Diphtheria Epidemic

By Anne Dealy, Director of Education and Public Information

"Diphtheria prevails to no little extent in Geneva, although there have been but few fatal cases." This brief notice in the October 4, 1878 Geneva Gazette marks the first mention of what would come to be one of the worst epidemics in the community's history. By April 1879 at least 75 people, mostly children, lost their lives. Over 400 of the village's residents fell ill with the disease between September and March 1879. Whole families became sick, and a few parents lost all of their children to the disease. Some people had relatively mild cases, but others had the particularly frightening "membraneous" type, in which a thick gray substance formed over the throat causing the victim to gasp and choke when breathing.

Window in St. Peter’s Episcopal Church tower dedicated to the ten members of the Sunday School class who died in the diphtheria epidemic.

Most Americans today have no experience with this disease, which has been largely eliminated in the west due to vaccination. Symptoms include a sore throat, fever, chills and swollen glands. The illness itself is not deadly, but the diphtheria bacteria can produce a deadly toxin that causes heart damage, nerve damage, paralysis, and lung infection. It is one of many ailments that is particularly devastating to children, but can kill anyone, even those who have had it before.

Aside from dealing with the fear that normally accompanies a disease epidemic, Genevans in 1878 also had no understanding of the cause of diphtheria, nor any real defense against it. The scientific revolution in medicine was just beginning in Europe, and medicine was not yet synonymous with science. Particularly in the United States, there were almost no standards for medical education, nor were there standards for diagnosing disease. Any sore throat could be labeled diphtheria, particularly by an inexperienced doctor. Doctors were free to follow any treatments they believed worked, and they relied on personal observation and experience, rather than evidence, to diagnose and treat illness. As a result, theories of disease causation and treatment varied from the reasonable to the ridiculous.

Some believed open drains, dirt roads and streets strewn with manure caused the 1878 diphtheria epidemic. Castle Street, c. 1870s.

One popular theory circulating in the late 19th-century posited that sewage and filth caused disease. "Filth" could refer to human and animal excrement, trash, swampy land, or rotting plant or vegetable matter. Recognition that water supplies were connected to the spread of diseases like typhoid and cholera led people to conclude that many other ailments resulted from water and air contaminants. One headline in the Geneva Gazette during the epidemic read "Malarial Disease and Its Remedy." The article went on to decry that "Geneva is deplorably defective in sewerage. Without it many people have been accustomed to drain into several little open streams which have their outlets into the lake and canal." The newspapers were full of letters and editorials on the danger of open drains and piles of dead leaves, and the need for a sanitary sewer and safe water system. A sewer system might have prevented waterborne diseases, but would have done nothing to stop the spread of diphtheria, which is transmitted by airborne secretions or contaminated items, like utensils or clothing.

The boards leading from South Main Street’s sidewalks allowed pedestrians to step over the filth in the gutters.

There was some recognition that the disease could be passed from one person to another, but there was no quarantine in effect. By late October, the village Board of Health made several regulations to try to control the spread of the disease, declaring that "The body of every person who has died of diphtheria or scarlet fever, shall be immediately enclosed in an air-tight coffin..." and "No person shall enter any house where there is a case of diphtheria or scarlet fever, unless invited for the purpose of assistance...and no visit shall be made after death..." It did not help that many victims had mild infections, and people assumed the mild form was not as communicable as the "malignant" form. In all likelihood, this difference in severity was not due to the infection itself, but whether or not the diphtheria bacteria had produced its deadly toxin.

Druggist E. Maynard in a mid-November article advocated "the unceasing use of disinfectants in the sick-room and in every room adjoining, and every vessel, slop-jar, etc., etc. that shall contain any secretion of the sick." He went on to recommend burying all clothing or bed clothes that came in contact with discharges from the patient's mouth and washing clothes in carbolic acid. These precautions probably did help prevent transmission of the disease. On the other hand, the next article advocated gargling with kerosene oil as a cure. Many people recognized their helplessness in the face of this disease, "confess[ing] that when [diphtheria] advances to a certain stage, poisoning the blood in the arteries and veins, a cure is impossible."

