Friday, February 15, 2019

Not Two Miles Apart: Brit, Will, and Love in the Face of Slavery


By Jessie Serfilippi and Ian Mumpton

The Schuyler family history is full of intriguing romances—from Philip and Catharine’s rushed marriage (with Angelica’s birth coming just five months later) to four of their eight children eloping, there has always been a lot to talk about when it comes to love. There is one couple, however, whose story we know just the most basic of facts about- but what a story it is, nonetheless. For Will and Brit, their love was was forged in the face of slavery and years of separation from each other.
Will (sometimes called Bill) was enslaved by the Schuyler family at the Schuyler Mansion, their estate outside of Albany. Brit lived less than 2 miles away, on Market Street (roughly Broadway today), as an enslaved servant of the Ten Broeck family. Despite this geographic proximity, Brit and Will would have had little opportunity to see each other. They doubtless savored any moments that they could spend in each others' company.
From their later connections to the church, and the fact that both the Schuylers and Ten Broecks were part of the congregation, they probably attended church services together at the Dutch church on occasion. Their enslavers were also close friends, and it is possible that Brit and Will may have accompanied them during visits to the other's property. However, Will is not mentioned as one of Philip's regular attendants. Similarly, Brit is not mentioned as a personal attendant, and may have been assigned to cooking and housework, rather than accompanying the family on outings. 
The law also imposed severe limitations on their ability to be together. Strict, punitive legislation in place at various points in 18th century Albany, passed out of fear that social gatherings of slaves could lead to escape attempts or violent resistance, prevented enslaved people from gathering outside of their duties. The holiday of Pinkster was one of the only times of year when enslaved and free Black families were reliably able to come together for a time of celebration. This holiday may have been the only time when Will, Brit—and later their children and grandchildren—were able to spend any real amount of time together as a family. Even this holiday would have been taken from them in 1811, when the city of Albany outlawed the celebration of Pinkster (a law finally repealed in 2011)
A view of the Dutch Church in Albany, as seen from Market Street, circa 1805. This is largely the view that Brit would have seen as she walked from the Ten Broeck house on Market Street to the church for the baptism of her children, Susannah and Herry, and the path Susannah herself may have taken years later for the baptism of her own children.
By James Eights, painted from the artist's memory circa 1850. Albany Institute of History and Art, 1954.59.79.
Despite all of this, Will and Brit created a family together, and strove to maintain those bonds over the years through the spiritual community of the church. On March 4, 1772, they celebrated the baptism of their daughter, Susannah, at the Dutch Church in Albany. Just two years later, on June 26, 1774, they celebrated the baptism of a second child, named Herry.
This is where the record falls silent on the lives of Will and Brit. It is unknown if they remained enslaved by the Schuylers and Ten Broecks, respectively, or if one of them was eventually sold away—their family separated even further. Neither of them are mentioned in later Schuyler or Ten Broeck manumissions, making it likely that they either died in bondage or were sold to another enslaver at some point after the birth of their two children.
While we may never know what happened to Will or Brit, their eldest daughter, Susannah, married a man named Thomas Willinger at the Dutch Church in Albany on April 18, 1797. She was twenty five years old at this time, and continued the family association with the Dutch Reformed congregation. It appears that Thomas passed away at some point shortly after this, but five years later, on August 14, 1802, Susannah was married again, this time to Peter Roseboom, also at the Dutch Church. Over the next four years, Susannah and Peter had three children: Dinah, Susan, and Mary. At this time, enlsaved status followed the condition of the mother. As Susannah was still enslaved by Abraham and Elizabeth Ten Broeck at the time, her daughters were as well. 
Shortly after Abraham Ten Broeck’s death, on April 13, 1810, Susannah and her daughters were manumitted by Elizabeth Ten Broeck. The terms of the manumission were strict—demanding that Suannah return once a week to do Elizabeth Ten Broeck’s laundry and ironing. She was also required to assist the family at “killing season".
On March 13, 1811, only eleven months after Susannah, Dinah, Susan, and Mary were manumitted, Peter was manumitted upon Eve Roseboom’s death. When Elizabeth Ten Broeck died in 1813, Susannah herself was truly free. In their new freedom, the couple had one more child, a daughter named Jane, born to them on May 31, 1815. While the family disappears from the historical record as of 1820, we know that Susannah could live in freedom with her husband and children. Although Brit and Will never got to experience that life for themselves, their love and determination built a resilient relationship and family in the face of slavery. Through their daughter and granddaughters, their love and strength survived.



