"The Noble North American Groundhog": Philip Schuyler's Underappreciated Engineering Inspiration

The guffaws of neither gentlemen of Agriculture nor polite Society, will ever shake me from my maintenance that the creature most Worth[y] of emulation & praise is the Noble north American Ground Hog.                                                                                                  -Philip Schuyler, to John Cadwalader, November 6^th, 1785

 

A groundhog, or woodchuck, outside of its burrow in Quebec.

While best-known as a general and politician, Philip Schuyler’s primary occupation over the course of his life was that of the “gentleman farmer”. Though he seldom labored in the fields himself, much of his time was taken up with the management of thousands of acres of farmland, the transport and sale of crops from that land, and the pursuit of more sophisticated scientific approaches to agriculture. It can be surprising to learn, therefore, that Schuyler could speak so highly of the North American woodchuck, or groundhog. And yet, the generational feud that has existed between farmers and groundhogs since the first crop was planted in North America notwithstanding, for Philip Schuyler, this creature held a fascination bordering on obsession.

In 1785, just as Cadwalader was helping to found the Philadelphia Society for the Promotion of Agriculture and Agricultural Reform, Philip Schuyler penned the words above. He went on to explain his appreciation of the groundhog, saying: 

Cadwalader and family, by Charles Wilson Peale

The greatest agrarian minds in New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and elsewhere have sought to best the groundhog, to no avail, and though they rant and rave to the point of apoplexy at the depredations done by this denizen of our fields and forests, neither the most inspired creations of their minds, nor the furor of all their vented spleen can scarce suffice to protect a single lettuce should this furred artificer of the soil select it for consumption... In their mannerisms they are neat and tidy, practicing good grooming and washing their faces in like manner to squirrels, cats, and rakecoons [sic] and the better sort of persons. They are as attentive to their young as the most doting parent, and cooperate with one another in the industrious construction of their sprawling domiciles or dens. Their patient procurement of foodstuffs against the harsh winter months ought be a measured example to the young and reckless Farmer who seeks to sell all he may with no thought to laying by a stock against want or poor markets, and their coats are markable [sic] soft and warm for a creature that lives so much of its life in the soil - more so than musk rats [sic], though not so suitable for hats as beaver when it was more plentiful. In short, while they may plague our crops and frustrate our ambitions at every turn, the ground hog is better regarded as a Teacher to men such as ourselves, rather than an Adversary.

Despite Schuyler’s reputation as a respected farm manager himself, Cadwalader was unconvinced, and said so to fellow progressive agriculturalist, George Logan in a letter just a few weeks later, on November 23rd:

…I have received another letter from Ph. Scuyler [sic] at Albany on the subject of Ground Hogs. I own the man is a self-taught genius on many matters relating to our Fields -should you pardon my punning- but to hear him write so much on the subject of this garden posst [sic- pest] strains credulity. How can this be the same man whose flax mills garner such praise?

From this letter, it seems that this was not the first time Schuyler had expounded upon the qualities of the woodchuck. In fact, evidence of his interest in the creature can be traced back to the 1750’s at least. According to Schuyler Mansion site director Heidi Hill, “Philip Schuyler long marveled over the engineering prowess of the groundhogs of NYS…first taking note of the groundhog’s genius as it relates to root and bolder support and bearing weight in an elaborate maze of woodchuck dens he discovered near Lake Oneida while stationed there during the French and Indian conflict.”

Philip Schuyler's proposed plan for the use of 
tunnels to seize French food supplies from the
storehouse, bakery, and gardens at Frontenac
as outlined on a British map of the fort.

Further evidence of his appreciation can likewise be traced to his early military service in a letter from Schuyler to his mentor, John Bradstreet. Bradstreet was one of the leading British military officers in North America. In 1758, Bradstreet was attempting to capture the vital French fortification at Frontenac, near modern day Kingston, Ontario. In laying plans for the anticipated siege, Philip Schuyler apparently looked to woodchucks for inspiration once again, suggesting that, “...should the French prove firm in their defense, hunger has a way of breaking men of their resolve. I propose that a team of sappers be employed at good rates as to instill a sense of expedition in them, that they might dig under the walls of the fortress and, locating the French food supplies, make off with them, as does the wily ground hog or, as the French in Canada call it, the siffleux.”

Bradstreet, however, elected not to take his protégé’s advice in this case, replying, “as to the ground hog plan, we have neither the men nor the time to undertake such a digging, and if we had, what cause would I have not to simply send in soldiers to effect a capture through these tunnels? I suggest we look to another animal for our guide in this matter, perhaps I might suggest a more martial creature?” Fortunately for the British, following a well-orchestrated campaign, Frontenac surrendered after a two-day siege.

