Tag: New Jersey History

Book Review – New Jersey’s Natures Environmental Histories of the Garden State

New Jersey’s Natures Environmental Histories of the Garden State

By Raechel Lutz

Reviewed by Hank Bitten, NJCSS Executive Director

The names of the Copper Tree Mall, Powder Mill Lane, Cannonball Trail, and Campgaw Mountain in Oakland, New Jersey reveal the mysteries of the environmental history of the town where I live. When a new septic was installed on our property, the excavation revealed sand about ten feet under the soil. This discovery explained why half of the houses on our block did not have full basements and why homes with basements often had water seepage from a hidden underground stream.

Environmental history is exciting for students who enjoy the role of historical detective. The names on our street signs, the boardwalk, the Great Swamp, and utility poles, train tracks, and churches are evidence of environmental history. There is likely evidence of trees where you live that are 300 years old and the trees that are less than 100 years old reveal evidence of deforestation or the presence of invasive species. The names of many places in New Jersey reveal an environmental history of past centuries from the Native Americans who walked on the land where we walk or drive today:

Absecon (little stream)

Mahwah (meeting place)

Passaic (valley)

Paramus (wild turkeys)

Pequannock (cleared land)

Piscataway (large deer)

Pompton (place of soft fish)

Wyckoff (high ground)

“In the twenty-first century, the state has it all: protected ecological environments, active agricultural tracts, preserved farmland, contemporary industrial landscapes, postindustrial landscapes, mid-century Levittown-inspired suburbs, elite rolling estates, historic sites, tribal lands, massive interstate highways, and many, many other features of a cultural landscape that has been inexorably changed by humanity.  These factors make New Jersey, as this book argues, a prime site for the study of environmental history.” (page 2)

The articles in New Jersey’s Natures are organized geographically. They reveal a history that has been ignored, unimagined, or recently revealed. The stories of the Meadowlands and Pinelands may be familiar, the articles on the forests of Joseph Bonaparte and the landscape of the diaries of William Livingston may be new, and the research on industrial pollution, agricultural economics, and the migration of populations may prove shocking.

The environmental history of New Jersey (and the world) is dramatically changing as we are already living in a world that is 1.2C degrees warmer than when most of us were born. A warmer climate leads to atmospheric changes affecting crops and trees, rising sea levels, droughts, fires, and the migration of populations. The evidence we currently have in the oral histories of our collective memories, historical sites, landscape paintings, photographs, and newspaper articles are in need of documentation, organization, and publication. Teachers are the catalyst for inspiring and encouraging this in their school and community.

For example, perhaps every person living in New Jersey has looked out of the window in their vehicle when driving on the New Jersey Turnpike between Exit 15 and 16. They see the landscape of Jersey City and New York City and the strange landscape of the rock known as Snake Hill or Laurel Hill. The environmental history of the roads and railroads, the memories of people seeking cleaner air for relief from lung diseases and the importance of this rock as a sacred place for burial, the presence of water snakes, oysters, clams, and fish are part of the story of our history. Raechel Lutz inspires us to think and discover.

Snake Hill Rock

My early years were in Paterson, and I watched the construction of Route 20 and 21 along the banks of the Passaic River. Many American cities constructed highways next to rivers to avoid the demolition of neighborhoods in towns that were established before the automobile. These highways were built at the time Rachel Carson was writing about water runoff and the pollution of rivers. I remember the clean and clear waters of Greenwood Lake before the speedboats came, the fresh waters of the reservoirs that provided potable water to Newark, Hackensack, Jersey City, and Paterson, and the dangers of eating fish or swimming in the Passaic River.  Unfortunately, the pollution of this scenic river uncovers a frightening history.

