Animated in the Hour of Danger: Edward Livingston at the Battle of New Orleans

Major Livingston is depicted to the right of General Jackson under the flag.

The Battle of New Orleans was one of the few highlights in the otherwise embarrassing War of 1812. It also created the legend of Andrew Jackson and led to his presidency and the entire “Age of Jackson.” By his side throughout the New Orleans campaign was one man who helped Jackson in matters military, civil, legal and in almost every other way. His future Secretary of State, Edward Livingston.
         

"Beau Ned" as he was sometimes known

Edward was the youngest child of Judge Robert R. Livingston and Margaret Beekman Livingston. He had been born in 1764, making him too young to join his older brothers in the American Revolution although he had spent some time at George Washington’s headquarters at the very end of the war, as a gentleman volunteer.

Edward had arrived in New Orleans shortly after his brother Robert had negotiated the Louisiana Purchase from the French. He was looking for a fresh start after having resigned as Mayor of New York City and United States District Attorney amid a scandal created by an aid that was exasperated by Thomas Jefferson and Albert Gallatin. He quickly became a prominent lawyer in the city. In 1814 with fears of an attack by the British mounting, Edward was made chairman of a committee to defend the city. He was soon corresponding with Andrew Jackson,

Jackson's hair deserves its own portrait

who had been ordered to defend the city but who was still in Mobile, Alabama.

On the surface, there is little to suggest that Edward and Jackson should become friends. They had probably met in the 1790’s when they both served in congress. The refined gentleman from the Hudson River Valley and the rough backwoodsman from Tennessee, but their differences seemed to compliment rather than clash. Perhaps too, they bonded over a mutual dislike of the British developed as boys during the American Revolution. Jackson had been captured while acting as an unofficial messenger and was slashed with a saber, leaving life-long scars on his hand and head. His mother and brothers had died of smallpox during the war. Edward had seen his home burned by the British and his brother-in-law, Richard Montgomery killed in battle.

When Jackson arrived in New Orleans with his 1,000 American regulars Edward was among those there to greet him, translating Jackson’s arrival speech into French. Soon Edward had been made aide-de-camp with the unofficial rank of major. Edward’s young son Lewis, only about 16 years old, was made a captain and assistant engineer.

One of Jackson’s first commands in New Orleans was to impose martial law on the city. He felt that many of the citizens might not offer their full support to the army without a little prodding. Edward warned him that the move might not be constitutional but supported Jackson. Later Jackson would be fined for this move and have a hard time shaking a reputation for tyrannical behavior.

Monopoly breaker

A steamship, Enterprise, arrived at New Orleans with military supplies. Under normal circumstances the ship would have been in violation of Edward’s brother’s monopoly on steam ships on the Mississippi but martial law as well as Robert’s death in 1813 made that impossible to enforce. Even with these supplies Jackson found himself desperately short of ammunition. Livingston stepped in at this point again and helped to facilitate a deal between Jackson and his acquaintance and possible legal client, Jean Lafitte.

The dread pirate Jean Lafitte

Lafitte was the leader of the Baratarian pirates. He brought as many as 1,000 men to fight alongside the Americans as well as a seemingly endless supply of shot and gunpowder that he had preciously stocked in various hiding places in the bayous around New Orleans for his own piratical purposes.

On December 23, 1814, the British began to land near New Orleans. It has been claimed that Jackson declared that the British would never sleep on American soil. He ordered a night attack. The fighting was intense, violent and bloody and devolved in to hand to hand fighting with bayonets, knives and hatchets. Edward was mounted on horseback during the battle relaying order from Jackson to other officers, under fire the whole time. Jackson mentioned his bravery in his report on the battle at Villere’s Plantation.

Night fighting

The Americans spent the next several days preparing a fortification along a canal where they would make their stand. Edward became convinced that he would die in battle, even going so far as to write a farewell letter to his older siste Janet Montgomery. On January 7, 1815, the American troops assembled in what would become known as Jackson Square in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Jackson and Livingston had written a speech to rally the men and surprisingly chose to let Edward deliver it. He appealed to the zeal of Americans whose fathers had defeated the British in the Revolution, to the French and Spanish who had a hereditary hatred of the British. He appealed to the militia, the uniformed men and to the battalions of black men who had been assembled for the defense of New Orleans.

The final British assault began on January 8, 1815. The weeks between their landing and this attack had been filled with artillery duels and small scale attacks. The British army moved on Jackson’s line. Jackson, with Livingston at his side was on the line. The 44^th Regiment of Foot, the 95^th Rifles, men who had spent the last decade fighting Napoleon. They were stopped and mown down in front of the American Line. Sir Edward Pakenham, commander of the British army, was killed by rifle fire. Finally, the British retreated out of range of the American guns. Jackson was convinced not to follow them.

