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.

"exceedingly disagreeable to me:" Angelica Schuyler's Elopement

 by Heather Damia 

Portrait miniature of John Barker Church
(1748-181) by an unnamed artist. 

On the 23^rd of June, 1777, Angelica Schuyler married John Barker Church. The marriage drew outrage from Angelica’s parents, Philip and Catharine Schuyler, who had not given their permission for the union, and the elopement sparked a dramatic conflict involving three generations of the family. Throughout days of heated arguments, cold disregard, and threats of disinheriting, Angelica and her parents almost never spoke face-to-face. Negotiations happened largely through Angelica’s grandparents, and nearly all direct communication between the Schuylers and their daughter happened through letters. The eldest Schuyler daughter was the first to marry, and she set a precedent for many of her younger siblings, three of whom followed her example in ignoring their parents’ wishes regarding their romantic lives.

John Barker Church was certainly not an ideal suitor for a daughter of one of the most important families in Albany. At the time, the Englishman was in debt, and worked as an auditor for the Continental Army under the alias “John Carter.” Because he was known in New York under this false identity, rather than under his true name, John was very secretive with details regarding his background, his family, and his past. Specific information about his family or connections back in England ran the threat of revealing the falsehood of the “John Carter” identity, so he was limited in what he could reveal without causing issues for himself with both his family and his new acquaintances. Shortly after the elopemnet, Philip Schuyler aired his frustrations in a letter to William Duer, a friend who was also involved in the ongoing revolution. Philip cited his lack of knowledge regarding the suitor’s background as a major objection to the marriage, and possibly the primary reason he was opposed to it: “Carter & my oldest daughter ran off and married on the 23^rd inst., unacquainted with his family, his connections and situation in life, the match was exceedingly disagreeable to me and I had signified it to him.” [1] While John’s true identity was eventually revealed to his in-laws, they continue to refer to him as “Carter” in letters for quite some time, so it is unclear when his real name was made known to them. 

Not much is definitively known regarding the courtship of John Barker Church and Angelica Schuyler. They likely met in 1776, perhaps when “John Carter” was part of a group selected to audit the accounts of the Northern Department, which was under Philip Schuyler’s command as a major general, but the details of their first meeting and subsequent relationship are few and far between. It appears that prior to the elopement, Angelica and John’s relationship wasn’t a secret romance. Philip’s inclination to “signify” his disapproval of the match to John hints at the Schuylers’ awareness of Angelica and John’s courtship. This may imply that the young couple asked for permission to marry—and were denied. The lack of permission did not deter them. They eloped on June 23^rd, 1777, when John was 28 years of age, and Angelica was 21. This development came at a particularly bad time for Philip, who had recently lost the election for governor, and who was struggling both militarily and politically. His letter to Duer also features extensive complaints about the state of politics at the time, and frustration with his loss, which he felt was unjust. The elopement was yet another unpleasant surprise to return home to.

Angelica Schuyler Church circa 1780s,
attributed to Richard Cosway.

Naturally, Angelica’s parents reacted rather poorly to the marriage. Their objections were so strong that it seems they cast out their own daughter in anger. At the very least, they made her feel unwelcome enough that she, along with her husband, left the house to find another place to stay. The newlyweds sought the aid of Angelica’s maternal grandfather, Johannes van Rensselaer, who lived across the Hudson River from Schuyler Mansion at Fort Crailo in “Greenbush” (current day Rensselaer) with his wife, Catharine’s stepmother. In a letter to Walter Livingston dated to July 2^nd, John explained: “we stopped at GreenBush on Thursday Afternoon, where we were received by the amiable and venerable Proprietors with the Greatest Friendship and cordiality and instantly heard Promises of all their influence being exerted in our favor.” [2] Their hosts were very generous, and their treatment of the young couple was “beyond description charming and affectionate”—a stark contrast to the coldness of Philip and Catharine Schuyler.

The van Rensselaers quickly made good on their promise to help the new Mr. and Mrs. Church. In the same letter, John detailed days worth of peacemaking attempts on the part of Angelica’s grandfather and his wife. Their first attempt to encourage reconciliation was to pass along a letter from Angelica and her husband to Philip and Catharine, who were residing at their home in Saratoga at the time. John wrote: “The General and Mrs S had not arrived here and Mrs. Rennsillear desired the major to go with our Letter to Saratoga. Next morning; he met them at Stillwater coming down on Friday, they took the letter and sent him on…” This effort to connect with Angelica’s parents seems to have been in vain, however. Philip and Catharine returned from Albany and took up residence across the river at Schuyler Mansion that very afternoon, but the letter received no response, either that day or the next. Initial attempts at reconciliation were met with silence. 