Passaic River in Newark, circa, 1875

“The river’s pollution problems worsened right around the time the Essex County Park Commission first convened, in 1894, as oil refining and trade activities in the Newark area picked up and a drought lowered water levels in the Passaic.  That summer, acid fumes caused paint to peel from riverside structures, triggering nosebleeds and nausea.  Meanwhile, oil products, sewage, and factory waste continued to cause the river’s quality to plummet, so that by 1897 the local sewerage commission declared its “fisheries…destroyed.” The river’s recreational value also declined: Boating clubs stopped holding regattas along the Lower Passaic in 1900, children swimming in its waters at the turn of the century emerged “covered with oil and tar,” and many residents living along the river abandoned their homes.”  (page 43)

Passaic River in Newark, circa 1940

New Jersey is the most densely populated state in the United States and one of the most densely populated regions in the world. The people of New Jersey depend on reservoirs and ground water for potable drinking water. Our potable water is threatened by droughts, the movement of salt water into ground water, pollution, and depleted oxygen from warmer temperatures. The effects of a changing climate are the biggest threat to New Jersey, which makes the study of our environmental history an urgent priority.

The two chapters on agricultural history include information on Seabrook Farms, the challenges facing small truck farms in New Jersey, and the conditions experienced by migrant workers from the South, Italy, and the Caribbean. For social studies teachers these chapters provide a perspective on loans provided by the Reconstruction Finance Corporation in the Hoover Administration and the effects of the Great Depression, wars, technology, and weather on Seabrook Farms and New Jersey agriculture. The research is commended and the personal stories and images are powerful.

Migrant workers receiving blankets in 1942 (page 123)

The New Jersey Social Studies Standards provide sufficient emphasis on labor history, transportation history, and immigration history. The chapters in New Jersey’s Natures on the agricultural history of New Jersey and the debate over state financial assistance to control the mosquito and drain the stagnant water of our salt marshes provide information leading to the decisions of local, county, and state governments regarding the Jersey shore, agriculture, and fisheries. Social Studies instruction about the significance of the Morrill Act (1862) and the Smith-Lever Act (1914) should include the contributions of Rutgers University to dairy and vegetable farmers today as each year average temperatures are increasing and sea levels rising.  The environmental history of New Jersey in the next decade is likely to see dramatic changes and challenges for our state government.

“In the 20th century, sea level rose by 12 inches at bedrock locations (Bayonne, Trenton, and Camden). Along the Jersey shore from Sandy Hook to Cape May, it rose an additional four inches due to compaction of sediments caused by natural effects and groundwater withdrawal. There is a 95% probability that the 20th century rate of sea-level rise along the New Jersey shore was faster than it was in any century in the last 4,000 years.” Source (Rutgers University)

The teaching of the market revolution in middle and high school focuses on the Erie Canal and manufacturing in New England. An important contribution in this book is the forgotten story of oysters, muskrats, and sturgeons in Delaware Bay.  Bivalve was the center of the oyster market and with the Central Railroad connections to major carriers, annual production exceeded one million oysters annually.  Teachers looking for a local history lesson emphasizing the importance of civic engagement will also find the chapter on the arguments for and against a jetport in the Pine Barrens to have value. The information in “The End of These Woods: The Pinelands Jetport and Grassroots Environmentalism in the New Jersey Pine Barrens” will find the debate over housing, economic growth, and the need for a large airport to serve Atlantic City and Philadelphia to be informative. The Pine Barrens are a protected area that comprises 20% of the land in our state and includes populated towns in seven counties. In New Jersey, then and today, the protection of the environment appears to be a lower priority in the debate for economic growth and personal opportunity. The debate regarding the development of the Pine Barrens did not end with Governor William Cahill in the 1960s and the current threats from recreation, pollution, illegal dumping, lack of leadership, fires, and water use are topics every student needs to be informed about.

Photograph by Harvey W. Porch, (c. 1905-1915(page 178)

The Beach Park Act of 1894 from an environmental perspective provides another opportunity for analysis of the Jersey shore economy over time. The Jersey Shore is the one geographic location in New Jersey that every student from kindergarten through college can identify with. The article “Reclaiming the Boardwalk” includes case studies of Atlantic City and Asbury Park. The development of these resorts’ centers on the issue of private v. public ownership. For teachers who value interdisciplinary instruction during the Industrial Revolution and the Progressive Era, this article prompts a search for literature, Protestant religion (Methodist Church), economics, art, music, and science.

