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.

Part I: Cornelia Lynch Schuyler: A Beauty Matched with Wit

by Sarah Lindecke

Cornelia Lynch Schuyler Morton painted by Gilbert Stuart in
1807 as part of a portrait set with her husband Washington Morton.
The set was a gift to the couple from Cornelia’s brother Philip Jeremiah
and his wife Mary Anna in return for the portrait set they’d received. 

In this three-part-blog-series, we’ll chronicle the life and circumstances of Cornelia Lynch Schuyler Morton (1775-1808), one of the five Schuyler sisters, from her early life to her scandalous elopement with George Washington Morton (1776-1810), and to her unfortunate death at just thirty-three years of age. In this first installment, we’ll explore Cornelia’s childhood and teenage years. 

Cornelia Lynch Schuyler Morton (1775-1808) was born December 22nd, 1775, to Philip John Schuyler (1733-1804) and Catherine van Rensselaer Schuyler (1734-1803). She was the thirteenth of the fifteen children the Schuyler couple had together. Her birth came at an auspicious time for her family. Earlier that year, her father, Philip Schuyler, was made a Major General in the Continental Army, bringing him expanded power and prominence. 

Cornelia was very young when the American Revolutionary War was waged, and the tumult of the times may help explain why records of her childhood are few and far between. In 1783, when she was eight years old, the American Revolutionary War officially ended, and the wider world opened to Cornelia as she started her schooling. A Schuyler receipt from September 26th, 1783, set payment for the education of three children until February for a total of fifteen pounds, four pence at the Academy at Albany, a precursor to the present Albany Academy. The other two children receiving an education alongside Cornelia, per the receipt, were Cornelia’s older brothers Philip Jeremiah (1768-1835) and Rensselaer (1773-1847), who were fifteen and ten years old respectively. At the Academy she and her brothers would have learned the regular subjects of school at this time such as history, reading, writing, economics, and some basic sciences. Her brothers would have received the subjects of animal husbandry and navigation, subjects that were not perceived as useful for the young girls to learn. 

Alongside these common subjects, as a young girl, Cornelia would also have studied the “feminine arts,” such as needlework, painting, drawing, dancing, music, etc. Though records of Cornelia receiving these sorts of tutoring do not exist, she evidently practiced drawing as a letter her father wrote on June 20th, 1790, suggests he was frustrated that drawings she made did not get delivered to her mother. Cornelia’s years of education would prepare her for life as a “gentleman’s daughter.” Her father styled himself as such and thus expected that his children would present themselves as well-educated persons in all the right and honorable subjects. (If you are interested to hear more about education of the Schuyler children, look to "I shall most cheerfully pay": The Education of Caty Schuyler). 

Cornelia’s education was a backdrop for the creation of a well-formed young woman, but what was she like outside her studies? As a young person, Cornelia was described as a great beauty. Alexander Coventry, a visitor to the Schuyler’s between September 17th, 1785, and October 19th of the same year, is the first to describe Cornelia’s appearance in his personal diaries, he wrote that one of the Schuyler daughters held “the appearance of a future beauty.” Later on in his visit, he wrote of a young lady about ten years of age who was “so elegantly dressed, and had a fine person: fair hair and black eyes.” Most of the people who met Cornelia described her in a similar fashion. Even her later portrait shows she had fair features and light hair starkly contrasted with dark "almost black” eyes. 

Stephen van Rensselaer III painted by Gilbert Stuart. 

Cornelia has often been characterized as “the pretty sister,” which would not be a false statement, but this one-dimensional characterization eclipses the rather playful and sparky personality she appears to have had from the letters she wrote. Most of Cornelia’s surviving correspondence are letters written to Stephen van Rensselaer (1764-1839), the husband of her older sister Margarita “Peggy” Schuyler van Rensselaer (1758-1801). Cornelia is rather tongue-in-cheek in her January 12th, 1795, letter to Stephen, when she called herself his “saucy sister” after she was left behind in Albany when the van Rensselaer’s changed residences. The van Rensselaer’s were moving their residence to New York City at this time in the event that Stephen van Rensselaer became the Lieutenant Governor of New York. Seemingly, with Cornelia’s youthful impatience, as she was twenty years old at the time, when the letter went unanswered by her brother-in-law, as she wrote again to him later that month on January 31st, 1795, asserting that: 