Recently, further evidence has been found in Schuyler’s original plans for the construction of his Albany mansion. Visitors often ask if Philip Schuyler had a secret escape tunnel leading out of the home, in case of attack. While there is no evidence that it was ever constructed, his early notes on the project include a letter to his friend Abraham Ten Broeck in which Schuyler wrote, “As for the matter of selecting a plot upon which to situate the House I intend, it is best it be atop a hill, with a good view of the river, plenty of cultivatable land about it, and perhaps a stream for maintaining a mill. The soil must needs be firm enough for reliable construction, but not so stony as to preclude the digging of passages such as we have spoken of.”

It has always been assumed that the “passages” he referred to were for storage or some sort of unspecified industrial application, however, in January of 2022, archivists Jan Mack and Allan Dyssop found documents that radically altered our understanding of the process of designing the home: Philip Schuyler’s original, hand-sketched blueprints for what would become Schuyler Mansion. What they saw was surprising, to say the least!

According to Mack and Dyssop, “Philip Schuyler likely drafted these plans well before ever purchasing the plot of land on the hill overlooking the Dutch Reformed Church’s pastureland, so it is unsurprising that it differs significantly from the ultimate construction. The most notable change, however, really took us off guard. As you can see from the lines radiating off of the sides of the house, it appears that Schuyler saw his home as the hub of a vast system of underground tunnels connecting him to various locations in the city of Albany and the surrounding area. From his notes on the paper, it appears that his inspiration for this design was the burrow pattern of a woodchuck or groundhog.”[1]

Philip Schuyler's early vision for his estate, complete with groundhog-inspired subterranean passageways. The eventual construction was moved to the south side of the Beaverkill (shown at left), and the tunnel-plan was abandoned.

The locations connected by the tunnel system include the Dutch Church, Schuyler’s mother’s house, and the home of his friend Abraham Ten Broeck. While there are still many questions to answer, staff at Schuyler Mansion are excited. “This is just incredible,” says Ian Mumpton, historic site assistant, “I mean this is literally incredible information.”

Today is April 1^st, meaning reservations are now available for our April tour dates. Check out our Facebook page for more information about visiting the site this month, and we will hope to see you soon!

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Happy April Fools!

Yes, it’s that time again where we make stuff up, but as usual, the prank article contains references to plenty of fascinating real history! So, what's real?

To start with, Schuyler, Cadwalader, and Morgan were all prominent agriculturalists of their day, and leaders in the post-Revolutionary War effort to modernize and expand scientific agriculture in the early United States republic. You can learn more about the formation of the Philadelphia Society for the Promotion of Agriculture here and explore sources related to it here. You can also click here for sources about the New York Society for the Promotion of Agriculture, Arts, and Manufactures, the origin of the Albany Institute of History and Art. Founded in New York City in 1791, the organization moved from NYC to Albany in 1797, and their history is closely connected to the Schuyler family and the mansion! Similarly, Schuyler’s flax mills really were a key part of his agricultural empire, and garnered praise and awards in their day. (Check back soon for an article about the exhibit expansion currently in the works, that will include an opportunity for visitors to “talk” with a tenant laborer about what work was like in the flax mill!)

While Schuyler did not propose groundhog-related stratagems to his commander during the French and Indian war, he did serve with distinction under Bradstreet, and was involved in the logistics of military operations against the French colonial empire in Canada. He did traverse Oneida lake en-route to Oswego, and was involved in the campaign to capture of Frontenac. He knew the importance of supply lines intimately, and was well aware of how precarious an operation or defense could become without food! The map of Frontenac shown is real as well and can be viewed here (minus the added groundhog tunnels of course), courtesy of the Massachusetts Historical Society. The same source also includes maps of the defenses built at Oneida lake during the conflict, as well as Forts Stanwix, Ticonderoga, and Ontario, Schenectady and Albany, and many other locations Schuyler visited over the course of his service in the French and Indian war and the Revolution.

As we noted last year, Schuyler was close friends with Abraham Ten Broeck, and talked with him about many of his plans over the course of his life. “Brahm” was likely Philip’s closest friend, besides his wife Catharine, and had Philip intended to build a woodchuck warren beneath his mansion, would almost certainly have been roped into the plan. As it is, the thought of Philip Schuyler and his best friend sneaking off to the coffeehouse together through their secret tunnel must be written off as the product of an overactive imagination.

