I wanted to challenge myself for my analog experiment by working on an analog task for a week. Additionally, I wanted to write this blog post on one of the original forms of writing: a typewriter.

Please enjoy this attempt and its many mistakes in spelling.

Isabella Barcher

Most mornings I wake up to a bombardment of notifications from a variety of news apps—the New York Time, Le Monde, Al Jazeera, etc. The most pressing headlines, the most pertinent news that one must know. I typically scroll through the national and world news, starting my day off with a nice healthy dose of existential dread. Later in the evenings, I’ll take a walk while listening to current events podcasts, typically in French to improve my language skills.

One could say I’m a tad too dependent on digital media, especially when it comes to news. And so I decided to spend a few days buying and reading a physical newspaper. 

My analog journey began on Tuesday. It was a beautiful, sunny, 60 degree day, completely normal for the middle of November in the North East (ha-ha). I asked my roommate where I could find a physical copy of a daily newspaper since I embarrassingly had little idea. They recommended I go to the gas station, and so that’s what I did; strolling off campus, crunching fallen gold leaves, listening to Janis Joplin, and contemplating the Earth’s warming.

The gas station only sells the Daily News during the week, shaking things up from my usual my usual New York Times read. It was a whopping $3.00, although it seemed like the cashier made the price up on the spot after a confused pause. I figured he probably was not used to college kids walking into the small store to buy the Daily News rather than a pack of White Claws.

I read the paper on my walk back to campus. I read all the articles in the news section, flipping haphazardly through sports and entertainment. Reading the physical paper proved to be better for remembering the smaller details; even writing this post days later, I can still recall which counties are currently under a drought warning in New York State, something I would never remember if I had read the article online. With reading digital news, my eyes seem to skip over certain information, latching onto the most “important” details that I want to remember. Each individual word of the physical newspaper captured my attention; they were part of a greater hole, no longer just black signs on a glowing screen.

The next day brought the newest issue of the New Paltz Oracle, thankfully saving me from the walk to the gas station. I came to realize how much I enjoy flipping through a physical paper, being able to smell the pages the same way I enjoy the smell of old, dusty books. Although I have preferred physical books over downloads on a Kindle or phone for years, I never considered I would feel the same with reading the news.

The final day of my experiment it rained. All day. No longer could I appreciate the warm fall scenery and crisp air; I dramatically trudged to the gas station, the $3.00 charge for the Daily News seeming much more detrimental this time around. I was generally cranky that day, and this journey seemed to make matters worse. What was the point, I wondered, of walking through the rain to get an overpriced paper that didn’t even tell me half of the information available for free on my phone?

I typically find issues with the increasingly digital world, feeling nostalgic for humanity’s dependance on analog experiences. I refuse to use Elfster for Secret Santa, I opt for buying things in person rather than ordering online. But my romanticized vision of the analog world took a blow with this experiment; never have I been more grateful for the option to have an insane amount of media available to me at the press of a button.

Admittedly, I still used my news apps during this experiment. While I did appreciate getting local and state news in the physical paper, I couldn’t give up my access to national and world events, especially not now. I am incredibly grateful to be privileged enough to have access to the internet, and even more so to a walkable town where I have enough money to buy a newspaper (plus a half and half iced tea on occasion). I did appreciate the experience of buying a physical paper, but until I have my own house and enough money to get the New York Times delivered every Sunday, I will stick with my digitized and wonderfully convenient news.

At the end of October, the Pokemon Company released a new mobile game called Pokemon TCG Pocket. For fellow nerds such as myself, this game is very fun to play since it incorporates the collecting and battling portions of the TCG (trading card game), but in a more condensed and fast paced version. My favorite part of the game is battling because I love the thrill of trying to predict and counter my opponent, so for my analog experiment I chose to play a full game of the TCG with a few of my friends. 

Almost immediately after making the plan, I got hit with obstacles. First, a real TCG deck consists of 60 cards while a deck in the mobile game consists of 20. Although I have a lot of physical cards, it was very difficult to build a cohesive deck. For example, I knew I wanted to build a deck around Charizard (my favorite Pokemon), but I didn’t have enough copies of Charmander or Charmeleon to fit the mold of a deck. In the mobile game, I could have easily traded in some “pack points” for the cards I needed, but in the real world, I would have had to buy the cards as singles online. The second big issue I had was that I didn’t know the rules for a full-length battle (and neither did my friends). In the game, battles are designed so that they are between 5-10 minutes on average. If you have a question about what is happening or what you can do during your turn, the game will let you know. When we were battling with physical cards, we had to constantly open Google to figure out certain rules and technicalities. 

Although it was a pain to set up and actually play, it was far more enjoyable than the mobile game for two big reasons. The first one being that I could actually put a face to my opponent and interact with him. Any actions or reactions during a turn were not confined to the limitations of my thoughts, but could be expressed with words and actions. For example, my friend “paralyzed” my Pokemon for 3 consecutive turns so I cursed him out. Obviously, it wasn’t a personal or aggressive remark, but simply a reaction that we could laugh over as friends. If I were to have a similar reaction while playing the mobile game, people would think that I’m out of my mind. 

The second reason the game was more enjoyable to play physically was because I could have a conversation with the people/person I’m hanging out with. Since we only used our phones to check the rules, the only way we could distract ourselves and lower the tension of the battle was by having a conversation. There was no pressure from the in-game timer or voices in my head debating what my next move to be. These things were instead replaced by nostalgia and laughter. The flow of the battle was natural, and I think the personalities of each of us were apparent in our method of playing. I was more defensive and analytical, my friend (Michael) was more focused on playing the offensive, while my other friend (Kevin) was just playing for the vibe. The first match we played was between Michael and I, and it lasted 47 minutes with the final score being 6 – 4, where I had 6. The second battle was between Kevin and I, and it lasted 23 minutes with the final score being 6 – 2, where I had 6. The third battle was between Kevin and Michael, and it ended after 52 minutes of gameplay with the final score being 6 -5 in favor of Michael. The final battle was between Michael and I, and it lasted 72 minutes with the final score being 6 – 4 (again) in my favor.

Conducting this experiment was definitely enjoyable and had its pros and cons. However, I learned and realized a few things while playing. The first is my reliance on digital technology. Although a mobile battle is different from a physical battle, there is a lot of overlap. Despite the mobile game being the app I currently use the most, I could only remember a thing or two about the rules of battle. I realized that the only reason I know how to play the game is because the game corrects me if I’m wrong. While writing this blog, I noticed a similar trend. Although I know how to spell and write sentences, I rely heavily on autocorrect and the red/blue squiggle to pick up my slack. Another thing I noticed is I get easily distracted when I do anything on a screen. When I play the mobile game, I tend to hop in and out of different apps (such as Instagram) in between battles. While doing work on my laptop, I have the habit of Googling any random thought that comes to my mind. During the analog battle, there was no temptation to get up and do something else. Rather, my senses/mind were too busy processing and responding to what was happening in real time. 

In class, we discussed how objects can become an extension of our minds. Throughout this experiment, I realized that digital technology has become an extension of me. I personally like to be in complete control of everything that I can control, so this realization spooked me out a bit, but then I realized that this extension is only ever useful if I make it useful. I find this thought interesting, and I plan on exploring it further.