List of Deaths, Geneva Gazette, November 29, 1878

Among the dead were dry goods merchant George Seelye and his only two children. His wife survived. Civil War veteran Dr. Calvin H. Carpenter, while treating patients with the disease, watched it take his own 11-year old son before he himself fell ill. The doctor's brother then died of it. Three other village doctors also saw their children die. African-American Charles Gates lost his 6-year old daughter Lena May. Machinist Mathew Easterbrook died at 54 years old. Several Hobart students fell ill and the college closed for two weeks. One went home to Syracuse to die there. A sales agent for the Geneva Courier who had just moved from Bellona fled back there with his children, only to watch them both die.

Matthew Easterbrook.

Then in December new cases slowed. From 10-15 deaths a week, losses fell to two or three, then one or two a month. People had no explanation and turned to religion for consolation. Said one mother, "I was distracted when my Bessie went but now I am calm. Bessie and Gracie are together, and safe, safe from every danger."

The village began to examine the cost and methods of creating a sanitary water and sewer system, but the cost was high and many did not think it worthwhile. Over the next decade village voters rejected plans to fund a sewer system multiple times. The community continued to use Castle Creek as an open drain and deposited sewage in Seneca Lake. It would be more than twenty years until the city created a sewer system--about the same time the diphtheria bacteria was identified and an anti-toxin and vaccine were developed, finally preventing the countless deaths caused by the disease.

For more information - 

How Horses Helped Cure Diphtheria 

Neither shall there by any more pain

By Alice Askins, Site Manager at Rose Hill

New York February 24, 1851  

My Dear Margaret

. . . Caroline is now doing very well & has one of the prettiest little girls I ever saw. . . [she] had a better time than usual[,] she took the Ether & did not know when the child was born.”  

Mary Saidler Swan to her daughter-in-law, Margaret Swan

The quest to eliminate pain goes back at least to 3,000 years BCE.  Early cultures used various preparations, including alcohol, opium, and cannabis to relieve pain.  The first documented use of general anesthesia during surgery was performed by the Japanese doctor Hanaoka Seishu.  Trained in both Chinese herbal medicine and Western surgical techniques, Dr. Hanaoka worked for years to develop a compound of plant extracts that would numb pain and cause temporary unconsciousness.  His first recorded operation using his formula took place in October 1804, when he performed a partial mastectomy for breast cancer on a woman named Kan Aiya.  Because the government of Japan kept the country isolated from the rest of the world, Dr. Hanaoka’s achievements were not known in the larger world during his lifetime.   By the time the isolation ended in 1854, different techniques for general anesthesia had already been independently developed in America and Europe.

Dr. Hanaoka Seishu

By the late 1830s, Western doctors and scientists had experimented with such compounds as nitrous oxide, ether, and chloroform.  The interest at that time was in the altered consciousness the compounds caused.  Traveling lecturers would hold public gatherings called “ether frolics,” where members of the audience inhaled ether or nitrous oxide to demonstrate their mind-altering qualities and entertain the onlookers.  Several men who participated in these events later used these substances as medical anesthesia.

Dr. Crawford Long practiced in Jefferson, Georgia.  As a student the University of Pennsylvania, he attended ether frolics.  Long noted that some participants experienced bumps and bruises, but afterward had no memory of the injuries.  In March 1842, he gave ether to James Venable, in order to remove a tumor from the man's neck.  In December 1845, Long first used ether as an anesthetic during childbirth.  The patient’s name seems not to have been recorded.  Because Dr. Long wanted to test ether in many patients over time, before publishing his findings, he did not at first receive credit for his pioneering work.  There was, in fact, considerable controversy about who first used ether for anesthesia, but now Dr. Long’s work is being recognized.

