Made in New York: Recent Gifts from Mr. and Mrs. Stuart Feld, Part I

People often call Bartow-Pell to find out when we are open or if they can schedule wedding photos or a school field trip. But when the phone rang one morning in December of 2011, the voice on the other end of the line belonged to Stuart Feld of the Hirschl & Adler Galleries, offering to donate two New York tables to the museum.

One, a ca. 1820 trestle-base mahogany library table, was attributed to Duncan Phyfe (1770–1854). The other was a ca. 1815 Pembroke table formerly in the collection of the distinguished Metropolitan Museum of Art curator Berry Tracy, who had given a memorable lecture at the mansion in 1966, describing it as “a magnificent example of the Greek Revival style in America…one of the finest houses of its period.” In the 19^th century, the Bartow mansion was only 16 miles from New York City, a major American cabinetmaking center. In fact, the family lived there before moving to their country estate, and Robert Bartow’s publishing offices on Pearl and Water Streets were only a short walk from Duncan Phyfe’s shop on Fulton Street in lower Manhattan.

The handsome library table donated by Mr. and Mrs. Feld now graces the downstairs sitting room, and the Pembroke table is set for a cozy breakfast near the fireplace in George Bartow’s bedchamber.These exciting gifts arrived just before the opening of Duncan Phyfe: Master Cabinetmaker in New York, a major exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and The World of Duncan Phyfe: The Arts of New York, 1800–1847 at the Hirschl & Adler Galleries on Fifth Avenue and 57^th Street. The exhibition websites offer a taste of what we missed, and a further indication of how lucky we are to have received these beautiful gifts:

http://metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2011/duncan-phyfe-master-cabinetmaker-in-new-york

http://hirschlandadler.com/exhibitions_1.html?id=3538

Margaret Highland
Curator

Profiles and Poetry: Bounty from a Holiday Giving Tree

The old Bartow mansion looks especially beautiful during the holiday season. Bedecked with festive greenery, garlands, twinkling fairy lights, and storybook Christmas trees, the house is a place where dreams really can come true.

Unknown Gentleman, 1846. Cut-out and gilded silhouette on paper.
Bartow-Pell Landmark Fund in honor
of Mary Means Huber 2012.04

“What do we need to acquire for the collection?” the holiday committee asked me a couple of weeks before our upcoming fundraisers. “We’re thinking about including a holiday giving tree for one or two objects.” Here was a chance to turn curatorial dreams into reality!

The walls in George Bartow’s bedchamber were a little bare, and for some time we had thought that a full-length silhouette portrait of a gentleman would be ideal there. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could get one? And what better way to celebrate the success of our recent exhibition Shade and Shadow: A Selection of British and American Silhouettes?

It was easy to come up with another item on our wish list. Robert Bartow owned a publishing company with his brothers William Augustus and George, producing handsome leather-bound books from about 1815 to 1826. Their most ambitious project was a multi-volume series of British poetry. Our goal is to collect each one since Mr. Bartow undoubtedly had a complete set here.

Teenage Boy with a Top Hat, 2nd quarter of the 19th century. Watercolor on paper.
Bartow-Pell Landmark Fund 2012.05

And now for the happy ending. We were able to buy not one, but two silhouettes for George’s bedchamber—a dapper gentleman and a teenage boy—and three poetry books by Burns, Milton, and James Thomson (now in the south parlor bookcase).

We are grateful to each and every generous donor for making our dreams come true. Thank you!

Margaret Highland
Curator

What Can You Learn from Old Clothes?

For many, the word “fashion” is synonymous with “superficial.”  If something goes “out of fashion,” it is gone quickly; if it is “just a fashion” it does not have much importance and will soon be forgotten. However, looking at past fashions — including clothing, accessories, and fashion magazines, can actually reveal quite a lot. What kinds of activities did our ancestors do day to day, and what social attitudes did they have? What did people in earlier eras think about their personal image, and what were their standards for beauty? How did they differentiate themselves from others, in terms of class or profession? Answers to all of these questions and others can be found through looking at historic clothing and accessories.

Child’s wool dress, ca. 1855-1865
Collection of Mary Means Huber

The Bartow-Pell Mansion Museum has a number of clothes in its collection that can tell these kinds of stories. For example, there is a child’s dress from the mid-19^th century currently on display in the entrance hall of the Mansion. In the 21^st century, we may see a dress like this and assume it was worn by a young girl. In fact, for many centuries, both boys and girls wore dresses as toddlers. Boys would stop wearing dresses when they were “breeched,” at the age of three or four, or sometimes even later. Only at that point would they begin to wear pants or breeches. Paintings dating as far back as the 16^th century show young boys in dresses. Often, the boys in these paintings are distinguished from girls only by their hairstyles (girls’ hair was typically kept longer, and by the 19^thcentury, parted in the middle), or by the objects they hold, such as toy swords.