A 20th century postcard depicting Fort Crailo.
This was Catharine Van Rensselaer Schuyler’s
childhood home and the location at which
Angelica Schuyler Church and her husband,
John Barker Church, took refuge after they
were exiled for their elopement. 

The slight did not go unnoticed. While Mrs. van Rensselaer encouraged her husband to visit the Schuylers to talk and “make Peace,” he was less willing to extend the olive branch. He believed that “it was his Daughter’s Duty to come to him,” and refused to send for her on the grounds that “her Duty ought to bring her [there] without sending.” Eventually, van Rensselaer yielded to his wife’s wishes, and sent a letter to his daughter and son-in-law inviting them to dinner at his home. After sending this message, he suggested that Angelica and John spend dinner time in Albany rather than with them at the house in Rensselaer—a request that John interpreted as a suggestion to make themselves scarce while Angelica’s parents were visiting in order to avoid further conflict between them. More letters were exchanged to negotiate the time of the meeting, and the Schuylers agreed to visit, but the visit never actually took place. By 8 o’clock that evening, the Schuylers still had not arrived, and the Churches decided to return to Crailo. As they approached the ferry from Albany back across the river, they caught sight of the Schuylers, also seemingly on their way to the very same ferry. Upon seeing their daughter and son-in-law, Philip and Catharine turned back and returned home without ever going to Crailo.

Portrait of Philip Schuyler, Angelica Schuyler
Church’s father, from 1792 by artist John Trumbull.

They tried again on Monday—the Churches once again fled into Albany to leave a clear path for the Schuylers to visit Crailo, and this time, the meeting actually occurred. Unfortunately, John’s letter described it as a very tense exchange:

[…] the General scarcely spoke a dozen Words all the Time, Mrs S was in almost violent Passion and said all that Rage of Resentment could inspire…she exasperated [van Rensselaer], and he told her that he didn’t know who she took after, he was sure not after her Father and Mother…and that he was convinced I would make his child an affectionate Husband, that they might do as they please, but if they would not be reconciled to us, he would look upon us as his Children and that we should stay at his House…

An outburst from Mrs. Schuyler was met with a sharp rebuke from her father: a threat to “look upon [the Churches] as his Children,” possibly suggesting that Catharine’s inheritance could be given to her estranged daughter in her stead. The Schuylers insisted that Angelica and her husband should have talked to them when they encountered one another on Sunday, and should have written to them again, but the van Rensselaers argued that the young couple could not be expected to send more letters when their first had been ignored. The negotiations were ultimately concluded when the Schuylers finally agreed to respond to any messages the Churches sent. They did as they had promised, and while John described their responses as cold, they did agree to have their daughter and son-in-law for a visit at Schuyler Mansion.

John described the Schuylers as treating him and his wife “as cooly as their letter promised.” He presented a rather dramatic and emotional meeting, in which he begged Catharine to accept them back into the family, and implored Philip to “forget what was past.” From Philip’s point of view, however, this meeting seemed to have been largely a formality. Philip’s letter to William Duer stated: “as there is no untying this gordian knot I took what I hope you will think the prudent part: I frowned, I made them humble themselves forgave and called them home.” Philip described the meeting as something of a power play—an assertion of authority over his daughter and son-in-law to make them feel as though they must “humble themselves” to earn his approval. Despite this show of authority, it seems his mind was settled on forgiveness before the Churches arrived and made their declarations. Philip’s conversation with his father-in-law and the negotiations via letters were seemingly enough to settle him on this course, but the conversation allowed him to set himself in a position of power over the man who ran off with his daughter, promising to “take the Freedom of giving [John] advice when he thought [he] stood in need of it with the Candor of a Parent…” John, of course, said what he knew would appease Philip: “I thanked him and told him I should be much obliged to him for it and would always pay a deference to it…” John and Angelica continued to feel unwelcome and unforgiven, believing that the Schuylers had only made peace out of “Fear of disobliging Mr R if they continue their Coldness”, but Philip, at least, claimed to have moved on and accepted the situation. 