Every day, I practice my religion and connect with God through reading scripture and prayer. Though I own a Bible, and have read directly from it quite a bit, it doesn’t leave its shelf during my prayer time. From the comfort of my bed, usually right before I sleep, I open a Bible app on my phone that provides me with a daily verse from the Bible, a video explaining the verse, and guided prayers. I’m also able to collect my thoughts for my own prayer by typing out what I want to communicate with God. In a world where technology has made seemingly everything more convenient than before, even things that weren’t inconvenient to begin with, even time with God has been digitized. 

For my analog experiment, I wanted to turn away from my screen and look back into my many physical religious books I have stacked on my shelves. I turned towards the book Jesus Calling by Sarah Young to provide me with a daily verse, which led me into my Bible to find it. Flipping through my Holy book, I found the verse- 2 Corinthians 9:15: “Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!”. Instead of watching a video of someone talking to me about the verse, I read Young’s explanation of how we can receive God’s gifts. Instead of having a guided prayer pertaining to the verse ready for me to recite, I dove into a prayer book searching for one to recite related to Thanksgiving and gratefulness. And finally, instead of typing out my prayer, I hand wrote it with paper and pen, expressing the many things on my mind I was grateful for. Through this experiment, I hoped to rediscover communicating to God in a manual way, and asked the question- would I feel more connected to God if I was disconnected from my device?

In each part of my experiment, the verse, explanation, recitement, and prayer, I took note of my reactions and feelings. On the app I normally use, the verse you need is presented firstly, alone without its surrounding verses. While looking for the verse in my Bible, I enjoyed being able to flip through the physical book. It’s light and flimsy, and the pages are thin and soft to the touch. The words are incredibly small, which, to me, was delightful, as it forced me to get close to the book and skim multiple lines to find the one I was seeking. One downside I did find while reading the verse and the explanation was really concentrating on what it was saying. I found myself rereading everything at least twice, which wasn’t usually the case when I read from my phone. Also, watching a video seems to hold my attention better, and being able to see someone talking right at me gives me something to focus on. Nevertheless, reading Young’s explanation still gave me a feeling of deeper connection, and having to reread it multiple times helped reinforce what it was expressing. Normally, I spend my time on the app and when I’m done I open Instagram or Tik Tok, giving me no time to truly absorb what I’ve learned. Looking for a prayer in my prayer book made me quickly look over each page to find the right one, which had me feeling similar to how I felt when searching for the verse. Without having a prayer ready to go, I was able to make note of other prayers in my book I wanted to go back to. Finally, I feel I had the most positive experience writing my prayer out. Even though the option of typing my prayer is convenient and faster, it almost feels like I’m texting God, which honestly is pretty strange when I think about it. However, writing out my prayer felt like writing a letter to a friend, and while writing I wasn’t tempted to go back and correct myself or rearrange my prayer how I do when I type it. 

Taking into account all my observations, and focusing on how I felt throughout my experiment, it’s safe to say this was a positive analog experience for me. I still feel positively towards the Bible app I’ve been using, as it does allow me to read and write comfortably from my bed at night, and the creators don’t include ads or push me to pay for a “premium” version. The videos give me a feeling of togetherness with other Christians featured in them as well. However, I feel reading from my physical books and handwriting my prayer provided more pros. I felt a deeper connection, and felt my conversation with God was more personal this way. Disconnecting from my device and its conveniences did help me feel closer to God, and helped my time with him feel truly fulfilling. 

Overview/Introduction: 

In exploring analog objects, I chose to focus on something deeply personal—my relationship with my Nana. We’ve been close since I was a young girl, and during quarantine, we developed a tradition of daily phone calls. Now that I’m away at school, we haven’t been able to talk as much as I’d like, but we’ve established a new routine of Wednesday afternoon calls. I go for a walk and chat with her, updating her all about my friends and classes, and she talks about her and the family. We easily go on for over an hour, sometimes even reaching the two-hour mark when the family drama gets intriguing. 

While I love my phone calls and occasional texts with Nana, I miss our in-person talks with one another. She’s familiar with messaging on her iPhone, but Facetime is something completely out of her field of expertise. As an alternative, I thought sending her a letter would be a heartwarming surprise for her to open in the mail. I would be able to express my love and appreciation for her not only in spoken words but in the form of a handmade letter. When doing this, I wondered how creatively I could formulate these terms of endearment for her. Will using a single 8.5 x 11 paper limit how much I can write to her? Will my handwriting be too illegible for her? Should I make my handwriting larger knowing that she cannot read that well? Should I include small drawings in the letter? I hoped that after completing this experiment, I would find answers to all of these questions and discover a new form of communicating with Nana that goes beyond digital interaction. To measure the practicality of communicating through letters, in addition to our weekly chats, I asked Nana how she felt about opening the letter when she initially received it. With no surprise, she was thrilled to find her heartfelt message in her mailbox. 

Observations:

The first obstacle I came across in this experiment was putting ink on paper. Between my stubborn writer’s block and the fear of not being able to erase my mistakes, it took me a while to even begin my letter. I can think of endless ways to describe my love for my Nana off the top of my head, but having to put those thoughts into physical words posed a challenge I didn’t think I’d come across. I was easily able to write birthday and Christmas cards to relatives in the past without hesitation, but now I was struggling to write an opener to my letter. Was this a creative block I had developed since being at school? Have I fallen into the comfort of typing everything on the computer without giving the delete bar and auto-correct a second thought? After these anxious thoughts left my mind, I knew I had to start writing soon and stop overthinking this task. At the end of the day, I was writing a personal message to Nana, and she was aware of how much I loved her. Anyway I express that to her would be greatly appreciated. 

So I began writing. Instantly, I noticed that because I was writing in a letter format, I felt the need to sound very articulate and formal. I tried looking past this and began my letter with “To my Bestie”, a term we call each other whenever we’re together. The words that came after that opening statement flowed so freely on the page. It felt as if I was speaking right next to her at her small kitchen table. I was nervous that I would misspell or run out of space for some of my words, but writing on the paper allowed my thoughts to run cohesively onto the paper. 

Overall, I was very satisfied with what I was able to write on my own. I usually rely on programs like Grammarly to autocorrect and rephrase my writing for emails and school assignments. However, I appreciated that those resources weren’t available to me during this experiment. I feel that it would take away from the intimacy of my written letter, almost in the sense that essays written with ChatAI lose their authenticity. I knew that filling the paper with my original thoughts and handwriting would be a precious gift to surprise Nana with. I ended the letter with our special goodbye to one another and dropped my pen in satisfaction. 

People have always told me how admiring my relationship with Nana is. We’re able to talk to each other multiple times a week and treat each other like we are inseparable friends. I’m aware that some people my age are forced by their parents to speak to their grandparents and are praised when doing it. However, speaking to Nana has always been effortless for me. It never felt like a chore to pick up the phone with her or to go to her house to chat. When writing this letter, I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride that I’ve never felt when ending a conversation with her. I believe that is because I worked on something so meaningful for her and I was thrilled for her to receive it.

Unlike sending an email or using the phone, I needed to physically send Nana her letter through the mail. Luckily, I had envelopes and stamps in my room that I was able to use. It had been so long since I sent a physical message to someone that I Googled how to properly format the stamp and the recipient’s address on the front of the envelope. I felt embarrassed that I even had to do that, forgetting something so simple yet lost in memory. The convenience of a simple phone dial or send button had completely taken over my reality of physical communication.