I feared the amusements of New York that seat of fashion that repository of frolic and fun in short of all that’s delicious, would drive from your mind (as it has from your wife’s) the friend and Sister whom you could remember in a less agreeable place…perhaps business or the delightful idea of soon being lieutenant governor, had deprived me of the pleasure of hearing from you, if so I beg pardon, and promise never to write or offend again…indeed it would be hazarding to much the loss of your good opinion which I should sincerely regret and which by silence I may still retain… 

In this first part of her letter, Cornelia wrote whimsically about New York City. She seemingly thought it was a place of wonder, excitement, and opportunity, all of which she likely had witnessed first-hand during her young adult years when she lived in New York City with her sister, Eliza, while being tutored. However, Cornelia was also frustrated in this letter as she did not get a response from her brother-in-law in a timely manner. Her threat to Stephen was to never contact him again, as evidently it would “offend” him if she continued writing to him. Yet her diatribe at Stephen did not conclude there. She continued her letter, writing: 

Upon my word Brother as you grow old you grow ill natured, and I shall be free to tell you I hate you for not acqua(i)nting me how all the beaus in N York are, and what handsom [sic] things they say of me…should you chance to see my sweet heart, Jones pray tell him I am well, and think myself twenty time handsomer then ever the men tell me… 

Cornelia’s consummate wit shines through here. She playfully bore down on Stephan van Rensselaer for his failure to reply as a tender reckoning of his old age and poor temperament. What is even more interesting from this second part of the letter, however, is Cornelia’s reference to her “sweetheart, Jones.” It appears from this addition to her letter that Cornelia’s first encounters with romance were not with her husband, George Washington Morton (1776-1810), but rather with others she met during her young adult years. The identity of this “Jones” is unknown, but evidently Cornelia felt fondly for the man, whether in a serious or playful manner. From this section of her letter, we can read some bit of vanity or desire to be seen as beautiful, but also in Cornelia’s tone we can read a proclamation that she is indeed desirable. She is confident of her beauty, but also that her wit is on par or exceeding those in her set. 

Cornelia’s life would heat up significantly in the later years of the 1790s as she, like two previous siblings, chose a non-traditional route to marriage: elopement. Her methods of marriage are almost as interesting as the man she chooses to marry, George Washington Morton. The next installment in the blog series will take a look at Cornelia’s interesting choice in a husband as well as the ways she broke tradition, for better or for worse.

Sources

Letter written by Philip Schuyler (1733-1084) to Eliza Hamilton on June 20^th, 1790 in New York City from the NYPL Schuyler Papers (not available digitally).

Excerpts from the Journal of Alexander Coventry (1783-1831) from the September 23^rd  and October 19^th, 1785.

Letter from Cornelia Lynch Schuyler to Stephen Van Rensselaer, Albany January 12^th, 1795, from the Van Rensselaer Manor Papers in the NYS Archives.

Letter from Cornelia Lynch Schuyler to Stephen Van Rensselaer, Albany January 31^st, 1795, from the Van Rensselaer Manor Papers in the NYS Archives. 

The Story of Adelaide and Alice

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

by Jessie Serfilippi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

April Fool Me Once? Shame On You!

 The April Fools’ Day article is a fond tradition here at Schuyler Mansion, with topics ranging from non-factual but plausible tales of Philip Schuyler as a composer or Rensselaer Schuyler’s fancy mask store, to outrageous claims that Philip Schuyler fought armored dinosaurs in a wickerwork battle-mech. Each one was a bit of harmless fun had at the expense of historical solemnity… or so we thought. It turns out, however, that every one of these posts has been in direct violation of a longstanding Albany city ordinance specifically prohibiting the celebration of April Fools’ Day!

Yes, you read that right- April Fools’ Day is illegal in the city of Albany, and it has been since 1745. Specifically, “It shall be unlawful for any person residing within the city of Albany to willfully engage in any prank, jape, sporting deceit, or aggravated punning on or about the 1^st day of April, commonly named April Fooles [sic].”