Portrait of Angelic Schuyler Church painted circa 1785,
by artist John Trumbull. The image shows Angelica in a
peach colored dress with one of her children and a woman
who is most likely a maid or family member.

Letters were the main mode of communication in the 18th century, and enduring this
upheaval in the Schuyler family was no exception. Much of the negotiations conducted regarding the marriage occurred through letters, but, unfortunately, not all of the letters seemed to have survived to the present day. The two letters cited in this post provide a different—but still valuable—perspective, as they tell us how the men involved perceived the events. As both men wrote to someone removed from the situation, it’s possible they were more honest about their feelings in these letters than they might have been in their letters to one of the people involved in the whole affair. However, it remains unclear what the Churches and Schuylers actually said to one another in these messages back and forth across the river. What justifications might Angelica and her husband have given for their actions? Did they beg forgiveness, express regret? Were the Schuylers truly as frigid as John described them to be? The letters so central to the events of this Schuyler family story cannot provide us with intimate knowledge of how the people involved actually addressed one another. The most glaring absence is the lack of sources directly from the women: the daughter who eloped and the mother driven to “a most violent Passion” by the betrayal. The women’s reactions are described by John—“Angelica is much distressed”—but their own thoughts are notably absent in the narrative. The exact thoughts, feelings, and details surrounding the elopement may remain a mystery, but through the two different accounts, we’re at least able to reconstruct the bare bones of this dramatic chapter in the Schuyler family story. 

 

[1] Letter from Philip Schuyler to William Duer from July 3-5, 1777, in the New York Public Library Schuyler Papers. 

[2] Letter from John Barker Church to Walter Livingston from July 2, 1777. 

“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.

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[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.

Part III: Cornelia Lynch Schuyler Morton: Scorned, Miserable, and Passing

 By Sarah Lindecke

Cornelia Schuyler painted by John Trumbull 
in 1792, as part of a series of miniatures 
commemorating George Washington.

In this final installment of the blog series on Cornelia Lynch Schuyler Morton (1775-1808) we will focus on the ending years of her life, from the time of her parents’ deaths in 1803 and 1804, through her own death in 1808, including some details about the people she left behind.

As noted in the previous installment, Cornelia’s choice of a husband was not exactly beloved by her family, and this caused various rifts throughout the years. Despite this, Cornelia was included in the wills of her parents—given a share of the inheritance alongside her living siblings and the children of her deceased ones. In the aftermath of her parents’ deaths, a land dispute between her older sister Eliza Schuyler Hamilton (1757-1854), Cornelia, and their youngest sister, Caty Schuyler Malcolm Cochran (1781-1857) took place. This land dispute started when Cornelia and Caty accused Eliza of taking extra money from her parents after her husband, Alexander Hamilton’s (1755-1804), death. The conflict between the sisters expanded when Cornelia and Caty sought to take land that Eliza had rightfully inherited, but didn’t have the deed for because their father had died before he could finalize it. This scene in Cornelia’s life is fully detailed in a pair of blog posts: Schuyler Siblings Land Squabble Part 1 and My Dear Sister: Eliza and Caty Post Squabble Part 2. While these posts get into the squabble in more detail it is important to note that during the final years of her life, Cornelia was with one of her sisters. It is implied that Cornelia and Caty’s husbands were the ones more insistent on fighting the land battle, though they were not executors of Philip Schuyler’s will. If this is true, Washington Morton was certainly not mending fences with his wife’s family by pressuring a suit about land and inheritances.

A portrait of Mary Anna Sawyer Schuyler--Cornelia's 
sister-in-law--painted by Gilbert Stuart as part of a set 
with her husband, Philip Jeremiah Schuyler. The set was 
commissioned by Cornelia and her husband, Washington 
Morton, most likely as a gift for their wedding that took 
place in 1807. 