The battlefield was covered in the bodies of fallen British soldiers. Almost miraculously as Jackson and other officers stood on the parapet surveying the battlefield nearly 500 of the bodies stood up. Many soldiers had simply lay down to avoid being killed and now found themselves prisoners of war.

Edward was brevetted colonel and put in charge of the prisoners from the battlefield as well as those taken during the December 23 night attack. He headed down river to negotiate an exchange with the British only to find himself taken prisoner, despite much protesting, as the British attacked an American fort on Mobile Point to try to save face. He witnessed the surrender of the fort from a British ship.

The next day, February 13, 1815, word arrived to the British that the Treaty of Ghent had been signed. Edward was released and returned to New Orleans. There Jackson presented him with a miniature of himself painted on ivory, along with a note of thanks for his services and friendship during the campaign. The miniature is now in the collection of Montgomery Place at Bard College.

Was the hair all a lie?  From the Collection of Montgomery Place at BardCollege

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Jackson was elected president, he made Edward his Secretary of State and later his minister to France. Following these services Edward retired to Montgomery Place, which his sister Janet Livingston Montgomery left him in her will, to live out his remaining years in the same valley he grew up in finally at peace.

The Vanderbilt Forgery

Narrator: It was not in fact him.

         Every so often, when working at a museum, you are asked a question that you’ve never had to consider before. Recently the question was posed to me; “Did John Henry Livingston ever do time in state prison?”

Of course not. I mean John Henry Livingston came from a good family. He was a successful lawyer and he almost won a seat in congress. There’s no way he did time…..Right?

The Sabbath Recorder from December 12, 1867 has this brief article.

“John Henry Livingston has been sentenced to four years and six months at Sing Sing for passing a forged check for 75,000 purporting to have been signed by Cornelius Vanderbilt.”

 Up the river. Sing Sing Prison in 1857

Wait…. what? I needed to do some more digging.

          A little time on Google brought me to 1886 Professional Criminals of America by Thomas Byrnes. There, on page 286, is the entry for John Henry Livingston, which included a more detailed description of his crime. Apparently, Mr. Livingston walked into the National City Bank dressed as a messenger from the American Express Company. He presented the check for $75,000 to be paid to Henry Keep, President of the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad signed by

Cornelius Vanderbilt

Vanderbilt. He presented the check a teller named Thomas Worth, requested certain denominations and said he would be back for the money. A short time later he returned and was handed a package with $75,000 in it and left.

          Ok. So first and foremost who was this guy. Clearly, he was not the John Henry Livingston of Clermont.  Was he a Livingston at all? An article in the Hudson Daily Star on October 15, 1875 claims he was the son of the owner of Livingston Manor, who squandered his inheritance and was shunned by the family. He was described in the New York Evening Express as about 50, fat and jolly with a heavy double chin. He had apparently worked as a railroad conductor before turning to a life of crime. He apparently used the aliases Lewis, Matthews and DePeyster at various times according to several newspaper articles. One obituary I found, transcribed by Susan J. Mulvey claims he is the “prodigal” son of Henry W. Livingston, that he was born in 1821 and committed suicide in Albany in 1881. I can’t confirm this with the Livingston family genealogy but since that was assembled by descendants I wouldn't put it past them to write him out of the narrative.

          But, back to the crime at hand. Depending on the newspaper accounts I was able to find it was anywhere from several days to six weeks before anyone noticed that a forged check had been passed. At that point the police were called and the case was turned over to Detective William George Elder.He first

Thomas Worth, bank teller, artist and
crime buster.

interviewed the teller Thomas Worth. As it turned out, in addition to being a bank teller Worth was an artist for Currier & Ives. He produced a sketch of Livingston. Elder instantly recognized Livingston as a criminal he had tangled with before and the hunt was on.

So the descriptions weren't wrong.  

          Livingston stayed in New York City for about a week after his crime and bought several valuable horses. He had them shipped to Chatham Four Corners and then on to Buffalo. He then turned up in Buffalo where he spent another great sum of money on horses and shipped them to Chicago. He continued west and soon bought a farm or a ranch outside of Chicago at Blackberry Station.

Detectives caught up to him there either after a few months or two years depending on the source consulted. He was surprised by their visit and especially surprised when Detective Elder addressed him as “Mr. Livingston.” and denied being a forger but did not resist arrest. He had only $10,000 of the cash he had stolen left. Eventually the farm and livestock would be sold at auction to pay back the bank for its losses although ultimately only about half the money was recovered. Some of Livingston’s friends tried to start a legal action to keep him from being extradited. Elder had the legal paperwork to take Livingston back to New York but he was afraid Livingston’s friends might try a less than legal action to help him escape.