Dr. Crawford Long

We do know the names of two women who became well-known for using anesthesia in childbirth.  Frances “Fanny” Appleton Longfellow, wife of the poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, bore six children.  When her third child was born on April 7, 1847, Dr. Nathan Cooley Keep administered ether to her.  She later wrote,

I did it for the good of women everywhere as no woman should have to suffer that much pain. I am very sorry you all thought me so rash and naughty in trying the ether. Henry's faith gave me courage and I had heard such a thing had succeeded in abroad where the surgeons extend this great blessing more boldly and universally than our timid doctors.... This is certainly the greatest blessing of this age.

Fanny Longfellow with her sons

Emma Darwin, the wife of naturalist Charles Darwin, also tried anesthesia.  Darwin gave chloroform to his wife for the last two of her eight births. The first time she used chloroform was also in 1847, and for the next (and final) birth she is said to have screamed, “Get me the chloroform.”

Historians debate whether conservative clergymen objected to obstetric anesthesia on Biblical grounds.  In Scotland,  Sir James Young Simpson, who advocated chloroform and painless delivery, faced objections from certain Calvinists, who cited Genesis 3:16:   "Unto the woman he said, 'I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children.'”  Opponents interpreted this passage to mean that God wanted women to suffer in childbirth.  It seems, though, that religious opposition to anesthesia was from a vocal minority.  There were also many doctors who were understandably cautious about anesthesia, because it could present dangers to mother and child.

There was a third woman who used anesthesia for childbirth, and she was famous before the issue arose.   Queen Victoria’s eighth child was born in 1853, with his mother under an accurate and controlled dose of chloroform.  She reported, "Dr. Snow gave that blessed chloroform and the effect was soothing, quieting and delightful beyond measure.”  Her example broke down barriers against the practice.  In fact, though, as Dr.  Simpson said,

Medical men may oppose for a time the superinduction of anaesthesia in parturition, but they will oppose it in vain; for certainly our patients themselves will force use of it upon the profession. The whole question is, even now, one merely of time.

Queen Victoria, Prince Albert and their children, 1857

Caroline Post Swan (Margaret Swan’s sister-in-law) tried “the ether” in 1851, before even Queen Victoria.  We might consider her a pioneer as well.

Doing Research

By John Marks, Curator of Collections

In June, I wrote about writing exhibits. I probably should have written this blog first, about researching for exhibits. However, it came to mind this month as I’m teaching Public History: The Theory and Practice of Making History Relevant at Hobart and William Smith Colleges. Teaching something that you’ve done automatically for many years forces you stop and think about the activity more closely.

Kerry Lippincott, our director, asked me to develop a display on Prohibition in Geneva for November’s Geneva Night Out. It’s a pretty general subject with a definite deadline. We agreed this would be a good project for college students to work on. I wrote up an assignment and gave them a list of suggested topics. Each student will do a short product on a specific part of “Prohibition in Geneva.”

Almost immediately, I began hearing, “I can’t find anything on my topic.” I think some students see assignments as tests or as artificial exercises – “the professor knows the answers, I’m just going through the motions to get a grade.” I tell my class, “This is not a drill. This is how my job goes – we pick a topic, we’re not entirely sure what we’ll find on it.”

Some basic tenets of doing research are:

·        If you’re unfamiliar with a subject, start with general information and work toward specifics. Wikipedia and online research is fine for starters.

·        Think about the challenges of the subject. Was it illegal or a cultural taboo? If so, people probably didn’t write about it, take photographs, or leave us other historical evidence

·        Think about language. People develop code words and slang for things, like illegal drinking or drug use, that can’t be discussed openly. Language changes; slang for drinking or intoxication may have been different in the 1920s, so you need to know what to look for.

·        People may be more open about illegal activities decades after the fact. Newspapers in the 1920s may not have much information, but articles from the 1960s or later – long after Prohibition was repealed – may have first-person stories about bootlegging in Geneva.

