Pension Petitioners: Eliza and Caty’s Final Fights

 By Jessie Serfilippi and Sarah Lindecke 

Following the American Revolutionary War, veterans and their spouses faced an uphill battle to fight for their pensions. It took several decades for the federal government to create the funds and a process to consider pension applications. It wasn’t until 1818 that the first of four acts related to pension petitions was passed. And, while it was limited to soldiers and officers who had fought directly under George Washington and not those who fought in militias, it was a start. The acts became more inclusive as time went on, with three more passed in 1820, 1832, and 1836. It wasn’t until the final act was passed that widows could fight for the pensions their husbands had rightfully earned.

Many women tried to get pensions, but the two stories highlighted here are unique. Two Schuyler daughters—Elizabeth “Eliza” Schuyler Hamilton and Catharine “Caty” Schuyler Malcolm Cochran—petitioned the federal government for pensions, but they didn’t use laws to do so. Their arguments were based off claims that Eliza’s husband, Alexander Hamilton, and Caty’s father, Major General Philip Schuyler, had not been awarded their rightful pensions within their lifetimes. Now, the sisters argued, they should be granted to their survivors. Eliza sought the pension that her husband had once turned down.  Caty sought reparations for what she perceived had been denied to her father. Both hoped to improve their situations and provide for their children upon their deaths.

Would they be successful?

Elizabeth “Eliza” Schuyler Hamilton: The Fight to Support Her Children

Henry Inman's 1825 portrait of
Eliza Schuyler Hamilton.

When Alexander Hamilton ended his service in the Continental Army in 1781, he refused to take any form of payment. Hamilton was not a wealthy man, and, while he was excellent at managing the United States’ treasury, his personal finances suffered. When he was unexpectedly killed in a duel in 1804, he left behind a shocked widow and seven children—one of whom was only two when his father died.

Eliza Schuyler Hamilton had no choice but to forge ahead with the crippling debt her husband left behind. She achieved many things with the fifty years by which she outlived Hamilton, including co-founding the first private orphanage in New York City, preserving Hamilton’s edited papers through the Library of Congress, and securing an author—one of her sons—to pen the first Hamilton biography.

Eliza, who had grown up with incredible wealth as a child, did not spend the last fifty years of her life in money or luxury. She did, however, retain a major privilege her father had enshrined in his will: she owned land throughout New York, which she leased to farmers. The money the farmers paid in rent helped sustain her and her family. But, as she grew older, it became evident she needed more money than their rents or even selling off the land could provide.

Eliza had been left with seven children to raise and educate, which proved to be a big struggle. Her decision to obtain Alexander Hamilton’s pension was fueled by the need to provide for her family. It’s important to note that Eliza’s fight for Hamilton’s pension was different from that of the average widow. She was not looking for a traditional pension, but for backpay on the money he had turned down in the 1780s, due to what he had perceived as a conflict of interest. Unfortunately, it took almost thirty years for Congress to allow widows to petition for traditional pensions.

Why had Hamilton refused a military pension? In 1782, near the close of the American Revolutionary War, Hamilton penned a letter to George Washington denouncing his right to claim money for his service:

As I have many reasons to consider my being employed hereafter in a precarious light, the bare possibility of rendering an equivalent will not justify to my scruples the receiving any future emoluments from my commission. I therefore renounce from this time all claim to the compensations attached to my military station during the war or after it.

Hamilton refused his payment so he would not be accused of acting in his own best interest while serving in any governmental position. Some of his major achievements included helping soldiers obtain timely pay during the war, and securing a retirement pension, also known as half pay, for former officers. If he’d kept his right to his pension, he would have directly benefited from these achievements, as well.   

In his 1804 “Explanation of His Financial Situation” he wrote:

Being a member of Congress, while the question of the commutation of the half pay of the army in a sum in gross was in debate, delicacy and a desire to be useful to the army, by removing the idea of my having an interest in the question, induced me to write to the Secretary of War and relinquish my claim to half pay; which, or the equivalent, I have accordingly never received.

With the knowledge that her husband hadn’t received a penny of his payment while alive, Eliza took action. She began by writing to James Madison in 1809, when he was the newly elected president. She told him Hamilton had turned down his half-pay while alive, and that, had he lived and continued working, they would be in no need of it. She described the circumstances under which she was forced to seek his pension. She wrote:

the Situation in which this irreparable Loss has placed me, and the young and numerous Family he has left, oblige me to apply for that Compensation for his Services; which my limited Income Renders necessary for the Support and Education of my dear Children.

This letter may have yielded some response, for that same year her plea was placed before Congress and was decided upon in 1810. While the committee agreed with the essence of Eliza’s claim, they wrote it was “barred by the statute of limitation,” and was therefore denied.

Eliza persisted. She went before Congress again in 1816 with the same request. While reviewing her request, Congress referenced a supposed document signed by Hamilton and addressed to the Secretary of War, in which he relinquished his rights to pay. But as the document wasn’t in their possession, they seemingly ignored it and stated:

The committee would further remark, that should a probability exist that Colonel Hamilton may have relinquished his said claim, and notwithstanding it is barred by the statute of limitations, nevertheless, as the services have been rendered to the country, by which its happiness and prosperity have been promoted, they are of opinion, that to reject the claim under the peculiar circumstances by which it is characterized, would not comport with that honorable sense of justice and magnanimous policy, which ought ever to distinguish the legislative proceedings of a virtuous  and enlightened nation.

They have therefore prepared a bill, granting the relief solicited in the premise.

With that, Eliza received the money Hamilton himself had given up three decades earlier—a lumpsum of five years’ worth of half-pay. Eliza continued her battle in the coming years, fighting both for Hamilton’s land grant, which would have been part of his payment, and for Congress to purchase his edited papers from her.

Eliza’s perseverance ensured that all but one of her children grew up, married and, in the case of her sons, entered profitable professions. At the same time, Eliza worriedly gathered funds to care for her eldest daughter, Angelica, who was ill and, based on later letters, was unable to support herself or marry.