While it might sound strange that a law made before our nation even officially existed still holds authority in 2024, New York State’s 1777 constitution, “determined that the common law of England would be the law of New York State unless altered by the legislature.” [1] Careful review by the site’s legal counsel, Odrin DeCorte , has determined that, as this specific ordinance was never repealed by the NYS legislature or the City of Albany, it is still in effect. As a result, there will be no more April Fools’ Day posts from Schuyler Mansion.

“I will be sad to see the April Fools’ posts go,” said Ian Mumpton, Historic Site Assistant at the museum. “Our goal has been to bring some humor to our work while highlighting the importance of reading historical anecdotes with a critical eye. But until the city amends this ordinance, we will abide by the law. No more bacon-wrapped eels on the barbeque; no more wily groundhogs.”^[2] 

But why did our forefathers decide to ban April Fools’ Day? After all, pranks were already a longstanding tradition in the Dutch New Netherlands colony of the 17th century. ^[3]  Alas, while the Dutch-descended colonists of the Albany area may not have been quite so dour as their New England neighbors, litigation over minor issues was an equally longstanding (if not even more ancient) tradition, with colonists seeking legal and judicial redress for everything from property lines to slander over vaguely familiar pork.[4]  Research by site staff indicates that the impetus for this prohibition came from a prank so disruptive and alarming that the leading citizenry saw no other recourse but to prohibit the holiday altogether.

Abraham Ten Broeck by Thomas McIlworth; 1763

Ironically, the persons responsible for this prank was none other than our very own Philip Schuyler, then age twelve, and his lifelong friend, Abraham Ten Broeck, then age eleven. 

It is difficult to say exactly what happened on April 1st, 1745. The first reference to the situation comes from the minutes of the Court of Albany two days after the event took place. For all its ambiguity it is a fascinating document, worthy to be quoted in full:

3 April, 1745, Albany

The council having been fully aprised [sic] of the aforementioned[5] reckless, deceptive, and dangerous Acts perpetrated by the defendants -- Ph. Schuyler and Abraham Ten Broeck, young men of this Place -- on the First of April or Fooles Day –

Firstly, the aforesaid young men to make Publick  [sic] apology and their families to financially renumerate the merchants so afflicted in accordance with all documentable damages.

Secondly their families also to make payment to divers [sic] other Residents of the city of Albany and its environs for the distress caused to the inhabitants, travelers, poultry, and especialy to Dr. Honeydau and Mr. Bieker—the amounts in question to be determined by this court upon review of sworn affidavits from the afflicted. Addendum- As Mr. Bieker is no longer able to speak, he shall give affidavit by making his mark to Dr. Honeydau’s affidavit.

Thirdly, that The Widow Schuyler and Dirk Ten Broeck, parents of the aforesaid yout[h]s do swear before the court to instill in these young men a greater sense of Decorum and Pious humility, that they might be turned back from the insipient and wasteful paths upon which they currently have laid their lives [sic] courses.

Fourthly, the city council, seeing the Full and Undesirable Impact of the Holyday [sic] such as folk call it, to pass an act forbidding all Puns, Japes, Deceits, or other Prankings on the First day of April, which practices cannot be tolerated in a place where Justice prevails. The wording to be determined and passed without delay.

Present:

David Goltz                       Richard Hunter                Franklin Ouss

James Hanson                  Jeremy Nielson                 Gerald Jewel

Madame de la Tour du Pin Gouvernet

While we may never know the details of what these two young men got up to that caused such an extreme reaction from their community, we do know that Schuyler and Ten Broeck never seem to have forgotten the adventure. In her memoirs, French aristocrat and friend of the Schuylers, Madame de la Tour du Pin[MI(4] , describes an interaction at the dining table with Philip Schuyler and Abraham Ten Broeck:

We dined that night with General Schuyler and his charming family, and well as his dear friend General Ten Broeck, with whom General Schuyler had been acquainted from the cradle, and in whose company the staid gentleman had passed the wild days of youth. We also had the pleasure of the company of Captain l’Ours-Poilu and Mademoiselle Cochon, both just arrived from France. At the table, the young lady, being of that age at which impertinence and curiosity join as allies, made enquiry about a certain misadventure she had heard referred to by a gentleman of the town, involving the two Generals in their youth. Where others might have taken displeasure at the question, General Schuyler laughed and called it an excess of youthful mischief, partaken in freely and just as freely left behind. General Ten Broeck, however, indicated that he was glad to have had the lesson of it at such a young age, to be less inclined to follow directives given solely on grounds of seniority.