Using the mail system to deliver my letter was not as easy as I assumed it would be. I wanted the letter to arrive at Nana’s house as soon as possible. This meant I needed to send out the letter on a business day before 12 pm since that is when the campus postman collects the mail each day. I also feared that the letter might get lost in transit since that has happened to me in the past. Fortunately, I was able to send out the letter before noon on a Wednesday, just in time for it to be collected and delivered to Nana within days’ notice. This entire process reminded me of the times I would send my Christmas letters to Santa, taking special care in the way I wrote my letter and leaving it in the mailbox with an endless feeling of excitement. 

Reflection:

I noticed immediately when doing this experiment that I had lost my appreciation for the art of handmade things. I have always been a crafty person, especially when it comes to gifts, so my family is no stranger to receiving handmade goods or cards for the holidays. However, being at school and using my computer for most of my assignments has confined me to work electronically. Using this experiment as an opportunity to break through these technological constraints was so freeing to me. I was able to develop my creativity through the form of writing that made Nana feel so special. 

This message will forever stay in Nana’s home, where she can revisit it anytime she wants as a physical reminder of my love for her. After calling her to confirm the letter’s delivery, she told me how delighted she was to open the mailbox that day and find the handwritten message. The affectionate gesture of seeing my handwritten words brought her to tears. She ensured that the letter would have a special place right next to her bedside for her to revisit. 

Conclusion:

This process, which took me about an hour to complete, including the mailbox drop-off, was well worth the time. Knowing how meaningful my letter was to Nana and having her keep it as a token of our relationship encourages me to continue writing letters to her and my other loved ones. I’d like to start sending letters to my family during the holidays and birthdays so that they can receive more personal messages from me. I feel that they carry more significance than a pre-written Hallmark card or a classic “Happy Birthday” text. 

Making this letter allowed me to express my thoughts in a physical form that’s unique to me and my art style. I was able to include small notes and drawings throughout the paper related to my relationship with Nana. Using my computer or phone would limit my ability to include these minor, yet expressive details. Sending a heart-eyed emoji, something Nana and I often do when texting, can never match the value of a hand-drawn picture.

I recommend that everyone should attempt to write a letter at least once. If they don’t have a special person to deliver it to, finding a pen pal would be a creative alternative to this experiment. It would allow people to develop their communication skills and form new relationships with others through their writing.

Caption: The above image is a list of registered voters in New Paltz from 1859, whose last name begins with letter H. John Hasbrouck is labeled as color on the right-hand side. Once thought to be the first Black man to vote in New Paltz, now John Hasbrouck has been stripped from that title.  

Physical Description: The page that lists John Hasbrouck is contained within a booklet still in good condition. The page is estimated to be 8.5” by 11”. The booklet is kept within a manilla folder which is the legal size of 9.5” by 14.6”. The manilla folder is kept inside a file box. The booklet does have some creasing, specifically where the tab that indicates the page of the voters’ last name beginning with that letter has been dog-eared. Additionally, the ink of each page within this booklet can be seen to have bled onto the page before it. All names appear in cursive.   

Provenance: Not much is known about the ownership of this document. These documents were in the possession of Kenneth Hasbrouck. Then they became part of the New Paltz Town Records Collection. These documents reside in the archives and are now taken care of and administered by Historic Huguenot Street, but they are property of the town of New Paltz. 

 Narrative: As the Hasbrouck family has been connected to the French Huguenots, lets consider where the Huguenots came from. The Huguenots immigrated to America either “directly from France and indirectly from the Protestant countries of Europe, including the Netherlands, England, Germany, and Switzerland”(“Huguenot History.”). This was a gain for America as the Huguenots brought “skills of finance, industry, medicine, arts and crafts”(Paley). Additionally, the moving of the French Huguenots significantly impacted the village as they brought with them their values, causing them to integrate themself with the United States government as they establish within the village of New Paltz. As a result, they become a part of the elections.

The Hasbroucks are “descended from the brothers Jean and Abraham, French Huguenots, who both arrived in America in the early 1670s” (“Hasbrouck Family Association.”). In New Paltz, NY there are two houses on Huguenot Street that were owned by the Hasbroucks are still enduring the weather conditions of the northeast. These houses are the Abraham Hasbrouck house and the Jean Hasbrouck house.  

John Hasbrouck is considered to be one of the first registered colored voters in New Paltz, New York. John Hasbrouck lived from 1806 to 1879. He was not legally a slave but rather considered a “slave servant” (John Hasbrouck). Was the term “slave servant” used so that the Hasbrouck family could feel better about themselves? The account book of John Hasbrouck showcases that John received compensation for his work.  

Johns’ owner by lineage of being birthed by an enslaved woman who was under Jacob J. Hasbrouck was that same individual. However, Jacob J. Hasbrouck passed in 1806; Jacob resided in New Paltz as a wealthy landowner. Due to the passing of Jacob, John was “inherited by Jacob’s son, Jacob J. jr.”(John Hasbrouck).    

In 1821, there was a New York State law that stated the only possibility for an African American to vote was that they “needed to own property valued at $250 or more” (“Black Suffrage in New Paltz.”). Later in 1870, this requirement was removed as the U.S. Constitution added the 15th Amendment, which allowed all men to vote regardless of their race.  

The document showcases that John was listed to vote in 1859. It can be assumed that he owned property as the advantage of owning it gave him the right to vote. However, it is clearly shown that next to John’s name the office of register denoted him as a person of color.  

On a larger scale this document highlights significant facts that are still being recorded in today’s elections. “Demographic changes could continue to reshape the electoral landscape in future elections”(Igielnik). Keeping track of which individuals are registered to vote can provide insight on the expected results of an election. Today individuals need to be registered to vote at least 10 days before general elections and have their information updated to avoid being ineligible to vote.  

Works Cited 

“Black Suffrage in New Paltz.” Omeka RSS, omeka.hrvh.org/exhibits/show/jane-deyo-wynkoop/black-suffrage-in-new-paltz.  

“Hasbrouck Family Association.” Historic Huguenot Street, www.huguenotstreet.org/hasbrouck. 

“HHS_749_FULL.” Home, nyheritage.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p16694coll153/id/27329/rec/2.  

“HHS_JOHNHASBROUCKACCOUNTBOOK_MSS_323_009.” Home, nyheritage.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p16694coll153/id/27278/rec/4.  

“Huguenot History.” Seal of the Huguenot Society of America, www.huguenotsocietyofamerica.org/history/huguenot-history/.  

Igielnik, Ruth. “The Changing Racial and Ethnic Composition of the U.S. Electorate.” Pew Research Center, Pew Research Center, 23 Sept. 2020, www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2020/09/23/the-changing-racial-and-ethnic-composition-of-the-u-s-electorate/.  

John Hasbrouck · The Missing Chapter: Untold Stories of the African American Presence in the Mid-Hudson Valley · Hudson River Valley Heritage Exhibits, omeka.hrvh.org/exhibits/show/missing-chapter/people/john-hasbrouck.  

Paley, Ben. “Huguenot History.” Huguenot Museum, huguenotmuseum.org/about/the-huguenots/.  

Marin and Michaela  

Caption:  

Nestled in the cozy, leaf-strewn neighborhood of Historic Huguenot Street, the Jean Hasbrouck house stands, a relic of time, waiting for curious minds to venture in and uncover its history. Stepping inside this stone house and traversing down the small, 5-step stairs that are embedded in the wooden floors, allows you into the store’s ancient store space, otherwise known as the Hasbrouck Tavern. 

