|Few occurrences in the history of ancient or modern warfare have so
strongly influenced the public feeling--have excited so universal a
sentiment of horror, or such deep resentment towards the authors of the
crime--as the deliberate and barbarous murder of Mrs. Caldwell. It was
perpetrated not only as an act of vengeance upon an individual, but
with the design of striking terror into the country, and compelling the
inhabitants to submission. So far, however, from producing this effect,
it but roused the indignation of the whole community, filling all with
one spirit--one desire to avenge the deed, and drive the invaders from
their soil. It animated the brave with new energy, inspired the timid
to feats of heroism, and determined the irresolute to throng to the
standard of liberty. One of the journals of the day says: "The Caldwell
tragedy has raised the resolution of the country to the highest pitch.
They are ready almost to swear everlasting enmity to the name of a
Briton."
The Rev. James Caldwell, pastor of the First Presbyterian church in
Elizabethtown, New Jersey, was descended of a Huguenot family, and born
in Virginia. He married in 1763, Hannah, the daughter of John Ogden of
Newark. Her mother was Miss Sayre, a descendant of the Pilgrims. Her
brothers were all staunch whigs, with the exception of Jonathan, who
subsequently held the offices of Surgeon General in the British army,
and Judge of Newfoundland.
Shortly after the settlement of Mr. Caldwell at Elizabethtown, the war
broke out; and inheriting from his ancestors a feeling of opposition
to tyranny, he warmly espoused the cause of his country. He acted
as chaplain of those portions of the American army that successively
occupied New Jersey; joined Colonel Dayton's regiment, and accompanied
the Jersey brigade to the northern lines. He was stationed some time at
Johnstown, New York, and was afterwards appointed assistant commissary
to the army; stood high in the confidence of Washington; and by his
eloquent and patriotic appeals, contributed greatly, in times of
despondency to excite and sustain the drooping spirits of the soldiers.
All the influence commanded by his character and talents--his energy,
and his unbounded popularity in the community--was devoted to the cause
of American freedom.
This zeal and activity did not fail to render him obnoxious to the
enemy, and no effort was spared to do him injury. A price was set upon
his head; and it is said that while preaching the gospel of peace to his
people, he was often forced to lay his loaded pistols by his side in the
pulpit. On account of the predatory incursions of the British, he was
compelled to leave his home, for a temporary residence at Springfield,
New Jersey. The parsonage thus deserted, and the church in which he
preached, were used as a hospital for the sick and wounded of the
American army. Its bell sounded the alarm through the town on the
approach of the enemy; * the weary soldiers often slept upon its floor,
and ate their hurried and scanty meals from the seats of the pews; so
that worshippers on the Sabbath were not unfrequently compelled to stand
through the service. Even of this shelter the British and tories, who
cherished implacable enmity towards the pastor of the church, determined
to deprive the soldiers; it was burnt, with the parsonage, on the night
of January 25th, 1780.
Finding the situation at Springfield inconvenient, and the distance
too great from his church, Mr. Caldwell again removed to "Connecticut
Farms," four miles from Elizabethtown. It was during his residence at
this place that the British troops from New York, under the command
of the Hessian General Knyphausen, landed at Elizabethtown, before
daylight, on the seventh of June. *
* See Notes concerning Elizabethtown, by Rev. Dr. Murray.
Their march into the interior was marked by cruelty and devastation.
Several houses were fired, and the inhabitants left destitute of
provisions or shelter. When informed of the enemy's approach, Mr.
Caldwell put his elder children into a baggage wagon in his possession
as commissary, and sent them to some of his friends for protection.
Three of the younger ones--Josiah Flint, Elias Boudinot, and Maria, an
infant about eight months old, remained with their mother in the house.
* Mr. Caldwell had no fears for the safety of his wife and young family;
for he believed it impossible that resentment could be extended to a
mother watching over her little ones. He had that morning taken an early
breakfast, intending to join the force collecting to oppose the enemy.
Having in vain endeavored to persuade his wife to go with him,
he returned to make a last effort to induce her to change her
determination; but she remained firm. She handed him a cup of coffee,
which he drank as he sat on horseback. Seeing the gleam of British arms
at a distance, he put spurs to his horse, and in a few moments was out
of sight.
* The nurse also remained, and a little girl named Abigail Lennington,
a soldier's daughter, whom Mr. Caldwell had taken into his family. She
is still living at Elizabethtown. Immediately after the tragedy, she
with the nurse, gave deposition as to the facts before a magistrate.
Mrs. Caldwell herself felt no alarm. She had hid several articles of
value in a bucket and let it down into the well; and had filled her
pockets with silver and jewelry. She saw that the house was put in
order, and then dressed herself with care, that should the enemy enter
her dwelling, she might, to use her own expression--"receive them as a
lady." She then took the infant in her arms, retired to her chamber, the
window of which commanded a view of the road, towards which the end of
the house stood--and seated herself upon the bed. The alarm was given
that the soldiers were at hand. But she felt confidence that no one
could have the heart to do injury to the helpless inmates of her house.