Wednesday, October 3, 2018

My Dear Sister: Eliza and Caty Post-Schuyler Sisters Land Squabble

By Jessie Serfilippi

Eliza Schuyler Hamilton
by Henry Inman, 1825.
In our previous blog post about the Schuyler sisters’ land squabble, we ended with a question: what was Eliza and Caty’s relationship like after the land dispute? Eliza won, but did she lose her relationship with her little sister as a consequence of her victory? While we have yet to find letters from Caty to Eliza dated after the land dispute, there are a handful of letters, now digitized by the New York Public Library, from Eliza to Caty that we will examine in this post to determine the state of Eliza and Caty’s relationship in the years following their legal trials.

The first known letter after the land dispute is dated October 25, 1814. Eliza wrote it from her home, The Grange, in Harlem. The letter was later published in A Godchild of Washington, a biography written about Caty, and the Schuylers, by Caty’s granddaughter, Katherine Schuyler Baxter. The biography itself is dubious at best. Filled with many exaggerations, outright legends, and prone to romanticizing the eighteenth century, what is contained within its pages must be read critically. It is unlikely that an entire letter from Eliza to Caty would be fabricated, but the possibility must be kept in mind, especially given the somewhat odd questions Eliza asked of Caty in the letter.

The premise of the letter isn’t at all strange. Eliza wrote to Caty to tell her that she may soon “have a prospect soon of seeing my dear husband’s life in the press,” which thrilled Eliza. She informed Caty that the biographer was “very anxious to have domestic anecdotes; indeed anything illustrative of his character” and asked her younger sister to mail her any memories she may have of her late brother-in-law. While the request itself isn’t odd—Caty knew Hamilton for the first twenty three years of her life until his death in 1804 (Alexander Hamilton had married Elizabeth months before Caty was born)—what, specifically, Eliza requested Caty to recall is strange.

Eliza asked Caty to write of Hamilton’s

…appearance when first known—his manners—habits and peculiarities—instances of his benevolence—facts connected with his first appearance at the Bar—and most particularly, anecdotes even of the most trifling description—circumstances when he left the army—also when in Legislature at Albany in 1786.  Also Incidents in 1782 while studying law at Albany—style of conversation—and indeed everything which will illustrate the elasticity of his mind, variety of his knowledge, playfulness of his wit, excellence of his heart, firmness, forbearance, virtues, &c.

Most of the memories Eliza requested Caty to recall would not exist for Caty because she was too
Caty Schuyler at 15. Most of
the time she knew Hamilton
she was a child.
young at the time the events occurred. When Hamilton left the army, Caty was under a year old. In 1782, when Hamilton studied law at the Schuyler Mansion and soon after appeared at the Bar, Caty was nearing two years of age. When Hamilton was at the “Legislature at Albany,” Caty was five.

Maybe Eliza forgot the age difference of twenty-four years between her and her youngest sister, or maybe she asked Caty for recollections she herself might not have, but may have heard from other family members. As of seven months prior, with Angelica’s death, Caty was the only other Schuyler sister left alive.

Whatever Eliza’s motivation for writing to Caty, this letter shows that the sisters did have a relationship after the land dispute. Eliza appeared comfortable writing to Caty and asking her for this favor. Near the beginning of the letter she wrote:

I know the pleasure that you will take in granting my request, and beg you will on receiving this, make a memorandum of all your recollections of him.

Eliza not only thought Caty would grant the request, but that she would find pleasure in doing so. This letter holds none of the awkwardness that may be expected between the siblings following such a drawn-out legal battle, but later letters may indicate some reluctance to correspond on Caty’s part.
In the next surviving letter between the sisters, written by Eliza from her Harlem home on November 8, 1818, Eliza encouraged Caty to write to her more often. She wrote:

I wrote to you some time in June with the shoon [shoes] you requested it would give me pleasure to hear from you frequently has your plan of residence succeeded and are you as agreably [sic] situated as your expected.

From this opening line, we know that Eliza sent Caty shoes she asked for and that Eliza has some basic knowledge about something going on in Caty’s life. Whether Eliza obtained that knowledge directly from Caty in a prior letter or through their brother, Philip Jeremiah, and his wife, Mary Ann, with whom Caty was close, is unclear.

Caty and her daughter, Catharine.
During the year this letter was written, Caty lived in Utica, New York, and had been widowed one year earlier. She had at least three, possibly four, children, the youngest of whom was three years old and, based on Eliza’s letter, seemingly had to move into a more affordable living arrangement upon the death of her husband. In that same letter, Eliza later asked if Caty had any neighbors and who they were, making it more likely that the “plan of residence” she referred to was about Caty moving somewhere new.