 Physical Description of the Object: 

In the center of this floor space lies the Bar, a large counter-space about 42.25 inches tall by 83 inches wide. This space is about the space of a typical cashier counter today, so it is easy to imagine patrons nestled around it, eager to purchase their goods. The concave front side of the bar is painted a faded greenish-blue color. The coloring is splotchy and reveals a pale brown undertone. There are two vertical lines cutting down the bar vertically, both about 5 inches wide. There is one line of wood paneling cutting across those vertical lines. This line is also about 5 inches wide. 

Wooden grilles protrude from the top in a stockade-like appearance. These bars were “a standard element of 18^th century colonial taverns” (Indian King Tavern News). These grilles are presumably made of wood that is more lightweight than oakwood, most likely timber or pine. These bars could have prevented customers from reaching over and grabbing items in an unruly manner. This bar’s outer curve comprises about 9 reddish-brown timber oak panels about 4-6 inches wide. This curve is surrounded on all four sides, creating a shelf-like space behind the front of the counter. This shelf-like, curved space provided enough room for at least one other person to be standing behind the counter, monitoring the goods that would have been being sold.  

The topmost counter of this bar has a dark stain, its wood being less faded than the wood below it. This dark stain does have its share of bumps and scratches, with some minor chipping and scuff marks scattered across this surface. This wear and tear was done after the store closed in 1911, but it is not unlikely that a patron once might have gotten and, as one might do even today, scuffed the counter themselves. 

 Provenance: 

Photo courtesy of The Library of Congress 

It is in the Jean Hasbrouck house where the bar stood. The floor plan of the Jean Hasbrouck house (pictured above) is one that shows its three floors, with a main floor, second floor, and a basement space. The house is characterized by its stone walls, low ceilings, and the presence of this very bar front in this building’s Northeast room. This store space, known as room 103/R103 in the floor plans, was not always a storeroom, this space and the item only being added to the house in 1786. This addition was one that took time, money, and family members that were willing to pass down their family’s history. 

The Jean Hasbrouck House went through generations of owners, starting with Jean’s son Jacob Hasbrouck, who took care of Jean before he passed. Jacob lived in the house with Jean so taking on the day-to-day responsibilities of his father’s investments and farms after his passing was no challenge. Shortly after Jacob’s 26^th birthday, he oversaw and took possession of Jean’s estate. The house that the bar is in was not built and completed until 1722, 8 years after Jean’s passing (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). Jacob Hasbrouck’s inheritance positioned him as one of the richest and most influential figures in the New Paltz community. Jacob designed a house that was constructed with a striking departure from the usual architectural style in New Paltz, yet it was still designed within the parameters of the community building’s traditions (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). In the 1700s, stone was a novel material in local architecture, but it began quickly to be used in traditional buildings to reflect the increasing wealth and evolving class consciousness of Dutch farmers in the area (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). Jacob believed to build the house from stone to reflect the economic and class standing of its builder. Jacob Hasbrouck, who was the father of Josiah and Jacob Hasbrouck Jr., passed down the family’s real estate and investments. When Jacob Jr. got married, his father Jacob decided to retire which led him to assume his position with the Elected Twelve Men (otherwise known as the Dunzine), a group of men responsible for making local decisions, resolving disputes, governing the land, and maintaining order in the community. This system of governance persisted in New Paltz until the early 19th century.  

Jacob Hasbrouck Jr. never met the original owner of the house, Jean Hasbrouck, but he lived and served in this house and inherited it when his father, Jacob Hasbrouck, died in 1761 (Historic Huguenot Street). It is disputed that Jacob Jr. Was the one who initially created the store in the Jean Hasbrouck house, because while Ralph LeFevre insinuated that a store had existed in that house for “probably half a century before,” there is no real documentation to suggest that this is true. Due to the lack of evidence, it is more likely that Josiah, his son, began the business instead. Josiah was a very work-oriented man and there are “many aspects of Josiah’s life and times that support this initiative as well as the change it represented to the household and family economy” (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report) that suggest his likeliness to have created the store. However, if this bar really was in the possession of Jacob Jr., then he was the owner of the business at the Jean Hasbrouck house throughout the Revolutionary War, serving as the bar’s owner even as he “became a major in the Ulster County militia and was known thereafter as Major Hasbrouck” (Hasbrouck Family). In 1786, Jacob Hasbrouck Jr. would have turned the bar over to his oldest son, Josiah Hasbrouck. It was Josiah Hasbrouck who took it upon himself to renovate the storefront space and the house to accommodate his growing family. 

Additional rooms, fireplaces, windows, and more were added to the Jean Hasbrouck house to accommodate Josiah’s growing family and dedication to modernization (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). These extra rooms include the same bar space, accompanied by the fireplace at the back of the bar and the bar counter itself. This space thrived from 1786 to 1811, when the storefront was closed and more focus was placed on Locust Farm, the farm that the Hasbrouck family had begun to cultivate. Though the store was no longer running, the bar remained in that space, waiting for the next day someone would use it.  

This bar became detached from its original room following house renovations in the 1970s and 1980s, though the is no exact documented date of this detachment. This bar was built into the Jean Hasbrouck house, against a wall to allow for more item security behind its curved countertop, but now stands as a free-standing feature in the center of the room. Due to this removal and its detachment, the bar underwent some alterations and obtained the wear and tear that can be found on its countertop.   

The Jean Hasbrouck house “was the first structure purchased by the Huguenot Patriotic, Monumental, and Historical Society (the original name of Historic Huguenot Street) and has been in operation as a museum since 1899” (New York Heritage). It is because of this and the Hasbrouck family’s dedication to the preservation of its history that this bar can remain in the very same space where it was used over two hundred years ago.  

Narrative:   

To us, this location is a gateway to the past and history of this storefront. However, to the people living and visiting these spaces all those years ago, it was a tactile way to establish themselves in the Huguenot culture.  

The Bar in the Jean Hasbrouck house provided a public gathering space for the residents of the town, serving as a community hub for discussions and all sorts of chatter. It was a site for political debates and meetings, reflecting the evolving political climate of the time and providing a space for local leaders and citizens to engage in discourse about issues affecting the community, including slavery and abolition. 

As a family that has always been involved in politics, the Hasbrouck family was known for its involvement in the establishment of the “Town of New Paltz in 1785” (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). This role was played by Josiah Hasbrouck who, following in his father and forefather’s footsteps, “served nearly continuously as either the Town Clerk (a position he initiated) or Town Supervisor from 1782 to 1805, with periodic interruptions while occupying state and national offices” (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). Additionally, Josiah Hasbrouck served as a lieutenant in the Revolutionary War, and “served in the House of Representatives during the terms of Presidents Adams and Jefferson”(Historic Huguenot Street) With the ownership of Jacob Jr. and Josiah Hasbrouck, it is said in the 1760s that “a store was opened in the house” (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). Despite this establishment, Josiah continued to serve his role in local politics, maintaining his place in the town’s government, as a town clerk and a town supervisor. He continued to serve in elected office, including his final term in Congress in 1819. 

