Visits to Old Timey Places

If Elected… (NYHS exhibit)

On Friday night, I finally enjoyed the two free hours offered weekly by the New York Historical Society. I could do that because Sarah Durning was not following me around, saying vulgar things and telling me how hungry she feels. (Several members of my Time Traveling Improv Class met at the uptown museum. More on that in a later entry.)

In those two hours, we visited three exhibits. Here’s the first.

If Elected: The Game of American Politics
July 4, 2008-January 11, 2009

Oh man. I love elections. Following elections is like following sports for people who get nervous about running, falling, jumping, tackling, throwing, diving or balls. It also comes with the added component of having an outcome which is, you know, important. Unlike sports. Zing.

That’s me, speaking truth to athletes.

The exhibit is located on the fourth floor. This is also where NYHS displays all of their chairs.

To start, there’s a column and an L-shaped glass case. The column is covered with campaign buttons and a brief history of button-making - 1916 being a big year for changes in production. The display content leans heavily toward the second half of the 20th century.

Here’s a quick note: when I get married, I’d like it to be in a dress that just has the name “IKE” reprinted all over it.

I’m looking forward to my pre-wedding break-in of the NYHS. I imagine it will be like “From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” meets “27 Dresses.”

There’s a lot about Eisenhower,  although I still think that “liking Ike” falls one behind getting “clean for Gene” on the list of great campaign ideas. Also, while the Society believes the fedora belongs to Truman iconography, I think we can all agree that’s not totally true.

Harry Truman + fedora yields 24,800 google results
Indian Jones + fedora yields 256,000 google results
Some Random Guy + fedora yields 34,800 google results

That’s math.

So, the exhibit starts with this corner case of campaign artifacts and then you move on to -

NOTHING.

That’s the whole exhibit.

My rational mind assumes that the NYHS has been dedicating time to their thorough and impressive Grant vs. Lee exhibit. “If Elected” was most likely a smaller project, presented to recognize the 2008 election and using pieces from their permanent collection.

The other half of my brain sees some kind of commentary on campaign elections - you know, the way they lure you in with promises and then never deliver. Yes. I’m looking at you, Franklin Pierce.

That’s me, speaking truth to Franklin Pierce.

Here’s the link to the exhibit. Now you’ve experienced everything I did. You’re welcome.

Federal Hall: Part Two: Federal Hall

That’s a paintshop rendering of my crude hand-rendering of the map at the entrance to Federal Hall.

Doesn’t everything on there look ridiculously exciting?

If you read that with sarcasm, your heart is black. Go back and read it with a quiet, content joy.

The current special exhibit chronicles Associated Press coverage of the American Presidency. I’ve jumped on the AP is a shell of the unbiased news organization it once claimed to be bandwagon, and was prepared to dismiss the exhibit. That’s not really worth it, since it’s mostly pictures.

The easels are themed. As you walk, you progress from campaigns to international relations to assassinations to “crisis and scandal” to “for the record” (meaning: miscellaneous) to “at war” and “at ease”. Or, from promising to tragic to dispiriting to irrelevant to serious and back again to irrelevant. Or, a pretty accurate reflection of modern media coverage of presidential politics.

Nailed it.

It’s actually a nice exhibit. And interesting. For example, did you know that LBJ had a horse named Lady B after his wife? I don’t come from a horse family, but I assume it’s a compliment.

The main attraction is the permanent inauguration display. Along one wall there is a diorama documenting the march from Washington’s home on Cherry Street (3 Cherry Street to be exact. You could go visit it today except for we put a bridge to Brooklyn there). In my ranking of “People Replicas That are Neat” these figures are second only to lifesize wax statues. Boy, those are creepy-awesome.

Below the march, there’s a glass case of items. No, these aren’t from the inauguration. They’re from the 100th anniversary of the inauguration. Lest you forget, this country loves anniversaries. At the far end of the case, there’s a collection of Washington memorabilia: Washington jugs, buttons, jewelery, frames and stuff I couldn’t identify. The labeling here isn’t the best. In the middle, there’s a pair of buttons. The text says “…These brass buttons, with their patriotic symbols, could have been worn by spectators viewing the events.” Could have been. Spectators. Sheesh.

Along another wall, there are two models of Federal Hall. The first is Federal Hall from 1789-1790. (I knew there was a balcony. I vaguely recall an account of the proceedings which mentioned a balcony. And joyful crying.) Behind the model is a map of lower Manhattan at the time. Then there’s a model of Federal Hall from 1703-1788, with a map of c. 1730 Manhattan behind it.

Just as I was getting in a tizzy about how absolutely nothing here relates directly to the events described, I turned around and saw it. You know, it: the bible on which George Washington was sworn into the Presidency. Go visit and if you’re not moved by that a little bit, you’re mostly dead inside. Or Canadian.

(Harding, Eisenhower, Carter and Bush Sr. all chose that bible as well.)

Moving back into the main hallway, AP exhibit continues followed by a giant piece of stone behind a velvet rope. The slab of rock has this carved into it: “Standing on this stone in the balcony of Federal Hall April 30 1789. George Washington took the oath as the 1st President of the United States of America.” I’m guessing it did not say that in 1789. Zing.

In an open safe (commemorating the time this was a customs house and subtreasury) is a reproduction of the first and last pages of Washington’s inauguration. Two thoughts:

First) he had great handwriting and

Second) damn fine speech.

