09/07/2026
It has been a whirlwind few weeks at The Great New York State Fair. For those who joined us opening Day, you may have seen site manager Wade Wells with the coffin, interpreting funerary practices and mourning in colonial NY. While this might seem like a morbid way to open the fair, the rituals surrounding loss and commemoration were a person’s last public act in a time period in which the performance of social roles was an incredibly important part of life, and an opportunity for those who remained to process their grief in the arms of their community.
Mourning in the colonial era was meant for the mourners more than the deceased; a ritual which allowed the mourners to feel their grief and accept their loss with their community. The period surrounding the Revolution brought reasons aplenty for mourning in colonial New York, and the Johnson family and their circle were no exception. From Sir William’s grand funeral in July of 1774, to his daughter, Polly’s death a year to the day later during her escape to the windswept shores of Oswego, the family observed proper mourning ritual to whatever extent they could under the circumstances. In other cases, such as the death of Lady Johnson’s mother, news would not reach the family until long after the fact, preventing participation in the rituals of grief.
Funerary traditions in the Early Modern Period were robust and increasingly reliant on material expressions of “proper” mourning. Black clothing had long been part of the display of grief, but the booming textile trade meant that even poorer families could hope to es**rt their loved one to the grave in the somberest shade. In the case of the Johnsons, this was a cross-cultural expression. Black mourning gowns and suits of a European style were worn alongside matchcoats of black stroud-cloth for Mohawk mourners. White gloves and black hats wrapped in white scarves completed the ensemble. The use of black textiles throughout the house also increased in this span, with swashes and door frames of black crepe, portrait and mirror covers, and more.
This process was made easier when the deceased had time to observe the religious traditions of their culture, for instance the last sacrament of the Christian faith. Funerals were also expected to be attended even by rivals as a show of respect for the dead, the mourners, and the funerary tradition as a whole. There was also an aspect of remembrance in the mourning process and mourning rings would often be made with the name of the deceased engraved on the band. Many people left detailed instructions for their funeral in their will, but the ex*****on of the formalities fell largely on the primary mourner.
The primary mourner would usually be the next of kin of the deceased; in Sir William Johnson’s case this was his son Sir John. Other close family and friends would es**rt the coffin, in which the body of the deceased had been placed after washing, anointing with flowers and oils, and being dressed in a shroud and/or winding sheet. Even the coffin could be covered in black cloth if means allowed. A cloth pall would be carried over the coffin, with assistant carriers, torch bearers, and additional mourners filling out the display. Eventually, this level of display, once reserved for the wealthiest, most prominent in society, became the expectation; an expectation that conveyed the survivors’ depth of appreciation and respect for the deceased. For those who could not afford to purchase this amount of textile and paraphernalia, renting was a backup that still allowed them to perform the ritual in a socially acceptable manner without adding financial ruin to the stress the death of a loved one already brought.
To modern eyes, the 18th century’s whole-hearted embrace of the rituals surrounding death and mourning seems at times almost macabre, but as with any era, the public acknowledgement of loss was shaped equally by the personal and social beliefs and needs of the time, and there is a bittersweet joy and life in the directness with which our forebearers faced their final social act.
As we look forward to October, Johnson Hall is excitedly preparing for our annual celebration of spooky colonial stories! Memento Mori will return with new thrills, old chills, and our maestro of the macabre, storyteller Campbell Higle! Details and registration coming soon!