Holland Land Office Museum

Joe Head performed at the Holland Land Office Museum on Friday night, playing a selection of traditional and contemporary Christmas songs.

Press release:

Please join the Holland Land Office Museum for a Westside Ghostwalk at 7 p.m. on Friday, Oct. 19th.

Take a walk on the Westside and hear tales of murders, hangings, grave robbing, ghosts and other eerie happenings from Batavia's past. Hear stories of Joseph Ellicott, E. N. Rowell and other famous and infamous Batavians.

The tour begins and ends at the museum and is approximately one-and-a-half to two hours long. Admission is $10 and reservations are required.

For tickets or more information, please call 343-4727.

People like to make discoveries. It makes them feel important, that they've found something unique. Children especially like to have something to show off and I was no different. When I was about 9 or 10 I tried to get something I found put in a museum -- the Holland Land Office Museum.

As it turned out, the thing I found belonged in a dumpster, not a display case.

It all started because of jealousy. A kid I knew had uncovered an arrowhead in his backyard or somewhere. The local museum had it displayed in a case with his name by it and every time I saw it I turned green with envy. Why wasn't it me who unearthed something while digging around as kids do?

I loved that museum. They had antique guns, a drum from the Civil War, an actual hangman's noose from the old jail -- great stuff. But nothing contributed by me, David Reilly. Every time I went there I imagined a card with my name on it next to something that every visitor would remark about.

One day while prowling around the attic of a house where we were renting an apartment, I found an old, dented, beat up bugle. I ran to show it to my mother and asked if it could be a valuable souvenir, possibly from the Civil War. She didn't think so, especially since if it was valuable no one would have left it in the attic. Of course.

Crushed, I trudged back upstairs. But as I went to put the bugle back in the cobwebs, a seed of a scheme entered my mind.

What if my mother was wrong? After all, wasn't our house on Ellicott Avenue? And wasn't Joseph Ellicott the man who was the land agent for the Holland Land Company and the one who made the plans for the city of Batavia, New York? And wasn't my favorite museum down the street named The Holland Land Office where Joseph Ellicott had his office for many years?

That bugle could have been his! Or at least belonged to someone that he knew.

I thought, “Maybe if I take this bugle to the museum they will put it in a case, type up a card with my name on it, and finally I'd be famous, at least in Batavia. Nah, they'd never fall for it. But on the other hand... oh why not give it a try?”

The next day I went to the backyard, rubbed some dirt on the bugle so it looked like it had been dug up, and nervously headed for the museum. I hung around in front playing by the cannons for awhile trying to get up my nerve. Finally, I entered.

“What can I do for you young man?” the elderly woman at the desk asked.

“I found this bugle and it's got dirt on it and it was in my backyard right across the street on Ellicott Avenue and I dug it up and I bet it was lost there by Joseph Ellicott or at least by someone he knew look see how old it is can you put it in the museum?” I spewed out the words like my voice was trying to win the Indianapolis 500.

“Oh,” the woman said thoughtfully. “Ellicott Avenue you say? Well, that's right close by isn't it? What is your name young man?”

“Oh boy!” I rejoiced in my mind. The neatly printed card next to my donated bugle was looking pretty clear to me now.

“David Reilly,” I replied, “and I live at 20 Ellicott Avenue where I dug it up.”

"Well, David,” the woman said, “I'm going to show this to our museum experts and we will check it out very carefully. You come back next week and we'll let you know.”

All week long I couldn't sleep, paced the floor, and thought incessantly about that bugle. Finally, the big day came. I walked to the museum, marched straight to the lady's desk and looked imploringly into her eyes.

“What can I do for you young man?” the woman asked.

My heart dropped to my stomach. She doesn't even remember me? But wait. She's old; at least 90. She's just forgotten.

“I'm David Reilly. I brought in Joseph Ellicott's bugle last week.”

“Bugle? Oh yes, of course. I wouldn't forget a thing like that. We took a very close look at it I can assure you.”

My stomach felt like butterflies were having a gymnastics competition. “Yes! I'm in! I've got it!" I thought. If there was such a thing as a high five back then I was giving myself plenty of them mentally.

“Unfortunately, David, that bugle is no more than 20 years old at most. Are you sure that you dug it up in your yard?”

"Oh boy. What now?" I thought. "I'm done for on the display case. Can I get arrested for lying?"

But I proceeded nonetheless.

“Oh yes ma'am, it was way down there," I told her, then blurted out this realistic tidbit: "I thought it was gold when I first saw it."

My palms were sweating so badly now that they were leaving streaks on the sides of my corduroys.