Eliza spent the next few lines writing about her quest to find a biographer to write about her late husband. She said she’d been to “Mount Vernon to Bedford [likely Bedford, MA] and Long Island on the same subject.” The inclusion of this information makes it seem as if the sisters were not in the habit of keeping a regular correspondence with each other. These are trips that would have to made over the course of months at the very least, and likely not between the time Eliza sent the “shoons” to Caty in June and the writing of this letter in November. This indicates that while Eliza seemed to desire a closer relationship with her sister, they had been somewhat distant from each other over the past few months, if not years.

Eliza closed the letter with some news of their family, perhaps to remind Caty of the innate bond they shared. She told Caty that their brother, Philip Jeremiah, “has gone on with his Lady [second wife, Mary Ann Sawyer] she has grown very full the both look very well.” What Eliza meant when she said Mary Ann Sawyer had “grown very full” is unclear. Mary Ann may have been pregnant with a child who did not survive, or Eliza may have been commenting on her weight. Philip Jeremiah and Mary Ann may have been going to Washington DC, as he was in the middle of his term as a Representative from New York to Congress.

Eliza closed the letter by begging her younger sister to come stay with her in Harlem over the winter:

I wish you were to pass the winter with me you have not any thing to do but to take care of your little ones and that you can do quite as well with me and be giving me a great pleasure   tho living in the Country I can make it agreeable to you we have an excellent Clergyman near us let me intreat [sic] you to cum [sic] down,  I send a little booc [sic] with a few articles

This letter shows Eliza’s desire for a closer relationship with her younger sister. While it made what Eliza wanted obvious, what Caty wanted was still relatively mysterious. It’d be unfair to judge Caty’s lack of response in this particular situation as she was already dealing with much hardship and turmoil after the death of her husband. Her lack of response to Eliza is not to be unexpected. She simply may not have had to time to respond.

The next surviving letter from Eliza to Caty is much shorter, but provides more insight to the closeness—or lack thereof—they shared:

My dear Sister                                                                                                                                     Grange June 7th- 1820
                In a letter from you to my James [Eliza’s son] you mention your having been ill why did you not write to me  that I might have gone and taken care of you,   let me intreat [sic] you to cum [sic] and stay with me the change will be of service to you and bring your little boys with you, you know they will be know [sic] in convenience to me. but a great pleasure therefor let me pray you to cum [sic] to me immediately [sic]. Aiedu [sic] Ever affectionatly [sic] Yours Eliza begs to be remembered to you
                                Ever your Affcetionat [sic] Sister
                                                E. Hamilton

Eliza by Daniel Huntington,
mid-1800s.
It is now evident that Eliza is not as close to Caty as she wants to be. Caty wrote to Eliza’s son, James, of her illness instead of to her sister. Caty may have felt closer to James—they were, after all, nearer to each other in age than she and Eliza were. There were twenty-four years separating Eliza and Caty, compared to a mere seven between Caty and James. It is also possible that Caty simply did not want to correspond with Eliza. Maybe she knew Eliza would offer to go to her, or entreat her to come to Harlem (as she had in the past) and didn’t want to spend time with her sister.

This tension between them could stem from the land dispute, or from the unusual nature of their sisterhood. While they were sisters, Caty had lived with Eliza, Hamilton, and their children during her schooling. This could have led to a strange relationship in their older age in which Eliza saw her more as a child than a sister. It is possible that Caty resented this, and saw Eliza’s offers to help as more motherly than sisterly.

While it’s unclear if Caty ever took Eliza up on any of her offers to visit at The Grange, according to , Eliza visited Caty in Oswego in 1847. Eliza would have been on the verge of turning ninety at the time this journey was made. While it is certainly possible she made the journey—and her letters to Caty indicate that she desired such a visit—it is impossible to conclusively state that she went because, as of now, our only evidence of such a visit is in A Godchild of Washington.

What we do know is that the following year, Eliza sent Caty a worsted bag she knitted herself. She attached a note to it:

New Brunswick, N.J. Oct. 3d, 1848
My Beloved Sister,
                Accept a little work that I finished since I have entered upon my ninety-second year. I hope that you and your dear ones are well.     Remember me most affectionately to them all.
                                                                                                                You loving Sister,
                                                                                                                                Elizabeth Hamilton

Not long after this, in about 1850, Eliza’s daughter, Elizabeth Hamilton Holly, wrote a letter to Caty. She began her letter by apologizing for not writing her aunt in a while. In the middle of her explanation for her silence, she added a line about her mother appearing as she wrote:

Mama has just entered and inquiring my occupation is now at this moment mingling in memory her spirit with yours, with both feet placed on the hearth, looking just as she did when you left her—

It’s implied that Caty had visited Eliza in Washington, D.C., where she was living at the time, at some point, since Elizabeth says her mother appeared just as she did when Caty left her. This means that not only is it possible that Eliza visited Caty, but that Caty may have made the trek to visit Eliza, as well. Maybe the sisters grew closer in old age—Eliza was 93 and Caty was 69 in 1850—because they were the only surviving siblings by that point. Their brother, Philip Jeremiah, died in 1835, and their brother Rensselaer died in 1847. By 1850, they were the only ones left from their once large family.