The ‘speech in the safe’ is a nice shout-out to the various purposes this building has served. Well played.

On the other side of the rotunda is the printing press display, documenting the Zenger jailing and trial. It’s remarkably well-written and attractively presented. I do know a lot about the printing press or the Zenger trial, so I’m unable to create the illusion of being more informed than I am by getting sassy. For now.

I headed towards the back to catch the New York: An American Capital exhibit. I mistakenly assumed it would cover the brief period of time during which New York was The American Capital. Wrong. It’s a placeholder for a visit from the National Archives (at some undetermined time in the future) which covers New York’s history as a theoretical American capital. You know, with all the arts, sports, and historical events. If you want to stare at poor replicas of documents arranged with no clear over-arching concept, by all means - hurry.

I noticed the stairs to the Hamilton exhibit were roped off. When I asked the visitors’ center about it, I was informed no one is allowed upstairs anymore. Apparently nobody told the map by the entrance. Also, apparently New York and Alexander Hamilton are on a break.

The downstairs is just a wide open space with a series of columns in the middle where there used to be vaults. Today, there’s just a Restroom That Doesn’t Trust You. Seriously. From outside, you can only open the door by pushing a large button. Inside there are four stalls and a sink and every time you try to get near enough to close the main door it snaps back open.

In any case, Federal Hall is well worth the visit for 1) the building being so nice, 2) the history of the place 3) the incredible wealth of information and 4) the Bible thing. Go. It’s free, after all.

For all of my above sarcasm, I’m not quite conveying that I actually left in a state of ecstasy (meaning a state of extreme delight or joy, not in a sexy way. Don’t be gross.)

Federal Hall: Part One: Getting there and History

I’ve been on a staycation from work since last week. During that time, the excel spreadsheet of intended historical visits has dwindled slowly until it was left with “Monday: Federal Hall, maybe Museum of American Finance.” That first one sounds like heaven, that last one sounds as boring as…a finance museum. I did not go.

The Federal Hall National Memorial Website recommends taking the 1 train down to the Rector stop. I boarded the train a block from my apartment and, apparently, decided those directions were so simple as to require no further explanation. I got out at Rector and realized the following things

1. The grid system stopped well north of here

2. My “innate sense of direction” is a construct

3. I am not too cool for maps

and

4. I have not been to this part of Manhattan in fifteen years. If ever.

This place has some of my favorite city features: narrow streets, elevated churches, plazas gallore and a High School of Economics and Finance. (How miserably-boring yet promising. What must their prom be like? I need to know immediately.)

The streets have delightful names like Cedar, Liberty, Trinity and Thames. Thames! That’s British. This whole neighborhood is olden-timey.

I eventually wandered into the World Financial Center and was struck with a sudden panic. I’m a good kid. I rarely get in trouble. When I do, it’s usually with strangers who don’t know I’m a good kid. And it’s usually at tourist attractions (ask me about Louisa May Alcott’s desk). To compound this, anything related to money makes me nervous. To compound this compound, anything involving security clearance makes me incredibly nervous. Swallowing the sudden sense of doom, I grabbed a map, oriented myself, and booked it in the direction of Wall Street. Conveniently, I wasn’t so far off track.

Federal Hall is located at 26 Wall Street. From outside, it features one of my favorite things of all things: front steps intended for public assembly. It also has a ridiculously large statue of George Washington. That makes sense since this is where he was inaugurated on April 30, 1789. Kind of.

A brief history of Federal Hall:

It began as New York’s City Hall. Until the revolution, the most notable event was the acquittal of Peter Zenger, a newspaper printer who circulated accurate but unflattering stories about Royal Governor William Cosby. The 1735 tryal (deliberate) served as an appropriate precursor to the Bill of Rights.

In October 1765 nine colonies met to rouse rabbles at the Stamp Act Congress.

Under the Articles of Confederation, Congress met here. This is when New York City was the capital for, like, twenty minutes. Remember? During that time we passed the Northwest Ordinance of 1787. You’re welcome, Ohio.

On March 4, 1789 the first Congress of the United States met, selected their President and let him know. The next month, that inauguration thing happened.

On September 25, 1789 Congress sent twelve amendments to be ratified by the states. That’s right: twelve. The first was an amendment stating that no district for the House of Representatives exceed 50,000 people. New York passed it but it was ultimately rejected. Good call. According to a placard, we’d have a House made up of 6,000 reps. The second was an amendment limiting the ability of a congress to alter their salary. This was rejected until May 7, 1992 when a congressman’s staffer rediscovered the amendment and began the process of pushing it through. Nailed it.

The next year, the capital moved to Philadelphia and eventually Washington, DC. The New York City government remained in the building until 1812 when, for whatever reason, the original building was razed. This information cannot be found anywhere at Federal Hall because National Park Services is pretending it never happened. I had to wikipedia it.

In 1834, construction began on a new building, embracing the Greco-Roman features of the original capitol but simpler. From 1842 to 1862 the building served as a Customs House. From 1862 to 1920 it also became the New York Branch of the Independent Treasury at Lincoln’s insistence. Fun fact: During the panic of 1873, gun turrets were placed on the roof in anticipation of mob violence.

The building became federal offices and a museum in 1924, was designated a national historic site in 1939, and became a national memorial in 1955. The subtlety of these distinctions still escapes me.

Yet to come: the actual visit