I was impressed with the number of questions that came to my mind as I was reading New Jersey’s Natures. Some of my questions were:

  1. How have people used this brook, stream, or river over time?
  2. Why does the Garden State Parkway divide a cemetery in Newark?
  3. Why do our state roads have many curves?
  4. Why do many towns in New Jersey have names with Biblical references? (Zarephath, Mount Olive, Asbury, Shiloh, Tabernacle, Brainard, Churchtown, Galilee, etc.)
  5. What did people from the past see and think as they travel through New Jersey?
  6. What changes have I seen to the landscape of New Jersey in my lifetime?

Environmental history prompts thinking about the human impact on place, the shaping of policy decisions by government over time, and the importance of nature in shaping the historical record.

New Jersey’s Natures: Environmental Histories of the Garden State is available from Rutgers University press, ISBN: 9781978836433  Published: May 12, 2026, 280 pages.

Museums in New York and New Jersey

Museums in New York and New Jersey

New York and New Jersey are home to many historical landmarks and sites, some better known than others. Below are several such sites which may not be as familiar to teachers and students.

Raynham Hall Museum

30 West Main Street
Oyster Bay, NY 11771

Video tour: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSZVM6-qEbw

In 1740, 23-year-old Samuel Townsend purchased the property now known as Raynham Hall, moving from his father’s place in nearby Jericho. His move to Oyster Bay allowed him easier access to the waterfront and benefited his growing shipping business, co-owned with his brother, Jacob, who moved in next door on Main Street. Samuel’s property consisted originally of a four-room frame house on a sizable plot of land, with an apple orchard across the street, hundreds of acres of nearby pasture and woodlands for his livestock, and a meadow leading down to the harbor, where he and Jacob kept their ships.

In short order, Samuel had enlarged the house to eight rooms by building a lean-to addition on the north side, creating a saltbox-style house. This property, then known simply as “The Homestead,” would have been a hub of activity during the years leading up to the Revolutionary War, and was home to Samuel, his wife Sarah Stoddard Townsend, their eight children, and 20 enslaved people.

By 1769, Samuel and his brother Jacob owned five ships, which sailed to Europe, Central America, and the West Indies. They traded in an impressive range of goods, including most importantly logwood (which was and continues today to be a crucial ingredient in the dyeing of textiles), tea, lumber, molasses, sugar, china, wine, textiles, dye and rum. In addition to the shipping business, Samuel operated a general store, providing local access to a wide variety of imported wares. He was an active member of local and state government, as Oyster Bay’s Justice of the Peace and Town Clerk, a member of the New York Provincial Congress from 1774 to 1777, and, after the Revolution, a New York State Senator from 1786 to 1790.

Although most of Oyster Bay sided with the British during the American Revolution, Samuel’s sympathies were with the Patriots, despite the far greater risks those sympathies posed to his position, family and fortune. Following the Patriots’ decisive defeat in 1776 at the Battle of Long Island, British forces occupied all of New York City and Long Island, often brutally. Many people in the area who ran afoul of British authorities were confined to prison ships on which more than 12,000 people would die of illness or starvation by the end of the war in 1783, at a time when Manhattan’s entire population was around 20,000. The Townsend family, unlike many Patriots who fled, decided to stay in their home throughout the occupation.

Typical of wealthy New York families, the Townsends of Raynham Hall held many enslaved people who labored to maintain the house and grounds, the livestock and the fields, as well as possibly working on the Townsends’ ships. Samuel Townsend’s business interests also were intertwined with the economics of slavery, including, as they did, trade in such products as logwood, sugar, rum and tobacco.

The earliest slave record concerning the Townsends is a receipt of the purchase of a man bought by Samuel in 1749 for 37 pounds. No name is listed on the receipt. A Bible in Raynham Hall Museum’s collection contains entries from 1769 to 1795 recording the names, births and deaths of seventeen people held enslaved by the Townsends, as well as a partial genealogy. The record lists first names only, including Hannah, Violet, Susannah, Jeffrey, Susan, Catherine, Lilly, Harry, Gabriel and Jane. When the oldest Townsend son, Solomon, married his cousin Anne in 1782, they were given two people, Gabriel and Jane, as wedding presents. Gabriel and Jane’s children, Nancy, Kate, Jim and Josh, also became enslaved to Solomon, as did several others not listed in the Bible, named Charles, Shadwick, Pricilla, and her unnamed son. Additionally, letters show Samuel also owned a young woman named Elizabeth, who escaped Oyster Bay with the British Queen’s Rangers when they decamped in 1779. Samuel’s daughter Audrey and her husband Capt. James Farley owned a woman named Rachel Parker, and Audrey’s sister Phebe’s husband Ebenezer Seeley held a man named Amos Burling as his property. Interestingly, Robert Townsend was a member of the New York Manumission Society, founded in 1785, which worked towards the abolition of slavery.