But it’s what comes at the very end of the letter that is perhaps most interesting. On a separate piece of paper, after already signing her name, young Elizabeth wrote:

Mama has just gone to her room, her presence confused my pen, and inquiries still more bewildered the sense of my note—

She then told her aunt more personal family information that she didn’t feel able to write about in her mother’s presence. Elizabeth wrote about her older sister, Angelica, who’d had a breakdown at the age of seventeen in 1801, visiting her and their mother recently. She told Caty about one of Cornelia Schuyler’s daughters, Mary Regina, arriving in D.C., and wrote of how her wealth through her marriage to William Starr Miller gave her the money to enter into the “gaiety” of Washington society.

The fact that Elizabeth felt “bewildered” by her mother’s presence suggests that Eliza could be somewhat overbearing and controlling. In this case, she hijacked her daughter’s letter to her aunt. After all, the letter was originally signed:

Mamas love to all and mine with best wishes for present and future happiness


Eliza at the age of 94.
This could offer the best insight into the distance between Eliza and Caty. Eliza may have been too overbearing at times, and Caty wanted to forge her own path, free of her sister’s control. In light of this interpretation, it is possible that the land dispute was a symptom of a larger issue between the two sisters that dated back to Eliza seeing Caty more as one of her children than one of her sisters. Hopefully, Eliza and Caty were able to move past this in their old age. Maybe they even grew to enjoy each other’s presence—whether through letters or visits— and maybe took comfort in sharing the common memories they had of their parents, siblings, and spouses, who they’d outlived by so many years.




Thank you to Ian Mumpton and Susan Holloway Scott for the insightful conversations about the nature of Eliza and Caty's relationship throughout their lives.

Saturday, July 21, 2018

Schuyler Siblings Land Squabble

By Jessie Serfilippi

Eliza Schuyler Hamilton in 1787.
The early 1800s were a trying time for Eliza Schuyler Hamilton. In 1801, Eliza’s sister, Peggy, died of what was likely stomach cancer, and her eldest son, Philip, was killed in a duel at the age of nineteen. In 1802, her nephew, Alexander Church, died at the age of ten, while in 1803, her mother died of a stroke. In July of 1804, her husband, Alexander Hamilton, died from the wound he received dueling Aaron Burr. Just four months later, in November of that year, her father, Philip Schuyler, died at his home in Albany. While the sheer number of losses she faced in the span of just four years was painful enough in and of itself, Eliza also faced massive debt, seven children to raise, and some unsupportive, selfish younger sisters—Cornelia Schuyler Morton and Caty Schuyler Malcolm.

Within a month of their father’s death, the Schuyler siblings were already fighting over money and land. Not long after interring their father in the Ten Broeck vault, Cornelia and Caty accused Eliza of accepting extra money from Schuyler in the months following Hamilton’s death. Eliza was greatly offended that her siblings even thought she might do so, and vehemently denied ever accepting money from him. As if that wasn’t enough, Cornelia and Caty then tried to take land that was rightfully Eliza’s. Overall, this battle between the sisters began in 1804, and did not end until 1810, even after Cornelia and her husband, Washington Morton, died in 1808 and 1810 respectively.

The first look we get at the effects of the fighting between Eliza and her younger sisters is in late

December of 1804. On December 28, 1804, Thomas Copper sent a letter to Stephen Van Rensselaer III, one of the wealthiest men in the United States and Peggy Schuyler’s husband before her death in 1801. Stephen was one of three executors Philip Schuyler named in his will. In his letter, Cooper updated Stephen on the public opinion in New York City of Schuyler’s will and the resulting chaos from the accusations being thrown at Eliza. It’s unclear when these accusations are first made, but it seems to be within a month or less of Philip Schuyler’s death. Cooper wrote:

“I find the Current of Public Opinion here pretty strong against the executors of genl Schuyler for making any question about the deed to Mrs. Hamilton___ Her friends have advised her I am told to take no legal opinions on the subject but to demand the Deed and take posesion [sic] of the property”

Apparently, it was known in New York, where both Eliza and Cornelia lived, that there was a dispute over lands Eliza claimed to be hers. It seems as if, following the tragic death of Eliza’s husband, other New Yorkers were shocked that her better-situated siblings were attempting to take that land from her and that the executors of Schuyler’s will were not interceding on her behalf.

