When Your Hamilton Connection Is... Samuel Seabury?

Portrait of Samuel Seabury by Ralph Earl, 1785. National Portrait Gallery.

I've been doing some research on early American lines that branch off from my Smith tree. Those surnames include the following:

• Hall (immigrant ancestor: Edward Hall, 1636 arrival in Massachusetts)
• Capen (immigrant ancestor: Bernard Capen, abt. 1633 arrival in Massachusetts)
• Barsham (immigrant ancestor: William Barsham, 1630 arrival in Massachusetts)
• Seabury (immigrant ancestor: John Seabury, bef. 1639 arrival in Massachusetts)

As I was working on these lines, I thought to myself, "Where have I heard the name Seabury?" It rung a bell but I couldn't quite place it. Then, as my daughter was singing along to the Hamilton soundtrack in the car the other day, it hit me. Oh no. Of all the heroic, larger than life personalities featured in that brilliant musical, is our connection the pompous loyalist Hamilton derides in The Farmer Refuted? With some level of disappointment, this turned out to be the case. Samuel Seabury is my second cousin 9x removed. Our common ancestors are my 11th great-grandparents, John Seabury and his wife Grace. They were Samuel's second great-grandparents. When I told my mother she laughed and said it wasn't really such a surprise. Our Smith line is full of loyalists, colonists who sided with England during the Revolutionary War. 

John Adams wrote that approximately one-third of the American population supported the move for independence (Patriots), one-third of the population supported the king (Loyalists), and one-third supported neither side (neutral).

There were many reasons for people to remain loyal to the government of King George. Some of the Loyalists expected to be rewarded at the end of the war. Some wanted to protect their vast amounts of property. Many were professionals such as clergymen (who were dependent on the Church of England for their livelihood), lawyers, doctors, and teachers. [nps.gov]

Our loyalist ancestors tended to be wealthy and religious. It seems to be those things that caused them to cling to the crown. They feared the loss of their position in a free America. At the time of the Revolutionary War, Samuel Seabury was a prominent religious leader, on his way to becoming the first American Episcopal bishop. He was a conservative with deep ties to the Church of England.

Born in Connecticut in 1729, Seabury was the fourth and final Church of England minister who presided over the St. Paul’s parish through appointment by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel (SPG) in Foreign Parts, the missionary wing of the Anglican Church in the colonies. Honoring his oath to the King, a pivotal commitment of Anglican ministers, Seabury was a strident Loyalist, providing political and religious leadership to the Crown’s cause in New York, and was partially responsible for the sizable number of Tories in the St. Paul’s parish. Seabury followed his father, also named Samuel Seabury, into the church, and shared his commitment to the Anglican faith. nps.gov

The elder Samuel Seabury, who had begun life as a Presbyterian, renounced this faith while a student at Yale University and joined the Episcopal Church. This was seen as so radical that Yale threw him out, and he finished his education at Harvard. After graduating, he sailed to England, where he was ordained as a minster of the Church of England by the Bishop of London. 

His son, Samuel Seabury the younger, was raised with the religious fervor of his father, and grew to be an even more impassioned church leader. He was a talented writer and orator. In his church, he had a captive audience with whom he could share his loyalist message. He also expressed his feelings in writing, with a vehemence that brought him to the attention of revolutionary leaders.

Seabury was one of the signatories of the White Plains Protest of April 1775 against all unlawful congresses and committees and, in many other ways, he proved himself a devoted Loyalist. He wrote "Free Thoughts on the Proceedings of the Continental Congress" (1774) under the pen name A. W. Farmer (standing for "a Westchester farmer"), which was followed by "The Congress Canvassed" (1774). Alexander Hamilton responded to these open letters in "A Full Vindication of the Measures of Congress, from the Calumnies of their Enemies". Seabury wrote a third "Farmer's Letter" entitled "A View of the Controversy between Great Britain and her Colonies" to answer Hamilton, and Hamilton completed the exchange by writing "The Farmer Refuted" (1775). The three "Farmer's Letters" are forceful presentations of the Loyalist claim, written in a plain, hard-headed style. wikipedia.org

Lin-Manuel Miranda, left foreground, as Alexander Hamilton and Thayne Jasperson as Samuel Seabury in the musical “Hamilton” at the Richard Rodgers Theater. Credit: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

In November 1775, with tensions at a fever pitch, Seabury was arrested by revolutionary forces and spent six weeks in prison. Undeterred, Seabury returned to New York City after his release and volunteered to serve as chaplain to the The King's American Regiment, a militia of loyalists who later joined the British Regular Army. In April 1783, just months before the war ended, Seabury was named bishop of the Episcopal church in America.