·        There are no dead ends. If you’ve truly looked everywhere and tried different search terms, then absence of information means something. Why wasn’t something in the newspaper? Was it so taken for granted that it wasn’t newsworthy? (Aside from huge events, newspapers don’t consciously record history – they sell papers). Was it taboo? Did the publisher/ owner of the paper disagree with something and didn’t want to report it? You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but come up with more research questions to figure out the absence.

·        Finally, document everything, including the not-dead-ends. It is easy to forget what research you’ve done, particularly on big projects, so leave yourself a paper trail. In the case of academic assignments, an extensive paper trail may prove to your professor that you really did look everywhere.

“Prohibition in Geneva” will open November 1 for Geneva Night Out, 5-8 pm.

Crafts Then and Now: Godey's Ladies Book

By Karen Osburn, Archivist

Many of my friends are artists and “crafters”, people who create beautiful jewelry, furniture, clothing, housewares, musical instruments and more with their hands.  Through knowing these talented folks a bit of their interests have rubbed off on me and over the years I have tried my hand at a wide variety of crafts including macramé, embroidery, crochet, sketching, sewing and beadwork to name a few.  I find learning new crafts exciting and fun.  Apparently so did women in the 19^th century.

In the Historical Society Library and Archives we have copies of Godey’s Lady’s Book and Magazine dating from 1858 to 1870 and Peterson’s magazine from 1863 to 1877.  They show many examples of handwork for women. Godey’s had a section called “Work Department” and other areas called Novelties, Embroidery and Fashions.  Each of these sections of the magazine had ideas, patterns or suggestions of items to be stitched, altered, crocheted, tatted, embroidered or created by hand.  The archive also has a copy of Catharine E. Beecher and Harriet Beecher Stowe’s The American Woman’s Home which devotes an entire chapter to “Home Decoration”.  Many of the projects in these publications are suggested as a way to make something useful expending as little money as possible.  This seems to have been a common thread in many ladies publications of the 19^th Century.  

It appears that in the past, women of financially stable families were encouraged to do handwork.  In the Historical Society collection we have several samplers by different individuals testifying to proficiency with a needle.  Information gathered from Geneva newspapers, such as the Geneva Gazette of November 1, 1809, which gives notice of a school for girls opening in the instructor’s home that will be for the purpose of “the instruction of Females, in the various branches of usful [sic] and ornamental education-”.  A similar newspaper notice in the Gazette from August 31, 1814 announces, “Geneva Academy, The public are informed that this Academy is now open for the reception of Students.  The Trustees have employed Mr. Ransom Hubbel, as Principal; Mr. Moses Young, and Mrs. S. Mizner as Assistants- all of them experienced and weil [sic] recommended Teachers.  The various branches of Classical and Common Literature, together with plain, and fine Needlework, Painting, Drawing, &c. are taught in this institution, on reasonable terms.  .....”  and one in 1823 that states, “Advertisement for Mrs. Plumb's Female Boarding School- Teaching feminine arts. Includes costs.”  Women were often considered too delicate to acquire an education in mathematics, science or languages like Greek or Latin.  They were guided toward music, art, painting, drawing and sketching, literature and needlework.  In part because of this, magazines like Godey’s became popular since they came with patterns, instructions and pictures as well as stories and advice.

Some of the items promoted in magazines were as fun and interesting to create then as it now.  In the Godey’s Ladies book of February 1864, vol. LXVIII there is a pattern for a beaded watch pocket.  I had the privilege of working with Native American beadwork collections housed at the Rochester Museum & Science Center and the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto and one of the pieces I saw was a beaded watch pocket.  In the 19^th century many Native Americans made beadwork pieces to sell to tourists and the items were popular enough that patterns were printed in women’s magazines so American women could try their hand at them.  Of course this opens room for a discussion as to which came first, Native American bead goods that encouraged women to imitate their product, or a desire for a certain type of product on the part of tourists that caused the indigenous people to create items that catered to that taste?  I don’t know the answer, but I do know that both Native American women, many times from Iroquoian language based groups, did some beautiful beadwork purses, pockets, pincushions, card cases and more, as did other women who had the leisure time to do this type of handwork.  The colors, patterns and varieties are varied and lovely.