 

With this in mind, we at Schuyler Mansion would like to offer mellow greetings on this first day of April. May your day be filled with beige sincerity, uninspired credibility, and a complete lack of the outrageous.

---

[1] Liebman, B. (2020). The Common Law Powers of the New York State Attorney General. Legislation and Public Policy, 23:95, 95-158. Retrieved from https://nyujlpp.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/JLPP-23.1-Liebman-Final.pdf

[2] Mumpton, I. (2024). April Fool Me Once? Shame On You!. NYS-OPRHP. Albany NY: Schuyler Mansion State Historic Site.

[3] Minutes of the Court of Albany, Rensselaerswyck, and Schenectady, 1675-1680, vol II, 288-290. https://www.newnetherlandinstitute.org/application/files/1916/8372/5026/Court_Minutes_of_Albany_Rennselaerswyck_and_Schenectady_1675-1680_Vol_II.pdf.pdf

[4] Council Minutes, 1638-1649, trans. Arnold J. F. Van Laer, vol IV, 311. https://www.newnetherlandinstitute.org/application/files/8716/8369/4976/Volume_IV_-_Council_Minutes_1638-1649.pdf

[5] Presumed to be a reference to a missing page covering the dates of April 1^st and 2^nd.

Twenty Large Pitch Pine Logs: Enslaved People at the Schuyler Saratoga Property and Their Spaces of Socialization

This blog was written by Sarah Lindecke, a Fall 2023 intern at Schuyler Mansion State Historic Site from Siena College ‘s History and Public History program. The letter examined in this blog had been one of interest for various other Schuyler Mansion staff members but was taken up for examination by the intern. Connecting winter labor to the enslaved men mentioned in the letter brings a great opportunity to examine the lives and social spaces of the enslaved during the colder parts of the year.  

 

Twenty Large Pitch Pine Logs: Enslaved People at the Schuyler Saratoga Property and Their Spaces of Socialization 

 

As winter continues here in the Northeast, we can look back on how 18^th century labor changed with the colder weather. This is particularly interesting in the case of the people enslaved by the Schuyler family. The labor of these individuals was not self-directed, but dictated by their enslaver first and the weather second. Historians often forget to consider the impact of these isolating trips, or the weather encountered while laboring. Weather was a factor in the everyday life of the enslaved, determining much about the character of their labor. There are multiple letters in the Schuyler papers that provide evidence of this, but one of the strongest examples comes from a letter written by Philip Lansing to Philip Schuyler on December 27th, 1771. The late December letter covers the logging done during the winter months up at Saratoga. Logging was commonly done in the cold weather as it was impossible to farm during the long winter months. Instead of farming, winter labor would turn to focus on the process of felling logs out in the countryside, then using sleds to transport them to local mills for processing. Having a sufficient supply of wood was crucial during the cold winter months because wood was the main fuel for heating and cooking. Without access to ample supplies of wood, people risked freezing or suffering other ills of the cold.  

 

In the December 27^th letter, Lansing described this winter labor: 

 

“The horse sleds have drawn thirty-four pieces of pitch pine timber since you Left this Lisbon, Dick, & Bob have cut them, they have Also cut twenty large pitch pine logs... I am this Day going with three Horse sleds to the Mill at Batskill [Battenkill] to Ride Logs there, Henry Mynerd And the rest of the tenants are to bring up the Hay this Day_the ice has broke the upper flid Gates of the Mill Race but has done no Damage to the Race Neither Grist Mill nor Saw Mill...”  

 

This letter conjures an image of a cold and remote place where men, free and enslaved, worked together at felling hearty pitch pine trees, then preparing them for transport. This excerpt lays out the process—from felling trees to sending them to the mill. First, the trees would be cut and pulled to the ground where they could be limbed and potentially cut or split into smaller sections as needed, then loaded onto the sleds. Perhaps ironically, winter’s cold and snowy conditions provided for a less complicated job—the snow allowed for easier transportation on sleds, while the hard frozen ground helped minimize erosion of the woodlots or other forest damage while logging.  