As some folks caught, we were “making this up” with archivist authors Mack and Dyssop. Similarly their editor, Anne Notherpun is another pun, and their publisher is in fact, not a real press (and therefore not located in the Pennsylvania town universally associated with Groundhog’sDay in the US). But while the names were nothing more than fun wordplay, the uncovering of old documents capable of shedding new light on old ideas is very real, and very topical, here at Schuyler Mansion. Whether through newly acquired or discovered documents, revisiting old sources with fresh eyes, or good old-fashioned historical sleuthing in pursuit of answers to new questions, we a constantly learning new information about the people whose histories are intertwined with Schuyler mansion. In fact, “What’s New?” is the theme for our social media this month. Be sure to follow us on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram to hear out about new discoveries, get the scoop on cutting edge research, and sneak a peek at upcoming exhibit content still in development!

As always, thank you to everyone who played along with our tradition. And remember, it is important to keep an open mind when exploring the past, because the truth is sometimes weirder than the fiction, but always make sure to check your sources, especially is the information seems particularly… incredible!

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[1] Mack, Jan, and Allan Dyssop. 2022. An Archival Analysis of Documents Relating to the Construction of Schuyler Mansion. Edited by Anne Notherpun. Punxsutawney, PA: Knott Ariel Press.

 

Women’s History Month Highlights

This March, we highlighted multiple women on our blog and Twitter feed. Below you can find some information about each woman and a link to learn more about them. 

Searching for Sylva: Life After Manumission What happened to Sylva and her three children when they were manumitted by Philip Schuyler’s sons and sons-in-law? Here we explore the possibilities of what life she may have built for herself in freedom. 

Mary Johnson: A Profile in Resistance What happened when Mary Johnson, a Loyalist who was married to one of Schuyler’s Loyalist enemies, was arrested and brought to Albany? Find out how she resisted her arrest in our Twitter thread. You can also read more about her in a previous blog post.

Margaret “Peggy” Schuyler van Rensselaer: A Profile in Intellect Due to her health, Margaret Schuyler van Rensselaer was often confined to her home while in her thirties, but that didn’t stop her mind from travelling. Learn about her childhood, adulthood, and love of learning in our Twitter thread. 

Mary Carpenter: A Profile in Survival (TW: Sexual Assault) Mary Carpenter was only seventeen when John Bradstreet Schuyler, Philip Schuyler’s eldest son, forever changed her life. While the specifics are unclear, Mary was put in a position where she had to fight for the survival of her reputation, home, and self. Learn more about her in our Twitter thread. 

Bet: A Profile in Agency and Injustice (TW: Abuse and Capital Punishment) Bet was just sixteen or seventeen when she became part of one of Albany’s most infamous events: The Fire of 1793. Why she helped set the fire is unclear, but her testimony was incredibly detailed. Learn more about her, the agency she expressed, and the injustice she faced in our Twitter thread. 

Do you want to keep learning about the women of Schuyler Mansion? We’ve got you covered! We have an entire section on our blog dedicated to them. Posts range from the 18th century Schuylers to the Schuylers who helped turn the home into a historic site, from the women the Schuylers enslaved to the Loyalists in the Schuylers’ lives. We’re always adding new blog posts, so keep an eye out for new content by following us on here Blogspot, Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube! 

A Hundred Leagues I’d Walk to My Love: Philip Schuyler’s Musical Courtship of Catharine van Rensselaer

***The article that follows was written as Schuyler Mansion's annual April Fools post. Unfortunately, Philip Schuyler did not write the music that would eventually become "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)". Thank you to everyone who played along!***

“But I would walk 500 miles And I would walk 500 more just to be the man who walked a 1000 miles to fall down at your door!” With the rhythmic guitar, heartfelt lyrics, and captivating Scottish accents, who can resist the Proclaimers 1988 hit “I’m Gonna Be”, better known in the US as “500 Miles”? But did you know that the Reid brothers found their inspiration for the song in a piece written by an earlier composer? As it turns out, this composer was none other than our very own Philip Schuyler!

Cover art of the 1988 album Sunshine on Leith,
which included the hit "I'm Gonna Be".

It can be jarring to think of the stern, aristocratic Philip Schuyler as a young musical heartthrob, but letters from Philip’s late teenage years indicate that he briefly took up music, not as a career, but as a way to win the love of the beautiful and elegant Miss Catharine van Rensselaer, or, as Philip referred to her in a letter to his friend Abraham Ten Broeck, “Sweet Kitty VR”. In fact, it was while pining for “Sweet Kitty” during a trip to Quebec that Philip composed a musical arrangement he titled “A Hundred Leagues I’ll Walk for My Love”.

The first evidence of this song comes from a letter written by Schuyler to Abraham Ten Broeck. While the date on the letter is illegible, it must have been written on a trip to Quebec Philip took prior to the outbreak of the French and Indian, or Seven Years, war, likely in 1753. There to discuss a potential business arrangement with Scottish merchant Angus McGonagle (himself no stranger to musical performance), the young man found his mind focused more on romance than finance.

