift showed off even more fabric and thereby more wealth. Full length sleeves made of fine materials showed off one’s wealth even more, but restricted arm movement making it difficult to do any labor or, for that matter, leisure activities. The style became popular because many women chose the comfort of arm mobility but, among the wealthy, could use lace cuffs, ruffles, ribbons, and other costly adornments to suggest that the shortened sleeve was not an issue of money.

Catharine Van Rensselaer Schuyler
by Thomas McIllworth

Today’s article was prompted by a very frequent visitor reaction to portraits of Catharine Van Rensselaer Schuyler and her daughter Cornelia Schuyler Malcolm. It usually sounds something like this: “I can’t believe she’s wearing such a low cut dress! In that time period?!”

This is where our perceptions of what is, and what is not a sexualized body part come into play. More importantly, how body parts were considered sexual or vulgar has changed significantly. The upper chest, neck, and shoulders - the area referred to as décolletage, was considered a beautiful, but not overtly sexual area of the female body. Where we now consider too much exposed cleavage to be inappropriate, men and women of the 18^th-Century did not seem to think much of the swell of the chest. France in the 1790s took this to the extreme with fashions that allowed the breast to swell over the top of the gown. These gowns were shown in numerous fashion plates which were not intended as parody or pornography. [DISCLAIMER: Some of these fashions plates, which do contain illustrations of nudity, can be seen on this blog. The link is provided only as a location to see these images in a centralized place. Schuyler Mansion is not affiliated with this blog and the interpretations made by EKDuncan’s blog are not representative of the arguments made in this article.]

Cornelia Schuyler Morton
by Thomas Sully - on display
at Schuyler Mansion.

The French captions under each drawing describe only the style and features of the dresses. They make no mention of the exposure caused by these gowns, implying that the low-cut nature was not necessarily expected to shock or offend the viewer. This was another way of displaying one’s wealth. After all, a dress which can so easily slip off the wearer is not designed for rigorous activity. It could only be worn by someone who had no need to perform labor. This would also explain why this extreme fashion never takes foot in the Americas – even wealthy women like Catharine Schuyler, who owned slaves to do the bulk of the labor, still had more hands-on responsibilities than women in the high-courts of France.

"The Inconvenience of Dress", published by
S.W. Fores, which mocks the preferred female
shape created by fashion trends.

Strangely, more lewdness was implied in parody images of women wearing too much clothing than none at all. Things like paniers, bum rolls, and layered petticoats which, to the modern eye, cover and obscure the human figure, were considered suggestive to the point of vulgarity by some in the 18^th-Century. Back in the arena of décolletage; fichu - square or triangular scarves which were tucked around the neck and into the front of the gown) - are often considered modesty pieces by modern people. However, if worn in excessive layers – as became popular in the 1780s and 90s - they too were seen as being suggestive and showy; the 18^th-Century equivalent of bra-stuffing, perhaps? The fichu was more about comfort of movement and display of fabric as, you guessed it, a symbol of one’s wealth.

Catharine Van Cortlandt Van
Rensselaer. Compare to Catharine
Schuyler's portrait, above.

An additional point of interest regarding Catharine’s portrait, is that it is very likely that the body shown is not Catharine’s Schuyler’s at all. The dress was certainly not hers, as it appears on a number of other women at the time, painted by a number of different artists. This includes Catharine’s younger cousin, Catharine Van Cortlandt Van Rensselaer who is shown so identically to Catharine Schuyler, that the artist, did not even change the folds in her sleeve. In all likelihood, sketches for the body of the portrait were made from a model wearing a false gown which the artist kept in his studio – this would allow him to paint accurately draped fabric from life. The features of the dress were then painted in in mimic of another portrait, probably one of someone that Catharine wanted to emulate. This process meant that Catharine only had to pose briefly, so that the artist could make a sketch of her face from life, but the rest of the painting could be done from the

artist’s studio, saving time and money.

