Long-ignored stories now begin to emerge
While researchers work, challenges of documentation and funding for historic sites in Capital Region persist
Decades ago, numerous homes across the Capital Region that were once inhabited by powerful white families were turned into museums; historic sites that would preserve the important history of the individuals who once lived there.
These include Historic Cherry Hill, Schuyler Mansion and Ten Broeck Mansion in Albany and the Crailo State Historic Site in Rensselaer, which trace their roots to some of the region’s most prominent Dutch Colonial ruling families: the Van Rensselaers, Ten Broecks and Schuylers.
But in recent years, researchers at those sites began to explore different stories: those of the Black people whose lives intersected with the residences, whether through enslavement, indentured servitude or employment of some nature.
“For a long time, this part of history was written out of history,” said Heidi Hill, historic site manager at Crailo and Schuyler Mansion, which are owned and run by the state. “History was curated by the people with power,
and certainly told the story as they wanted.”
Indeed, racism — both individual and systemic — has played a primary role in the ignored stories of Black people at these historic sites, researchers said. Jennifer Burns, a lecturer in Africana studies at the University at Albany, said the history of white immigrants has often taken precedence when it comes to funding and general public interest. Other times, it can be deemed unnecessary to do research on Black communities or issues more than once, she said, determining “enough” research has already been done.
“It’s just the reverberations of the impact of racism, systemically, on people’s priorities, and even their knowledge base,” Burns said.
The newfound interest in Black history at white historic sites in the Capital Region did not develop, for the most part, until about 2015.
The Crailo and Schuyler Mansion sites put together an exhibit about enslavement in New York; other sites, such as Cherry Hill, began going through its materials to uncover the stories of Black people and began digitizing them. It’s something that should have happened much sooner, historians say, but given the country’s history of dismissing and demeaning the importance and significance of the Black experience, the delay is not surprising.
“Now, of course, we see that diversity and equity need to be done differently — instead of people just talking about equality, we have shifted to an anti-racist platform of saying that equity is part of this,” Burns said. “So part of the equity movement is that people reconsider how they’re funding institutions to get at this information that helps us to better understand really how race relations have evolved over time, and to get more of the information that has been omitted — purposely or innocently.”
The work in recent years by the historic sites surrounding Albany has resulted in a clearer picture of the Black people who lived and worked there. Historians have looked at account books, receipts of payment, diaries and letters to piece together people’s stories. Here are three of them.
Roseanna Vosburgh: From slave to abolitionist
At the age of 20, Roseanna Vosburgh went from being enslaved in Columbia County to working as a paid house manager at one of Albany’s most prestigious residences: the Ten Broeck Mansion, home of Gen. Abraham Ten Broeck and his wife, Elizabeth Van Rensselaer, and, later, 19thcentury banker Thomas W. Olcott. Vosburgh worked for the Olcott family for 64 years, until her death.
But more significantly, Vosburgh spent her life serving her community. She was a prominent abolitionist involved with the movement to end enslavement before the Civil War. And after the war, she used her life savings to set up a trust for the “leading African American women of Albany” — likely widows.
“She’s transformative, she’s a leader,” said Kathryn Kosto, executive director of the Ten Broeck Mansion. “This is an area that we want to continue doing research on. People like Roseanna are often left out of history, so it’s harder to find evidence. But it doesn’t mean it’s not there — it’s just we have to look harder.”
Andries: An expert in equine care
In the year 1655, Andries was transported from his home of Curaçao in the southern Caribbean — where he was enslaved by the Dutch West India Company — to New Amsterdam (now New York City), where he was sold to a Van Rensselaer family member two years later. The Van Rensselaers emigrated from the Netherlands in the 16th century and claimed hundreds of thousands of acres of native lands around Albany as their own.
Andries was particularly valuable because of how skilled he was in horse husbandry — the veterinary care and breeding of horses. He was so talented in equine care that two Van Rensselaer brothers fought over him through letters for months. The brother who lived in the Netherlands had a horse infected with worms and wanted Andries sent to him to provide care for his horse.
“But the younger brother said, ‘Well, no, our elders here have advised me that I should not send him to a free country.’ Because slavery wasn’t allowed in the Netherlands,” Schuyler Mansion’s Heidi Hill said. “And so it would be ‘pure folly’ to send someone who not only is so skilled, but also is smart enough to know that he’s not going to be enslaved.”
In the end, Andries stayed. What became of him — when he died, where he’s buried, whether he had family in the U.S. — is not known.
James Knapp: A butler who later worked as a musician
Where Albany County’s office building stands, William James Knapp used to work, unpaid, as a
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butler for members of the Van Rensselaer family.