The lady reached into the drawer of her desk and pulled out the bugle. She handed it to me with some of the dirt still clinging to the sides. She wiped her hand on one of those little old-fashioned hankies.

“Well, young man, I'm sorry that we couldn't use your discovery, but it's always nice to see someone your age so interested in history. If you ever come across anything else be sure to bring it in.”

I took the bugle and managed to utter a quick “Yes, thank you ma'am” before making a hasty exit.

As I slunk back home I could almost hear the guffaws of the museum staff as they mocked my find of the “bugle of Joseph Ellicott.”

Looking back on it, the museum volunteer probably had a little laugh after I gave it to her, then put it in the drawer and never thought about it again until I came back.

As I clumped up the back steps, I chucked the bugle into the garbage can where it clanged forlornly, never to be seen again.

As I went through the kitchen my mom stopped me. “Where've you been Dave?” she asked.

“Oh, just down at the museum,” I replied.

“Again? You must have been there a hundred times. Anything new down there?”

“Nope. Nothin' to toot about anyway,” I told her and headed off to check out that new comic I had stored under my pillow.

PHOTO: Bugle shown is for illustration purposes only; it is not the bugle David found.

Ryan Duffy is 18 months into his job as director of the Holland Land Office Museum and members of the Genesee County Legislature have taken notice of the improvements he's made to the local history destination.

Several members praised him Monday after he give his annual review report to the Human Services Committee.

"Two years ago or three years ago there was significant activity and concern about the museum," said Robert Bausch, chairman of the legislature. "I just want to compliment you. The issues that we raised are being addressed and addressed in a positive way. I just want to congratulate you."

During his presentation, Duffy laid out some of the activities at the museum, which include continuing the just-completed History Heroes summer camp, cataloging more than 8,000 items at the museum, bringing in more groups to use space at the museum for meetings, bringing in more guest speakers, and starting a Java with Joe morning speakers series.

Duffy also brought back the annual antique show at Batavia Downs, which this year had vendors from as far away as Syracuse and Binghampton and brought in 450 visitors.

The museum also continues to grow as a tourist destination. Duffy said in 2017, nearly half of all people who visited the museum were from outside Genesee County.

Duffy also suggested people start thinking about their Wonderland of Trees decorations. This year's theme will be "favorite holiday movies."

"You’ve done fantastic," said Legislator John Deleo. "You’ve energized everybody including the board."

During his presentation Monday, Duffy also mentioned two recent acquisitions by the museum.  

Top photo: Six pictures of Gen. Emory Upton. The larger picture on the left is from the West Point yearbook when Upton was an instructor at the academy. The other five are of Upton during the Civil War, showing Upton as a young lieutenant fresh out of West Point through the end of the war when he was a brevet major general (brevet means a temporary promotion usually awarded for valor or exceptionalism; Upton was a brigadier general prior to the brevet promotion).

The photos were obtained from a private collector.

"The pictures show not only the change in himself over time but also his change in rank," Duffy said. "We didn’t have anything like that before. We had later things of him but not something tracing his career. We had the beginning and the end but not the middle."

Bottom photo: A painting of Henry Glowacki on a piece of ivory. Glowacki was a prominent citizen of Batavia in the second half of the 19th century and he had a pretty fascinating biography. Born in 1816, the son of a Polish general, Glowacki was promoted to major in the Polish Army at age 17. He was probably part of the November Uprising, when a group of young officers rebelled against Russian rule of part of their homeland (source). The officers were banished from Poland. He intended to make exile in Illinois but he came into contact with David Ellicott Evans, then manager of the Holland Land Office. Evans hired Glowacki, though he was still only 19 and didn't speak or read English. Within four years, he mastered the language and studied law under H. J. Redfield and he married Mary Redfield. He passed the New York State Bar in 1840 and became a prominent local attorney. He was chairman of the local Democratic Party, a recruiter during the Civil War, a Village of Batavia trustee, an original trustee of the NYS Blind School, and he donated land for the first hospital in Batavia.

Prior to obtaining the painting -- about the size of an egg -- the only pictures HLOM had of Glowacki were as an old man with mutton chops, Duffy said.

Museum staff located the painting while attending an antique show. It is etched on the back with Glowacki's name and his date of birth and death.

The museum already possessed his Polish army uniform and a paperweight he used while employed at the land office.

The Holland Land Office Museum hosted its annual penny carnival Thursday for children participating in the History Heroes summer program.

Below is a photo submitted by Tiff Plimpton of Carson Colantonio and Ben Landers.