Again and again she said--"They will respect a mother." She had just
nursed the infant and given it to the nurse, who was in the room. The
girl, Abigail, was standing by the window. A soldier left the road, and
crossing a space of ground diagonally to reach the house, came to
the window of the room, put his gun close to it, and fired. Two balls
entered the breast of Mrs. Caldwell; she fell back on the bed, and in a
moment expired. **
* He wore a red coat, and is generally supposed to have been a British
soldier. Some have attributed the act to a refugee.
** The little girl received in her face some of the glass when the two
balls entered, both of which took such deadly effect.
After the murder, Mrs. Caldwell's dress was cut open, and her pockets
were rifled by the soldiers. Her remains were conveyed to a house on the
other side of the road; the dwelling was then fired and reduced to ashes
with all the furniture. The ruthless soldiers went on in their work of
destruction, pillaging and setting fire to the houses, piling beds and
clothing in the street and destroying them, till the village was laid
waste.
Let it be imagined what were the feelings of the husband, when the
terrible news was communicated to him. It is said that he overheard some
soldiers in a house where he stopped, speaking of the occurrence; and
by questioning them, learned the truth. La Fayette, on his last visit to
America, informed one of the family, that Mr. Caldwell was with him
that morning on the heights near Springfield, and saw, by the aid of a
spy-glass, the smoke ascending from the burning houses. "Thank God,"
he exclaimed, "the fire is not in the direction of my house." He was
fatally mistaken!
Mr. Josiah F. Caldwell, one of the sons--the sixth of the nine children
who were thus bereaved of a mother--relates what he remembers of the
event. He was at the time six years of age. About sunrise, when it was
announced that the British were coming, he went into the street and
joined the people who were driving their cattle to Springfield. There
he saw his father with a field-piece--a six pounder, which had formerly
been used as an alarm piece. Thence the little boy proceeded to Bottle
Hill, and found his second sister, Hannah, at the house of Mr.
Sayre; and a day or two after, both the children set off on foot for
Connecticut Farms, to see their mother. On their way, they were met by
the nurse, Katy, with the two youngest children, in a chair belonging
to Mr. Caldwell; she informed the young orphans of their mother's death,
and insisted that they should return with her to Bottle Hill. The sister
yielded, and was taken into the carriage; the little brother refused to
go till he had taken a last look at his beloved parent, and pursued his
way to the Farms. On his arrival he was conducted to the house where
his mother's remains were laid. His father, who had arrived a short time
before, was standing beside the bed on which reposed the lifeless
form of this victim of political hatred. What a meeting for the
heart-stricken mourner, and the child scarce able to comprehend his
irreparable loss!
Some attempts were made by the royalist party to escape the odium of
this sanguinary transaction, by pretending that Mrs. Caldwell had been
killed by a chance shot. *
* Rivington's Royal Gazette, 1780.
The actual evidence, however, sets the fact beyond question that one of
the enemy was the murderer; and there is too much reason to believe that
the deed was deliberately ordered by those high in command. A letter to
General Knyphausen, published in the New Jersey Journal, in reproaching
him for the outrages of his army, unhesitatingly casts the blame of
the murder on him, as committed designedly by one of his men: and the
various rumors that went abroad amidst the popular excitement on the
subject, and were mentioned in the papers of the day, show that such was
the prevalent opinion. *
* The Hon. Samuel L. Southard, alluding to Mrs. Caldwell's death, in
connection with a memorial presented to the U. S. Senate for the church
and property destroyed, says "her children were baptized to piety and
patriotism in a mother's blood."
Mr. Caldwell himself presented an address to the public, * showing
that the murder of his wife had been a deliberate act, committed at the
instigation of those in authority. "Mrs. Caldwell," he says, "was of so
sweet a temper, and so prudent, benevolent and soft in her manners, that
I verily believe she had not upon earth one personal enemy; and whatever
rancor the enemy felt against myself for my public conduct and political
character, I have no reason to believe there was any person among them
under the influence of any personal difference, or private revenge.
I cannot therefore esteem it the private action of an individual. No
officer interfered to preserve the corpse from being stripped or burnt,
nor to relieve the babes left thus desolate among them. Many officers,
indeed, showed their abhorrence of the murder, and their tenderness for
the babes; why did they not set a sentinel over the corpse, till the
neighboring women could have been called? They knew she was a lady of
amiable character and reputable family; yet she was left half the day
stripped in part, and tumbled about by the rude soldiery; and at last
was removed from the house before it was burnt, by the aid of those who
were not of the army. From this I conclude the army knew the will of
their superiors; and that those who had benevolence dared not show it to
this devoted lady."
* Pennsylvania Journal, October 4, 1780.
The children were left at different places, till Mr. Caldwell bought a
small farm at Turkey, now called New Providence, where he collected his
family together, under the care of the faithful nurse, Katy. The remains
of Mrs. Caldwell were interred in the burial-ground of the Presbyterian
Church at Elizabethtown, and the congregation placed above the grave
a neat freestone slab, on which is an inscription recording her bright
virtues, and her melancholy fate. The memory of this martyr to American
liberty will long be revered by the inhabitants of the land with whose
soil her shed blood has mingled!