The fact that the body shown was not Catharine’s was not a secret. People looking at the portrait within the time period would have understood the painting process. Thereby, even if Catharine would not have been comfortable showing this much skin during her daily life, she hardly had reason to be embarrassed by someone else’s body with her head slapped on top.

We have a lot more images and myths regarding women in the 18^th-Century, so check back to the blog often if you liked this article. Additionally, since 2017 is not only the 100^th Anniversary of Schuyler Mansion’s opening, but also of women’s suffrage, we are pleased to announce that a program on the “Women of Schuyler Mansion” will be available both as an outreach program, and as a focus tour of the museum during the 2017 season. Further details will be available on Facebook by May 17^th, the first day of our open season.

Moses Hazen; A Profile of One of Schuyler’s Military Contacts

by Danielle Funiciello

"Defending Quebec from an American Attack, December 1775"
The Quebec Campaign was one of Schuyler's first commands after receiving his commission.

On September 6^th, 1775, Philip Schuyler arrived outside of “St Johns” (Sainte-Jean-sur-Richelieu – henceforth St. Jean, except in quotes), outside of Montreal. There he encamped and prepared his troops for a thrust into St. Jean that was part of the two pronged attack now known as the Invasion of Quebec. With Schuyler’s predilection for espionage, he was not going to go in blind, and sought information; he wished, of course, to know the size and condition of the British military at St. Jean, but also hoped to find Canadians sympathetic to the American cause. Within the day, Philip Schuyler received that information without even seeking it out. As he wrote to George Washington:

“In the Evening a Gentleman Mr [word  mutilated by Washington] whose Name I can only mention to Your Excellency, not having even ventured it to the Congress & therefore beg You to eraze the Scored Part of the Letter after Perusal came to me & gave me the following account,” September 20^th 1775  (the scored part refers to the words in italics - Washington only crossed out Hazen's name, rather than the scored instructions) 

Who was this mysterious gentleman? Why might not Schuyler have been keen to share his source with Congress? And what was the source’s motivation for bringing Schuyler information? The answers tell the story of a sometimes dark, opportunistic and intriguing character in the American Revolution.

Through later records, the name scratched out by Washington per Schuyler's instruction in this letter is identified as Moses Hazen, a former British soldier who had fought in the French and Indian War and purchased property and retired in St. Jean just before the outbreak of the Revolution. He was only a few month older than Schuyler and joined the military within a year of Schuyler’s commission. The two men’s French and Indian War career paths began similarly and gave them a number of opportunities to have met prior to this night in 1775. Schuyler had a handful of operatives available in the Montreal area, so the fact that he trusted Hazen’s intel rather than, or in addition to, seeking out other sources may have been indicative of a previous connection that led Schuyler to trust him. 

It is likely that Hazen was the same “Canadian,who twelve days ago left St Johns” who Schuyler collected information from earlier that year, just after his arrival at Fort Ticonderoga. That letter of July 18^th echoes that of September 20^th in another way – Schuyler warns Washington  “this, my dear General, as well as what follows in this paragraph I pray may be entre nous [between us] for reasons I need not suggest”.

The fact that Schuyler was hesitant to bandy the name Hazen about Congress may be further evidence that Schuyler was at least familiar with Hazen’s reputation – Hazen’s military past was, at best, morally ambiguous.

An 1812 political cartoon showing British officers paying for
American scalps. Though the cartoon implies otherwise, this
was practiced by Americans as well. During the French and Indian
War(1754-63) both sides used scalp taking as a demoralizing fear tactic.

General Jeffery Amherst, 1st Baronet; disproved
of Hazen's attack on Acadian women and children
during the French and Indian War. He also authorized
the use of smallpox blankets as biological warfare
against entire tribes of Native Americans.