Other enslaved people from the Oyster Bay area are recorded as having come to the Townsends’ store to purchase goods for their masters or for themselves, and a ledger now in the collection of the New-York Historical Society, but kept back in the day by sons William and David, records many purchases made during the 1760s and 1770s. In 2015, Raynham Hall Museum’s historian Claire Bellerjeau discovered a document at the New-York Historical Society that was revealed to be the sixth known poem by Jupiter Hammon, the first published African-American author in America, also an enslaved person owned by the Lloyds of Lloyd Harbor.

In September of 1776, British soldiers came to Samuel Townsend’s home in Oyster Bay to arrest him for his outspoken Patriotic beliefs, and to imprison him on one of the notorious prison ships in New York Harbor, where horrendous conditions would result in the deaths of over 12,000 captives by the end of the war. According to the recollection of family members, a British officer in the home smashed a hunting rifle that was mounted above the mantle, declaring that a rebel had no right to possess such a weapon, and then motioned to a portrait of the Townsends’ oldest son, Solomon, demanding to see him as well. When told that Solomon was at sea, he expressed regret that they could not arrest him as well. Outside the house, wife Sarah and daughters Sally and Phebe were frantic, afraid they might never see Samuel again.

Samuel was led away through the village and towards Jericho, traveling up the long hill in Pine Hollow. Coming down the hill in the opposite direction were Thomas Buchanan and his wife Almy, Samuel’s brother Jacob’s daughter, riding in a Phaeton carriage, with Samuel’s daughter Audrey alongside on horseback. Though he was considered a Tory, Buchanan was very close to the Townsends. He was also in the shipping business with the Townsends and had hired Samuel’s oldest son Solomon to captain his merchant ship, the Glasgow.

According to family history, when Buchanan saw Samuel being led away, he took Audrey’s horse and followed the soldiers to Jericho, where he paid a huge sum of money — several thousand pounds — to secure Samuel’s freedom. To the great relief of family and friends in Oyster Bay, Samuel returned home, unharmed, though he was then compelled to sign an oath of allegiance to the king, foreclosing any overt action against the crown. Following the end of the war in 1783, when all British were required to evacuate, Thomas Buchanan’s great loyalty and friendship were remembered, and he was allowed to stay and continue his successful merchant business in New York, unlike many Loyalists who were forced to emigrate, forfeiting their property.

For a six-month period from 1778 to 1779, the Townsend home served as headquarters for a regiment of over 300 British troops called the Queen’s Rangers, and their commander, Lt. Col. John Graves Simcoe, who quartered himself in the house, alongside the family. Daily officers’ meetings were held in the front parlor, and the presence of British officers in the house became an everyday fact of life. In March of 1779, Simcoe was visited for several weeks by a close friend, British officer and intelligence chief Maj. John André, who would later be hanged as a spy for his role in helping Benedict Arnold turn traitor in 1780. André, by all accounts a remarkable charismatic person, and an accomplished amateur artist, was 29 years old at the time of his death. After the war, Lt. Col. Simcoe founded the city of Toronto, where he served as Governor of Upper Canada.

At the time he accepted to join George Washington’s intelligence network in 1779, Robert Townsend operated a Manhattan-based merchant shipping firm with his brother William and cousin John. Using his work as a merchant as a cover, Robert could move about the coffee houses, social events, shops and docks of Manhattan, eavesdropping and observing British troop movements, without arousing suspicion.

Under the code name “Culper Junior,” Robert formed the first link in a chain of agents who came to be known as the Culper Spy Ring. Using a special invisible ink formula, invented by John Jay’s brother Sir James Jay, as well as an elaborate numeric code, the spies supplied Washington with critical information about New York City and Long Island.