As Cooper recorded in the letter, consensus had it that the land was rightfully Eliza’s and that the executors should send her the deed, which was apparently executed to her, but not in her possession at the time Schuyler died. It was the fact that Eliza did not physically possess the deed that was giving her so much trouble.

Even if a deed is executed and signed to the intended grantee (Eliza, in this case), the physical delivery from grantor (Philip Schuyler) to grantee is necessary for the legal completion of the process because it denotes the willful transfer of the deed.  While Schuyler had executed and signed the deed, it hadn’t been delivered to Eliza because she’d left for Manhattan before the deed was ready to be delivered. Without it being in her possession, Cornelia and Caty were technically within their legal rights to dispute Eliza’s claim to the land, despite every sign that their father had intended it go to Eliza.

Cornelia Schuyler Morton in 1807.
While Cornelia and Caty seemed to believe that they had a chance at getting the land because the deed had not been properly delivered, lawyers familiar with the dispute at the time Cooper wrote his letter to Stephen Van Rensselaer disagreed:

“the Lawyers here I am told are generally of the opinion […] myself though I have not carefully examined the Question___ at any Rate she is entitled to the Deed good or bad­__ If possessing it will not give it validity_ I think therefore the Executors ought to send it to her”

The consensus among the lawyers Cooper knew was that Eliza was entitled to the deed. He even said that he believed the executors—which included Stephen—should send her the deed so the delivery process could be complete.

Not long after this letter was written, on January 10, 1805, Eliza herself wrote a letter to her younger brother, Philip Jeremiah, also an executor to his father’s will, in which she lamented the division within their family and laid the blame for the infighting at the feet of her two younger brothers-in-law, Washington Morton and Samuel Malcolm:  

“This is our family situated, differences have arisen, and neither can recollect how much it is encumbent [sic] on them to be at peace […] as to myself I am satisfied you can arrange for me, but you see how we are here the two younger brother in laws will not meet…”  

From this letter, it becomes evident that it was Washington Morton and Samuel Malcolm, neither of whom were executors of Schuyler’s will, who were causing issues during the settlement of the will.
Eliza turned to Philip Jeremiah for a reason: as an executor of the will, he could convince the other two executors, Stephen Van Rensselaer III and John Barker Church, Angelica’s husband, to settle the dispute. From what records survive of this tumultuous time, it seems as if the executors either could not or did not act. Why they failed to or were prevented from acting on Eliza’s behalf is unclear.

The dispute continued and, at some point between 1805 and 1807, went to court for the first time. Records of this first case are currently not known to survive, but they are mentioned in the later court case Eliza started. From what is described in the later proceedings, it seems as if Cornelia and Washington Morton went to court in 1807 to take the land from Eliza. The ruling on that case was not in the Mortons’ favor. On December 14, 1807, a judge overruled the Mortons’ claim and decreed that they must pay taxes, which probably meant they had to cover any legal fees. Even though the judge who presided over this case did not believe there was enough evidence to strip Eliza of her right to the land, it was also not the last time the siblings would go to court.

On May 19, 1810, Eliza brought her own case to court in order to prove that she had proper rights to the land. Even though the deed was executed to her, her siblings believed it rightfully fell under the “fee simple” section of Schuyler’s will, which gave them the option of claiming it as theirs as part of the “equal part eighth” that each child (or grandchild in place of a deceased child) was granted, as described in the will:

“…all the rest, residue and remainder of my real estate, whether in possession, remainder or reversion, or wheresoever situate, I devise and bequeath unto my dearly beloved Grandson Philip Schuyler, my dearly beloved son Philip Jeremiah Schuyler, my dearly beloved son Rensselaer Schuyler, and my dearly beloved grandson Stephen Van Rensselaer, and my dearly beloved Daughters, Angelica, Elizabeth, Cornelia and Catherine, to them their respective heirs, executors, administrators and assigns, as tenants in common in fee simple, and I do hereby authorize and empower my executors to make or cause to be made partition thereof between my said children, and grand children in such manner that each may become entitled to one equal eight part of the value as nearly as may be.”