Josiah Hasbrouck’s ideals aligned with the Democratic-Republican Party of the time. This political party, also known as the Jeffersonian Party, reflected the idea of limited government intervention and democracy. These views aligned with those of his forebears, valuing the original ideals of the original Huguenot settlers, who prioritized things like land ownership, community, and liberty in the face of the establishment of federalized power. Though there are no documents to be found about conversations that might have occurred in this bar, it is likely that this bar served as a social space to share these political ideals. The Hasbrouck family, especially Josiah himself, might have used this space to gauge the political ideas of the town’s residents and used that information to secure himself a position in the town’s government.  

As said in the Jean Hasbrouck Report, “There are account books and a large collection of receipts and records that authenticate a store function for the house during his son Josiah Hasbrouck’s period of occupancy” (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). Even though Jacob Jr. could have been involved in the set-up, Josiah took over the business and made his project come to life. Josiah wanted to “diversify his income by opening a store in the village, this business, providing a wide range of food, liquor, textiles, household, supplies, farm tools, and construction materials in exchange for marketable, agricultural products, such as wheat, flax, flaxseed, butter, ashes, nuts, and beeswax” (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). In needing a partnership to overlook the day-to-day operation of the store, he brought Josiah Dubois, his son-in-law, so he could enter state politics, specifically the New York State Assembly in 1796 (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). Regarding the bar itself, it is proven that the things kept behind the bar’s shelf were liquor due to drinking being a common bonding practice at the time, but receipts of Josiah Hasbrouck and Josiah DuBois involving the store located at the Jean Hasbrouck House on Huguenot Street indicate that not just liquor was sold here. This document, spanning from 1794 to 1847, is one with about 136 pages worth of store receipts and other financial documents. This book documents the sale of liquor, bread, and even butter from this establishment, marking down the names of those who visited the store, the day, and how many shillings they owed. Considering Josiah Hasbrouck was the Overseer of the Poor at the time, it was important for him to keep this record of how much he was spending, who was coming in, and, most importantly, what was being sold at this bar. 

The bar’s curvature and grilles offered a secure storage space for valuables and fragile items along with the storage of alcohol. The cage bar was a familiar asset, in which most were a recreated version, but were what served patrons alcohol during the Revolutionary War (Indian King Tavern News). According to input from Louise McGoldrick and Beth Patkus, archivists and historians at Historic Huguenot Street, there is no direct record of why these bars were established.  

However, upon further research, it could be found that these grilles reflect the “cage” or “frame” bar aesthetic that was common in 18^th century colonial taverns. It is because of the bars that this cage was comprised of that the modern term “bar” was established (Indian King Tavern). In the 18th century, alcohol was often very heavily regulated and policed by government officials. As a result of this, many bar owners were required to document their sales of alcohol and constantly take inventory. The grilles on this bar could have been to help the bar employees manage the sale of their items and make it more difficult for people to potentially steal their alcohol. The bars reflect a controlled environment, showing people that this bar has it under control and that it was adhering to the alcohol standards of the time. Additionally, these wooden bars could reflect the house itself, with the house’s many partitions to help separate the private living quarters from the store and from any of the slave quarters. 

Socially, this bar served as a space for people to congregate and buy the items they needed. However, as a space in a very Eurocentric, white-dominated neighborhood, it is important to consider the social status of this time, as well as what that meant for enslaved people.  

The Hasbrouck family is a family that has a documented history of owning enslaved people. Jacob Hasbrouck’s will suggest that there were quite a few slaves in his possession. In 1798, when slaves were enumerated by the assessors for the U.S. Direct Tax, Jacob Hasbrouck, Jr. and his son Josiah owned 13 slaves, 8 of whom resided with Josiah in the homestead house (Jean Hasbrouck House Historic Structure Report). Additionally, a document provided by New York Heritage called “New Paltz Assessment Book, 1798, enumerating dwelling houses, land and other buildings, and enslaved persons” (New York Heritage), creates an enumerated list of enslaved peoples in the town at the time, listing them based off gender and age. 

Considering the dedication that Josiah Hasbrouck spent documenting his receipts and documents as the Overseer of the Poor, the fact that the names of his store employees are not written anywhere is perplexing. It could be assumed that Josiah himself worked at the store, but his busy nature as well as his participation in town activities make it unlikely that he would be able to work the store at all hours. If Josiah himself were not working at the store, it is puzzling why there is no true documentation of who was employed to work behind the bar. Unless it is because those who worked at this store were not considered full people by the owners of the house at the time. Due to the confirmed presence of slaves in Jean Hasbrouck’s house, it is likely that the workers at the store during this time were slaves owned by Josiah himself. The lack of documentation of slave names and ages can be found in other documents surrounding Historic Huguenot Street, such as Josiah Hasbrouck’s record of the birth of an enslaved girl as the First Town Clerk, signaling a common theme on the perspective on slaves during this time.  

While New York, and consequently the Town of New Paltz, began to emancipate their enslaved people in the early 19th century, enslaved individuals still faced systematic discrimination even after gaining their freedom. The lack of documentation in the bar, as well as stories like The Springtown Merchant of 1800, shows that this bar perpetuated those unfair societal standards.  

Conclusion: 

Now, Historic Huguenot Street currently interprets its history in a manner that seeks to honor the lives of the people who were part of the street’s history and the Jean Hasbrouck Bar. This honor is shown through these resources through Historic Huguenot Street, where the acknowledgment of the Hasbrouck family’s role in building the town and its political views are shown. Additionally, through the attempt to understand how the lives of enslaved people, whose names are not known, shaped the development of the town we now reside in. 

REFERENCES:  

“Colonial Taverns.” Restaurant-ing Through History. Available at: https://restaurant-ingthroughhistory.com/tag/colonial-taverns/ 

“Economic Impact of Historic Huguenot Street in New Paltz Focus of Report.” Daily Freeman, 2017. Available at: https://www.dailyfreeman.com/2017/01/11/economic-impact-of-historic-huguenot-street-in-new-paltz-focus-of-report/amp/ 

Hasbrouck Family Association. Historic Huguenot Street. Available at: https://www.huguenotstreet.org/hasbrouck#:~:text=Josiah%20Hasbrouck%20was%20a%20Lieutenant,both%20there%20and%20in%20Virginia 

“Huguenot Street Community.” Historic Huguenot Street. Available at: https://www.huguenotstreet.org/community 

“Huguenot Street History.” Historic Huguenot Street. Available at: https://www.huguenotstreet.org/history 

“Records of the Elting Family and Slavery.” New York Heritage. Available at: https://nyheritage.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/elting/id/380/ 

“Historic Huguenot Street: Enslaved Peoples Records.” New York Heritage. Available at: https://nyheritage.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p16694coll153/id/21339/rec/2 

Jean Hasbrouck House Floor Plan. Library of Congress, loc.gov/resource/hhh.ny0882.sheet/?sp=8. 

“Wooden Grilles in Historic Bars.” Levin Furniture & Mattress Insights, 2006. Available at: https://www.levins.com/iknews06.htm 

These are campaign pins preserved from the 1964 Barry Goldwater and William Miller of the Republican party. Giving the modern onlooker a glimpse into the past, these pins help contextualize the political engagement of New Paltz in its local, state, and federal elections as well as provide insight into the campaign efforts in the area.

There are seven campaign pins spread across a white tablecloth background angled in various directions. They span 1.25 inches in diameter—white with a red border and black-and-white images of the candidate and his running mate, Goldwater and Miller, though the outer edges show signs of weathering given their age (roughly 60 years). Above their heads in blue and white reads the Dutch phrase, “EEN PLOEG VOOR VRYHEID,” roughly translating to “A Team for Freedom/ Liberty.” The pins are composed of thin metal and are stored in a cardboard tube, which is marked by a red, white, and blue sticker labeled “EEN PLOEG VOOR VRYHEID GOLDWATER MILLER.”