What types of items did women create in the 1800s?  We have examples of clothing, embroidery, samplers, feather wreathes, hair jewelry, and hand painted items in the Geneva Historical Society collection.  Some crafts like drawing, painting and crochet continue to be of interest through time.  Other ideas, such as hair wreaths, are seldom created anymore. 

All the women I grew up with did handwork.  My grandmother was capable of looking at a crocheted doily on a neighbor’s table and reproducing it without instructions.  She also did embroidery that was just beautiful. My mother was a very capable sketch artist as well as good at sewing clothes, embroidery, wood carving and crochet.  My sister is good at all those things plus makes incredibly decorated walking sticks.  I also have male friends who have made musical instruments, their own chainmail shirts, carved with chain saws, and made furniture. Crafts and art are an equal opportunity form of expression.

Perhaps you have a favorite hobby?  You may want to look in old books and magazines to find new/old patterns to embroider or crochet; new techniques to try with painting or even a new/old hobby such as stenciling.  There are many satisfying and intriguing historic crafts just waiting to be rediscovered.  I hope this piques your interest enough to investigate your talents.

Pierce and Bickford

By Kerry Lippincott, Executive Director

There are many subjects that I consider myself fairly knowledgeable about, but architecture is not one of them.  Like art, I like what I like.  However, while working for the Chemung County Historical Society in Elmira I couldn't help but learn a thing or two about the architectural firm of Pierce and Bickford. The firm built a variety of structures in and around Elmira, including Elmira City Hall, F.M. Howell and Co. building, Hedding Methodist Church and several private homes.  To my surprise, I've discovered that Pierce and Bickford have a connection to Geneva.  In the early 1890s, they built and designed the YMCA building (76-86 Castle Street) and the Smith Opera House.

YMCA Building

Born in Dundee, Joesph H. Pierce (1855-1932) came to Elimira to study under the architect Eugene B. Gregory.  Within a year Pierce was working for William H. Hayes (the first graduate of Cornell's architecture program).  Between 1883 and 1890, Pierce had a partnership with engineer Otis Dockstader.  Though the firm of Pierce and Dockstader constructed a variety of buildings, they specialized in residential homes and churches.  In 1890 Hiriam H. Bickford (1863-1928) joined the firm as a draftsman.  Little is actually known about Bickford.  Born in Vermont, Bickford worked for several firms in the Northeast before coming to Elmira.

In 1891 Piece and Bickford formed their own firm.  Based out of Elmira, they would design and construct schools, churches, private homes, apartment houses, commerical buildings, hospitals, public buildings and other structures in New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania.  In all Pierce and Bickford built several hundred buildings and designed the renovations of many more.   A number of Pierce and Bickford's buildings are on the National Register of Historic Places.  These include Dundee Methodist Church, First Baptist Church in Painted Post, Elmira Heights Village Hall, Fire Station No. 4 in Elmira, and the Clifton Springs Sanitarium (the Spa Apartments).

After Bickford's death in 1928 his son Robert (who had served as a draftsman at the firm for several years) became Pierce's partner.

For more information about Pierce and Bickford, read Architects of Standing: Pierce & Bickford Elmira, NY, 1890-1932 by Roger G. Reed.

Smith Opera House

Early Food Preservation in the Finger Lakes

By Anne Dealy, Director of Education and Public Information

Living in the Finger Lakes, it is impossible to miss the recent emphasis on fresh, local, organic produce. People today examine and question what they put into their bodies. It is an important element of the Finger Lakes region’s tourism business. Of course, this is a problem that comes only when you have choices about what to eat and, in the United States at least, often an unlimited supply of things to eat. For most of human history, the problem of food was ensuring you had enough to survive. Preserving food when it was available was essential to surviving the long months of winter when it was scarce. Traditional methods of preserving include drying; salting; pickling in vinegar; smoking; fermenting; preserving milk products by making butter and cheese; and preserving in sugar. More recently, canning, refrigeration and freezing were added to the mix.