 

"A Black Wood Cutter at Shelburne, Nova Scotia,: by William Booth

Library and Archives Canada, Acc. No. 1970-188-1090 W.H. Coverdale Collection of Canadiana

 

From Lansing’s letter, it appears the enslaved men, Lisbon, Dick, and Bob, were the ones tasked with carrying out the first steps of the logging process. This was a cumbersome job, and Lisbon, Dick, and Bob may have felt the cold even when properly outfitted for the freezing temperatures.  Schuyler receipts show he often hired cobblers to sometimes make, but far more often only repair, shoes for the people he enslaved. Cheaper army rates by comparison show that the work Schuyler paid for on numerous occasions was of a good quality cobbling. Yet, they were still wearing shoes that were only repaired when Schuyler called on a cobbler. He did so frequently because it was important to keep clothing and equipment in good shape due to the demanding and dangerous conditions of the work. 

 

Bob, Dick, and Lisbon would have been dressed for this work in wool coats and socks, knit caps, and possibly even full-length trousers (as opposed to the more common and fashionable knee-length breeches). Clothing examples from advertisements for the recapture of escaped servants often listed the clothing worn by the enslaved, many of which showed that wool garments were commonly worn. One such example from a September 1^st, 1774, advertisement shows notes the clothing of a man named Bram at the time of his runaway as:  

“...a white woolen homespun jacket, a wool hat, a woolen shirt, buckskin bre eches, linen trousers, a pair of grey stockings, a good pair of shoes and plated buckles...”  

Wool was a ubiquitous clothing material prized for its warmth and durability. Furthermore, in the snow wool can have water repellant properties. While Schuyler, who himself would not have been required to work out in the cold, was not primarily concerned with the comfort of those he enslaved, he would have inevitably lost money on what he saw as an “investment” should he have failed to keep the people he enslaved properly outfitted while they completed their labor outside.  

 

After the logs were partially processed, they would have been taken on horse sleds to the mill for further refinement.  This letter indicates that there was enough snow for travel using horse sleds, which was the most effective means for transportation of the logs to the mill as the snow would allow the sleds to glide, taking some of the weight off the horses as they pulled them. Without the use of sleds, the weight of the logs would have been a difficult burden to haul. The letter makes no mention of who drove the sleds and horses at the logging site. However, other letters reveal that the three men mentioned were often in charge of work involving transportation, such as carting bottles of oil and retrieving horses as mentioned in a June 20^th, 1790, that notes “I would send the wine & Muscovado sugar by Captain Bogarts.” This was a prized skill and responsibility for an enslaved person because any specialized skill provided the enslaved with opportunities to work on special jobs or, occasionally, made it possible for them to seek outside employment opportunities or income. Furthermore, special skills could translate to less direct supervision and scrutiny from the Schuylers or their overseers.  

 

Once transported to the mill, the timbers would be processed down into logs of varying sizes. The logs may have been split to make framing for the construction of homes to meet the constant need for more housing. At the time there was a growing population of newcomers to the region from across the Northeastern colonies as colonists across the Northeast sought to escape the crowded lands of the New England for the less populated Albany and Mohawk valley. The logs also could have become firewood that would be transported from the mill to the Schuyler residence or be sold off for profit.   

 

When examining the toll of labor, it’s important to remember that almost all enslaved labor would have been completed in harsh conditions. Farming and the hauling of goods was undertaken outside in varying and sometimes rather harsh climates. Under the hot sun there was risk of heat stroke or dehydration. Dick was cited in at least one medical record as being treated for chronic hernias, a condition consistent with hard labor and heavy lifting. Similar ailments plagued Dick and the other enslaved people under Schuyler’s purview. Medicines for joint problems or skin burns and rashes were much more common than anything treating cold weather conditions, though rare occurrences are evident. Schuyler’s medical registers show a lack of cold weather-related illnesses and ailments among the people he enslaved, which speaks to the attention he took to their health. The harsh winter weather alone made outdoor labor dangerous no matter the ease of access to medical treatment. 