My Dear Brahm; 

Matters here progress but so slowly that I fear it will be two weeks more be fore [sic] I return to Albany. I am whistful [sic] for your companionship and all our happy company there. I trust you will not think that I undervalue our friendship tho if I tell you that my mind and heart turn moment after moment to a certain young lady, the identity of whom I am certain you will guess at. You must not laugh at me Brahm to hear that I have put those thoughts of her into music, thoughts that I might demonstrate the fondness of my heart for hers by walking, without pause, the full hundred leagues and more between us, resting only when I fall down at her door. But music on paper cannot compair [sic] to music on the ear, and so I hope that you will accompany me on your violoncello, along with our two friends so we make a quartet. I esteem my self a poor composer, but I hope that this will make my affections for her evident in ways mere words cannot…

 Philip included the sheet music with his letter; an arrangement for violins, viola, and cello, that has a very familiar sound to it. We do not know if he, Abraham, and their unnamed friends ever ended up performing for Catharine, but not long after this letter was sent, Philip and Catharine were married, and had their first child, Angelica, just five months later. The sparks of romance were definitely bright for these two!

Philip and Catharine Schuyler in later life

According to music historian Dr. Emma Jennery, Craig and Charlie Reid ran across Philip's letter and music in late 1987 in a book about Scottish musicians (in relation to Angus McGonagle's career). As explained by Dr. Jennery in an unrecorded broadcast for BBC Scotland, “Craig and Charlie so often tap into the confluence of place and emotion, drawing on timeless inspiration and interpreting it through their iconic sound. They knew they had something there, with Philip Schuyler’s evocative phrasing about wanting to walk that hundred leagues from Quebec to Albany (the one on New York that is), only to fall down at her [Catharine’s] door. They gave his composition the lyrics it deserved and presented it for a modern audience.” Click here to listen to the Wedding String Quartet perform their rendition of “A Hundred Leagues I’d Walk to My Love”, known to the world today as “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)”

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Happy April Fools! As you might have guessed, Philip Schuyler is not the composer behind the Proclaimer's hit, but at least you have it playing through your head again? As is tradition for us, however, we put a lot of real historical content and references into the post. The inspiration for the whole thing came from a letter that Philip Schuyler wrote to his daughter Elizabeth in 1799, in which he made reference to youthful dancing and strolls around Albany.

Abraham Ten Broeck and Philip Schuyler really were childhood friends who maintained a closeness throughout their adult lives. Philip was even initially buried in the Ten Broeck family vault in 1804. The "possible date" for the letter was chosen based on when young Ten Broeck would have returned from a year-long trip to Europe in 1752, and the outbreak of the French and Indian War, or Seven Years War, in 1754. Philip did write to Ten Broeck often, and the reference to "Sweet Kitty VR" comes directly from one of their real-life letters.

So far, there is no known evidence for Philip Schuyler possessing much musical talent or ability, but he certainly encouraged it in his children, especially as part of his daughters' educations. Eliza and Caty are both noted for their skill on the pianoforte, some of their brothers played the flute, and Angelica is believed to have played the parlor guitar. Quartet arrangements were popular in the 1750's, in large part due to the work of composer Joseph Haydn (himself only a year older than Philip). While Philip did not (as far as we know) compose or play music to woo Catharine, the dancing reference in his letter to Elizabeth has been read as an allusion to his early courtship of Catharine. In either case, their relationship does seem to have been as passionate as described here- Philip included frequent attestations of affection in correspondence, and Angelica's birthdate fell well shy of the nine-month-mark from her parents' wedding date.

While Philip Schuyler never did business with Angus McGonagle, the argyle gargoyle who gargles Gershwin gorgeously in season 4 of the Muppet Show, he did work from a young age to develop a broad network of mercantile contacts, both locally and farther afield. This would include trips to Canada throughout his life, as well as New York City, and even a trans-Atlantic voyage to England and Ireland less than a decade after this supposed letter was sent.

Lastly, Dr. Emma Jennery is, in fact, imaginary, but her description of the Proclaimers' music is accurate- many of their songs use emotionally evocative language tied to a specific place or community to tell a story of longing for home and loved ones far away. Year round, staff at Schuyler Mansion are committed to telling all of the many stories that make up our site, both the more familiar ones of the Schuyler family, and those that have received less attention in the past. This commitment to sharing a fuller narrative is apparently something that we share with the Proclaimers as well!

So thanks for reading, and remember...