The first people in the Finger Lakes to deal with the problem of preserving food were the Six Nations of the Haudenosaunee or Iroquois: the Seneca, Cayuga, Oneida, Onondaga, Mohawk and Tuscarora. They and their ancestors adapted to the lake environment over thousands of years. They cultivated crops, foraged for wild plants, and hunted and fished wild game. The primary crops they depended on were the Three Sisters: corn, beans and squash. Native peoples gathered blueberries, strawberries, cranberries, raspberries and blackberries. The corn they relied on was not the sweet corn we love today, but a starchy white corn that could be dried for soups or ground into meal. Once dry, it was stored in granaries, like the large palisaded fort that was at Ganondagan [link to http://www.ganondagan.org/] in the 17^th century. From there it could be transported or traded. Fish and game were plentiful, including salmon, deer, bison, turkey and other wildfowl. Most of these foods were preserved by drying over a fire or by the sun and wind. Dried strips of meat were pounded to shreds and then mixed with melted fat or lard, a small amount of bone marrow, and some dried fruit to make a long-lasting food that was easy to carry. Called pemmican, European explorers and frontiersmen adopted this Native food to sustain them on long trips.

White corn grown as part of the Ganondagan State Historic Site White Corn Project

Most of the earliest non-Native settlers were from New England towns. They had no experience living off the land and wanted to reshape the environment to reflect their values and culture. This meant taming the wilderness with neat houses, fenced livestock, and fields of cultivated wheat. In 1852, Orsamus Turner interviewed some of the remaining pioneers and wrote the History of the Phelps and Gorham Purchase and the History of the Holland Land Purchase to chronicle their efforts to transform Western New York. His books include stories of privation and near starvation in the 1790s as these families traveled to settle newly purchased land. Many immigrants underestimated the provisions needed to survive the journey from settled parts of the state. One New England family arrived in March at Colonel Seth Reed’s house in Geneva, “destitute of provisions.” All Reed had to share with them was one loaf of bread. Fortunately for them, a ship arrived that afternoon supplied with flour, which they purchased for the remainder of their journey. Salt pork and corn meal were the basis of a limited diet supplemented by whatever wild foods could be found or hunted. When Nicholas Stansell’s family ran out of supplies in Lyons, they bought corn from the Onondaga and relied for food on their cow’s milk, forest greens, and the abundant venison and fish they caught.

These settlers brought traditional English food preferences with them. This meant meals of boiled or roasted meat, soups or stews, boiled vegetables, pickles, porridges, pies, puddings, breads, and cakes. With poor transportation and no ready sources of salt, sugar or vinegar, most of these dishes were impossible to make in the earliest settlements. Women accustomed to using fireplaces and bake ovens to prepare food had to learn to cook over an open fire with limited ingredients. Salt and other supplies had to be conveyed west in Durham boats or bateaux, boats shallow enough to navigate the rivers and streams of the Finger Lakes and light enough to carry between navigable waters. It could take weeks or months to get supplies from Schenectady to Lyons or up the Susquehanna to Seneca Lake and Geneva. Then it was days more for a man to get his purchases from these outposts back home.

Durham boats were used on New York’s inland waters until the canal era began in 1817.

The first crops most families started were grain crops that would supply bread and porridge.  Storage crops of beans, potatoes and turnips would also have been among the first planted. Some men visited their land and planted grains, hoping to have a crop to harvest when they returned with their families. Others cleared enough land to build a rude shelter and plant corn and potatoes anywhere the sun could reach. The first livestock brought to the area were oxen to clear and plow the land, cows for milk, and hogs for meat. Pigs could be left to roam the woods and feed themselves, and then hunted for food. Cows’ milk carried families through lean times and could be preserved by making butter or cheese, even in difficult circumstances. One early immigrant made her cheese on a tree stump, using a stone for her press. Another woman with an outdoor press lost her cheese to a bear.