After his mother, Jane Jackson, died in childbirth, James and his sister Minnie were brought to Albany by the Van Rensselaers from their birthplace of Hudson. The children (James was 9) were divided between Van Rensselaer families upon their arrival, Minnie at Cherry Hill on South Pearl Street — where it is believed her great-grandmother Diana Jackson had been enslaved — and James at 112 State St.
For years, James worked as a butler for brothers Richard and Bernard Van Rensselaer. No receipts for payment have been found, suggesting James was unpaid, aside from being provided room and board. When the brothers died in 1880, James received an inheritance from them ($1,000 from Richard and a few hundred dollars from Bernard), but had to quickly pivot to find new employment and a new place to live.
The Van Rensselaers who lived at Cherry Hill quickly swooped in to find a new job for James, taking him to explore different opportunities including Hadley Music Store, where James is believed to have ultimately been hired.
James also became a musician (if he wasn’t one already). He played violin, flute and piano, and may have also played the banjo and guitar. Hundreds of scores of sheet music with James’ stamp have been discovered at Cherry Hill, as well as a gig book with evidence he performed at an infamous venue, Tweddle Hill, which was at the corner of State and North Pearl streets until it burned down in a fire in 1883. In addition to working at the music store and performing, James was an in-demand piano tuner in Albany.
James’ autonomy was short-lived, however. In 1885, he died after a prolonged battle with tuberculosis. James’ family lineage, researchers say, also offers a vivid picture of how gradual emancipation worked. The 1799 state law technically freed the children of enslaved people if they were born after July 4, 1799, but bound them to indentured servitude until they were young adults. When James’ grandmother, Dinah Jackson, was born to his enslaved great-grandmother, Diana Jackson, her labor was owed to her mother’s enslaver until the age of 26 per the agreement in the bill of sale for
Diana — continuing the enslavement to the next generation. Then Dinah stayed at Cherry Hill even after slavery in New York ended in 1827.
“What we kind of concluded is that she was 50 years old,” said Shawna Reilly, education coordinator at Cherry Hill, about Knapp’s grandmother staying with her owners even after slavery was abolished. “What were her other options, what kind of options do you think would be present to people like her?”
Challenges to historic sites
But while historians at sites work to document Black history, there are more challenges facing them including connecting with their surrounding communities, and raising the funds needed to continue the work.
Paul Stewart, co-founder of the Underground Railroad Center on Albany’s Livingston Avenue, noted a study that came out a few years ago that determined historic houses across the country are struggling and shouldn’t be prioritized anymore.
“I can certainly appreciate that from the standpoint of, what are the resources, etc.,” Stewart said. “But it’s sort of like,
now we finally get to the point where there are many developing African American historic sites around the country. And now these thinkers are wanting to say, ‘You know, you should do something different. We’re going to change the rules.’”
Stewart received $1.1 million in grants over 20 years to restore the historic site he established in 2004, which was once the residence of 19th-century Black abolitionists Harriet and Stephen Myers and served as a stop along the Underground Railroad. But Stewart said there were plenty of naysayers along the way.
Other historic sites often need funding not for restoration, but the manpower required to do the research. Uncovering Black history at these sites can present numerous challenges, historians said, including finding primary accounts from Black people — as many were illiterate at the time — and interpreting the subjective accounts of white people.
Engagement with their work is yet another struggle some historians face — especially trying to garner that interest from communities of color, considering the sites were originally established to glorify white families who, more often than not, enslaved Black people.
The Ten Broeck Mansion, which is situated in the predominantly Black neighborhood of Arbor Hill, is a museum that has been taking steps to bridge the gap and serve its community. Dayonna Bowles, an Arbor Hill native and former intern for the mansion, conducted a small study to gauge how the community perceived the mansion.
“It turned out to be what I called dismal results,” said Bowles, who is a fellow for the Mid Atlantic Arts Foundation.
Bowles surveyed 10 Arbor Hill and West Hill residents — and was turned away by many more — all of whom said they had not visited the mansion, did not know much about the mansion and did not believe the mansion contributed to the surrounding community. As a result, the leadership at the Ten Broeck Mansion has ramped up its engagement and outreach efforts, including knocking on neighbors’ doors, providing free children’s programs and planning the launch of an outdoor community center at the mansion.
“For me, the Black American struggle to survive and prosper in this country continues even as we sit here, February 2022. The patterns of racism and inequality established 100 years ago still persist,” Bowles said. “Within the museum world, it is our practice and responsibility to start conversation, discussion and dialogue. Conversation should be like a web of connections among the community.”