During the French and Indian War, Hazen had served under Captain John McCurdy, in a company under Roger’s Rangers. When McCurdy was killed in 1759, Hazen was promoted to command the unit. Under Hazen, the unit was known for their participation in raids - burning hundreds of Acadian (French) homes - and engaging in other scare tactics like scalping, a brutal practice adopted by Europeans and Native Americans alike on both sides of the conflict. A raid of Sainte Anne during the St. Jean River Campaign sticks out as a particular mark on Hazen’s defendable reputation, during which Hazen’s men captured Josef Godin-Beaufontaine and his Acadian militia. Hazen took 6 scalps, 23 prisoners and, in trying to goad Godin-Beaufontaine into signing an oath of allegiance, the lives of Godin-Beaufontaine’s daughter and three of his grandchildren. Some versions of the story have Hazen burning the women and children in their home, along with four members of the militia. Hearing news of the new Captain’s actions during the raid on Sainte Anne, General Jeffery Amherst condemned Hazen saying “that affair has sullied his merit with me” – this is the same General Amherst who ordered blankets from smallpox wards to be sent among the Native tribes. Before settling down in St. Jean, Hazen was also accused of involvement in the scalping of a priest and thirty parishioners, and of having an affair with the wife of one Joseph Kelly. Kelly further claimed that Hazen had him imprisoned with a false charge to avoid the issue of the affair. To top off his apparent untrustworthiness, Hazen had also reported on the first skirmishes of the Revolution to British General Carleton during the early months of 1775 and had been authorized to form a British unit, though he declined to do so.

We do not know if Schuyler was aware of these actions, but either based on a previous association with Hazen, or some other instinct, Schuyler chose to trust Hazen’s military intelligence and passed the following information to Washington:

“That there were then at St Johns about 100 Indians & that there was a considerable Body with Colo: Johnson; That the Fortifications were compleat [sic] & strong & plentifully furnished with Cannon; […] That he does not believe that our Army will be joined by one Canadian; […] That in the Situation we were in he judged it would be imprudent to attack St Johns and advised Us to send some Parties amongst the Inhabitants & the Remainder of the Army to retire to the Isle-au-Noix, from whence we might have an Intercourse with La Praire”

The original plan of attack of Montreal through
St. Jean, shown in blue. This plan allowed Schuyler
to use bateaux he had built at Ticonderoga to move
troops and supplies up the Richelieu River. The
alternate approach, suggested by unaligned Hazen
is shown in green. After taking Montreal, Schuyler
was to join in an attack from the south on Quebec.
 Benedict Arnold led troops through Maine to
attack Quebec from the North.

This bleak report was a blow to Schuyler, who had been hopeful that his surge into Canada would be met with enthusiasm from Canadians. He had believed that militias from St. Jean, sympathetic to the Revolutionary cause, would join him for the push into Montreal and through to Quebec and that the Natives would remain neutral. This information may have been particularly disheartening in contrast to the letter of July 18^th. If “A Canadian, who twelve days ago left St Johns” was in fact Hazen, he had ensured Philip “that there are many Indians in Canada, but believes neither they or the Canadians will join [the British forces]”.

Schuyler’s hope was further dampened by illness sweeping the army. He reports that the troops “returned on Monday the Eleventh, on Tuesday the twelfth I found I had upwards of 600 sick, Waterbery’s Regiment being reduced to less than 500” and that he had fallen ill as well.

All of this in concert led Schuyler to fall back to Ile-aux-Noix, just as Hazen had suggested, to reconsider the attack on St. Jean.

But reports from James Livingston said that he was successful in raising troops near Chambly (eventually the 1^st Canadian Regiment under Livingston's command) and in transporting cannons within range of St. Jean where he reported much more favorable odds for the Continental Army - making it sound like Hazen’s intel was either incorrect or exaggerated. The attack would go forward on September 17^th, by which point Schuyler had turned over command to General Montgomery in order to deal with an attack of gout.