Instructions for drying fish and beef appeared in cookbooks like the 1798 American Cookery and 1838 Virginia Housewife.

Drying was probably the first and easiest method of preserving food because it could be done with as little as fire, wind or sun. Grains and legumes could be easily stored if kept dry, while fruits, vegetables, meat and fish required more attention. Once transportation became a bit more reliable and salt and vinegar were readily available, families would brine their meat and pickle vegetables to preserve them. Meat had to be rubbed in every crevice with salt and packed in a tub of salt for 10 days. Then it would be put into a barrel of brine. Cookbook author Mary Randolph’s recommendation was 15 quarts of salt to 15 gallons of water to one pound of saltpeter. Then before cooking, the meat had to be soaked for a day to release the salt and make it tolerable to eat.

By the first decade of the 1800s, the earliest homesteads began to resemble the third stage of settlement illustrated in Turner’s History of the Holland Land Purchase. The forest is seen only in the distance and a frame house stands next to the old pioneer cabin. Fences enclose the yards and sheds and a barn protect the livestock. An extensive garden is planted next to the house, while the corn grows neatly in the field and a small orchard is laid out to provide more fresh food and greater opportunities for preserving it.

Turner’s History of the Holland Land Purchase includes illustrations of farms through four stages of development in Western New York.

By this time, 1791 traveler Elkanah Watson’s vision was being realized of the day “when the waters of this lake will be stripped of nature’s livery and in its place ruck [zig-zag] enclosures, pleasant villas, numerous flocks, herds, etc., and inhabited by a happy race of people enjoying the rich fruits of their own labors, and the luxury of sweet liberty and independence approaching to a millennial state.”

Sources:

Recipes from Ganondagan

Living In The Past

Mary Randolph. The Virginia Housewife

Sue Shephard. Pickled, Potted, Canned: How the Art and Science of Food Preserving Changed the World

Amelia Simmons. American Cookery

Orsamus Turner. History of the Phelps and Gorham Purchase

An Officer and an Artist

By Alice Askins, Site Manager for Rose Hill Mansion 

Waldo Hutchins

J. George Stacey Jr. painted the portraits of Waldo Hutchins and Margaret Hutchins that currently hang in the Music Room at Rose Hill.  When I looked for more information about George Stacey, I found that he was a versatile and busy man.

Born in 1863 on the family farm in Fayette, east of Rose Hill, George spent his adult life in Geneva.  As a boy he showed artistic talent and the Historical Society owns one of his boyhood sketchbooks.  Though George had an eye for the details of everyday life, his favorite subjects  were weapons and fighting.  In 1881, the Geneva Advertiser reported that “Mr. J. George Stacey of Geneva will attend the State shoot in June, being one of the best shots in the Seneca Gun Club of Waterloo.”  The previous year he had enlisted in the Folger Corps, a militia unit that became part of the NY National Guard in 1880.  By 1887, he was Quartermaster of the 34^th Separate Company, which had evolved from the Folger Corps. 

 

Childhood Sketch

George graduated from Hobart College in 1886.   Four years later the Advertiser ran a notice that Charles Burrall had taken J. George Stacey Jr. as his partner in E. J. Burrall & Son Insurance.  (The Stacey and Burrall families were related.)  One can picture George in the ‘90s, working with his cousin and spending a lot of time at the armory moving up the ranks.  In May 1898, the 34^th was mustered into the army for the Spanish-American War, and among the officers was Captain J. George Stacey Jr.  The 34^th went to Camp Alger in Virginia, but never saw action.  By August, George had typhoid fever and was not expected to live.  His fiancée, Bessie Langdon, rushed to his side for what everyone thought was a deathbed wedding.  Fortunately, George pulled through; the newspapers found this “Romantic.”  