Searching for Silva: Life After Manumission

By Jessie Serfilippi

The Dutch Church in Albany, as seen from Market Street,
circa 1805, just a year after Silva and her children
were manumitted.

On December 15, 1804, seven people: Tone, Stephen, Pheobe, Silva, Tallyho, Tom, and Hanover, were “for ever [sic] set free” and granted “their full free manumission emancipation and freedom from the day of the date hereof, fully, freely, and absolutely.” These men, women, and children had been enslaved by Philip Schuyler, but manumitted less than a month after his death by his executors, who consisted of his sons, Philip Jeremiah Schuyler and Rensselaer Schuyler, and sons-in-law, John Barker Church and Stephen Van Rensselaer III (who continued to enslave people themselves).

Often, modern discussions of slavery focus on, or even end with, manumission and freedom, but for many, including the seven individuals listed above, freedom from slavery was not a “happy ending.” It was the beginning of the next phase of their stories, full of its own difficulties and opportunities.

A newly manumitted individual faced many challenges. Perhaps the three most universal and potentially daunting were finding family members they had been separated from by their enslavers, finding employment or other means to support themselves and their families, and in many cases, enduring the stipulations placed on their freedom by their former enslavers. To get a sense of how those challenges might have impacted Silva, who we have little definite documentation of, let’s take a quick look at Susannah Roseboom (who you can read about in more detail here), another freed-woman living in Albany at the same time, whose story is well-documented.

Susannah and her three daughters were enslaved by the Ten Broecks and were separated from her husband and their father, Peter Roseboom. Susannah was manumitted by Elizabeth Ten Broeck in 1810, but with stipulations (such as cleaning for her every week without promise of pay) she had to fulfill in order to stay manumitted. These stipulations could have made finding the steady employment Susannah needed to support her children difficult, if not impossible. Her husband was manumitted upon his enslaver's death in 1811, probably allowing them to live together and strengthening her support system. It wasn’t until Elizabeth’s death in 1813 that Susannah was truly free.

Susannah’s resilience, not only in the face of slavery, but in navigating the stipulations put on her freedom by Elizabeth Ten Broeck after manumission, her separation from her husband, and raising her children in that scenario, reflects the broader situation faced by many formerly-enslaved people as New York moved slowly toward ending slavery.

This woman is believed to be Dinnah
Jackson, painted by James Eights.

Susannah and her family were also members of an active Black community in early 19^th century Albany, consisting of both free and unfree families and individuals. On the Albany census of 1800, there are over 140 people of African descent listed, with at least 25 free households. Some of the heads of household mentioned include Jack Jackson, John Top, and William Pepper. Other prominent members of the free community included Dinnah Jackson, Elizabeth Simpson Pepper, Benjamin Lattimore, and Samuel Schuyler.[i]

On the same census, there are over 500 enslaved people listed. With Philip Schuyler’s death still four years away at the time of that census, Silva, Tally Ho, Tom, and Toby were among the nameless enslaved people recorded only as a number in their enslaver’s household.

It is possible Silva knew many of the free and enslaved men and woman from church services, a major social hub in the community at that time, as well as through possible familial ties and friendships. In many baptismal records from the same era, both free and enslaved people served as sponsors for each other’s children. This speaks to the close ties between people enslaved in different households and free Black individuals and families.

With this backdrop in mind, it is possible to piece together some potential elements of Silva’s life. A receipt from 1797 possibly gives us the best window into Silva’s family situation. That year, Silva, Tally Ho, Tom, and Toby were purchased by Philip Schuyler on July 21^st. While we know Tally Ho and Tom were Silva’s children, it is unclear if Toby was related to them, but it is possible he was Silva’s partner and Tally Ho and Tom’s father.

In 1798, Schuyler enslaved three men, one boy, three women, and two girls in Albany. On a paper titled “List of Slaves belonging to Ph: Schuyler resident within the limits of the tract granted to the corporation of the city of Albany,” it’s noted that of the above people, one woman was over fifty years old, and the three children were under the age of twelve. There were two women under the age of fifty and three men under the age of fifty. The identity of the woman over fifty is currently unknown. The two woman under the age of fifty were likely Silva and Pheobe, one of the men was Toby, another man was Anthony (also known as “Tone” on the manumission record, and “Toney”), and the third man could have been Stephen, who was manumitted in 1804, but not previously mentioned in any letters, or Lisbon, who was last mentioned in a letter in 1795. Two of the children must have been Tally Ho and Tom, who were under the age of twelve in 1798, while the identity of the third child is currently unconfirmed.