Though the Historic Huguenot Street currently owns this, it was donated by a member of the community. Information surrounding that chain stops there. One replica of the pin is currently being sold on popular commerce site eBay, with the seller located in Greenbackville, Virginia. Its container—a cardboard tube—only contains one identifying label, which traces its roots back to a union called the International Union of Painters and Allied Trades, with Local 820 “representing sign & display workers, paint manufacturing and other industrial workers,” according to the union’s website. Local 820 falls under District 3, which serves Western Missouri and Kansas, identifying the origins of these pins in these Midwestern regions. The origins of the Dutch phrase do not produce any leads either.

The 1964 Presidential Election came at a tumultuous time, less than a year after the assassination of former President John F. Kennedy. Lyndon B. Johnson was selected as the Democratic Party nominee, while Barry Goldwater, an Arizona Senator, was selected as the Republican Party nominee.

Goldwater was controversial at the time, as he was seen as a much more extremist candidate. He was highly critical of Republican moderates, against big government involvement, and infamously voted against the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Nevertheless, he won the bid, stating in his Republican National Convention acceptance speech, “Extremism in defense of liberty is no vice” and that “moderation in pursuit of justice is no virtue.”

When it comes to national campaigns, local chapters and organizations bear the brunt of the education and mobilization processes, whose efforts were often reported on by local newspapers. Taking a look at SUNY New Paltz, the Social Science Club worked to mobilize students to vote. An archived paper from The Oracle, the SUNY New Paltz student-run newspaper, dating back to November 6, 1964 details the campaign efforts on campus. From the Social Science Club emerged two groups—the Young Democrats and the Young Republicans. Between October 20 to October 28, the two groups worked to sway voters in the direction of their party’s candidates. “The [College Union Building] tables were stacked with literature, bumper stickers, and bowls full of campaign buttons. In all, about 2400 buttons were given out.” It was not confirmed whether the campaign pins owned by the Historic Huguenot Street are the same pins as the ones distributed, but nonetheless they belong to the same campaigns. The two groups served as informational centers, with the Young Republicans group reportedly, “[playing] tapes of ‘Let’s Put Barry in the White House’ and ‘Keating, Keating.’” The Young Democrats, as noted in the October 23 issue, “have volunteered their time to work in the New Paltz area for the election of Lyndon Baines Johnson and Hubert Humphrey.” Much of the work these two groups engaged in contributed towards similar things: voter registration, ballot information, and engaging with local politicians. Campaign materials, such as pins, were used to further engage the voter bases at the university level. Even though many could not vote (the minimum voting age was set to 21 until 1971), education was at the forefront of their efforts. 

Zooming out a bit, the presidential campaigns in the town of New Paltz were largely spearheaded by their respective party chapters—New Paltz Republican Club and the Democratic Club of New Paltz. The New Paltz Independent and Times, a local defunct paper, detailed the various events these organizations would host. One example is that the Democratic Club hosted a Torchlight Parade and Rally as well as a Voter Registration Drive (seen in the October 7, 1964 article), whereas the Republican Club hosted an event on October 13, 1964 for the SUNY New Paltz Young Republicans Club, bringing in Bernard Kramer, the secretary to Republican Congressman J. Ernest Wharton, to speak on Wharton’s policies and platform. Kramer also “reiterated [Wharton’s] support of the entire Republican ticket from Barry Goldwater down the line.” It was not uncommon for local politicians to cross these lines and endorse every member on their party’s ticket, from federal to state to local. In an editorial piece on October 28, 2024, the Democratic Club wrote to “urge [voters] to vote on November 3 for the entire Democratic team,” endorsing the Johnson-Humphrey ticket as well as every other Democrat. There was an exceptional amount of effort poured in on behalf of political organizations to ensure that every candidate on their party’s ticket was campaigned for.

In another publication, New Paltz News featured many overlapping stories in addition to a 1964 Voters Guide compiled by The League of Women Voters, a “nonpartisan organization working to promote political responsibility through informed and active participation of citizens in government.” The guide, published in the October 22, 1964 issue, listed out every local politician specific to New Paltz’s districts, providing short general descriptions of the candidates as well as their answers to questions that the League had asked, providing a database for voters to refer to on the ideas and policies of each candidate. This demonstrated how educational efforts were not just evident in the events happening in town, but the newspapers themselves.

The New Paltz Independent and Times and New Paltz News reported on the results on November 4 and 5 respectively. The town of New Paltz voted in favor of Johnson, leading by 59% in all four districts, reflecting the same Democratic percentage of Ulster County at 59.1%. Johnson ultimately won New York and its 43 electoral votes. At the national level, Johnson won 486 of the electoral votes, winning the election in a landslide. 

By looking through these three papers, they offer a better lens in analyzing the historical context surrounding these pins. They were part of not just the Republican party’s campaign, but a larger mobilization effort on both parties to advocate and campaign for all candidates specific to New Paltz. Campaign pins were a way to demonstrate support and further carry the messages of the politicians across communities. These educational efforts can be reflected on our own modern advocacy networks, with nonpartisan groups such as the New York Public Interest Research Group (NYPIRG) working throughout the semester up until election day to register voters, educate students on voting options, and provide resources on candidates and ballot information. Despite the 60 years that separates us from the Goldwater Miller campaign, the preservation of these campaign buttons illustrate the long-lasting work of local political organizations to sway, but ultimately, educate voters.

Works Cited

Holden, Charles J. “The Republican National Convention That Shocked the Country.” TIME, Time, 17 July 2024, time.com/6991064/rnc-history-1964-republican-convention/. Accessed 4 Nov. 2024.

International Union of Painters and Allied Trades. “Locals IUPAT District Council 3 Serving Western Missouri and Kansas.” International Union of Painters and Allied Trades District Council 3, 2014, iupatdc3.com/locals/820. Accessed 4 Nov. 2024.

Leip, David. 1964 Presidential General Election Data Graphs – New York by County. Dave Leip’s Atlas of U.S. Elections, 1999, uselectionatlas.org/RESULTS/datagraph.php?year=1964&fips=36&f=1&off=0&elect=0. Accessed 4 Nov. 2024.

McGee, Suzanne. “How Barry Goldwater Brought the Far Right to Center Stage in the 1964 Presidential Race.” HISTORY, 20 Oct. 2020, http://www.history.com/news/barry-goldwater-1964-campaign-right-wing-republican. Accessed 4 Nov. 2024.

New Paltz News. “Johnson Wins in New Paltz.” New Paltz News, 5 Nov. 1964.

The Democratic Club of New Paltz. “Vote on Nov. 3.” The New Paltz Independent and Times, 28 Oct. 1964.

The League of Women Voters. “1964 Voters Guide.” New Paltz News, 22 Oct. 1964.

The New Paltz Independent and Times. “Democratic Club Met October 1st.” The New Paltz Independent and Times, 7 Oct. 1964.

—. “Johnson Elected in Historic Landslide.” The New Paltz Independent and Times, 4 Nov. 1964.

—. “New Paltz Republican Club to Host College Students.” The New Paltz Independent and Times, 7 Oct. 1964.

—. “Wharton Record Outlined at Republican Club.” The New Paltz Independent and Times, 14 Oct. 1964.