          Instead of boarding a train in Chicago, Elder and a police Captain named Yates put Livingston on a wagon and drove for twelve hours to the village of Dyer, Indiana where Elder and Livingston boarded a train for New York.

          Livingston did not serve out his sentence but was pardoned part way through. His wife and daughter had apparently sought shelter at an almshouse. After his release, he pulled off a minor scam in New York and then fled to New Orleans with his family where he managed to swindle several thousand dollars from some gentlemen.

          He next appeared in Mobile, Alabama where he tried to buy five steamboats for a fake company. His scam was found out and he fled again. He showed up in Chicago destitute during the winter of 1873-74. In the spring, he was suddenly wealthy again. Again, pretending to work for the American Express Company he attempted to withdraw $140,000 but was denied and fled back to New York City.

          In New York City, he was caught trying to scam $150 from a real estate agent with the assistance of his daughter, Jennie Lewis. He was sentenced to five years in prison, she was sentenced to two. There was a movement to have her pardoned and she was on February 19, 1876 because her crimes were committed on the order of her father. So far, I have been unable to determine her fate after her pardon. Several women named Jennie Lewis show up in the papers for everything from playing organ at church, to arrests for sand bagging and opium use, to suicide and even one Jennie Lewis who was murdered by a vengeful ex-fiance. I don’t know which one is our Jennie but I'm hoping its the six foot tall knife fighting knock out thief.

          Livingston was suspected of many other frauds but the police were unable to pin them on him. They could not explain where he had acquired the wealth he flashed about in New York City and Chicago.

So, what happened to John Henry Livingston after his imprisonment? Maybe he went to Albany and committed suicide. Maybe he retired to a quiet life. Personally, I prefer an ending given in the Ellicottville Post in December of 1887. After detailing his crimes, they concluded:

Recently an old man has been engaged in swindling operations in the West and it thought by police that it is possible he is Livingston.

Perhaps John Henry Livingston, the well-known confidence man, rode off into the sunset swindling society gentlemen the whole way.

Do Not Expose Yourself Needlessly

Margaret Beekman Livingston, a real person

Margaret Beekman Livingston was a strong woman. There is no denying that. She raised ten children, nine of whom turned out pretty well. She was known as a competent business woman, running her massive estate for twenty-five years after the unexpected death of her husband, Judge Robert Livingston.

When the British burned down her house and all of her outbuildings in the fall of 1777 she was able, through sheer force of will and perseverance, was able to convince Governor George Clinton to

release men from their militia obligations so they could be free to rebuild her house. She met military and political leaders, from George Washington to John Jay, and charmed them all.

Not that George Clinton

Closer

That's the one

Robert R. Livingston

On August 15, 1776 Margaret wrote a letter to her eldest son Robert Livingston where she revealed that under her tough demeanor was a mother, scared for her child’s safety. A letter that could have been written by any mother to any child in any time of war.  She wrote:

“I hear you are to be with Genl. Washington but in what capacity I cannot hear – must you too be exposed to the fire of our Enemies oh my Dear Child Consider your situation with respect to myself, and my other children Do Not Expose yourself needlessly. You are in the Civil Department let others be in the Military your country has need of yr counsel as well as your family”

The letter in question

The British Army had landed on Staten Island on July 2, 1776, the same day Congress had declared Independence. By August 1, 1776 the British had more than 32,000 soldiers in New York Harbor along with a fleet of some 400 ships. Margaret, like Washington, was concerned with where the British would land next. Which of her sons would be in danger? Would any of them die like her son in law Richard Montgomery at Quebec? Would she and her family be in danger if the British came up the river? The British landed on Long Island a week after she wrote her letter. Robert was not with the army but her son Henry, a Lieutenant Colonel in the 2^nd New York Regiment was trapped behind enemy lines for a period of time until he could escape to Connecticut.

Which brings up another reason for Margaret to be concerned about Robert’s safety. If something happened to him Henry Beekman Livingston would become the “man” of the family. While she had not kicked him out of the family as she later would he was still considered disagreeable at best.(Click here to learn about Henry)

Letters like this give us a glimpse into the real person, the very human, emotional person, who lived beneath the grand historical veneer that the Gilbert Stuart portrait puts upon her. We talk about her many accomplishments but can easily forget that she was a living breathing woman who feared for the safety of at least some of her children.

A Ditch Runs Through It

Why would anyone ignore him?

2017 marks the bicentennial of the beginning of construction of the Erie Canal. It was the canal that turned New York into the Empire State. Of course, we are talking about a government project in New York so it took a long time to arrive at the first shovel of dirt. 