Once home, George continued his work with the National Guard, but professional he seems to have switched from insurance to plumbing.  In March of 1901 he put a notice in the Daily Times, announcing that he had dissolved his partnership with Dorchester and Rose, in a steam fitting and plumbing business and from now on, Stacey would do plumbing by himself.  In August 1902, he bid $2,640 on the plumbing contract for the YMCA building.  As it turned out, nobody got the contract – the YMCA decided they did not have the money for plumbing after all.  In April of 1904, the Times reported that Stacey had won the contract for the installation of sewer and water connections in the Geneva streets that were to be paved that year.  Shortly after, George took the Master Plumber exam.  In 1905 he started running an ad in the Times:  “IF YOU ARE GOING TO BUILD THIS SPRING, ask J. George Stacey to bid on your Plumbing, Heating, and Ventilating.  You will not only get a fair price, but also some valuable ideas.”

Margaret Hutchins

While building his plumbing business, George continued to be active in the community.  He helped organize the yacht club in the late 1890s.  When he attended the first meeting of the new Chamber of Commerce in 1902 - he was asked to speak, but refused because he was unprepared.  Also in 1902, the Daily Times said he was the probable Republican nominee for President of the Common Council, though apparently he never took that office.  For the rest of his life, he held such honorary appointments as Grand Marshal of the Military and Industrial Parade (July 4, 1910,) judge at the Fireman’s Parade (August 1914,) and one of the committee considering a new proposal for a veteran’s memorial in Pulteney Park (1937).

For several years Captain Stacey ran the 34^th .    He was not afraid to try new ideas.  In 1901 he replaced the glaring arc lamps in the armory drill shed, with softer gas lamps, which he considered a qualified success.  He thought about installing a swimming pool in the armory, and traveled to New York City to find out about options and costs.  This plan seems not to have worked out.  In 1902, George allowed a businessmen’s gym class to use the drill room on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday afternoons.  The police also arranged to use the gym and shooting range at the armory. 

The Times reported that Captain Stacey was President of delinquency court where members of the 34^th had to answer for unexcused absences from parades and drills, and for being behind in their dues.  In November of 1902, 60 guardsmen were summoned to the court; “Capt. Stacey. . .Was Lenient With the Militiamen.”  The fines levied were nominal, and many of the excuses “ludicrous.”  Sadly, the paper did not report the excuses in detail.  The Times did note that one of the men called Stacey on the phone, “and pleaded guilty by wire.”

Self-Portrait, ca. 1924

In 1904, George resigned from the Guard.  With the demands of his business, he could not give the 34^th Separate Company the time it required.  His resignation must have been temporary, though – in 1913, The Syracuse Herald announced that Captain Stacey was retiring after 26 years of service.  He believed a younger person should take up the burden of Captain of the company.  At this point he received the brevet (temporary) rank of Major.  During World War I George trained the high school cadets from Geneva, Waterloo, Seneca Falls, Phelps, and Ovid.  For this work, he received the full rank of Major, though he preferred to be called Captain.

It is safe to assume that while he was in the middle of two careers, plus fatherhood and public service, George had little time for art.  Warren Hunting Smith tells us, in Gentle Enthusiasts, that George returned to it increasingly in his 50s.  Mrs. Stacey and her sister had inherited a Gothic Revival house on Jay Street, and George had a studio in the barn.  His works were exhibited and sold locally, and sometimes received commissions for portraits.  (Smith says that his portraits of men were commissioned, but his portraits of women were for fun.)  He studied at the Art Students’ League in New York, and spent a summer at an art colony at Provincetown in the 1920s.  Though best known for his portraits, George also produced a few still lifes.   In 1927 one of his still lifes, a study of Japanese vases and oriental rugs, won a prize in an art show in Rochester in 1927.  Hallett Burrall Jr. remembered his cousin George paying him ten cents an hour in 1932 to sit for his portrait.  Hallett could not sit still for more than an hour, so the portrait took most of the summer to finish.  Warren Hunting Smith tells us that a visiting architect thought Stacey painted with much of John Singer Sergeant’s bravura – a compliment that may have pleased Stacey more because of the military echoes of the name.

Landscape

J. George Stacey died in 1951, leaving behind an admirable record of useful energy and creativity.