In the meantime, Moses Hazen had returned to his home in St. Jean. The series of events that followed lead us to question what his true motivation was for the news delivered to Philip Schuyler at the eve of the siege of St. Jean. Was Hazen presenting accurate information or slanting the facts in hopes that the battle would circumnavigate St. Jean? Was he hesitant to come out of retirement or undecided on what side to come out of retirement for? Was his primary concern just the preservation of his home and property value?

During the attack on the 17^th, John Brown, a spy who had also been reporting back to Schuyler, came in contact with Hazen during a skirmish north of the Fort and arrested him. It is unclear if Hazen participated in the skirmish in any way or was just arrested because his loyalties were unknown. He was held only briefly by the Americans before Brown’s men were attacked and Hazen was abandon to the British, who arrested him in turn. In the meantime, General Mongomery informs Schuyler that “Mr Livingston some Days ago took Post at Hazen’s House with near 200 Canadians, they are erecting a Battery there, which seems to make the Garrison very uneasy”. Given the quick turnover, it is possible that Hazen did not even know that the Continental Army had set up their base of operations on his estate just across from the Fort in St. Jean.

Hazen would not return to his home for some time as he was instead sent to Montreal where he was imprisoned under General Carleton for nearly two months. As the Continental Army pushed through St. Jean into Montreal, Hazen was once again abandoned in transfer. According to the Dictionary of Canadian Biography, Hazen claimed that Carleton had again offered him a command under the British, but he once again refused on his loyalties to the American cause. He claimed that the unpleasant conditions of his imprisonment further solidified his loyalty and he officially joined the American army during their attack on Quebec.

Hazen was present for the Death of General Montgomery during
the siege of Quebec in 1775 and was sent to Congress to report
on the battle.

Somewhat strangely, less than two months after joining the American cause, Hazen was sent as an envoy, alongside the decade younger Edward Antill to report to Congress on the death of General Montgomery and the course of the Quebec campaign. In asking Congress to send reinforcements, Hazen negotiated that one of the two Canadian units formed, would be under his own command. The 1^st Canadian Regiment was promised to James Livingston by General Montgomery, while the 2^nd Canadian Regiment was intended (by Benedict Arnold, who led the second arm of attack during the Quebec campaign) to be given to John Duggan. In addition to usurping Duggan’s commission, Hazen negotiated monies owed to him for the use and damaging of his property and an agreement regarding the future treatment of his property in St. Jean for the remainder of the war. He, rather ridiculously, valued the property damages upwards of $11,000, though Congress was only willing to pay him about 20% of that.

Benedict Arnold had multiple spats with
Moses Hazen. The feuding perhaps
began when Hazen usurped a position
Arnold promised to another officer.

Hazen’s 2^nd Canadian Regiment was unique because he negotiated it to be commissioned directly through Congress, gaining it the nickname “Congress’ Own”. This also led to some questions surrounding to what degree he had to follow the typical chains of command. Obviously, he had to obey other direct commissions issued by Congress, like Generals Washington and Schuyler, but if a command contrary to his orders from Congress came from a brigadier general of another unit, would Hazen, as a lower-ranking colonel still have to obey? Hazen did not seem to think so and faced multiple courts martial for an insubordination charge by Benedict Arnold who was at that time a brigadier general. Hazen was repeatedly cleared through three years of on-and-off litigation throughout the war.

Hazen’s propensity for legal action did not start or end with Arnold. Before and after the war, he was persistently embroiled in lawsuits, including several with Congress and the government. Right up to his death, he was suing for further wartime property damage and use and remuneration for wages lost. He argued that since he had been retired on British half pay before the war, he should be recompensed by Congress that half pay which he had forfeited by joining the Continental Army. Though the case was still open at his death, his family did eventually win over $6,000 in that suit.