As “tenants in common,” each person named in the will would receive an equal share of the land. The land Philip Schuyler willed to Eliza would normally have been included under the land the children would split “one equal eight part.” From the court proceedings, it’s clear that Eliza’s lawyer, Nathaniel Pendleton, explained how Eliza had come into possession of the land. He stated that Philip Schuyler

“did, by Indenture of bargain & sale bearing date the Fourteenth day of August in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred & four duly convey to the Compliant [Eliza] a certain price or parcel of land part of the farm whereon he then lived, described in fee simple, that the said Philip Schuyler the elder had previously made his will devising his estate generally among his children as Tennants [sic] in Common that the said Cornelia Morton and Catharine Malcom, were two of the children and devisors of the said Philip Schuyler deceased, and had set up a claim to the said land, in the said and mentioned under a pretence [sic] that the said deed had never been duly delivered to the Compliant”

The land referred to here is likely land to the front of the Schuyler Mansion, which sat on about 80 acres of farm land at the time Schuyler promised certain parcels of it to Eliza. Cornelia and Caty had “set up a claim to said land” and said the deed to the land in question had “never been duly delivered” to Eliza. That much, at least, is true. The proceedings go on to describe what happened with the deed:

“the said deed was duly executed & delivered & found among the papers of the said Philip Schuyler after his death, and was then put into the Complaint’s [Eliza’s] possession and she took possession of the lands there in mentioned”

What Eliza wanted from the suit was to claim the land by “perpetual injunction,” or a court order prohibiting her siblings’ claims. The claims her siblings had made to the land were preventing her from being able to dispose of it as she wished. Eliza wanted to sell the property, and it was because of the multiple claims to the land that no buyers would purchase it.

Image result for catherine schuyler malcolm
Caty Schuyler Malcolm as a mother.
While the case Eliza filed directly involved the Mortons and Malcolms, Stephen Van Rensselaer IV, Peggy’s son, and Philip Schuyler, John Bradstreet Schuyler’s son, were mentioned as well. This was likely to prevent them from ever laying claim to the land, but the suit itself was not brought against them. Neither the Malcolms nor Mortons appeared in court that day. In fact, the Malcolms had failed to respond to the “Complaint’s bill,” and, as of July 3, 1809, were “Ordered to be taken pro confesso as against them on the hearing of the said cause.” In other words, because they failed to appear in court, the court considered the matter confessed to by the absent party.

The Mortons failed to appear as well, but they had a good excuse: they were both dead. So instead of the case being brought against them, it was brought against their “Infant children.” Those children—Catharine Van Rensselaer Morton, Alexander Hamilton Morton, Philip Schuyler Morton, Cornelia Lynch Morton, and Mary Regina Morton—were between the ages of twelve and two at the time. Their legal guardian— Thomas Smith, a clerk in Chancery­­­­­­—answered the suit for them. Their guardian did not seem to challenge Eliza’s claim to the land.

During the proceedings, it became clear that the land was rightfully Eliza’s. Samuel Stringer, who had been Schuyler’s physician for many years and had attended him in his final months, testified in court that he had witnessed Schuyler execute the deed in question on August 14th, 1804. Stringer said:

“…he [Stringer] knew the said Philip Schuyler in his lifetime and saw him sign, seal, and deliver, the said deed as his voluntary act for the purposes therein mentioned & that Philip Schuyler gave him the said deed & requested him to subscribe his name as a witness to the execution thereof”

With his testimony, the court decreed that “the land tenements, & hereditaments therein mentioned & described, did thereby pass to and became vested in the Complainant and her heirs in fee simple.”
Not only did the court rule in favor of Eliza, they also declared that if any of the Malcolms or Mortons attempted to take or claim the land, they would be fined $20,000. With that, the deed was officially “conveyed to the said Elizabeth Hamilton the Complainant,” and Caty and Samuel Malcolm had to “Pay the Complainant her Costs of this suit.”

As for the Morton children? They had until “six months after he or she shall have attained his or her age of Twenty one years, to show cause if any he or she hath against this decree.” There is no record that any of the children challenged it upon coming of age.

After five years of fighting, Eliza finally had the land that had been rightfully hers to begin with. By 1811, Eliza seemed to have sold the land to Benjamin Lattimore, who used it to found the “Albany School for Educating People of Color.”