In 1804, when Silva and her three children were manumitted, only Hanover’s age is definite. He was born on August 31, 1800, making him four when his family was manumitted. If Schuyler correctly recorded that Tally Ho and Tom were under twelve in 1798, that means at the youngest, Tally Ho was nine and Tom eight when they were manumitted. At the oldest, Tally Ho was seventeen and Tom sixteen. They’re described as “infant children” on the manumission record, but it was their enslaver’s sons and sons-in-law who were writing the document. This means their true ages are up for speculation, especially given that even the ages of eight and nine would not be considered “infant” by any means. Sylva was described as “about thirty years.”

Toby does not appear on the manumission form. There could be multiple reasons for this, but based on documentation from Philip Schuyler, it seems likely that Toby died before 1804. In 1802, Schuyler writes to Alexander Hamilton “My coachman Toby is very Much Indisposed.” He states Anthony will serve as the coachman. While Anthony, still referred to as a coachman, appears in at least one later letter, Toby is never mentioned again. 

An image of the letter from Philip Schuyler to Alexander Hamilton in which Toby is mentioned for the final time.

We can best determine that Silva, in her thirties, had a toddler, two children under the age of seventeen, and possibly no partner when she was manumitted. This placed her in a similar position to Susannah Roseboom, but unlike Susannah, there were no documented conditions placed on her freedom.

Based on several surviving records, there is a strong possibly that at least Silva, if not her children as well, stayed in Albany. In 1820, a woman of her age named "Sylva Zeben" was listed as head of a household on Albany’s 1820 census. In her household were two boys under fourteen, a boy or man between the ages of 14 and 25 (possibly Hanover), one girl or woman aged 14 to 25, a woman aged 26 to 44 (possibly Tally Ho), and a woman over the age of 45, which Silva would have been by 1820. While helpful, this record alone is not enough to prove Silva or her children stayed in Albany. By pairing this census with other documents, the case for Silva staying in Albany becomes feasible.

An image of the 1820 census. Underlined in red is "Sylva Zeben" (Zebra?).

In 1832, a woman named Silva Zebra was listed in Child’s Albany Directory as a fortune teller working at 26 Washington Avenue. She appeared in the following directory at the same address, and in 1834 moved to “rear 165 South Pearl.”

Possibly Silva's name, profession, and address as it appeared in the 1832-1833 edition of Child's Albany Directory.

Silva Zebra was also listed on the Albany census of 1840 as head of household, with one free girl under the age of 10, another aged 10 to 25, two free women aged 35 to 55, and one woman, who would be Silva, between the ages of 55 and 100. This census, the multiple entries of her employment in the Albany directory, and the 1820 census (“Zeben” could be a misspelling or mis-transcription of “Zebra”), create the possibility that Silva did stay in Albany, maybe with some of her children.

An image of the 1840 census. Underlined in red is "Silva Zebra."

It also appears to be possible the same Silva briefly took the last name “Bristo” from at least 1830-1832. In the two Albany directories covering the years 1830-1832, a “Sylvia Bristo,” a fortune teller working on Washington Avenue, is listed.

Possibly Silva's name as it appeared in the 1830-1831 edition of The Albany Directory.

This is just one possibility for the path Silva took upon manumission. There are other possible avenues Silva may have taken as well. She may have worked for Philip Jeremiah, who hired multiple free Black workers by 1820 according to that year’s census. At least one of the free women was within the same age range as Silva, and possibly within Tally Ho’s age range as well.

No matter what she did after she was manumitted, through her resilience, she built a life for herself and her children. Staying in Albany suggests a support network that may have helped her find employment, a place to live, and given her the ability to own a household by 1820. By the 1830s, if not earlier, she may have had her own business as a fortune teller.

We may never be able to definitively tell Silva, Tally Ho, Tom, Hanover, and Toby’s stories with the same level of specificity as the Schuylers. Even without that level of detail, telling Silva’s story and exploring how she may have asserted her agency is important. We are continuing our research on Silva and her children in the hopes of finding out even more about them in the future.

Thank you to Julie O’Connor of Friends of Albany History for bringing the entries regarding the woman who is possibly Silva in the Albany directories to my attention. You can visit Friends of Albany History here.

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[i] It should be noted that both Benjamin Lattimore and Samuel Schuyler’s names are not on the 1800 census, highlighting the fact that while censuses can be helpful tools, they are not always accurate and are best used in combination with other sources.

The Humble Petition of Prince: Navigating Agency Within Enslavement

 By Ian Mumpton

The following article was written following new research on Prince, conducted in 2020 during NYS On PAUSE. As much as staff at Schuyler Mansion are dedicated to, and enjoy, offering engaging public programming, NYS On PAUSE not only helped ensure the safety of visitors and staff, but afforded us the opportunity to dig deeper into the rich, complex history of this site and the people who were here.