We tend to think of American Revolutionaries as a set type, but in reality, there were numerous personalities and numerous reasons why individuals did, or did not join in the Revolution. For Revolutionaries and Loyalists alike, the decision to join the war on either side was not always a clear one. Moses Hazen, though he may have initially intended to stay retired, weighed his options based at least partially on which side he felt would ultimately benefit himself and his property. Not joining the war in favor of continuing one’s daily life was not an option for most. Refusing to choose a side, as we see Hazen attempt at first, was considered tantamount to treason by both sides, which is very likely why Hazen was bounced back and forth, captured by both armies before his loyalty was made clear. Perhaps Philip Schuyler, who took Hazen’s intel but made no attempt to capture him nor gain an oath of allegiance from him, understood the hesitance to declare oneself. Philip’s military mentor, John Bradstreet - who had immense influence over Philip and lived with the family at Schuyler Mansion - would have almost certainly remained loyal to the British crown had he not died in 1774. Philip joined the Continental Congress soon after, but one can presume that had Bradstreet survived into the war, that decision would have been much more difficult.

If you liked this profile and would be interested in learning more about the military contacts in Schuyler’s career, please let us know in the comments. Schuyler Mansion will reopen for our full season starting May 17^th, 2017. Follow our Facebook page for more articles and updates on the exciting events of our 2017 centennial season.

Searching for the Enslaved Women of Schuyler Mansion

by Ian Mumpton

One of our ongoing projects at Schuyler Mansion is to attempting to uncover the identities, relationships, and, where possible, the daily lives of more than thirty people of African descent enslaved by the Schuyler family. Two of our recent articles have focused on specific individuals or groups of individuals mentioned in the surviving documentary evidence (to read them, click here or here). Both of these articles have been about men, however the Schuylers lived off of the labor of both men and women. It can be difficult to determine exact figures, however later records suggest a near equal divide between male and female in the enslaved population of the household. For example, in 1798, Philip Schuyler was listed as owning eleven slaves, including three men and one boy, and three women and two girls. Similarly, the manumission record filed after Philip’s death in 1804 established the free-status of two men, two women, and three children (two boys and one girl).

A modern recreation of a light laundry day. The enslaved
women of Schuyler mansion would have dealt with much more
clothing than this for a household as large as the Schuylers.

Clearly, the labor performed by enslaved women was considered valuable enough for women to make up roughly 50% of the enslaved workforce of the family. Despite this, women are mentioned far less frequently in the surviving documentation than men. For example, a receipt from 1771 for shoe purchases and repairs mentions twenty enslaved people by name. Fifteen of those listed (75%) are men, while only five (25%) are women. This doesn’t necessarily indicate a larger male population than female; simply that in the Fall and Winter of 1771 more men needed new or repaired shoes than did women. This can give us an indication of the differences between the work performed by enslaved women and enslaved men. As mentioned in previous articles, many of the men were tasked with transporting goods and people between Schuyler’s properties in Albany and Saratoga. Others appear to have assisted with mill work and were put to work cutting timber. This sort of labor would have worn out shoes more quickly than the primarily indoor, domestic work performed by women. That is not to say that this work was necessarily more arduous than the hours of hauling water (at least 260 lbs. of water were needed for a laundry day), scrubbing clothing and dishes, and other chores tended to by enslaved women; the nature of the work simply required more travel time, thereby causing men to appear more frequently in the receipt.

One of the difficulties in reconstructing specific details about the lives of enslaved women in the Schuyler household arises from the fact that, unlike their male counterparts, women are very rarely referred to by name in the surviving documents. Of the thirty eight named individuals clearly identifiable in the documents as enslaved, twenty-nine (76%) of those identified by name are men or boys. Nine (fewer than 25%) are women or girls: Bet, Britt, Diana, Jane, Libey, Moll, Phoebe, Silvia, and Tallyho. Instead, Philip's letters and business papers refer to women in general terms, even in sources where men are referred to by name. For example, according to a medical receipt from 1755, Philip paid for medicine for two enslaved people. The man is identified as Mink, while the woman is only identified as “your Negro woman”. In 1762, the Schuyler family paid for the field labor of “a Negro man and Wench”, neither of whom are named in the source. In 1788 John Bradstreet Schuyler received a letter from his father, Philip, discussing his recent purchase of “a wench” from a man named Wendell for £60.