John Church Hamilton by 
Alfred Thomas Agate; 1840.

Eliza took multiple avenues to earn enough money to leave behind for her daughter, as a letter from her son, John, reveals. Aside from aggressively seeking her husband’s pension, she used the biggest asset Hamilton left her: their house in Harlem, The Grange. In 1828, Eliza considered selling The Grange. The house was in danger of foreclosure—making evident just how dangerous Eliza’s financial situation had become. Rather than lose everything, Eliza was ready to sell her home. Her son, John, wrote that if she sold The Grange, she would live on a fixed income. This would ensure financial stability during her lifetime, and a stable future for Angelica. In 1828, John wrote Eliza would be able to “make a provision for Angelica afterwards [Eliza’s death] which must be the subject of first importance in your thoughts.” In the same letter, he told Eliza that she and Angelica could live with him in Rhinebeck, making it clear Angelica was living with and dependent on her mother. Eliza did eventually sell the Grange, but not until 1833.

While there are multiple versions of Eliza’s will, the version she wrote during the early 1840s seems to imply that she had gathered enough money to leave some behind for Angelica. Her will read:

I do hereby give and bequeath to my said daughter Elizabeth the free and sole use for her own benefit of all the interest money which she may not find necessary or proper for the maintenance and support of my daughter Angelica, arising out of the fund here in after specified as set apart for the maintenance and support of said daughter Angelica

She went on to add:

My said daughter Elizabeth having expressed to me her desire after my decease she might have the care and control of my dear but unfortunate daughter, Angelica, which is most agreeable to my own feelings and best judgement […] and I do hereby direct the interest of the principal sum of Eight thousand dollars which I have deposited with my son James and set apart for the support and maintenance of my said daughter Angelica

It was Eliza’s combined efforts in securing Hamilton’s pension, selling his papers to Congress, and selling the home he built for them that earned her the money to care for their daughter following her death.

Over the course of about four decades, Eliza fought and won multiple battles. She won Hamilton’s pension in 1816, securing five years’ worth of his half pay. In the 1830s, she sold The Grange, moving into a smaller home with her two daughters and her son-in-law. In 1840, she sold Hamilton’s papers, which were added to the Library of Congress in 1904. While the selling of The Grange and Hamilton’s papers brought Eliza more money than obtaining the pension, the latter allowed her to immediately support her family and continue her fight. Hamilton’s pension was a gift he unknowingly left Eliza, and the fruits of her efforts to win it back were one of the final gifts she could give their children upon her own death, at the age of 97, in 1854.

Catharine Schuyler Malcom Cochran: The Fight for Her Father’s Pension

On December 11^th, 1855, Catharine “Caty” van Rensselaer Schuyler Malcolm Cochran (1781-1857) had a petition presented to the Senate by committee, seeking compensation for her father’s, Major General Philip Schuyler, service during the Revolutionary War. This petition, made more than 70 years after the war had ended, was one of Caty’s final actions. She died less than 2 years later, on August 26^th, 1857.

Catharine "Caty" Schuyler Malcom Cochran
with her daughter, Catharine, by 
Gilbert Stuart circa 1810.

Caty was Philip and Catharine Schuylers’ youngest child, born on February 20^th, 1781, during the last years of the Revolutionary War. Through colonial stories she was told as a child, Caty grew up very aware of the great changes brought by the Revolutionary War, but she lacked firsthand knowledge of the actual war. By 1855, Caty was the last living Schuyler child, having lost her last two siblings, Rensselaer Schuyler (1773-1848) and Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton (1757-1854). Many of her nieces and nephews were still alive, but Caty was the last direct link to her father’s legacy. Thus, she was the only person entitled to obtain a payment from the United States for losses sustained and wages forfeited by her father, Philip Schuyler.

Much of Caty’s petition detailed her father’s story. The text describes at length the Battles of Saratoga in 1777, and the personal losses Philip Schuyler sustained when his Saratoga estate was burned by the British forces led by General Burgoyne following the battles. She asserted it was unlikely the losses at the Saratoga estate were compensated because “the books of the department make no mention of such payment or allowance.”

Later in the text, Caty placed pressure on Congress to comply with “the Committee” she’d employed for a payment by stating that “But for the embarrassment of his private affairs, […] the committee have no doubt that General Schuyler would have remained in the service till the close of the war. In that event he would, of course, have been entitled to five years’ full pay, or to his commutation.” The Committee representing Caty’s wishes perceived that her father, if not for the personal and professional embarrassments—his removal from military command in 1777 and subsequent court martial—would have remained in service during the following years of the Revolutionary War. 

To protect her access to the money, should it be rewarded, the petition carefully states that “as the petitioner is the only surviving child—as she is aged and poor, the committee are of opinion that the payment should be made to her alone, instead of being divided among the heirs generally of General Schuyler.” Caty knew that, should this repayment be optioned to all Schuyler descendants and heirs, she would have had to fight off her large extended family. Her position as the last living child of Philip Schuyler gave her implied precedence to any repayments.

Caty’s attempts to receive repayment for her father’s losses during the Revolutionary War were successful, as her petition was resolved January 16^th, 1857. She was to receive $9,960 “in full payment and discharge of all claims on account of services rendered or losses sustained by General Philip Schuyler in the war of the Revolution.” Shortly after receiving this money, Caty added a codicil to her will to account for the money acquired from Congress. She split the money between her two sons, William Schuyler Malcolm and Alexander Hamilton Malcolm. Similar to his cousin, Angelica Hamilton, Alexander Hamilton Malcom had his inheritance placed in trust because of his fragile health. Caty likely felt compelled to pursue her father’s pension due to her own poor financial position, as well as to support a son unable to independently care for himself.