 

Beyond the impact of cold weather on the body, it’s equally as important to consider how winter impacted socialization and social spaces. The enslaved men mentioned in Lansing’s letter, Lisbon, Dick, & Bob, may have left any friends and family they had for an indeterminate amount of time. Saratoga was not completely remote, but during the winter it would have been nearly impossible to justify travel back to Albany unless Schuyler required it. Furthermore, travel between Saratoga and Albany could have been halted by snow making it difficult to return to friends and family. With most, if not all, family and friends out of reach, Dick, Lisbon, and Bob likely had a limited sphere of socialization while at Saratoga. They had each other, but otherwise likely felt a disconnect from Lansing and his hired free laborers. Their status as enslaved men kept them intentionally separated from the social communities of free white men—the men who oversaw the operation. 

 

Between the strenuous labor of logging, hauling, and milling and the separation from their family and friends, Lisbon, Dick, and Bob would have felt the great toll of social isolation at the same time as physical strain. This social isolation was a weight on the men that may have been difficult to voice or combat. Their condition of enslavement ensured there was a limited social space for Lisbon, Dick, and Bob. Community and socialization were not at their whim. This reality circumscribed the social lives of the enslaved which was already limited by weather and the labors passed down in orders from enslavers. The lack of written sources from the perspective of enslaved people presents challenges in accurately documenting their stories, leaving it very difficult to make concrete conclusions about the social lives of the enslaved. However, as Lansing’s 1771 letter illustrates there is a lot to be taken from vague references or mentions of enslaved people. Lisbon, Dick, and Bob make frequent appearances in other Schuyler papers and though these mentions don’t provide concrete details about these men they still offer opportunities to examine context. Reading about the labor the enslaved would do or the people they met helps add to an overall understanding of their lives. The enslaved do not reside outside of documentation and can be sought through the combining of multiple sources and the consideration of wider possibilities.  

 

The environment surrounding Lisbon, Dick, and Bob may have included family or friends with them at Saratoga also engaged in their own set of winter labors. The men staying at Saratoga would have wanted to have someone available to cook meals, mend clothing, or keep the fire. These jobs were often the work of women so it is possible Lisbon, Dick, or Bob could have been in community with a woman from Albany they’d been familiar with. Furthermore, it is possible that the routine of traveling to Saratoga for logging brought the possibility of seeing familiar groups of men each winter for the logging. Few people are mentioned in Lansing’s letter, so it is entirely possible there were many others at the logging camp who were familiar acquaintances. These friends may have been companions in joking or storytelling between labors. In either of these cases, the trip to Saratoga appears lighter, still burdened with the weight of enslavement, but with space for some levity between social connections.  

 

Philip Lansing’s December 27, 1771, letter is an opportunity to portray the experiences of enslaved and free laborers during the cold winter months in New York. At the forefront of this letter is the content covering the winter work of logging and milling that would have been ever present during the winter for the able-bodied. This letter also provides space for discussion about the enslaved men Lisbon, Dick, and Bob, who were brought to Saratoga as enslaved laborers at the logging camp. Their isolation from family and friends or the created community at Saratoga is important to remember because it speaks to the spaces of socialization the enslaved contended with. Weather, labor, and orders from enslavers set boundaries on the socialization available to them. Beyond the content of Lansing’s 1771 letter there are many other Schuyler Papers in the NYPL Collection and Schuyler Mansion collections that provide space for research about the lives of the enslaved. 

 

Bibliography 

 

Britannica, T. Editors of Encyclopaedia."sawmill." Encyclopedia Britannica, January 10, 2020. https://www.britannica.com/technology/sawmill. 

Defebaugh, James Elliot. History of the Lumber Industry in America, Vol. 1 (Chicago: The American Lumberman, 1906), 308-309. 

Thompson JR, Carpenter DN, Cogbill CV, Foster DR (2013) Four Centuries of Change in

Northeastern United States Forests. PLoS

ONE 8(9): e72540. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0072540 

https://fotm.link/b2973800-b4b3-4edd-b9fa-6f98a17e612c