The Oracle. “Social Science Club: New Paltz Sweep for Johnson.” The Oracle, 6 Nov. 1964.

—. “Young Democrats.” The Oracle, 23 Oct. 1964.

Caption

His prideful gaze washed and darkened over with aging varnish residue, a copy of Johannes De Peyster III’s portrait in New York Historical Society now resides over the desk of Grimm Louise’s Office within the historical walls of Huguenot Street. For the Huguenot Street historians he serves as a reminder to be timely with their work; but to history, it serves as a reminder of New York, and New Paltz, colonial government.

Physical Description: 

The portrait is an oil on canvas in a wood gilt frame, the oval inside dimensions are 27 ¾” w x 35” h, and its frame dimensions are 35” w x 46” h. Looking at the portrait, Johannes De Peyster III, an influential businessman and Albany mayor from 1729-1733, is dressed in formal colonial attire that reflects his wealth. This features a clothing made from high-quality fabrics such as a long fitted coat, waistcoat, and lace cuffs and collar, representing status. His outfit is made of dark, somber hues such as blacks, browns, and dark greens, characteristic of formal fashion in the period.

His pose depieted in this portrait is dignified and restrained, his gaze is serious conveying the authority anticipated of a mayor. The background consists of minimalistic elements. What can be seen as a possible evening sky on the left side of the painting with muted blues and pinks coinciding with minimal dark foliage. Additionally, a dark and muted wooden structure contrasts with DePeyster’s figure and attire ensuring he remains the focal point. The color scheme of this piece consists of dark and subdued tones, with dramatic light and shadow contrasts that highlight DePeyster’s face and hands. This chiaroscuro effect highlights his features, the textures of his clothing, and the intricacies on his face. Which may show indications of age, implying his longevity and life experience

Given his age during the time of this portrait, DePeyster’s face should bear the lines and creases of age, however, in this portrait, DePeyster’s face is idealized providing the mayor with a young and glowing face, which in many historical cases reinforced their power and status. His hair, likely powdered or styled in colonial fashion, frames his face, emphasizing a receding hairline and his status as a higher-ranking official.

The portrait’s style is likely consistent with the restrained, realistic approach popular in early American colonial portraiture, which values realism, formality, and respectability above expressiveness or romanticized features. It may be heavily influenced by European, particularly Dutch, portrait traditions, demonstrating the enduring cultural linkages between colonial America and the Old World.

Provenance:

The subject of this work is Johannes DePuyster, John DePuyster Douw’s grandfather. The original portrait was painted around 1718 by Nehemiah Partridge. The original is in the New York Historical Society collection. However, this copy was donated on April 2nd, 1986 by Mr. Louis Hasbrouck to Mr. Kenneth Hasbrouck for the Historical Huguenot Street collections. The portrait found its way into the Hasbrouck family when the Donor’s mother, Helen Miller, a descendent of the subject, Johannes DePeyster III, married Levi Hasbrouck in 1918.

Mr. Louis Hasbrouck states his memory puts this very object into the living room of his parent’s estate. Their guardian, Edith H. Smalley, lived in the home while Louis and his two brothers were in military service. Smalley then moved to New York City when Mr. Louis Hasnrouck took residence in his parent’s estate around 1945. 

While there isn’t any record of the exact location of the Hasbrouck family home what we do know is how such a painting ended up in Mr. Louis Hasbrouck’s lot. Bevier Hasbrouck marries and John enters a monastery. Dividing the two Hasbrouck homes, Louis Hasbrouck and his wife Susan Brunck Hinman and Mary K. Hasbrouck, who died during wartime. The portrait then fell into the possession of Louis Hasbrouck. During the division of the two Hasbrouck homes, the painting was found home-on-loan with Edwin and Dorette Clack which hung in their drawing room till death. This leads the painting to be brought back into possession of the Hasbrouck family.

Narrative

Johannes De Peyster was born in New York in 1694. He was the son of Johannes De Peyster, a merchant of Huguenot descent, and Anna Bancker De Peyster, an Albany native. His extended career in Albany and his time in military service serve as a model for success in early America.

In 1713, Johannes traveled upstate to learn business from his uncle, Albany entrepreneur Evert Bancker. In 1715, he married Albany-born Anna Schuyler, the eighteen-year-old daughter of Albany’s most important New Netherland family. De Peyster, after successfully conducting business with his uncle, then moved to his uncle’s house on the south side of State Street, Albany, where he would reside for the next seventy years. Additionally, in 1721, Johannes was elected first ward assistant, succeeding his uncle. The next year, in 1722, Johannes was elected alderman and was re-elected every year until 1726, when he was then named city recorder. Johannes was named mayor of Albany in 1729 and served until 1733. He was later elected as an alderman from 1748 to 1754. Additionally, he was a militia officer from 1717 to the 1740s. He frequently had contract business with city hall and was an active member of the Commissioners of Indian Affairs until he resigned in protest in 1746.

The object itself was originally created in 1718 by Nehemiah Partridge. Around 1718, Partridge was introduced to the society of Albany, New York, which had not yet been visited by any painters. It’s unclear how he met clients, although it might have been through Boston merchant Jacob Wendell, whose cousin Evert Bancker was one of Albany’s most influential.

We don’t have much information on our version of the portrait, we are unsure who created it or when it was copied from its original. Just like aging varnish, there is a mystery to what lies beneath the surface. However, this copy of this painting from the Hasbrouck family serves as a connection to the early European settlers in New Paltz, as well as a connection to the greater early Dutch colony of New York.

Provided documents from HHS by Louise McGoldrick, a Collections Manager at the site, connect a direct lineage to the Hasbruock family in possession of this portrait to the history of New Paltz. “There is a list of names (Louis – Louis – Joseph – Abraham – Joseph – Abraham) under the donor’s parent (G-37) that tracks the direct family line back to the Patentee, Abraham Hasbrouck (1657-1717).” (McGoldrick, 2024)

To the history of New Paltz, The Patentees is a group of early male European settlers. These are the men who signed the 1677 land deal with the Esopus Munsee tribe, exchanging goods for permission to live on 40,000 acres of land that is now the larger New Paltz region. The Patentees consisted of men each representing French Huguent and Wallon origin, one of these men was Abraham Hasbrouck. 

September 15th, 1677, the Esopus-Huguenot Land Agreement was enacted. The original boundaries of the patent contained a large part of present-day southeastern Ulster County, including portions of the towns of Esopus, Lloyd, Plattekill, Gardiner, and Shawangunk. For this land, Huguenots traded a collection of goods such as domestic supplies, tools, clothing, animals, and gunpowder and gave the Esopus the right to hunt on the lands exchanged within the patent.

The land agreement also reflects a connection to Albany and Johannes De Peyster III. From the seventeenth century through the eighteenth century, the fur trade between the Dutch and English settlers and the Iroquois nation dominated within the Capital region. Johannes De Peyster III served as mayor and a member of the Indian Affairs Commission during the major conflicts and trades between the natives and Albany settlers. The fur trade helped the Iroquois strengthen their hold in the region by allowing them to control key resources while still maintaining connections with European nations. De Peyster took part in the contacts between the two powers. De Peyster, who came from a wealthy business and political family, was a well-known fur merchant and landowner. As mayor and merchant, he was in charge of monitoring trade regulations and guaranteeing Albany’s powerful status. This contributed to the overall economic and political dynamics between the Iroquois and the British colonies.