Why did this custom exist, and why did it last for so long? Historians have a number of theories. It seems logical that before modern clothing fastenings, like snaps and Velcro, it was easier to change a child’s diaper if he or she wore a loose-fitting dress, rather than a more restricting or complicated complicated garment. This might explain why little boys usually stopped wearing dresses around the age they were toilet-trained.  (Although not always — on a whim, the mother of French author François Timoléon de Choisy dressed him as a girl until he was eighteen!)

Carte de visite of young boy
ca. 1860-1865

Before the introduction of factory-made fabric in the early 19^thcentury, clothing for all classes of people was more expensive, and it would have been easier to enlarge a dress to accommodate a fast-growing child than other garments.

Another theory is that the youngest children in a family would have been cared for by their mothers or female nurses, and it would have been appropriate for them to wear skirts regardless of their gender. After his son was breeched and wore more masculine clothes, a father might become more involved in his son’s care, often beginning to prepare the boy for a future profession.

For the red wool dress at Bartow-Pell, we do not have any documentation about who originally made or owned it. Therefore, it is impossible to say whether it was worn by a girl or a boy. Looking at a garment like this, it is easy to wonder, “Did boys mind that they were dressed as girls?” But for earlier generations, wearing this kind of dress wasn’t thought of as “dressing like a girl.” It was simply the appropriate way for all small children to look. A little boy may have looked forward to being breeched, as it meant he had become more grown-up, but that doesn’t mean he was necessarily bothered by wearing the same clothing as his sister.

Carte de visite of young child,
ca. 1860-1865

 

Our red wool dress is just one example of how clothing can reveal the social trends and customs of earlier periods. Some ideas that we take for granted today — such as separate clothing for boys and girls — were not always hard and fast. We can read about the attitudes our ancestors had and the traditions they followed, but a dress like this shows how they put them into practice.

Sarah Pickman, Museum Intern

Sources:

Ashelford, Jane. The Art of Dress: Clothes Through History, 1500­ – 1914. London: National Trust, 2011.

Baumgarten, Linda. What Clothes Reveal: The Language of Clothing in Colonial and Federal America. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002.

Callahan, Colleen. “Children’s Clothing.” The Berg Fashion Library. 2005. http://www.bergfashionlibrary.com.library.metmuseum.org/view/bazf/bazf00124.xml (accessed Aug. 10, 2012)

Steele, Valerie ed. The Berg Companion to Fashion. New York: Berg, 2010.

Victoria & Albert Museum of Childhood. “Boy’s Dress.” http://www.museumofchildhood.org.uk/collections/clothing/boys-dress/ (accessed Aug. 10, 2012)

The Early Pells: Life in a Colorful 17th Century World

King Charles I by Antoon Van Dyck

We tend to think of our ancestors – if we think of them at all – as living in a world of black-and-white photos, stiff collars and wooden expressions.  But the truth is much more colorful.  Our ancestors lived in a world that pulsed with mortal danger, vivid intrigue and quickly-changing fortunes – a world that can make our own lives seem pretty bland by comparison.  The early generations of the Pell family, the founders of Pelham and the Bartow-Pell Mansion, give us many examples of that colorful world that we may not know much about.

Ruth and Consequences Why did the Pells come to America at all?  In 1635, Thomas Pell was 22 years old, and was serving as a “groom-in-waiting” (a page) in the royal court of King Charles I of England.  A continued, comfortable life in the royal court was his for the asking.  But then Thomas met Ruth, one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, who had recently arrived from France.  It turned out that neither Thomas nor Ruth were very good at “waiting” because Thomas was soon “caught making love” to Ruth, right in the royal court.  In order to “save his neck,” Thomas quickly fled to the English colonies in North America.  Perhaps the Pell family motto should have been “Vive la France”?  In any event, Thomas Pell had now established himself as a risk-taker.

The Treaty Oak

Staring down the Dutch By 1654, Thomas Pell was a wealthy resident of colonial Fairfield, Connecticut.  Fifty miles away was the Dutch colony of New Amsterdam, supported by the powerful Dutch Navy.  In a bold move to extend English power in North America, Pell sailed down to where the Bartow-Pell Mansion now stands – just ten miles from Manhattan.  He then signed a treaty with the Native American tribes living nearby, and set up his own English outpost.  Under Pell’s treaty, he purchased over 9,000 acres of land – all of today’s northern Bronx and southern Westchester County – in exchange for several barrels of Jamaican rum.  The Dutch were incensed at this attempt to block the northward expansion of their colony.  But when they arrived at Pell’s outpost to demand his withdrawal, they found that they had brought knives to a gunfight.  They were “roughly handled” by a dozen men with pistols, and sent back to Manhattan empty-handed.  Meanwhile, the ongoing naval war between the Dutch and the English turned in favor of England, and New Amsterdam became New York in 1664.  Thomas Pell’s ownership of his vast estate was later confirmed by a royal decree, and he became known as the “First Lord of the Manor of Pelham.”