In fact, Robert Livingston, First Lord of Livingston Manor had traveled into what was then Indian territory in what would be western New York in the early 1700's. He reported to several successive royal governors that improvements to the natural waterways of the colony would allow access to the abundant resources of the western lands. He was ignored.

The first commission on the Erie Canal was formed in March of 1810. It was carefully assembled to include federalist and democratic-republicans. The committee included Gouverneur Morris, Stephan Van Rensselaer, William North, Thomas Eddy,

DeWitt Clinton, George Clinton's nephew

DeWitt Clinton, Simeon DeWitt and Peter Buell Porter. Gouverneur Morris was the titular head of the committee but it was widely known that DeWitt Clinton was the driving force behind what would become known as “Clinton’s Ditch.”

Not this George Clinton

The major accomplishment of the committee was to convince the New York State Legislature that the canal was in face a feasible project. In June of 1810 the entire committee, except for Morris, traveled by water as far as they could on the Mohawk River then, joined by Morris, traveled to Lake Erie by carriage. They then produced a report that spurred the Legislature to act, no small feat.

Robert Livingston, shipping magnate

On April 8, 1811, the legislature approved $15,000 for the commission to begin their work. They also added two new members to the commission, Robert R. Livingston and Robert Fulton. Livingston and Fulton. Livingston and Fulton had a monopoly for steamboat travel on the Hudson River and were in the process of building a steamboat to ply the Mississippi River which would give them a monopoly on that river as well. Having them on board would provide an even greater economic incentive for farmers and merchants from the west to use the canal. Once the merchandise got to Albany it could be loaded onto steam boats and arrive in New York City a little over a day later.

Robert Fulton. A face that just screams "Trust me with your major engineering challenges

Fulton and Livingston quickly found important roles on the commission. Fulton was to help find designers who could build the canal while Livingston would work with DeWitt Clinton on the herculean task of  trying to find national sources of funding for the project. In October, 1811 they sent a letter to the governments of all American states and territories pointing out that the canal would benefit the entire country and that they should either pay New York to help build it or pressure the federal government to give New York funds to offset the cost of construction.

It didn’t go well.

The states that bothered to respond at all sent resounding no’s.

Shortly thereafter the small dust up known as  The War of 1812 put the canal on hold.

A kerfuffle, if you will.

The commission retained its power and in 1812 was legally allowed to create a fund to pay for the canal. (This was repealed in 1814). Although several of the commission members held or ran for other positions during the war and very little work got done.

Abraham Van Vechten

Livingston had one more role to play in the commission’s history, which he did by dying in February of 1813. Opponents of the canal in the New York legislature took the Chancellor’s death as an opportunity to challenge the authority of the entire commission, claiming that it ended when one member died and the committee would have to be reformed. Eventually Attorney General of New York, Abraham Van Vechten ruled that the power of the commissioners did not end with any particular member’s end.

It would be another four years before construction on the canal would begin. The canal was not finished until 1825.

low bridge

How to Blow Up a Gunpowder Mill

I recently received a few letters I had requested from the Gilder Lehrman Center and immediately answered a question that has nagged me for years (Read about the gunpowder mill here). I know that in late 1775 the mill exploded.
But why? I mean, yes, it was a gunpowder mill and if you make it right, gunpowder will explode. But what actually happened at Judge Robert Livingston's mill?

As it turns out it was the age old story. Stupidity.

Judge Robert Livingston wrote in a letter dated 15 November 1775 to his son in law, General Richard Montgomery, that

Judge Robert Livingston

"three stupid fellows fired a piece two or three yards from the place where the powder was drying" (The Judge had been sent a load of damaged powder from Fort Ticonderoga to try to salvage but you read my previous blog on the mill so you know this) He goes on "which set fire to the pans & then to the powder mill which unfortunately blew up, & they with the poor powder maker are most unfortunately burnt that they live is very extraordinary about 500 lbs of powder was blown up"

Wow. There's a lot there to dig into. The Judge tells us that the cause of the explosion were three chuckleheads. Its unlikely that they were employees of the mill but more likely militia men sent to guard it. He also tells us that the four men at the mill survived the explosion but were badly injured. We also know that 500 lbs of gunpowder were destroyed. I'm not sure I can fathom what 500 lbs of gun powder looked like when it exploded but it must have been exciting.

Maybe something like this? I don't know. I'm guessing at least one of the guys got burned trying to walk away all slow without looking back.

He also reveals where the gunpowder was supposed to go when it was ready. Again to Montgomery the Judge wrote "I should have been much more affected with my loss had you not met with so lucky a supply." This seems to indicate that the gunpowder was bound for the invasion of Canada. The "lucky supply" was gunpowder that Montgomery had captured from the British during his early successes during the invasion.

So one nagging historical question I've had is answered. The gunpowder mill blew up because of three yokels playing with guns.