While Washington Morton may have been causing more issue between Cornelia and her siblings, the two of them were creating a family of their own. Cornelia and Washington Morton’s five children are as follows: Catherine Lynch Van Rensselaer Morton (1799-1887); Capt Alexander Hamilton Morton (1800-1853); Philip Schuyler Morton (1803-?); Mary Regina Morton (1806-1881); and Cornelia Lynch Morton (1808-1831). While there is not much known about the younger years of Cornelia’s children, we do know a bit about the education Catherine van Rensselaer Morton, their first child. In a letter written on December 6^th, 1807, Mary Anna Sawyer Schuyler (1786-1852), the wife of Cornelia’s brother Philip Jerimiah Schuyler (1768-1835), wrote of Catherine’s education. When Washington Morton visited Mary Anna at her home in Rhinebeck, he told her about Catherine’s placement in “an excellent school.”[1] Mary Anna then asserted her own contrary knowledge of Catherine’s schooling she’d heard from the young girl herself. Catherine, it seemed, did not enjoy the school her father spoke so highly of. Mary Anna appeared to have received this knowledge from a letter Catherine wrote her. The Mortons likely wanted to provide their children with education, but as it can be seen with their daughter Catherine, the schooling may not have been something they enjoyed.

Not long after this letter was written, Cornelia died. According to letters and obituaries, she passed on June 5^th, 1808, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, at just thirty-three years old. Mary Anna Sawyer Schuyler wrote about Cornelia’s death in a letter from June 13^th, 1808, retelling much of the circumstances of her sister-in-law’s passing. She wrote:

She [Cornelia] had been at Philadelphia for four or five weeks past and the information we got was upon the whole she was gaining – this however was incorrect, she has faltered fast and has finally paid the debt of nature – I just got a few hurried lines from Morton – he says she expired ten minutes past ten on the morning of the 5^th instant. Her remains were brought to New York and interred on the 11^th.

I have some of the particulars – … and you will probably get a letter from him – I know your affection will be great, Cornelia endeared herself to all who knew her by her many [virtues] […]

I saw her almost two months since – she was then confined to her bed & much emaciated – but as cheerful & conversable as ever I knew her in health – It would have afforded us inexpressible comfort could her last moments been here – but it was not to be so…

This letter indicates that Cornelia suffered a wasting illness, most likely a cancer. Something she may have had in common with her older sister Margeret “Peggy” Schuyler van Rensselaer (1758-1801), who died from a similar sort of illness. We cannot be sure what the actual cause of Cornelia’s death was, but can take note that she was likely visiting Philadelphia to seek treatment for her illness as the city was a well-known center of emerging medical technology and treatment.

An obituary from a New York City newspaper following her death read:

Died, at Philadelphia, on the 5^th inst. after a lingering illness, Mrs. Cornelia Lynch Morton, the amiable wife of Washington Morton, Esq. of this city. She has left five children, and a numerous circle of friends, to lament the loss of one of the best of mothers and one of the worthiest of women.

The friends of Mr. Morton are invited to attend her funeral from his residence 118 Greenwich street, to morrow afternoon at 5 o’clock.

From this obituary and Mary Anna Schuyler’s record, it appears that Cornelia was missed greatly by her community. She was a dear mother and friend to many. She also may have been the glue holding her family together as after her death, everything fell apart.

Cornelia’s husband was not a shining example of a grieving widower and father during the years following her death. Perhaps Philip Schuyler’s earlier concerns about Washington Morton had been legitimate because Morton entirely abandoned his role as a father following Cornelia’s death. Mary Anna Sawyer Schuyler wrote on December 5^th, 1809, to Catherine “Caty” van Rensselaer Schuyler Malcom Cochran (1781-1857):

I understand Morton is leading a very splendid and gay life with a handsome French mistress in London – so much for parental tenderness I sometimes think he has completely abandoned his children.[2]

This letter suggests that Mary Anna and much of the extended Schuyler family lost touch with Washington Morton sometime after Cornelia’s death. Furthermore, Mary Anna’s concern for the Morton children was personal, as she and her husband took a large part in the care of the Mortons’ children after Cornelia’s death and Washington Morton’s abandonment of his family.

Engraving of Washington Morton in 1796, by Charles Balthazar Julien Fevert
de Saint-Memin.

Washington Morton’s unspoken but wayward tendencies were made explicit in Mary Anna’s letter. Philip Schuyler and other family chose to obfuscate some of their concerns, likely assuming the recipients of their correspondence were in the know and didn’t need explicit details. Mary Anna, however, was forthright with her worries. Her words may have validated the various concerns of the Schuylers, even years after they were first written.

Cornelia may not have been alive to see the breakdown of her family, but her children would never live with their father again, as he died in Paris in 1810. They remained with Mary Anna, who seemed to have raised them like they were her own children. Mary Regina Morton inherited much of Mary Anna’s estate and later purchase and revitalized Mary Anna and Philip Jerimiah’s house “the Grove” in Rhinebeck, New York.