Robert Townsend served his country well, and at great risk to himself and his family. Though he moved back to Raynham Hall following his father’s death in 1790 and lived for years with his sisters Sarah and Phebe, he kept his involvement in the Culper Spy Ring a total secret from his family and friends for the remainder of his life. Indeed, Robert’s involvement in the Culper Spy Ring was not uncovered until the 1930s, when historian Morton Pennypacker hired a well-known handwriting analyst to prove the true identity of Culper Junior.

Liberty Hall at Kean College

1003 Morris Avenue
Union, NJ 07083

In 1760, when lawyer William Livingston, a member of the prominent Livingston family, was planning to build a country home, he bought 120 acres in what was then sleepy bucolic Elizabethtown, New Jersey, just across the river from his New York home. For the next twelve years, Livingston developed the extensive grounds, gardens and orchards. and oversaw the building of a beautiful fourteen-room Georgian-style home. In 1774, Livingston and his wife, the former Susannah French of New Brunswick, moved to Liberty Hall on a full-time basis with their children and the several people he and his family enslaved. The peace and quiet Livingston sought was short-lived. From 1774 to 1776, Livingston put his retirement on hold and served as a member of the First and Second Continental Congress and as Brigadier General of the New Jersey militia. On August 31, 1776, Livingston became New Jersey’s first elected governor. The ensuing war years were difficult ones for the governor, who spent them on the run from British troops. Finally, after the war in 1783, he was able to return to his home, which was heavily damaged by both British and American troops. Livingston also signed the United States Constitution, in addition to chairing two major committees at the Constitutional Convention. While juggling the demands of governing, Livingston also managed to pursue his great love of gardening and agriculture, utilizing the labor of free and enslaved individuals. Governor Livingston served as governor for fourteen years until his death on July 25, 1790. He is credited with making the New Jersey governorship one of the strongest.

At Liberty Hall, our goal is to deepen our visitors’ understanding of history and nature through the lens of the people who lived and worked in our over 250-year history. We strive to engage with our broader community by providing entertaining and educational programming that will inspire curiosity about the world around them and how that world has changed over time.

Liberty Hall stands at the center of the American Revolution and academic excellence. Home to trailblazing governors, congressmen, senators, assembly persons, philanthropists, and entrepreneurs, its plush gardens have spurred civic change and social innovation for centuries. Inhabited by William Livingston, New Jersey’s first elected governor and a signer of the United States Constitution, the 14-room Georgian-style home evolved over time into a 50-room Victorian mansion.

Liberty Hall began welcoming the public to experience its history and participate in its future in the year 2000. The museum has hosted educational programs, community events, civic ceremonies, and holiday celebrations.

The site is not just home to the stories of public servants and bold industrialists, its magnificent grounds also include an elegant English parterre garden and maze. Visit to view the scenery or explore the collections of antique furniture and decorative artifacts collected by the seven generations, including both the Livingston and Kean families, who called Liberty Hall home.

Macculloch Hall Historical Museum

Welcome to Macculloch Hall

45 Macculloch Ave. Morristown, NJ 07960

Newly arrived British immigrants George and Louisa Macculloch built Macculloch Hall in 1810. They expanded their Federal-style mansion in 1812 and 1819, tripling its size, as their family’s prominence in local, state, and national affairs grew. Come explore the largest collection of original work of political cartoonist Thomas Nast (1840-1902), art, and American history where it happened.

In 1810 George and Louisa Macculloch purchased a 26-acre parcel of land on which they built Macculloch Hall. The Maccullochs cultivated the land primarily to feed their family, planting a traditional kitchen garden as well as apple and pear orchards. George Macculloch (1775-1858) loved the gardens and kept meticulous journals. From them we know what was planted when and where, how crops did and what the family ate. Some of Louisa Macculloch’s (1785-1863) recipes are among the family’s papers in the Museum’s Archives. Modern adaptations of many of them are under “Interactive Activities.”