Ultimately, Caty was successful in petitioning and obtaining payments regarding her father’s efforts as Major General of the Army’s Northern Department during the American Revolution but, upon closer inspection, this appears not to be the first time the youngest Schuyler child sought money form her father’s service. In the New York Public Library’s Schuyler-Malcom Family Papers, there are various letters Caty wrote to family members on seeking advice or assistance to obtain funds. In a letter written to Caty in 1851 by her nephew, Robert Schuyler, son of Philip Jeremiah Schuyler, he said:

I have your letter of the 7^th inst and regret to learn that your hope of pecuniary relief have been disappointed. _ If you will make a mortgage as you preface to R & G. S. Schuylerm on such of your property as you decern judicious, they will accept and pay your draft for Three hundred dollar at Ten days sight-   

This letter reveals Caty’s financial woes and her attempts to mortgage her property to protect her future. The result of this business with Robert Schuyler is unknown, likely because after he committed large-scale stock fraud in 1854, he fled legal consequences and died in France in 1855.

It might appear deliberate that Caty waited until December of 1855 to push her petition before Congress, as her sister Eliza had died November 9^th, 1854. If Caty expressed her interest in receiving repayment to her siblings, they may have petitioned for their own cut.

The final of the four pension acts, passed in 1836, allowed for petitions to Congress by survivors and widows of the Revolutionary War. It is interesting to note that none of her siblings, even those living after 1836, made any known efforts to petition for their father’s owed pension. Eliza had focused solely on her husband’s pension, and Rensselaer Schuyler, the only other living sibling after the act’s passage, hadn’t submitted any petitions himself. Thus Caty, more than 70 years after the American Revolution and over 50 years after her fathers’ death, was able to receive the money she believed he was owed in life.

Caty’s case was rather unique, because unlike most women, she as petitioning for survivor’s benefits as a daughter rather than a wife. In Caty’s privileged position, however, she had more resources available to her to successfully petition Congress, unlike many other survivors. Also, despite her father’s early departure from the war, the name Schuyler had a lasting positive legacy. Undoubtedly, the Schuyler name held weight with Congress for her petition. She was able to benefit from that legacy to gain her father’s pension and reparations to his property to  provide for her children.

“The Liberty to Request:” Angelica Schuyler Church and Slavery

 by Jessie Serfilippi

Letter from Angelica Schuyler Church to John Tayler,
 requesting to purchased an enslaved girl from Mrs. Van Dyck.
Schuyler Mansion State Historic Site Collections. 

Angelica Schuyler Church (1756-1814), the Schuylers’ eldest daughter, traveled a lot throughout the 1780s and 1790s. A few years after her marriage to Englishman John Barker Church (1748-1818) in 1777, she and her husband moved abroad to Paris and London with brief visits home throughout the nearly fifteen years they were away. She traveled between Newport, Boston, Albany, and New York, as well as Paris and London. Before, during, and after her visits home, she consistently looked for and attempted to purchase enslaved people. Recently, Schuyler Mansion acquired a new letter that adds to our knowledge of Angelica as an enslaver, as well as slavery within the wider Schuyler family. 

In 1780, Angelica was living away from Albany with her husband, John Barker Church, who was then using the alias John Carter as he was evading debt in his native England. Under the alias of Angelica Carter, the eldest Schuyler child penned a letter to John Tayler requesting his help in purchasing an enslaved child. Tayler, a man of many hats, often served as a middleman for the Schuylers in various transactions. In this case, Angelica, still living in Boston, asked for his help in purchasing Mrs. Van Dyck’s enslaved child. Referring to herself in the third person, Angelica wrote “Mrs. Carter takes the Liberty to request of Mr. Taylor to purchase for her, the little negro Girl that commonly attends Mrs. Vandyck.” The reason she requested this child in particular was because she heard “Mrs. Vandyck has gone to New York and if that is true tis probable her servants will be sold.”

This letter provides a valuable insight into how the Schuylers, and people of the time period in general, referred to the enslaved. Angelica referred to the people enslaved by Mrs. Van Dyck as “servants,” but they were clearly enslaved because she asked to purchase them. Historians of the 18^th century often see similar references, but in this one, it is made clear that the “servants” have a monetary value prescribed to them and can be purchased. This shows that “servant” was interchangeable with “slave” to families like the Schuylers. These were the common semantics of the 18^th century, even if these words do not hold the same meaning today.

Just two years later, Angelica made a similar request of her parents. In 1782, Philip Schuyler wrote to Angelica that “Your mama will strive all in her power to procure you a good wench they are rare to be met with.”[1] Any follow-up to the letter is unknown, but this assurance from Philip Schuyler that Angelica’s mother was searching for an enslaved girl or woman for Angelica shows that the Churches regularly enslaved people when in the United States. It also shows that Angelica was active in choosing who she wanted to enslave. In the first letter, she sought a young girl enslaved by Mrs. Van Dyck, and, in this letter, she requested her parents find her an enslaved woman. The Schuylers seemingly thought it was natural for them to enslave people, which meant it was likely Angelica did, too.

In 1784, Margaret “Peggy” Schuyler van Rensselaer, Angelica’s younger sister, asked their brother-in-law, Alexander Hamilton, to do a favor for Angelica, who was abroad at the time. Peggy requested that Hamilton contact the man Angelica had sold one of her enslaved people to and ask if she could re-enslave him during her upcoming visit to the United States. Hamilton wrote to John Chaloner, a man with whom the Churches often conducted business, on Angelica’s behalf. This letter to Chaloner shows again how enslaving people was engrained in and natural to the entire Schuyler family. Hamilton wrote:

Mrs. Renselaaer [Peggy Schuyler] has requested me to write to you concerning a negro, Ben, formerly belonging to Mrs. Carter [Angelica] who was sold for a term of years to Major Jackson. Mrs. Church has written to her sister that she is very desirous of having him back again; and you are requested if Major Jackson will part with him to purchase his remaining time for Mrs. Church and to send him on to me.[2]

Angelica had sold Ben for a “term of years” to Major Jackson and was now requesting him back for her brief visit home. In a follow-up letter, Major Jackson wrote he “declines parting with Ben, but says when Mrs Church returns he will let her have him should she request it but will not part with him to any body else.”[3] It’s unclear if this actually happened when Angelica returned, but the request on Angelica’s behalf shows her desire to re-enslave Ben.