Cornelia’s story ended with a somber sadness as she died at a young age and her family was torn apart in the wake of her death, but her witty spirit lives on through the letters she penned and through the bold life choices she made. Thank you for keeping up with our series about Cornelia’s life, and look ahead for some more great posts about some of the other Schuyler siblings.

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[1] Letter written by Mary Anna Sawyer Schuyler from Boston on December 6^th 1807?

[2] Letter from Mary Anna Sawyer Schuyler to Catherine “Caty” Schuyler Malcom Cochran from December 5^th, 1809, in the New York State Museum Catherine Schuyler Malcom Cochran collection.

Part II: Cornelia Lynch Schuyler Becomes a Morton: The Elopement at Stockbridge

by Sarah Lindecke

“The Lovers Tryst” by artist Charles Joseph Frederic Soulacroix. The pair in this
portrait are secluded with loving looks upon their faces. Reminiscent of the
sentiments Cornelia and Washington Morton may have experienced in their marriage. 

Welcome back to our blog series on Cornelia Schuyler (1775-1808). In our last blog post, you learned about her childhood and teenage years. This installment will focus on the scandalous elopement of Cornelia Schuyler and George Washington Morton (1776-1810) that took place in 1797, including the Schuyler family responses to the elopement.

There is not a lot known about George Washington Morton, or Washington Morton as he is most often called. He is said to have been born in Essex, New Jersey in 1776, to John Morton (1711-1781) and Maria Sophia Kemper Morton (1738-1832). His birth month and date are not known, but he was the last of six children in the Mortons’ marriage. Despite the minimal knowledge of Washington Morton himself, his father is well known because he was a financial backer for the Continental Congress. John Morton was often referred to as the “Rebel Banker” because he liquidated much of his personal business holdings and funneled his funds to the Continental Congress. This was not officially sanctioned by the rules of the Continental Congress, but it lent John Morton credit as an “alternative funding source for the rebels,” something greatly appreciated at the time.[1] His family also appeared to have supported the rebel military. They furnished the rebel encampment near their home in New Jersey with some supplies while also establishing an army hospital.[2]

 Washington Morton was a lawyer by trade. He trained at Princeton, where he graduated in 1792. It is not known where or how he finished his studies to become a lawyer. The 19^th century book, History of the City of New York: Its Origin, Rise and Progress by Martha Joanna Lamb and Mrs. Burton Harrison, support the claim that he went to Princeton, but the work also heavily romanticized the details of Washington Morton’s younger years, and is one of very few sources that can speak to his history. The authors suggest:

As a youth, more of his time was given to the pleasures of the world than to its affairs. His fondness for athletic exercise led him on one occasion to test his powers of endurance by walking to Philadelphia for a wager. … Upon returning to New York he was lionized.[3]

These details of Washington Morton’s life are generally parroted by other sources, but there are no primary sources to back them up. Furthermore, these authors butchered and rewrote the story of Washington Morton’s elopement with Cornelia, significantly hindering their credibility.

Though we still don’t know everything about Cornelia and Washington Morton’s choice to elope, there is a first-hand account written by Washington Morton, which he wrote to his sister, Eliza Susan Morton Quincy (1774-1850), in the days directly following the event. The letter is dated October 14^th, 1797, and was written from Albany:

I never could excuse it to my ever Dear sister were I permit any time to elapse without informing her of the alteration in my Situation—On Saturday evening the 8 of October Miss Cornelia Schuyler consented to unite her fate with mine—The manner in which she did it flatters me though it must have pained her; Her mother and myself had a difference which extended to the father and I had got my wife in opposition to them both—She leapt from a Two Story Window into my arms and abandoning every thing for me gave the most convincing proof of what a husband most Desires to Know that his wife Loves him—We were united at Stockbridge and spend two days with Mr. Sedgewick—We returned to the Manor of Livingston where I Left my wife with her godmother Mrs. Livingston and came hither to arrange some Business—On Monday I leave for the […] whence I shall go immediately home […]

Thus my dear sister I am at length Lost and the vast field of matrimony is doomed to be my habitation—Also the rest of the family are my warm friends and you must not permit the present difference [existing] between some of us give you uneasiness—for it will be but for a moment.[4]

George Washington Morton painted by Gilbert Stuart.
Part of the set with Cornelia.