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Prince as portrayed in a video
in the Schuyler Mansion
Visitors Center

Of the more than forty people of African descent enslaved by Philip and Catharine Schuyler, a man named Prince has, for many years, held prominence in the interpretation of slavery and the enslaved at Schuyler Mansion. This is due, in large part, to the fact that the details of his life during the time he was enslaved by the Schuylers are better documented than are those of most of the other men, women, and children the Schuylers enslaved. He is regularly mentioned in the personal correspondence of the family, and even served as a common reference point for Philip Schuyler and John Jay when the two used his name as the key to decrypting their encoded messages during the Revolutionary War.

Yet as much his name has stood out in the documentary record, Prince has been the subject of far more questions than answers. One of the most basic of these is how did he end up enslaved in Albany in the first place? Despite a series of letters detailing the specifics of the financial transaction that led to his enslavement by the Schuylers, it is only recently that a fuller picture of his story and situation have emerged.

Prior to enslavement by the Schuylers, Prince was enslaved by a Mr. Alexander MacCulloch. MacCulloch was not your common businessman, rather, he was the Deputy Quartermaster General of Quebec, an important player in the British war effort. While Prince is not, to our current knowledge, documented prior to his arrival in Albany, we can trace Prince’s story and his path to Albany through his much better-documented enslaver.

The autumn of 1775 was one of high hopes for Major General Philip Schuyler, as the forces of the Northern Department prepared to secure British positions at Saint-Jean, Montreal, and Quebec. In late October, Fort Chambly fell to the rebels, along with ninety prisoners of war. Among them was Commissary MacCulloch, who joined other “Men of Rank in Canada”, as described by General Montgomery following the surrender of Saint-Jean, as a prisoner of the Continentals.

Fort Chambly in 1863, William Notman (1826-1891)

Prince’s presence with MacCulloch on the front lines of the conflict can give us insights into Prince as an individual. The services Prince performed for MacCulloch were important enough to MacCulloch that he considered Prince’s presence at the fort essential. Prince was likely a personal attendant to MacCulloch, assisting him with travel, dress and hygiene, and possibly even some secretarial work. Later, Prince seems to have been in close attendance upon Philip Schuyler in a similar capacity, and suggestions of Prince’s literacy can be found throughout Schuyler documents, including a 1791 letter in which Philip indicates that Prince may have reviewed the letter and reminded him to request boards from his son, John Bradstreet Schuyler.

His connection to a prominent military figure and businessman in Quebec raises the possibility that Prince was at least bilingual. His birthplace is unrecorded, but if he was born in Africa, as an adult he may have spoken one or more African languages, and/or possibly Arabic. We know from later sources that Prince spoke fluent English, but he might have spoken French as well. Whether he was born in Africa, the Caribbean, or in Quebec itself, he could easily have been exposed to French at a young age. This skill would have made him especially useful to MacCulloch, given the number of both English-speakers and French-speakers in MacCulloch’s social and professional interactions in Quebec. Philip Schuyler himself considered fluency in French an essential social and professional accomplishment.

American General Washington and valet William Lee
near the Hudson River- John Trumbull, 1780

Prince’s presence at Chambly is also a reminder of the agency denied to the enslaved. Prince went anywhere MacCulloch ordered—even into a warzone. A similar scenario would take place in 1777, when Philip Schuyler sent a man named Tom and another unnamed enslaved servant to sift through the ashes of his Saratoga estate for iron, while skirmishing fire was still being exchanged between Crown and Separatist forces following the Battles of Saratoga. John Trumbull's portrait of George Washington at West Point included a portrait of Washington's enslaved valet, William Lee, who accompanied the general throughout the Revolution.

By the end of December 1775, the campaign into Canada was rapidly crumbling, and Revolutionary forces slowly began a months-long process of retreat, back toward Crown Point and Fort Ticonderoga. MacCulloch and Prince, however, had already begun their journey southwards in late November, following a decision by the Continental Congress to transport prisoners from Chambly and Saint-Jean to other colonies. While some were imprisoned in Pennsylvania, others, including MacCulloch, would end up as prisoners in New Jersey.

Edited map of Lake Champlain, with Fort Chambly circled in red at the extreme left.
Prince and MacCulloch likely began their journey by water along this route.

By late January or February, Prince and MacCulloch had travelled roughly 250 miles to reach Albany. For Prince at least, the journey had been arduous in the extreme. Unequipped for a winter journey when they were captured in October, and unsupplied by either his captors or enslaver with the necessary clothing or blankets, Prince was in poor health, freezing cold, unable to walk, and facing nearly 200 miles more on the route to Princeton NJ, where MacCulloch was to be held. While MacCulloch was a person of interest to the Revolutionaries, Prince was not, but because he was enslaved, he would have to accompany MacCulloch regardless. In the face of this seeming utter absence of agency or options, Prince made a bold move. He sent a letter.