In 1797, Angelica and her family returned to New York City from England, where they lived until Angelica’s death in 1814. Shortly before their return, Hamilton once again was engaged as their middleman. His cashbook shows he purchased three people for the Churches: two women and a child.[4] One of the women may have been Sarah, who appeared before the New York Manumission Society in 1799, stating she had been illegally brought to New York from Maryland in 1793, and was sold to the Churches since then.[5] Based on Hamilton’s recorded transactions and when the Churches returned to New York, it’s possible she was one of the women purchased for the Churches before their 1797 return to New York City. She was freed by the New York Manumission Society in 1799.

These letters and sources not only tell us the story of enslavement within the Church household, but more specifically show Angelica’s involvement in the institution of slavery. Far too often, only men are mentioned in sources surrounding enslavement because it is typically their records and their letters that have survived to the present day. While both the letter penned by Philip Schuyler and the one written by Alexander Hamilton show Angelica’s involvement in slavery, the one written in her own hand is an even more direct link. It’s a somewhat rare opportunity to show women were just as directly and fully involved in slavery as men. They not only directed enslaved people on tasks, but actively sought out who they wanted to enslave and engaged in the financial transactions of purchasing people. Angelica Schuyler Church was no exception.

---

[1] “Philip Schuyler to Angelica Schuyler Church, 20 September 1782,” Church Papers, Yale Library.

[2] “From Alexander Hamilton to John Chaloner, [11 November 1784],” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Hamilton/01-03-02-0390. [Original source: The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 3, 1782–1786, ed. Harold C. Syrett. New York: Columbia University Press, 1962, pp. 584–585.]

[3] “To Alexander Hamilton from John Chaloner, 25 November 1784,” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Hamilton/01-03-02-0392. [Original source: The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 3, 1782–1786, ed. Harold C. Syrett. New York: Columbia University Press, 1962, pp. 587–588.]

[4] “Account with John Barker Church, [15 June 1797],” Founders Online, National Archives, version of January 18,

2019, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Hamilton/01-21-02-0067. [Original source: The Papers of Alexander

Hamilton, vol. 21, April 1797 – July 1798, ed. Harold C. Syrett. New York: Columbia University Press, 1974, pp.

109–112.]

[5] Minutes, May 18, 1791-February 19, 1807, New York Manumission Society Records 1785-1849, Manuscript Collections Relating to Slavery, New York Historical Society, Manhattan, 113.

The Story of Adelaide and Alice

A letter from Adelaide to her nephew, Schuyler Hamilton Jr.

by Jessie Serfilippi

This research was made possible by a new collection of Hamilton papers Schuyler Mansion acquired from the Norwalk Historical Society.

In January of 1899, Adelaide and Alice Hamilton’s names were all over the news. On January 17^th, 1899, the New York Times published an article titled “Miss Hamilton is Insane: Wealthy Granddaughter of Alexander Hamilton Pronounced So by Jury.” The article followed a court case brought against Alice by her older sister, Adelaide, in which she sought to have her younger sister institutionalized. From these facts alone, it’s easy to assume there was no love between them and that Adelaide sought to institutionalize Alice out of desire for her sister’s money or out of malice, but when their entire lives are taken in account, a much more complex story emerges.

Adelaide (1830-1915) and Alice Hamilton (1838-1905) were two of twelve children born to Maria Eliza van den Heuvel (1795-1873) and John Church Hamilton (1792-1882), who was Elizabeth Schuyler (1757-1854) and Alexander Hamilton’s (1755-1804) son. They grew up in an incredibly wealthy household in New York City, with both of their parents coming from well-off and societally important families. They lived at 17 West 20^th Street in Manhattan, where Adelaide stayed until her death.

While not much information exists about the girls’ childhoods, one letter offers a small window into their world. In a letter from their mother to Adelaide written in January of 1851, when Adelaide was twenty and Alice was twelve, their mother filled Adelaide in on her travels in Baltimore and Washington D.C., and sent suggestions and wishes to her other children still at home with Adelaide. She told Adelaide to give Alice her “best love” and hoped she would go to the opera.

In the crosswritten section, Adelaide sends their nephew Alice's best wishes.

A letter from their brother, Laurens Hamilton (1834-1858), to their other brother, Alexander Hamilton, written in 1855, gives more insight into their lives as well. Laurens wrote that Alice was “’coming out’” that winter, and that he was making his debut too. He described how for women, there is “Fussing all the time before the parties,” while a man “puts on clothes which has probably been worn frequently and walks into the ballroom.”

From these letters, it’s clear the Hamilton children were expected to partake in high society and went through the usual traditions, such as making their formal entrance into the social scene and attending operas and plays.

Adelaide and Alice, as well as one of their other sisters, Charlotte (1819-1896), remained unmarried and
lived in their family home together through adulthood. While Charlotte predeceased them both, later letters from Adelaide to her nephew, Schuyler Hamilton Jr. (1853-1907), reveal she often summered at Newport, Rhode Island, which was a common stomping ground for the wealthy members of New York society. Adelaide and Alice spent the summer of 1897 in Newport. One letter to her nephew dated June 17^th of that year mentioned the house they were staying in, and on September 11, 1897, Adelaide wrote that “Aunt Alice is well and would beg to be remembered if she knew I was writing.”  

Adelaide describing the rooms she and Alice share at their summer home in Newport.

Sadly, within less than a year, everything changed for Alice and Adelaide. The New York Times article on Alice stated that she had been suffering from depression and delusions since at least April of 1898, when she was committed to Pleasantville Sanitorium. Adelaide brought the court case against Alice in 1899, seemingly to keep her there.

