Walls Have Ears:

Good Evening, Governor.
17 and 26 Front Street

Every school day I used to pedal my bike past the site of the former City flail, where the recently demolished Union Street School stood, and cross the Bridge over the Erie Canal. It was this bridge that often used to cause us kids in the Stockade Area great concern, because the elephants in the Circus Parade unfailingly balked at crossing it. We were held in suspense, never knowing for sure whether we would see the cautious pachyderms so gaily bedecked in riotous color with gorgeous ladies riding on their heads and turbaned trainers guiding them. Of course, if the elephants refused to make the crossing we would not see the cages of ferocious beasts drawn by plumed horses, and we would miss the music of the calliope.

There was no such concern as this when at 7 P.M. on the eve of June 11, 1825 the boats, carrying General Lafayette, his son and entourage, docked by the bridge and the gentlemen disembarked to be greeted by Mayor Schermerhoorn. The concern and suspense had occurred earlier in the week. The Hero and Friend of the United States was scheduled to arrive two days earlier. The City was in readiness, a pavilion having been built in front of the City Hall, arrangements made for a banquet at Givens Hotel, where Jay Jewelry now is, and the bridge at Union Street decorated with banners proclaiming, “Welcome Lafayette.” The banks of the Canal were lined with people. But where was the famous guest? The concern was such that a courier was sent out with orders to advise the City Fathers as to the whereabouts and progress of the General’s party. All were relieved when the report came back that Lafayette would arrive on Saturday evening.

After giving a welcoming address, His Honor, the Mayor, introduced the Marquis to the members of the Corporation, several other citizens and a number of Revolutionary heroes, some of whom the General recognized. Then a procession was formed and the party proceeded down Union Street across Church and up State to Givens’. Until quite recently this was always the line of march for any parade. But what a procession this must have been to see! It was headed by a Battalion of Horse Artillery. Then came a band, followed by Heavy Artillery, Light Infantry, the Schenectady Greys, the City Guard and the Union Guards; next the Band of the 57th Regiment, behind which were the officers of the 57th, then Revolutionary Veterans and now the General and “suit” in carriages followed by members of the Corporation and the Committee on Arrangements, also in carriages. Next in the line of march were the Free and Accepted Masons, Sheriff and Deputies, Judges and Magistrates, Gentlemen of the Bar, Medical Gentlemen, the Faculty and Students of Union College, and finally Citizens and Strangers. The banquet at Givens’ was lavish, starting with a toast to the honored guest; then to Washington, to the Cause of Freedom, on and on until before the evening was over a total of twenty-three toasts were drunk, if my count is correct. Perhaps the General wondered why his friend, the former Mayor and ~-Governor of the State, Joseph C. Yates, was not present at this affair, or maybe, since he was a shrewd politician himself, he realized that since the Clintonians were in, and since Governor Clinton and Yates had had a real battle about the course the new canal was to take at Schenectady, a battle which Yates lost, he would quite obviously not be invited. After all Yates did not want the Canal to cut the City in half. He wanted it to follow the banks of the River. Clinton’s “amateur” engineers thought differently. The proprietor of the new Hotel, Mr. Resolve Givens, of course, took the Clintonian side. What could be better than to have this waterway to the

West pass so near the doors of the best hotel in the City! He was a very influential citizen and his support of Clinton’s plan must have carried great weight. Joseph C. was undoubtedly still stewing about it. If you have ever attended a banquet like this, it is easy to visualize Lafayette whispering to the Mayor. Some nodding of heads and all is arranged. He and the Mayor would pay a call upon Yates as soon as the festivities were over. So at 10 o’clock a carriage drove up to the Ex-Governor’s home, now the University Club. Can’t you just hear the welcome? “Good evening, Governor.” “Good evening, General. Please come in.” There they sat talking together and having their nightcaps into the wee hours of the morning. It was 3 A.M. when Lafayette arrived at the tavern, near the present Ingersoll Home, for some rest, while en route to Albany for another great reception.

Politics, Palaver and Both the Houses

By the time this hits the press, it will all be over. A President will have been elected as well as Senators, Congressmen, State officials and all the rest. The mud will have been wiped off faces and the paperbacks burned.

Through it all, I could not help but think of the delightful political satire which Gilbert and Sullivan produced in “Iolanthe.” I could not help but think of Private Willis standing at his sentry box in the moonlight, alone on the stage, singing (in part) …

“I am an intellectual chap and think of things that would astonish you.

I often think it’s comical

That Nature always does continue

That every boy and every gal

That’s born into this world alive

Is either a little Liberal

Or else a little Conservative !”

Followed immediately by the wonderful chorus …

“Strephon’s a member of Parliament

Carries every Bill he chooses.

To his measure, all assent—

Showing that fairies have their uses.

Enough of current politics and palaver! Let’s talk about both the houses—the one where Schenectady’s greatest politician was born, the other where he later lived. They both stand on Front Street. One is No. 26; the other No. 17.

I have talked about No. 17 before. You will remember that it was here that Joseph C. Yates, Governor of the State of New York, received General Lafayette when the Erie Canal was opened.

Now I want to tell you about the second house where that great politician, Joseph C., was born.

After the Wars Col. Stoeffel Yates and his wife, Jane Bradt, settled down and lived in the much-altered gambrel roofed house at No. 26. Here they raised a large family, four sons (I don’t know how many daughters). Here, in 1785, Stoeffel died at the age of forty-eight. The executor of his will was his brother, Jillis, who farmed the family plantation out in Glenville. The executrix was his widow Jane. An argument arose, according to Austin A. Yates in his book, “Schenectady County, Its History to the Close of the Nineteenth Century.” Whether he is right or wrong it’s a delightful story and I quote:

“Dey shall work,” said the farmer, “I am the axaceter.”

“Dey shall be eddicated,” gave back the widow, “I am der axetrix.’

The widow won. The boys were “eddicated.’ Joseph C. became our first Mayor and later a Senator, a Judge of the Supreme Court, and finally Governor of New York State. Henry became Senator from Albany County, dying worth $2,000,000, the richest man in the State, according to the New York “Sun.” John B. was a member of Congress from Madison County and one of the builders of the Welland Canal. Andrew became a Doctor of Divinity and one of the first Professors at Union College.

Such was the “eddicated” brood that Jane Bradt Yates raised at No. 26.