On February 5^th or 6^th, 1776, Catharine Schuyler received the following:

To the Honourable Lady Schuyler-

The Humble Petition of Prince the Negro belonging to Mr. MacCulough [sic]-

Most Humbly showeth that as your Petitioner is in the greatest distress… & has quite lost the use of my limbs with cold for want of Cloaths [sic] or Blanket- so to inform your ladyship that I wrote to his Excellency the General received no intelligence of My Being Released from my long & miserable confinement. I am very willing to go to work for his Excellency the General at any sort of employ or any of the Inhabitants in the Town for my vituals [sic] & Cloaths [sic]. Therefore I Humbly Beg your Ladyship would be so Good as to intercede with His Excellency for me and Get me Released as I am Informed My Master Mr. McCulough is in Remedy and for your Great & Bountious [sic] Goodness I Shall be as in duty Bound ever Pray.

Prince the Negro

Whether the letter was in his own hand or not has been long debated. It has been suggested that a clerk wrote the letter on his behalf. While this is certainly possible, this interpretation assumes that, as an enslaved man, Prince was illiterate. While literacy was less common amongst the enslaved at the time, it was by no means an unheard-of skill. Africa was the home to a wealth of literary traditions, and those traditions sometimes survived the transatlantic trade well into the 19th century. Others, whether born here or captured and transported across the sea, acquired literacy as a skill in the Americas.

Further, the theory that the letter was written for him also assumes that Prince would be able to solicit the assistance of a literate person, whether a clerk or someone else. Given his status as the enslaved servant of a British POW, with no known local contacts or the means to recompense an assistant, his ability to find someone willing to help him is arguably as much a matter of speculation as is his literacy, if not more so. In either case, a little more than a month later, MacCulloch sent a letter to Philip Schuyler, dated March 20^th, 1776, to convey that, “…he [MacCulloch] has sent him [Schuyler] the Negro man Prince together with the Bill of Sale. The General will be so kind as to make it known to the Negro that he is now his property…”

Philip Schuyler purchased many enslaved people over the course of his life, so transactions like this are all too common in Schuyler documents. What makes this exchange so poignant is that, whether he held the pen in his hand or not, it was Prince, and not his former or future enslavers, who initiated the process that would end with his sale to Philip Schuyler. Faced with a “no-win” scenario, he had the options of continuing a life-threatening journey with MacCulloch or of finding someone in Albany, whether the Schuylers or another household, to purchase his continued bondage. He pursued the latter option, a choice that would be safer, at least in the short term, to his life, but which meant he would likely never be reunited with any friends or loved ones in Quebec. In either case, Prince recognized that his options to escape slavery were nonexistent at that moment--he was in unfamiliar territory, imprisoned, and physically unable to walk any distance for an unknowable amount of time. Up against an institution that denied his agency and humanity, Prince found a way to exert both from within the system.

Prince died at some point in the 1790s. In 1897, Katherine Schuyler Baxter, great- granddaughter of Philip and Catharine Schuyler, set out the recollections of her own grandmother, little Catharine, youngest of the Schuyler children, in a book titled A Godchild of Washington. In it, she presents a heavily romanticized view of slavery in the Schuyler household, but the only enslaved person Baxter describes by name is Prince. While Baxter’s description is deeply rooted in the racist narrative of the “happy, loyal slave”, it is striking that approximately a hundred years after his death, the memory of Prince still resonated in later generations of the family.

While Baxter’s work can be a valuable source of information in certain respects, it presents Prince’s memory as a memory of service, both the service he performed for Philip Schuyler, and a memory put to the service of glossing over Schuyler’s complicity in an inhumane practice. There is little that it tells us about him as an individual that we can embrace without a large grain of salt. In short, Baxter describes Prince the servant. The story that emerges with the details of Prince’s experiences in 1775 and 1776, on the other hand, gives us a much better picture of Prince the man, restoring some aspects of his own identity to that memory.

Preparing for Twelfth Night

 

Thank you to Ella and Kate Weller for creating these fabulous slides for us! If you want to see Kate's tutorials on how to make a Twelfth Night cake click here and here. You can read our blog post about the creation of Twelfth Night here, one with three eighteenth century cookie recipes for you to try out here, and a one with a Twelfth Night cake recipe here.

Template for Twelfth Night Crown

Here is the template to create your very own Twelfth Night crown! Copy the image below and size it to fit an 8x11 sheet of construction paper. You can see our video with instructions here.