Johannes De Peyster III’s portrait and history coincide with the history of Abraham Hasbrouck in the town of New Paltz. The two of these histories bridge to New York’s colonial history, one of major power and the other an individual rural town. Involved in fur trades and land agreements, both the influence in Albany and the smaller town of New Paltz participated in democratic interactions. These stories offer significance in a town such as New Paltz with an early Dutch influence; figures like De Peyster constituted an elite class of leaders who participated in local and regional decision-making processes. Although De Peyster is unlikely to have actually shifted voting habits, his participation illustrates the long tradition of civic duty and governance that formed colonial political culture and, eventually, the creation of American democracy. De Peyster’s family lineage connects the regions together.

We may never know what lies behind the intentions of this copy, or it’s true origins. What we can tell from his gaze is to always make sure to check our emails but to also look at the grand history of early America in the new world; connecting New Paltz to the bigger colonial history of New York state.

Works Cited

Goldstein, Jacob. “Murder in Colonial Albany: European and Indian Responses to Cross-Cultural Murders.” Order No. 1517173 The George Washington University, 2012. United States — District of Columbia: ProQuest. Web. 29 Oct. 2024.

Historic Huguenot Street, http://www.huguenotstreet.org/. Accessed 29 Oct. 2024.

Johannes de Peyster, exhibitions.nysm.nysed.gov/albany/bios/d/jodp.html#jdp. Accessed 3 Nov. 2024.

“Johannes DePeyster III (1694-1789).” Johannes DePeyster III (1694-1789). | New York Historical Society | Digital Collections, digitalcollections.nyhistory.org/islandora/object/nyhs%3A2121. Accessed 3 Nov. 2024.

New York Heritage Digital Collections, nyheritage.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/search/collection/hhs!p16694coll153. Accessed 29 Oct. 2024.

“Nehemiah Partridge.” Artist Info, http://www.nga.gov/collection/artist-info.6691.html#biography. Accessed 3 Nov. 2024.

McGoldrick, Louise. Email to the author. 28 October 2024. 

Caption: 

This sculptural bust of Abraham Lincoln in a Classical garment is a telling piece from the Colonial Revival. The Colonial Revival was a widespread interest in colonial styles of architecture and decor, peaking from 1880 to 1940 (Gyure). The sculpture is a glance into this period, showing with its style and concept the relation between the revival and nationalism and the rise of patriotism. 

Physical Description: 

The sculpture depicts a bust of the 16th president of the United States, Abraham Lincoln. The artwork is composed of plaster to imitate marble, standing at 31 inches high by 22 inches wide. Lincoln is shown in a Classical garment, most likely either a Greek himation or a Roman toga. The garment drapes around both of his shoulders. Notably, instead of being depicted with his usual beard, Lincoln’s face is clean shaven. His expression is relaxed, yet confident, and reflects typical depictions of presidents in art. With his head held high, this bust brings a sense of patriotism and pride to the living room of the Deyo House on Huguenot Street.

Provenance:

Unfortunately, this sculpture is one of the pieces in the collection that the historians at Historic Huguenot Street don’t know a lot about. The object doesn’t have an ownership history, and the bust currently in the Deyo House is a replica. The bust was most likely acquired by Abraham and Gertrude Deyo Brodhead to present a fashionable Colonial Revival interior. After going bankrupt in the early 1910s, the family lost the house and sold most of their belongings. The current items furnishing the Deyo House today, including the bust, are replicas based on 1915 auction sales and social events at the home referenced in newspapers (McGoldrick).

Narrative: 

Through the analysis of its style and subject matter, it’s clear that the bust of Abraham Lincoln is a significant piece of the Colonial Revival in New Paltz during the early 1900s. Abraham Deyo Broadhead was evidently an enthusiast of the Colonial Revival, remodeling the Deyo House in 1894 to transform the original small stone home into the Queen Anne style home we see today (“Deyo House Historical Structural Report”). This transformation was also noticeable in the home’s interior decor, which is where the Lincoln bust comes into play.  

In order to understand the sculpture’s significance during its time, we have to explore the Colonial Revival and its history further. The expansive popularity of the revival was due to many factors, but most importantly was because of a rise of patriotism and nationalism. After the Civil War, Americans took a new sense of pride in their country, in both the North and the South (Jost). The war transformed patriotism, solidifying the value of national unity. The reintroduction of original political values of pride and unity fueled the emergence of the Colonial Revival, and the colonial style of architecture and decor that’s at the center of the revival provides a physical representation of those values. The Abraham Lincoln bust was a piece of interior decor, specifically a plaster cast, that was mass produced during this time. During the period of the Civil War, Americans consistently made connections to classical heritage, and through participating in the replication of plaster casts, the United States began to evoke a higher reputation as a modern and confident country (Breitweiser).

Lincoln was an extremely important political figure during Deyo’s time, so it’s no wonder he would have decor honoring him, especially after his successes during the Civil War. Lincoln’s term as president preceded the beginning of the Colonial Revival, connecting it to patriotism felt by Americans during his presidency. The Classical garment Lincoln is shown wearing reflects the importance of Classics during the revolutionary period. America’s founding fathers referenced classic Greek and Roman democratic movements when creating the Constitution (Breitweiser). Showing a recent president such as Lincoln in a Classic Greek or Roman style showcases the interest and reintroduction of the original idea of what being American means.

Abraham Deyo was a political figure during his time, serving as mayor of New Paltz from 1896-1897 (“Deyo House Historical Structural Report”). As well as this, he was a founder of the Huguenot Patriotic Monumental and Historical Society in 1894, the predecessor of Historic Huguenot Street (“About Us”). Regardless of these facts, it’s clear that Abraham was in fact a patriot through his involvement in the Colonial Revival. His interest in colonialism showcases the prevalent beliefs he held, relating to nationalism and cultural heritage (McGoldrick). The Abraham Lincoln bust gives us an increased incitement on Deyo’s ideologies. 

While the statue doesn’t directly relate to the history of elections and voting in New Paltz, it’s an important symbol of democracy and political ideals of the time. As mentioned before, Deyo was an involved political member of New Paltz. After his remodeling of the house in 1895, he and his wife began to welcome visitors to witness their “beautified” home in the style of the Colonial Revival (“Deyo House Historical Structural Report”). Though the architecture of the house was the star of the show, the interior decor that laid inside the house is suggestive of what values Deyo wished to convey to his guests. Specifically, the presence of the Lincoln sculpture in the living room of the home showed guests that Deyo was indeed a patriotic man, with a keen interest in colonialism and classical heritage. As well as this, it presented him as a man with confidence in his country and an involvement in its government. 

Works Cited

“About Us”. Historic Huguenot Street. https://www.huguenotstreet.org/home. 3 November 2024. 

Breitweiser, William C. “Plaster Cast Collections in the Colonial World”. Cornell University. January 2015. 

“Deyo House Historical Structural Report”. John G. Waite Associates, Architects. 1997. 

Gyure, Dale Allen. “Colonial Revival in America”. University of Virginia. https://colonialrevival.lib.virginia.edu/#:~:text=The%20Colonial%20Revival%20peaked%20in,it%20has%20never%20really%20died. 28 October 2024. 

Jost, Kenneth. “Patriotism in America”. CQ Press. 25 June 1999. 

McGoldrick, Louise. Email to the author. 28 October 2024.