In the span of five generations, the Macculloch/Miller/Post family members went from owning enslaved men, women, and children to donating land for one of Morristown’s first Black churches, to speaking out on the national stage against the expansion of slavery, to commanding Civil War African American soldiers, and to raising money to support an African American industrial school in Georgia—all while the family lived at Macculloch Hall. George and Louisa Macculloch arrived in Morristown in 1810 with their daughter Mary Louisa and son Francis. They also brought with them three enslaved adults: Cato, Susan, and Betty, as well as a toddler, Emma. Since no legal requirements existed to record slave sales, it is not known when or where George purchased them. The Morris County manumission records have not survived, so there is no record of their being freed.

We know from the family Bible the names of the children born into slavery at Macculloch Hall: William (1811), Henry (1814), and Helen (1817). Their Bible does not name the parents. However, there is some additional information in birth certificates filed with the county clerk. This registration was required by the 1804 Gradual Emancipation Act. On January 8, 1812, George Macculloch registered the births of Emma “on or about September 1809, mother Susan”, and William “April 18, 1811, mother Susan”. No record is noted about the father. It also seems that Henry and Helen’s birth were not registered.

Very little is known about the enslaved men, women, and children at Macculloch Hall. With one exception, they are not mentioned in the surviving archive of family letters and documents. Although not mentioned, we know that their forced servitude, together with the paid labor of men and women in the area, enabled the Maccullochs to run their house and farm. Mary Louisa Macculloch Miller (1804-1888), George and Louisa’s daughter, spent her entire life at Macculloch Hall. She and her husband Senator Jacob Miller raised their nine children there. The fact that her family had owned enslaved men, women, and children and that Mary Louisa grew up in a house with enslaved servants, did not preclude her from supporting the African Methodist Episcopal Church, one of the first independent Black churches in Morristown.

Jacob W. Miller (1800-1862), a lawyer from Long Valley, N.J., married Mary Louisa Macculloch in 1825. In 1838 he was sent to the New Jersey Legislature and was elected to the U.S Senate in 1840 where he served two terms as a member of the Whig party. After his defeat in 1852, he joined the newly formed Republican party. Although never a full-fledged abolitionist, he remained a staunch supporter of the Union and was opposed to the extension of slavery into the territories. Views he shared in common with Abraham Lincoln in the 1850s. His feelings on the burning issues of the day were expressed in speeches he delivered on the annexation of Texas, the Mexican War, the Wilmot Proviso, and the Compromise of 1850.

On May 23, 1844, Miller delivered a speech in the Senate opposing the annexation of Texas because it would give an advantage to the slave states. He also saw a danger in the Mexican War arguing that President Polk’s…” conquered peace in Mexico will become the fierce spirit of discord at home.” Following the end of the war in 1846, he supported the Wilmont Proviso that would have prohibited slavery in the territory acquired from Mexico. This proposal never passed into law.

In 1850, Henry Clay attempted to seek a compromise and avert a crisis between North and South on the issue of slavery. Senator Miller opposed the combination of Clay’s recommendations into a single Omnibus bill, but he did support several of these measures when split into separate bills. His speeches on these matters reveals the complex nature of his views on slavery and emancipation reflecting the fact that many anti-slavery advocates opposed the western expansion of slavery, but had little interest in the fate of enslaved people in the South. Miller voted to admit California as a free state, abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, and prohibit slavery in Utah and New Mexico. The results were mixed. California was admitted, Utah and New Mexico could be organized with no restrictions on slavery, and in the District of Columbia slavery was permitted, but the slave trade was outlawed.

In the vote on the Fugitive Slave Act, Miller abstained. However, in the debates he revealed what many of his fellow New Jerseyans thought about the plight of the runaways by stating:

Macculloch Hall Historical Museum’s Historic Archives contain materials from five generations of the descendants of George (1775-1858) and Louisa (1785-1863) Macculloch, United States Senator Jacob Welch Miller (1800-1862), political cartoonist and illustrator Thomas Nast (1840-1902), and museum founder W. Parsons Todd (1877-1976). Garden highlights include the wisteria trellised along the rear porch, given to the Maccullochs by Commodore Matthew Perry in 1857; the sundial on the upper lawn installed in 1876; the sassafras tree at the far end of the lawn, believed to be the second oldest and largest sassafras tree in New Jersey; and many varieties of heirloom roses, meaning their cultivars date to before 1920. Mrs. Macculloch paid Francis Cook $1.00 to plant the first roses in 1810.