Adelaide, as well as medical experts, testified that Alice believed her relatives and herself to be dead, that she experienced religious delusions, and suffered from “melancholia.” She was found insane and had to stay at Pleasantville Sanitorium. The New York Times noted that Alice had a large estate—over $200,000 in property and a personal income of about $6,000 per year—but it did not mention what happened to her assets.

Alice was hospitalized at the “MacDonald House” in Mount Pleasant in Westchester County, New York, right outside of New York City. The doctor who ran the private hospital was Dr. Carl MacDonald, who lived there with his wife and daughter. In 1900, there was a staff of seventeen people, including eight nurses. That year, at the time the census was taken, there were seven patients, including Alice, at the hospital. Nothing is really known about the hospital or the doctor who ran it, but the small number of patients suggests it was for wealthy families, and its location in Westchester County was secluded from New York City in the relative countryside. Alice lived there until her death in 1905.

Adelaide died in 1915, at her family home, with multiple servants living at the estate with her. She was the last of her sisters to die.

As publicized as this story was within their lifetimes, the personal details—such as the true thoughts and emotions behind it—remain a mystery. As we have this new collection in our possession, there’s always a chance we’ll find something in it or in a new collection yet to come that sheds more light on their lives. Until then, this is the story of Adelaide and Alice as the records have told it.

From the Commonplace Book to the Scrapbook

Excerpt of Eliza Schuyler Hamilton's commonplace book. 

Did you know that the first Saturday in May is National Scrapbook Day? Although the term “scrapbook” wasn’t used until the mid to late-1800s, the concept has existed for centuries. Popularized in the 15^th century with the advent of the printing press, people have been using what were called “commonplace books” to compile documents such as recipes, letters, poems, and journal entries. Even as early as the 8^th century, these types of books were used to compile biblical texts, and the concept of these books as a form of personal expression and record keeping developed thereafter.

In 1685, Enlightenment philosopher John Locke wrote a treatise on commonplace books, translated into English in 1706 as A New Method of Making Common-Place-Books. Locke offered insights into how a person could document a wide array of information, including proverbs, speeches, and ideas. By the 18^th century, the commonplace book had cemented its status as a cherished resource for educated women, providing them with a repository for pamphlets, newspaper clippings, and reflections on the world around them.

Within the Schuyler Mansion collections, there is an excerpt of a commonplace book kept by Eliza Hamilton Schuyler (1811-1863), great-granddaughter of Catharine and Philip Schuyler. Entitled “A Common Place book of Winter life,” these pages detail just eight days from January 1^st-8^th of 1855. Three small holes visible on the left-hand side of what is now a single sheet of paper indicate it was once a longer book Eliza kept. How long she kept it, and where the missing pages are, is currently unknown.

The eight surviving entries allow us a glimpse into Eliza’s daily life. Almost every day, she recorded the temperature at exactly 8AM. While she sometimes mentioned activities in her family life, such as taking her children to German school, she mainly focused on nature. Her notes were poetic at times: “soft glowing sunset—streaking the [Hudson] river with broady [sic] bands of red, purple & gold—I take this hour for myself & such to rise” In this case, she was describing the view from her father’s home near Irvington, NY. She wrote that the sunset reminded her of the day she was married. She said that day had been “rainy & dull,” but the “clouds broke—such joy flashed upon me with these brilliant slanting beams, that they have strengthened me ever since—” Her entries provide a beautiful window into her world and memories even over 160 years since she recorded them.

While Eliza’s commonplace book focused on nature and her daily life, so many 19^th century scrapbooks were full of other mementos like tickets, playbills, and magazine clippings. As magazines began to disseminate even more, the art of scrapbooking as we know it today began to develop thanks to Mark Twain patenting a self-pasting scrapbook that would generate over $100,000 in sales. With the photography also becoming more accessible as near the turn of the 20^th century, scrapbooking as opposed to keeping commonplace books became more typical in American homes.

Perhaps as adults, Eliza’s children clipped articles or photos from ladies’ magazines or saved calling cards and playbills. Thanks to each generation’s unique way of keeping mementoes and snippets of their lives as they wanted to remember them, we get a glimpse into a much more personal past.

Poets of the Schuylers' Time: A National Poetry Month Recap

Phillis Wheatley, possibly by Scipio Moorhead;
circa 1773

In April we introduced you to poets from around the world who lived during the 18^th and early 19^th centuries! Here’s a recap, in order of the poets’ births, in case you missed out on a post.

JUPITER HAMMON

Jupiter Hammon was born into slavery in 1711, on Henry Lloyd’s estate on Long Island, New York. Though the details are unknown, he was educated by the Lloyds. As an adult, he worked with Henry on his business, often going to New York City to negotiate trade deals. Hammon may have served in a similar role to Prince, a man enslaved by the Schuylers. Prince also knew how to read and write, a skill he acquired before being enslaved by the Schuylers, and occasionally weighed in on farm management.

Hammon’s first work, “An Evening Thought,” was published in 1760. Like many of his works, it was rooted in religion, which played a vital role in his life. It’s unclear to what degree or how the Lloyds supported him, but the religious nature of his poems may have played a part. In 1778, Hammon wrote a poem to Phillis Wheatley, also known for using religious imagery in her poetry, seemingly to give her encouragement to continue writing:

Jupiter Hammon’s poem to Phillis Wheatley,
courtesy of the Connecticut Historical Society.

Come you, Phillis, now aspire,
And seek the living God,
So step by step thou mayst go higher,
Till perfect in the word

A prominent member of the larger Black community, he gave a speech titled “Address to the
Negroes of the State of New York” to the African Society of New York City in 1787, when he was 76. This and his other works were used throughout the 19^th by anti-slavery activists in support of their cause.