A Woman Doing Laundry, date unknown, by Henry Robert
Moreland. This highly idealized image of domestic work bears
little resemblance to the reality of women's labor in the Schuyler
household, performed by enslaved women and girls.

Explaining this disparity is difficult, but there are several possibilities. The documents which preserve this information were written by Philip Schuyler, his sons, and their male business counterparts. Most of them are letters describing travel or transportation of goods between Albany and Saratoga. They are almost entirely devoid of discussion of domestic tasks and daily life in the home, which would have been largely administrated by Catharine herself. Unfortunately, only one of Catharine Schuyler’s letters has survived, and it makes no reference to the enslaved servants. This lack of documentation results in a historical silence regarding the labor of enslaved women - one which is very hard to break.

One example from family sources which indicates the differing spheres of male and female supervision of slaves comes from Johannes Van Rensselaer’s (the father of Catharine Van Rensselaer Schuyler) 1782 will which stipulated that his wife was to receive “one negro wench” and “a negro boy called Rob” upon his death. In this case the woman is unspecified because Mrs. Van Rensselaer was expected to choose who she wants to keep, however John specifies that she also keep Rob. Rob is described as a coachman, and his labor would have fallen under John’s supervision.

A 19th century Abolitionist print depicting the breaking of a family,
as an infant is sold away from their mother. While intended to arouse sympathy
for the enslaved, the raw emotion of the print captures the reality of too many
individuals who found themselves separated from their loved ones.

More often it is possible to perceive enslaved women in terms of their relationships with other people. For instance, Philip mentions to one of his children in a letter from 1782 that, “Your mama will strive with all in her power to procure you a good wench[.] They are rare to be met with, the two which I bought Last fall out of Charity, least [sic] their master… should dispose of them contrary to their inclinations, prove worthless in the extreams [sic].” While neither woman is mentioned by name, this tells us several things. First, that these two women had some sort of close relationship, be that mother and daughter, sisters, or simply close friends. Second, we know that this relationship was strong enough for them to indicate to Philip their desire not to be separated. Separation from loved ones was a common situation for enslaved New Yorkers, as the number of slaves owned by any one family was relatively small, “necessitating” the sale of family members away from each other.*

While the daily lives of the women enslaved by the Schuyler family may be hidden by scarce historical resources, even more so than for their male counterparts, by combining close readings of the existing sources with demographic records and a contextual understanding of the wider experiences of enslaved women, we hope to begin to uncover more information about their experiences in some of our upcoming articles. Stay tuned! In the meantime, make sure to check out other series on the restoration of the mansion, explore the fascinating face of the Revolutionary War in the Northern Department, explore our collections and documentary evidence, and challenge some longstanding myths with Mansion Mythbusters. What sorts of questions do you have about the lives of “the Servants”? Let us know in the comments!

For an examination of the amount of labor that went into tasks like laundry, click here to read an excellent interpretive piece from Woodville Plantation in Pennsylvania.

* To what degree Philip attempted to avoid this or not will be the topic of an upcoming article.

"In all Causes of Passion admit Reason to Govern": Questioning the Crafted Identity of our Founding Fathers

by Ian Mumpton

We were out of the office on Monday, so we missed a “This Day in History” Facebook post on the 27^th. This gives us the perfect excuse to turn that Facebook post into a short blog article! On February 27th, 1769 Henry Van Schaak of Albany wrote his brother a letter revealing a side of Philip Schuyler that one does not often see in the history books:

The dispute between Col. Schuyler and the brewer Anthony… was briefly this: the latter had said, at the Coffee House, that the aim of the Colonel’s motions in the House was popularity, and added something which I forget. The colonel immediately armed himself with his sword, went to the Coffee House and other public places thus arrayed. I saw him come in this manner into the house of Assembly, ‘tis said in search of Anthony, not meeting with him, he called upon his at his own house where [Anthony] says he asked [Schuyler’s] pardon.