Marrying an Indian Princess The land that Thomas Pell had purchased was not always friendly to English settlers.  In 1643, Anne Hutchinson and her followers had been killed by some of the same Native Americans who signed the treaty with Pell in 1654.  The Hutchinson River and Parkway are reminders today of that bloody event.  But local lore says that when the Hutchinson settlers were killed, one little English girl was spared – and that she later became the wife of “Anhooke,” a Native American chief who lived near today’s Split Rock golf course.  Local lore goes on to say that the “Third Lord of the Manor of Pelham” – also named Thomas Pell – married an “Indian Princess” who had descended from that little English girl and Anhooke.  Together, Thomas and his Indian Princess lived in a grand “Manor House” that stood near today’s Bartow-Pell Mansion.

Loyalists and Rebels What happened to that first Manor House?  Well, for most of the Revolutionary War, Manhattan was occupied by the British.  But the British could never extend their control beyond Manhattan; Pelham and the Manor House stood in “the Neutral Ground,” a 30-mile-wide no-man’s-land between the opposing armies.  Loyalists who lived in the Neutral Ground flocked into Manhattan, seeking protection from the British.  The Pells, who lived in the Manor House during the war were among those Loyalists.  They fled to Manhattan and abandoned the Manor House, which was then burned to the ground.  After the war, they moved to Canada.  But not all Pells were Loyalists.

The Pell family cemetery at Bartow-Pell Mansion Museum.

 Philip Pell III was a great-grandson of Thomas Pell,  the Third Lord of the Manor.  He served with distinction in George Washington’s Continental Army, rising to the rank of Colonel.  He was part of Washington’s escort of honor when the Continental Army re-entered Manhattan in 1783 after the British surrender and evacuation.  He enjoyed a distinguished legal and judicial career after the Revolution, and died in 1811.

~ Mark Campisano

Tools from the Past: A Conversation with the Collector

What does the man who has amassed a collection of over 10,000 antique gardening tools spanning several centuries and originating from more than a few continents and countries NOT have? What does he covet? A terra cotta watering pot circa 1600 AD of course.  And what is his oldest tool? A pair of scissors from the late 1500’s…

Landscape Architect Mark Morrison’s impressive and stunningly beautiful collection of antique garden implements fills his studio and garage space in upstate New York. The rarely seen collection includes a wide array of specialized instruments, from cucumber straighteners and wasp catchers to trowels, watering cans and scythes.  A select segment of his collection is now being shown here at Bartow-Pell in an exhibit entitled “Dibbles and Daisy Grubbers: The Art of the Garden Tool”.  To my mind, anyone with an interest in history, preservation, gardening, art or antiques should put it on their ‘must-see’ list.

I caught up with Mark earlier two weeks ago, as he was installing the Bartow-Pell exhibit.  “Ever since I was a young boy growing up in Illinois, I’ve loved old metal rusty things,” said Mark, handing me an elegant English lady’s spade with nary a rust speck on it. The tool was lightweight and wonderful to hold, with sharp prongs designed to slice easily through turf and soil. The wooden shaft shone, burnished by decades of use in a long forgotten garden in England. I wanted to run outside and start digging. “During summers working as a furniture mover in Wisconsin, I loved looking through barns of old stuff.”  Thus his hobby began, 35 years ago. Since then Mark has travelled the world, from North America to Europe, Asia and Africa and he has amassed a knowledge and collection with few rivals. When I asked whether he knew of anyone else with a similar passion, Mark mentioned the Museum of Tools and Trade (Maison de l’Outil et de la pensee ouvrieree) in Troyes, France as another fine collection.  It boasts 10,000 tools from a variety of trades.

In Bartow-Pell’s exhibit visitors can see custom-made leather lawn boots, which horseswore over their hooves so that while pulling a lawn mower they didn’t harm the grass on which they walked. Gardens grow a wide range of vegetables and it seems that each required a specific tool. In 19th century France, people preferred their asparagus with a tender pale white stem. For that they devised an elegant tool to suit the task, a long implement which could be inserted down the length of the plant, into the soil where a clever gardener could make a clean cut. Of course the English did not concur; they liked a young green asparagus shoot, and so devised their asparagus cutter differently. The exhibit displays both tools, the French and the English asparagus cutter, side by side, each an example of the beauty of a perfectly crafted tool.

For the current exhibit, Morrison and curator Barbara Burn Dolansek selected implements that would have been used at the time the Bartow family lived in the residence, the later half of the 19^th century. The tools are presented in sections according to their function: prepping the soil, planting, cultivating, pruning, controlling pests, harvesting and watering.

And by the way, what would a terra cotta watering pot circa 1600 AD cost?  About $20,000,  Mark estimated.  WOW!