Hammon died in the early 19^th century, sometime before 1806, still enslaved by the Lloyds. He is buried in an unmarked grave on the Lloyd estate. His writing continued to fuel the abolitionist movement throughout the 19^th century. You can learn more about him through the Jupiter Hammon Project: https://preservationlongisland.org/jupiter-hammon-project/

Read more of his poetry here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52546/an-address-to-miss-phillis-wheatly

Yosa Buson by Matsumura Goshun

YOSA BUSON

Yosa Buson was born in the village of Kema (in present day Osaka), Japan, in 1716. He moved to present-day Tokyo to study painting and haiku. He then travelled throughout Japan, keeping records of his travels, before settling in Kyoto in the 1750s.  

Yosa worked as both a painter and poet, and was considered one of the best poets of the Edo Period (1603-1867). He married and had a daughter in Kyoto, but eventually resumed his work and travels. When he returned, he settled down to teach poetry and continue writing.

He died at the age of 68 and was buried at a temple in Kyoto. As his poetry is in Japanese, there are multiple translations into English by different translators. We’ve provided the original Japanese and two translations to show how they vary.

初雪の底を叩ば竹の月

hatsuyuki no soko wo tatakeba take no tsuki

The first light snow
then when the bowl of the sky is empty
the moon hanging in the bamboos

(translated by Merwin and Lento)

The first snow
Emptying itself to its last flake —
The moon above bamboo.

(translated by Takafumi Saito and William R. Nelson)

See more translations and more of his poetry here: https://www.upaya.org/uploads/pdfs/ThirteenHaikubyYosaBuson.pdf

Mrs. James Warren (Mercy Otis) by
John Singleton Copley, circa 1763

MERCY OTIS WARREN

Mercy Otis Warren was born in 1728, in Barnstable, Massachusetts. She had no formal education, but learned by sitting in on her brother’s lessons and using her uncle’s library. When she married James Warren, he encouraged her interest in politics, history, and writing.

When her husband was elected to the Massachusetts Legislature in 1766, they began hosting many politically prominent people, such as the Adams, and Warren began lifelong (at times rocky) friendship with John Adams. When the American Revolution began, she was a staunch rebel. She wrote a history of the American Revolution and became the third women in the United States to publish her poetry. She continuously engaged in politics—expressing her disapproval of the Constitution and desire for women’s education. She died at 86.

You can read one of her poems here and see her ponder keeping within “the narrow bounds, prescrib'd to female life” in response to the man who requested she write a poem on “primitive simplicity” https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/evans/N17785.0001.001/1:15.14?rgn=div2;view=fulltext 

JOHNATHAN ODELL

 An undated portraited miniature of Odell;
artist unknown; courtesy
of New Brunswick Museum

Johnathan Odell was born in 1737 in Newark, New Jersey. He studied medicine at Princeton and graduated in 1754. While still practicing medicine at times, he mainly became an Anglican minister, preaching at parishes in Burlington and Mount Holly in New Jersey.

In 1772, Odell married Anne de Cou and they had three children, one named for Odell’s lifelong friend, William Franklin, Benjamin Franklin’s Loyalist son. The couple tried to appear neutral at the start of the war, but his support of the British soon became known, and in 1776, he was forced by the New Jersey Provincial Congress to sign an oath of loyalty to the rebels. Not long after, they ordered him captured—dead or alive—and he and his family fled to British-held New York City, where he continued supporting the British.

Odell became a spy, satirist, essayist, and poet for the Loyalist cause. His poems were long, and sometimes written with fellow Loyalist, Samuel Seabury. He often named famous rebels in his poems, though Schuyler was seemingly never named in one.

Following the war, the Odells moved to New Brunswick, Canada, where he held multiple government positions. He lived there until his death in 1818. You can read some of his poetry here: https://xtf.lib.virginia.edu/xtf/view?docId=chadwyck_ap/uvaGenText/tei/chap_AM0706.xml&chunk.id=d3&toc.id=d3&brand=default

(Image: an undated portraited miniature of Odell; artist unknown; courtesy of New Brunswick Museum)

PHILLIS WHEATLEY

Phillis Wheatley's signature.

Phillis Wheatley was born in West Africa—possibly Senegal or Gambia—in 1753. She was
kidnapped in 1761, arriving in Boston on July 11^th, 1761. She was purchased by the Wheatley family when she was seven and enslaved by them until she was about twenty.

While enslaved & working in the Wheatley’s household, the Wheatley’s children tutored her in reading & writing. By twelve, she could read Latin & Greek. At fourteen, she wrote her first known poem. While they supported her education & writing, the Wheatleys still enslaved her.

In 1773, Nathaniel Wheatley took her to England, to get her poetry published in a volume, as it was difficult to find a printer willing to do so in the Colonies. The book was published in the summer of 1773, and Wheatley was freed in 1774. Within a few years, both of the Wheatleys were dead, and Phillis married a man named John Peters. They had three children together, but they all died in infancy. Her husband was soon imprisoned for debt and Phillis fell ill while working as a maid. She died in 1784 at 31.

Wheatley’s poetry was recognized by many famous figures of the 18^th century, including George Washington, who she wrote a poem for. While modern scholars sometimes claim she didn’t write about her enslavement, her use of religious metaphors may have been her way of doing so. She was the first Black woman to have her writing published in the United States. You can read one of her poems, “On Imagination,” here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52632/on-imagination

 

Self portrait circa 1802.

WILLIAM BLAKE

William Blake was born on November 28, 1757 (just a few months after Elizabeth Schuyler), in London. He attended formal school up until the age of 10 and was then educated at home by his mother. He was soon enrolled in drawing school and began to take an interest in poetry.

At 15, he was apprenticed to an engraver and was a professional by the time his indenture was over at the age of 21. Afterward, he studied art at the Royal Academy. He married Catherine Boucher in 1781, and she became a partner in his work. In 1783, he published his first book of poetry.

He ran a printshop with a radical publisher, Joseph Johnson, and met many English dissidents this way. Some of his work shows he believed in women’s rights and equality. He was also we talented artist, especially as an engraver, relief etcher, and illustrator.  

He died on August 12, 1827, after drawing a sketch of his wife & promising he’d remain by her side. While friends published and sold his writing, they also destroyed & edited some of it. It wasn’t until the early 21^st century that his importance as a poet was fully acknowledged. 