In the end, Eliza may have won the land, but what did the court case do to her relationships with her siblings—especially Caty, who not only lost the suit, but had to cover Eliza’s legal fees? Look out for more on Eliza and Caty’s relationship after the court case in an upcoming blog post.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Ran Away on the 28th Ultimo: Freedom Seekers and Self Manumission at Schuyler Mansion


By Ian Mumpton

On March 4th, 1797, two years before the Gradual Manumission Act of New York was passed, Philip Schuyler sent a letter to Mr. Samuel Jones esqr. offering his critique of a bill Jones had submitted to him on the topic of abolition:
                Dr Sir
                …Inclose [sic] your draft of the bill for Abolishing Slavery – and if you think proper you may either add the Inclosed [sic] properly corrected by you, or to offer it as a Substitute, I believe it would be more Agreable [sic] to the owners of slaves. That It should be a substitute for the whole bill.
                I am Dr Sir
                                Sincerely your &c
                                                                Ph. Schuyler

A life-long slaveholder who had just left the NY senate to resume his seat in the US senate, Philip Schuyler had little interest in abolition outside of the political capital to be gained as more and more politicians embraced the idea (in theory if not in their daily lives). Schuyler’s concern was to ensure that the slaveholding families of the state be as little discomfited as possible by the process. Even at the time of his death in November of 1804, at least seven people, including three children, still labored in slavery at his estate in Albany. 

While these individuals were freed shortly after his death, this was entirely at the discretion of the executors of the estate, as no provision was made for their manumission in Philip’s will. As of December 18th, 1804, the last people to be enslaved at the Schuylers mansion in Albany were free or had been transferred to the estates of other family members, possibly including that of the youngest son of the Schuyler family, Rensselaer.

But not everyone enslaved in the Schuyler household had waited this long. At least three, possibly four, men, and one woman had already sought to escape the bonds of slavery and reclaim their freedom elsewhere.

The first of these self-manumitters was a man named Haare, who fled slavery in 1768. At the time of his escape, Haare was somewhere in his early 30’s, a young man still, but with many years of hard labor under his belt. Philip Schuyler placed a “runaway” advertisement in the New York Journal that offers a description of this individual. According to Schuyler, Haare was “short, [with] broad shoulders, large staring eyes, remarkable small legs, large feet, and walks something lame, having had his toes frozen...” Philip also specified that Haare spoke both English and “Low Dutch”.

Harre's 1768 Runaway Ad
While some of these descriptors, e.g. “large staring eyes”, are thought to have relied on exaggerated racial features aimed at a primarily white audience, others give us a detailed depiction of this young man and hint at the sort of work he performed for the Schuylers. For example, he walked “something lame” due to having had his toes frozen. We know from other records that Philip sent enslaved men out in frigid conditions to cut firewood. Perhaps it was a similar incident that gave Haare his notable gait. Unfortunately, we do not know what ultimately happened to Haare, and there is no indication as to whether or not he was able to avoid recapture.

After Haare, every other documented escape attempt by people enslaved by the Schuylers took place during the turbulent times of the American Revolution. The next person to attempt escape from the Schuylers' estate was a woman named Diana. No runaway ad is known to exist for Diana, depriving us of the sorts of physical description available for Haare. All that we have to document her escape is a letter detailing its unfortunate conclusion. As John Lansing reported to Philip Schuyler on February 3rd, 1779:
John Lansing Jr., who assisted Philip
Schuyler in recapturing Diana in 1779
                Diana was last night brought to Town[.] From every Circumstance attending her Apprehension it is probable that she has been harboured for a considerable time by a Scotchman, who lives in the neighborhood of Mr. Amory’s farm. I have directed her to be committed to goal [jail] to prevent another Elopement, and shall keep her there until I receive your Directions respecting her.
The difficulties attending any effort to escape the bonds of slavery are evident here. Despite finding refuge with someone willing to aid her in her attempt, Diana was recaptured and imprisoned. No letter survives regarding Philip’s directions, but it is likely that Diana was sold. While physical punishment was not uncommon at the time, neither Philip nor Lansing reported whether this was the case for Diana. All that is certain is that this is the last known reference to Diana in Schuyler’s papers.

On November 4th, 1782, Philip Schuyler ran another runaway ad, this time for a man named Claas:

                                        TEN DOLLARS REWARD 
Ran away on the 28th ultimo, from the Subscriber, a MOLATTO, named Nicholas (commonly called Claas); he is about five feet eight or ten inches high, slender made, large eyes, much given to liquor: he had on when he went off, a whitish stuff coat, striped linen waistcoat, linen breeches, blue yarn stockings, tow cloth shirt, and large silver buckles on his shoes. Whoever apprehends said Runaway, and commits him to any Goal [jail] in this State, shall be paid TEN DOLLARS in Specie, and all reasonable charges by                                                PH SCHUYLER
 This description gives us little idea of what sort of work Claas had performed prior to his escape. What is of particular interest here, however, is the detail with which Philip describes his clothing. As the 18th century had a thriving second-hand clothing industry, Claas would likely want, and have the opportunity, to change his clothing soon after his escape, both to alter his appearance and to fund his travels. For someone who owned no property of any kind, the clothes on his back, and especially the silver buckles on his shoes, represented his entire financial means for aiding his escape. By detailing Claas’s attire at the time of his flight to freedom, Philip both made sure that Claas was recognizable, and that he was less able to sell the clothes he had.