Cynthia Brown, Bartow-Pell Conservancy Board Member

NOTE: The exhibit can be viewed when the Mansion is open to the public, Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday from noon until 4:00 pm. On Tuesday, April 17 at 7:30 pm Mark Morrison will give a talk on “The History and Evolution of Garden Tools.”

A Winter Garden Awakens

I have often wondered what it would be like to awaken a bear in the middle of his hibernating sleep in winter.  Would it be a brusque encounter, or would it be peaceful, like a newborn infant awakening on his own without complaint and surrounded by happiness? I like to think it would be the latter. There are no bears in the northern Bronx, where Bartow-Pell is located, but I often think of awakening gardens as slumbering bears. Of course, this is a bear that is green in color, has long branching arms and a docile fragrant smell, the smell of early spring flowers.  And climate change may be the rude awakening we have imposed on our slumbering garden.  A winter walk through the grounds at Bartow-Pell is unlike any other year in memory.  Autumn came, and despite the surprising snowstorm in October, we have had precious little snow. And the cold spells we have had have always been followed by weather that feels decidedly springlike.

Pushing through the thick ground-covering mats of ivy and pachysandra, delicate white hanging flowers have been sprouting from the ground. Gardeners have long considered these harbingers of spring. Galanthus, commonly known as snowdrops in America, or “sneeuwklokjes” (Dutch for “snow clocks”) in The Netherlands, have sprouted around the grounds. Galanthus, from the greek ‘gala‘ (milk) combined with ‘anthos‘ (flower) are the most pronounced markers of the progression of time in a garden.

Galanthus are best enjoyed en masse rather than alone on solitary stems. They increase quite rapidly by producing bulb offsets underground and by seed, which is spread about by ants. Seedlings propagated by these tiny horticulturists are not the same as the true parent. By reason of their small stature, differences often go unnoticed and very few people realize that it is possible, by a judicious choice of species, to have snowdrops flowering in the garden from October to April.

But the Galanthus nivalis prominent in our landscapes typically bloom in early March and occasionally the last day or two of February. This year, they started springing up in early February. Plants, like Galanthus, provide valuable information about our climate and could provide an early warning of the effects of climate change.

Galanthus are easy to grow and are quite hardy, blooming in sunshine or in semi-shade, in fairly damp heavy soil. Snowdrop classification is determined by the position of the leaves as they emerge from the ground and by the flower characteristics. Galanthus nivalis adapts itself easily to garden cultivation, spreading rapidly and forming vast white carpets in springtime, a truly wonderful sight.

Soon I expect to venture into the garden with my magnifying glass and a book on the genus Galanthus to identify which ones are blooming on our grounds. While I am out there, I will also be mindful of my step so I do not trample these diminutive and elegant flowers. They only come once a year, but the wait is well worth it.

Text by Luis Marmol,  Assistant Curator of Gardens
Photographs by Marcel de Kok.

Look, Don’t Touch

Look, don’t touch. This was a concept that gave me quite a bit of trouble as a child visiting museums. From carved marble resembling fabric to the brushstrokes of Impressionist paintings, everything begged to be examined with more than just my eyes.

It gets harder to follow the mantra of look, don’t touch at historic homes such as the Bartow-Pell Mansion Museum. Each object on display was designed to be touched, held, sat on, eaten off of, played with, lit, and blown out. Arranged in each room of the house, the objects hold the memory of having just been touched and together give off an expectant air as if a person from long ago has just stepped out of the room for a moment. As visitors, this ambiance allows us to suspend time for a moment and immerse ourselves in the history of the place. The objects take on life, telling the story in place of those who lived here so long ago.

We feel the pull to allow ourselves to reach out and touch and complete the process of immersion, and yet we stop and pull our hand back. These objects also have a life as a numbered, labeled part of a collection. Sorted in our database by their accession number, each has its own associated set of data. In this capacity, the objects remind us that what they can tell us is equally as important as what they evoke.

BPMM intern Julia Rogers works with collection photos on Past Perfect software

As an intern, I am currently working on a project that will expand our objects’ ability to tell us about their history. Using Past Perfect software, Bartow-Pell has created a database with records on every acquisition. Recently, another intern began the project of photo-documenting each object. I am continuing the work by taking the completed photographs and pairing them with their catalog entries in Past Perfect.  More than just a glamour shot, each object has multiple views showing it photographed near a yardstick with additional close-up shots of important details.  By adding the pictures, we are letting the object serve as data in the system.

The furniture, lamps, statues, plates, paintings, and toys here at Bartow-Pell each live simultaneously as objects in a home and artifacts of history. Collectively, they help us to understand our past, whether through their ability to document the ways and means of everyday activity or through their ability to evoke a memory of a past that was gone before we were ever alive.

Julia Rogers, Museum Intern