In his poem “The Clod and the Pebble,” he gives two different views of love: one based on selflessness, and another based on selfishness. You can read it here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43655/the-clod-and-the-pebble

 WU ZAO

Image of one of Wu Zao's poems and a print.

Wu Zao was born in 1799 in Renhe, now Hangzhou, in the Zhejiang province of China. Her
father was a merchant, and she later married a merchant named Huang. It’s been suggested that neither of them were interested in literature.

At the time she was born, the US was importing tea, porcelain, silk, & other goods from China. Wealthy families like the Schuylers bought these goods to show off their status & taste. While these goods were being imported, Chinese poetry had yet to be shared with the wider world.

Wu was a poet and musician, writing an opera, lyrics, and playing the qin—a stringed instrument. Her poems were commonly sung throughout China and had a casual and personal tone to them. She wrote multiple romantic poems to women throughout her life.

Not much is known about her later life aside from the fact that she converted to Buddhism. Many scholars consider her to be one of the top three women poets in China. Some of her poems have been translated into English. Read “Swallows” in the original Chinese and as translated into English by Irving Y. Lo 译 below.

吴藻·《如梦令·燕子》

燕子未随春去，
飞入绣帘深处。
软语话多时，
莫是要和侬住？
延伫，延伫，
含笑回它：“不许！”

Not all the swallows have left with the spring:
One flies past embroidered curtains into my inner room.
Softly, endlessly, it murmurs;
Could it be saying, “May I stay with you?”
Waiting for an answer,
Waiting for an answer,
With a smile, I reply, “No, you mustn’t.”

You can learn more about her here: https://legacyprojectchicago.org/person/wu-zao

Jane Johnston Schoolcraft;
artist and date unknown.

JANE JOHNSTON SCHOOLCRAFT

Baamewaawaagizhigokwe, or “Woman of the Sound the Stars Make Rushing Through the Sky,” also known as Jane Johnston Schoolcraft, is considered by many historians to be the first known Native American English literary writer.

Jane Johnston Schoolcraft was born in 1800 in Sault Ste. Marie in what is now Michigan. Her mother, who was Ojibwe, was an important political leader and her father, who was Scottish-Irish, was a fur trapper. They were important leaders in the local Ojibwa and Euro-American communities.

Jane learned the Ojibwe language & culture from her mother & had access to her father’s English library, where she learned about written English literature. She wrote her own works in both languages and translated Ojibwa works into English, likely being the first person to do so.

In 1823, she married Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, also a writer, and US Indian Agent in the Michigan Territory for some time. They had four children together. Her writing, which was mostly private, included a homemade literary magazine circulated only between herself & her husband.

Even though she was born much later, her life contained multiple parallels to Schuyler’s with her father working in the fur trade industry as Schuyler once did, and her husband serving as a US Indian Agent, similar to Schuyler’s position of Commissioner for Indian Affairs.

She died in 1842, after experiencing frequent bouts of illness for several years. Today, she is recognized as a poet, translator, and storyteller. Her poems have been published in both Ojibwe and English, with some set to music. You can read her poem, “To the Pine Tree,” translated by Maragret Noodin, here: https://poets.org/poem/pine-tree

Zhingwaak! Zhingwaak! Ingii-ikid, – Pine! Pine! I said,
Weshki waabamag zhingwaak – The one I see, the pine
Dagoshinaan neyab, endanakiiyaan. – I return back, to my homeland.
Zhingwaak, zhingwaak nos sa! – The pine, the pine my father!

Azhigwa gidatisaanan – Already you are colored
Gaagige wezhaawashkozid. – Forever you are green
Mii sa naa azhigwa dagoshinaang – So we already have arrived
Bizindamig ikeyaamban – Listen in that direction

Geget sa, niminwendam – Certainly I am happy
Miinwaa, waabandamaan – And I see
Gii-ayaad awiiya waabandamaan niin – He was there I saw it myself
Zhingwaak, zhingwaak nos sa! – The pine, the pine my father!
Azhigwa gidatisaanan. – Already you are colored.

Gaawiin gego, gaa-waabanda’iyan – Nothing, you did show me
Dibishkoo, ezhi-naagwasiinoon – Like that, the way it looks
Zhingwaak wezhaawashkozid – Pine he is green.
Wiin eta gwanaajiwi wi – He is beautiful
Gaagige wezhaawashkozid. – Forever he is the green one.

The Hamilton Sisters: Women's History Month 2023 in Review

Mary Morris Hamilton,
circa 1870s.

The following blog post is a compilation from our 2023 Women’s History Month social media posts. Enjoy!

When researching women’s history, there can be a lot of missing information. That’s why it was so exciting to receive about 20 letters from 1830-1835 that show in detail the lives of five siblings—four sisters & one brother—great-grandchildren of the Schuylers. Reading the letters is like taking a deep-dive into their world: the trips between their home in Manhattan and their other in Westchester, their brother constantly asking for updates from home, their travels, and their nicknames for each other and their friends. It's a brief but intimate look into their lives.

Meet our main characters: Elizabeth (Eliza) (1811-1863), Frances (Fanny) (1815-1887), Mary (Molly) (1818-1877), Angelica (Gekky/Geek) (1819-1868), and their brother, Alexander Jr. (Alex) (1816-1889), as we delve into their stories!

(Letter depicted in first tweet is from Charlotte "Chatty" Hamilton to Angelica "Geek/Gekky" Hamilton, who were cousins.)

“Cousin Chatty” (Charlotte “Chatty” Hamilton)

Chatty's letter to Angelica ("Geek").

Often referred to as “Cousin Chatty,” Charlotte was the daughter of the Hamilton girls’ uncle, John Hamilton. Born in 1819, she was the same age as Angelica, or “Geek/Gekky,” as Chatty and Angelica’s siblings affectionately called her.