Sir Henry Clinton, who issued the Philipsburg Proclamation
Claas was taking a huge risk in his attempt. On November 7th of 1775, in an effort to weaken the revolutionaries’ resources, the British governor of Virginia, Lord Dunmore, had issued a proclamation offering freedom to any enslaved person claimed as property by the revolutionaries, who made their escape behind British lines. This was reinforced in 1779, when Sir Henry Clinton passed the Philipsburg proclamation, promising freedom for anyone enslaved by the revolutionaries. Despite the opportunity for freedom, however, the Revolutionary governments of the colonies did not intend to simply allow their slaves to join the enemy.


The British proclamations were met with outrage throughout the colonies. In 1775, a law* was passed in Albany, that any enslaved man found more than a mile from home without his master’s permission could be shot on sight. This was in reaction to the fear that slaves would use the disruptions created by the war to attempt to escape or coordinate some sort of resistance to the slave-holding class. While Claas made his escape attempt later in the war, he ran the same risks. It is likely that he sought to escape to the British, but, to this day, it is unknown if he was successful.

While Claas’s intention of joining the British can only be guessed at, the remaining two individuals did in fact join the British during the war, and traveled to Nova Scotia as free men after the end of hostilities. At the end of the war, approximately 3,000 freed slaves who had served with the British were transported to Nova Scotia where they became known as the Black Loyalists. Their names and many personal details were listed in a British document known as “The Book of Negroes”. Amongst these three thousand were two men, Scipio Scuyler, and Adam Way, both of whom have connections to the Schuyler family.

Scipio Scuyler listed himself as having escaped from enslavement by a man referred to as “Philip Schuyler of Albany” in 1779. Scipio gave his own birth year as 1752, meaning that he was in his early thirties when he joined the British. Scipio was described as being of stout build when he sailed aboard the Prosperous Amelia for Port Roseway in 1783. There were several Philip Schuylers living in Albany in 1779, meaning that the Philip Schuyler referred to may be our Philip Schuyler, or one of his cousins. For Adam Way, however, the evidence is much more concrete.

Adam Way was described as being at least 80 years old and “worn out” when he sailed for Annapolis and St. Johns aboard the Clinton in 1783. He reported his former owner as “General Broadstreet” of Albany. This is believed to be a mistranscription of General John Bradstreet. Bradstreet was not only a close friend of Philip Schuyler, serving as Philip’s commanding officer and mentor, but he helped supervise the construction of the Schuylers’ home and lived with them for many years prior to his death in 1774. Adam Way is believed to be the same Adam listed in a December 16th, 1771 “Account of Shoes” in the Schuyler Household, where his shoes were repaired for two shillings and six pence. It is not clear whether he was enslaved by the Schuylers after Bradstreet’s death, or if he was passed through other hands prior to his escape, but, at long last, a man born into slavery in 1703, who had likely labored for multiple families over the course of his life, was free.

As Professor A. J. Willaims-Meyers, of SUNY New Paltz, writes in the foreword to In Defiance:Runaways from Slavery in New York’s Hudson River Valley, 1735-1831:
The vast number of runaway slave notices during this period[…] speaks to the magnitude of the struggle for freedom being fought by an oppressed and enslaved people. The dangers of running and the consequences if caught were dire and had to have struck abject fear into the hearts of those contemplating such a feat. Yet, for many, the opportunity to live as a human being, out of bondage, able to breath the air in freedom, was worth the dangers. It was a courageous choice.
For many, there was no choice. Of the approximately thirty people enslaved at the Schuylers’ home in Albany, roughly half were women, but only one woman, Diana, was able to run the risks of escaping. It is important to note here that women were much more likely to be enslaved with their children in the Schuyler household, making it much more difficult to escape. Philip always purchased men separately from other family members, which meant that they only had to coordinate their own escape. It is possible that this separation from other family may have even encouraged men to leave at a higher rate than women, as they sought to reunite with families they had been separated from.

Nevertheless, despite the difficulties and dangers, between 13.33 and 16.67% of the enslaved population at the Schuylers’ estate over the years did make the choice to leave in search of the freedom owed them as human beings. While not all, perhaps not even most, succeeded, it is important to remember the efforts and courage of these self-manumitters when telling the story of slavery at this site.

If you are interested in learning more about the enslaved population of New York, check out our other articles in this series by clicking on "The Servants" above. Another great resource, used in the writing of this article, is the New York Slavery Record Index, which you can search by clicking here.


*See Page 301