Her personal appearance is described as conveying the abiding impression
of benevolence, serenity, and peculiar sweetness of disposition. She
was about the medium height, with dark gray eyes, auburn hair, and
complexion of singular fairness; of pleasing countenance, and quiet,
gentle, and winning manners.
The tragedy was not yet complete. On the 24th of November, 1781, Mr.
Caldwell went to Elizabethtown Point for a Miss Murray, who came under
the protection of a flag of truce from New York, where she had shown
great kindness to some of the sick soldiers. Mr. Caldwell conducted her
to his gig, and then went back into the boat for her bundle containing
some articles of clothing. As he came on shore he was challenged by the
American sentinel, who demanded what "contraband goods" he had there.
Unwilling then to dispute the matter, he turned back to leave the bundle
with the officer; and at that moment was shot by a man named Morgan, who
had just been relieved from duty as a sentinel. This man is supposed to
have been bribed by British gold to the deed. Mr. Caldwell fell,
pierced by two balls; and his body was borne to Mrs. Noel's house in
Elizabethtown. Morgan, who fired upon him, was afterwards tried, found
guilty of murder, and executed. The remains of Mr. Caldwell were laid in
the same grave-yard with those of his wife; and the "Caldwell monument,"
at the inauguration ceremonies of which Dr. Miller and Hon. William L.
Dayton delivered their eloquent addresses in 1846, was erected to their
memory.
Mrs. Noel, the steadfast friend of the family, took the children under
her protection, assembled their friends, and consulted upon measures to
be taken for the care of them. All lived to become eminent and useful
members of society. The eldest son, John Edwards, was taken by La
Fayette to France, where he was educated; and in after years was
foremost in New York in benevolent enterprises, and editor of one of
the first religious periodicals in the country. The fifth son, Elias
Boudinot, was taken by the Hon. Elias Boudinot, President of the first
Congress; and was afterwards Clerk of the United States Supreme Court,
and one of the originators of the Colonization Society. Mrs. Noel
adopted the youngest child--a daughter--who is still living in New York.
The Rev. Dr. Murray of Elizabethtown, who has thoroughly investigated
the subject, has prepared an accurate account of the death of the
devoted patriot and pastor, which will shortly be given to the public.
On the 28th of February, 1779, a party of British troops from New York
landed at Elizabethtown Point, for the purpose of capturing the Governor
of New Jersey, and surprising the force stationed in the village under
General Maxwell. One detachment marched at night to "Liberty Hall," the
residence of Governor Livingston, and forced an entrance; but failed
of their object--for it happened that he had left home some hours
previously. Disappointed in the expectation of securing his prisoner,
the British officer demanded the Governor's papers. Miss Livingston
assented to the demand; but appealing to him as a gentleman, requested
that a box standing in the parlor, which she claimed as containing
her private property, should be secured from molestation. A guard was
accordingly stationed over it, while the library was thrown open to the
soldiers, who filled their foraging bags with worthless law papers and
departed. The box, which had been sedulously guarded, contained all the
Governor's correspondence with Congress, with the Commander-in-chief,
and the State officers; the young lady's stratagem thus preserving what
would have proved a most valuable prize to the plunderers. *
* Life of Livingston, by Theodore Sedgwick.
A repartee made by one of Lord Dorchester's aids to Miss Susan
Livingston, has been celebrated. When the British were evacuating
New York, she expressed a wish to him that their departure might be
hastened, "for among your incarcerated belles, the _scarlet_ fever must
rage till you are gone." Major Upham, the aid, replied that he feared,
if freed from the prevailing malady--"they would be tormented by a
worse--the _blue_ devils."
All the letters of Livingston to his daughters show the sympathy that
existed between them, and his confidence in the strength of their
republican principles. His opinions and wishes on all subjects are
openly expressed to them. In a letter to the Earl of Stirling, he
says he has entrusted to his daughter Catharine his despatches to his
correspondents in Spain. He writes at one time to her, noticing the
favor shown to the British captives--"I know there are a number of
flirts in Philadelphia, who will triumph in our over-complaisance to the
red-coat prisoners lately arrived in that metropolis. I hope none of my
connections will imitate them, either in the dress of their heads, or
the still more tory feelings of their hearts."
Catharine, the second daughter, afterwards married Matthew Ridley,
of Baltimore. He was at Nantes in 1778, in the American commission
business. *
* The following copy of an order sent to Nantes, rather curiously shows
the precariousness of transportation in those times. It is extracted
from a MS. letter of John Jay, dated Madrid, Jan. 21st, 1782, which
expresses a hope that one of the parcels may meet its destination:
"Be pleased to send for Miss Kitty W. Livingston, to the care of Hon.
R. Morris, Esq., at Philadelphia, by the first three good vessels bound
there, the three following parcels, viz:
"No. I to contain--