Chatty wrote Angelica a letter December 29th, 1836, while Angelica was in Paris. She wrote Angelica that she was sad she didn’t receive a letter from her, but “the knowledge however that you are neither sick nor frightened has in a measure consoled me.” She told Angelica about the balls, parties, and weddings she attended, writing “I have partaken pretty largely in the gaiety & promise myself the pleasure of doing so for the rest of the season.”

She gave Angelica some of the gossip on their friends, writing “Many are under the influence of the United Charms of E. Balrey [?] & the beautiful Miss Church.” “Miss Church” was likely one of their cousins, descended through their great-aunt, Angelica Schuyler Church. At the end of the letter, Charlotte asked what Angelica and her family had done for Christmas, and told her “We have missed you all very much, there seems such a blank in the family circle.” This shows how close the two girls were.

A year later, Fanny Hamilton wrote to Angelica about Charlotte, telling her “Chatty has not been well. She has been excessively admised [to yield to suffer] this winter, […] everyone agrees in saying that it [her beauty] is painful the great appearance of her want of health.” Fanny told her sister that she didn’t see Chatty much, but when she did, she thought her “far from well” and was often asked if “she is not a great invalid.” But Chatty’s parents “are not at all aware of it, they say she is perfectly well.” A month later, Eliza gave an update on Chatty, writing “Chatty is here [at their home in Westchester, Nevis] & seems stronger—she walks every day with more pleasure & eats more—”

Through these letters, we see three of the four sisters, Eliza, Fanny, and Angelica, all discussed & were concerned about Chatty, however no later letters reveal anything further about Chatty. The only known facts are that she lived in Manhattan, did not marry, and died at 76 in 1896.

 

Fanny in Baltimore

Fanny's letter to Angelica.

In late March of 1837, Fanny was travelling through Philadelphia, Baltimore, D.C., and Norfolk with members of her extended family. Her letter to Gekky covered everything from the weather to the various people she met on her travels. The letter between the sisters also shows how far their social network extended, likely because of their status as an elite, wealthy New York family.

Even hundreds of miles from home, Fanny met at least two women who knew their family and remarked on her resemblance to her father. She told Gekky to “tell Papa I met Mrs. Barren” and then added in a bit of gossip: “she sang for me, her voice so broken and having relinquished her colour is very much altered, altho’ I knew her immediately she says she recognized me from my resemblance to him” Fanny confided in Gekky that she’s “to drink tea this even. with a Mrs. Thompson of [tear in letter] place a friend of Aunt Alexander’s I expect to have a horrid time” Her bluntness seems like a classic quip between siblings—something that transcends centuries!

When they travelled, letters were what kept the sisters together. Reading letters between them feels like listening in on a personal conversation because that’s what they are at their core. At the end of her letter, Fanny was excited about finding what letters possibly awaited her at her next destination.

 

Alexander Jr. to Eliza

Alex Jr.'s letter to Eliza.

In 1832, Alexander Jr., the younger brother of the Hamilton sisters, was a student at West Point. He often wrote them letters, and they wrote him ones in return, but not all of those letters have survived. Through a letter to his older sister Eliza, we can get a glimpse into what her life was like when she was about twenty, though it’s important to remember this is through her brother’s eyes. We can also see the close relationship the two of them shared.

In the opening of a letter from November 1832, Alexander mentions Eliza attended the opera in Manhattan. It’s likely she saw "The Italian Girl in Algiers," as that was presented in Manhattan within that timeframe. In the same letter, Alex implores her to “resume your former plan of sending The Standard as often as possible—I shall thus get more news with less trouble to you,” referencing upcoming elections they were both interested in. Toward the end of the letter, he writes “I have thought of making Chocolate for some time, but don’t know how to set to work. I wish you would tell me how you made it last winter as I recollect it was very good.”

From a single letter, we learned Eliza went to the opera, was interested in the ongoing elections, and could make chocolate. While we couldn’t learn this from her own perspective, sometimes we must look everywhere for women’s history—and we get lucky enough to find it!

Where are the portraits?

Mary "Molly" Hamilton,
portrait miniature by
Richard Morell Staigg; 1860.

As a wealthy, affluent family, it’s likely there were multiple portraits and even photographs of all the Hamilton sisters, but, out of all the sisters, there is only one portrait and one photograph of Mary “Molly” Hamilton Schuyler.

The portrait miniature was painted by Richard Morell Staigg in 1860, when Mary was 42. The sole known photograph of Mary was taken at some point in the 1870s based on her hairstyle and dress. While the portrait miniature was painted before her marriage, the photograph was taken after.

Based on when portraits of her husband and children were painted, Eliza Hamilton likely had a portrait miniature of herself painted in 1840 & possibly again in 1850. As photographs of her daughters exist, it’s likely at least one was taken of her as well before her death in 1863.

A photograph was taken of Angelica’s husband in 1859, a year before their marriage. It’s likely she had a photograph taken upon or after their marriage as well. Portraits from her younger years probably existed too, just like that of her older sister, Mary.

As for Frances, or Fanny, it’s likely she at least had a miniature portrait painted of her before her marriage, and was likely painted or photographed after as well, but as there are none of her husband, it’s harder to guess when they would date to.

While we may not be able to put faces to most of the Hamilton sisters, we hope the bits of the letters by and to them have still brought them to life for you.

Next Generation

Eliza Hamitlon married her cousin, George Schuyler, and together they had three children: Philip, Louisa, and Georgina. Louisa and Georgina went on to become activists, following in the footsteps of their mother and their aunt, Mary Hamilton.

Learn more about Louisa’s activism here, Georgina’s work on historic preservation here, and their joint effort to donate family furniture to Schuyler Mansion upon its opening in 1917 here.

Louisa, Georgina, and Philip Schuyler,
circa 1851; artist unidentified. 

Related

Take a look at this blog post about poems Eliza received when she was a young student and learn more about who she received them from.

Check back in the future for more blog posts about the women of Schuyler Mansion.