We mentioned this letter a few weeks ago in a blog article on 18th century Colonial Swordsmanship (you can read it here), however today we will be discussing it as it relates to concepts of public perception and the crafting of an appropriate and refined identity in the late 18th century.

At the time of his death in 1804 (just three days shy of his 71st birthday), Philip Schuyler was a well-respected and highly esteemed gentleman, praised for his public service, sharp intellect, and cool, elevated demeanor. The announcement of his death described him as follows:

A man eminent for his useful labors in the military and civil affairs of our country…Among all those grand actors in the heroic history of our country whose shadowy outlines are now but faintly visible through the smoke of revolution and the haze of an intervening century surely none should be more proudly recognized than General Philip Schuyler… He was a practical not a theoretical statesman, an active not a visionary patriot. He was wise in devising, enterprising and persevering in the execution of plans of great and public utility. The death of such a man is truly a subject of private and of public sorrow.

For a man of Schuyler’s position, this carefully cultivated air of gentility was as important to his public presentation as his expensive clothing and elegant house. He was not alone; a moderated outward expression was considered a praiseworthy ideal by many of the landed gentry, who saw their behavior as a badge of good breeding and civility. As a young man, George Washington recorded his advice on proper behavior and etiquette, which included such maxims as, “Use no Reproachful Language against any one neither Curse nor Revile” and “Let your Conversation be without Malice or Envy, for 'is a Sign of a Tractable and Commendable Nature: And in all Causes of Passion admit Reason to Govern”.

Horatio Greenough's 1832 idealized depiction of Washington
conveys the sense of reserved authority and cool
gentility which Washington himself actively cultivated
in his daily activities.

Often, the popular image of our founding fathers is as calm and collected gentlemen, stern yet moderated in their every action, handing down our fundamental American legislation with benevolent tranquility. This is a crafted image however, both in its own time and today, as the ideal which these men evinced to the world replaces the intricacies of their human passions and motivations. For example, while Horatio Greenough sculpted Washington in majestic serenity a la Zeus himself, Washington was known for powerful outbursts of temper, one instance of which Alexander Hamilton cited as his reason for leaving Washington’s staff in February, 1781, to resume his field commission.

Philip Schuyler is reported to have been subject to even more violent rages. During the retreat from Ticonderoga in 1777, Chaplain Hezekiah Smith reported in his journal:

...Lord's Day and very awful Day on the Account of Gen. Schuyler's conduct who acted more like a mad Man than the Commander in Chief. He beat some of the Soldiers who were performing their duty. He cursed, damned swore, profaned the Name of God in a most horrible manner, and Swore by his Maker that if he could light of the Major of our Brigade [Peter Harwood] that he would split his Head Open and scatter his Brains about the Ground. He attempted to thurst [sic] an Officer thro', and afterwards made his brags of it, that it was happy for the Officer and unlucky for the service that he had not killed him, many particulars of like conduct.

While Smith’s account is anecdotal, it does raise the issue of perception. Men like Philip Schuyler or George Washington’s characters and personalities were perceived by different people in very different ways within their lifespans, both positively and negatively, and yet today only that image which they desired be projected to the public has survived in our collective imagination. The past is often used as a resource by the present, whether to understand our own experiences as part of a larger narrative or to influence our actions and perceptions based on our relationship with the past. Every time we ask ourselves, “What would our Founders think of ______?” we participate in this process. That is not necessarily a bad thing, in fact it can be an important and enlightening activity, but we must always remember that things are not always what they seem to be, and we cannot always take the public perception of the time to be an accurate reflection of an individual’s life or actions. As we explore our shared past, especially when we find that past a little bit too comforting, it is important to remind ourselves and each other to actively question those things we would maybe rather not. The answers may not necessarily need to change the overall narrative, but they will almost always yield a richer, more complicated story.