Washington Morton’s version of the story is rather romantic and sanitized and makes him sound like an honorable man. Washington Morton was flattered by Cornelia’s decision to forsake her family, despite the obvious nod to the strife within her family caused by their relationship. He seemed to be quite comfortable with her choice to risk physical danger by jumping out of her second story window. However, beneath the obvious self-flattery of this letter, there is an interesting detail to question. Why was Washington Morton “in disagreement” with the Schuylers and what other sources speak to this split between the Schuylers and Mortons?

The Schuylers themselves never made official or direct reference to what their concern was with Washington Morton. The first mention of Morton was written by Cornelia’s father, Philip Schuyler, to her older sister, Eliza Schuyler Hamilton (1751-1854), on November 26^th, 1797, just a month after the wedding had occurred. The section about Cornelia reads:

I have by the mail that conveys this written a letter to my unhappy Cornelia and in the spirit which you wish. I hope it will restore peace to her mind, if she can possibly enjoy it, with a man of such untoward disposition as her husband – I apprehend very much that he will render her miserable, and increase my affliction, - interpose your advice to her, and intreat my Hamilton to exert his endeavors to bring her husband to reason perhaps that he may still be reclaimed and become intitled to our attentions.[5]

Here no direct mention is made to the disagreements between the Schuylers and Mortons, but, evidently, even within a month of their wedding, there were significant issues within the family. One thing to keep in mind is that we cannot be sure if Philip Schuyler was projecting his own unfounded thoughts about the couple or accurately predicting Cornelia’s future in this letter to Eliza. Philip Schuyler feared for his own health should his daughter’s marriage prove to be as unhappy as he suspected, but instead of pushing his daughter away, he hoped to see their relationship repaired.

There are more references made to Washington Morton’s “incorrigible” behavior, as Philip Schuyler called it. Washington Morton’s conduct appeared to remain something of a spectacle for the well-to-do Schuylers who were personally concerned about their daughter and the life she would lead with Washington Morton. In a letter written by Philip Schuyler to his son Philip Jerimiah Schuyler (1768-1835) on November 20^th of 1801, he stated:

Mr. Morton and your sister leaves this to morrow [sic], his conduct whilst here has been unusual, most preposterous. Seldom an evening at home, and seldom even at dinner – I have not thought it prudent to say the least word to him on the occasion, as advice on such an irregular character is thrown away.[6]

The Schuylers concerns about the Mortons remained somewhat vague. Philip Schuyler wasn’t making a lot of effort to lump Cornelia in with the irregularities, but still refered to the Mortons as a unit. It appears that Schuyler took more issue with Washington Morton’s choice to balk tradition because his choices pushed against usual social conventions. Yet for all the issues he took with Washington Morton’s actions, Philip Schuyler appeared to be so disinterested in correcting the wrongs that he couldn’t be bothered to speak with him, even to offer advice.

When read together, these letters suggest that Cornelia’s family disliked Morton from the outset no matter the arguments or promises Cornelia could make to her family. Despite this rather negative view of the marriage, it was still a productive one as Cornelia had five children with Washington Morton before her passing in 1808.

 Coming soon, check out the final blog in our Cornelia series where her untimely death at thirty-three years old will be discussed, as well as what would come of her family in the following years.

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[1] John Morton - General Washington's Rebel Banker Hid in Basking Ridge - Mr. Local History Project (mrlocalhistory.org) and John Morton (1711-1781) - HouseHistree

[2] John Morton - General Washington's Rebel Banker Hid in Basking Ridge - Mr. Local History Project (mrlocalhistory.org) and John Morton (1711-1781) - HouseHistree

[3] From the History of the City of New York: Its Origin, Rise and Progress Volume 3 by Martha Joanna Lamb and Mrs. Burton Harrison

[4] Letter from Washington Morton to Eliza Susan Morton Quincy from Albany on October 14^th, 1797, Quincy Papers in the Massachusetts Historical Society.

[5] Letter from Philip Schuyler to Eliza Schuyler Hamilton from Albany on November 26^th 1797, in the Library of Congress Hamilton Papers: 2017 Addition: covering years 1796-1799.

[6] Letter from Philip Schuyler to Philip Jerimiah Schuyler from Albany on November 20^th, 1801.