When the British lost the war, many loyalists returned to England or escaped to Canada, still a British colony. They faced the loss of status, wealth, and respect in America, having backed the losing side in the war, and potentially even execution as traitors. Samuel Seabury did not leave. He moved to New London, Connecticut, where he became the rector of St. James Church. In 1790, he also took over leadership of the Diocese of Rhode Island. It is not clear why Seabury was spared the loss of status that other loyalists endured, especially when he had been such a prominent opponent of American independence. Perhaps his status in the church protected him. After the war, Seabury proved loyal to his new country.

I will also add that the Seaburys were slave owners, a reality that never fails to send my heart into my stomach. This is our history; we must not look away. 

Samuel Seabury grew up in a colony and family shaped by the slave economies and human enslavement. Seabury’s father owned at least one slave, named Newport, whose existence is marked in his father’s will. Two weeks before Seabury married Mary Hicks on October 12, 1756, his eventual father-in-law gifted Mary the slave who had served and would continue to serve as her personal servant. The Seabury-Hicks marriage, therefore, meant that yet again Samuel Seabury lived in—and this time managed—a household bound to human enslavement. Trinity College - The Primus Project

We rewatched Hamilton after making this discovery and my daughter said, "Mom, are we related to anyone better in this movie?" I grimaced and said, "Well, on your father's side you're related to British Admiral Howe, the guy with all the troops on the water." This did not go over well. I tried again. "I'm distantly related to John Jay." She said, "The one who bailed out after only writing five Federalist Papers?" "Well, he was sick," I reminded her. She was unimpressed. "At least we aren't related to Aaron Burr," I said. We were both satisfied with that.

Major Breakthrough: How Searching for a Surname Solved Two Big Mysteries and Revealed an American Revolutionary

The March to Valley Forge (1883) by William B.T. Trego

I learned two important things this week.

1. In genealogy the answer is often right in front of you.
2. One small discovery can create a chain reaction of secondary discoveries.

Also, sometimes you go looking for an ancestor and unearth a connection to some of the most important events in American history.


DAVOCK

I was looking for a Davock family in Buffalo, New York. My second great-grandmother, Annie Dickson, had an older sister whose middle name has always puzzled me. Elizabeth Davock Dickson was clearly named for someone, but Davock wasn't a surname I recognized. It appears nowhere in my family tree. Earlier this year, I discovered a 1865 census record that showed Elizabeth Davock Dickson's parents, George W. Dickson and Mary Elizabeth Bellangee, living with a Maria Davock and her children in Buffalo, New York. I guessed that perhaps Maria and her family had been special to George and Mary for some reason, and they had named their daughter in this family's honor. Still, I had no proof of this or knowledge of their actual relationship.

BROWN

Concurrently, I was looking for the parents of my fourth great-grandmother, Amelia Brown Bellangee. Amelia was the mother of Mary Elizabeth Bellangee and grandmother of Elizabeth Davock Dickson. She has caused me no end of headaches over the years, as her lineage simply could not be uncovered. I knew that Amelia was born somewhere in the vicinity of Buffalo, New York and likely died in Cincinnati, Ohio, but searches in New York and Ohio turned up no credible leads for her parents.

DICKSON

I've been writing about my Dickson ancestors for most of this year. Recently, I profiled my fourth great grandfather, William Dickson, in a series of blog posts. While reading through a biography of William Dickson written by his son, William Dickson Young, one line stopped me in my tracks.

"He [George W. Dickson] married Mary Bellangee of Milwaukee, Wisc., a niece of Mrs. Davocks [sic] who lived on Delaware Avenue, in a house where the Westminster Parish House now stands."

I'd read this biography in the past, but for some reason, had never picked up on the mention of Mrs. Davocks. Why had I never recognized the significance of this surname? Immediately, I started researching. Who was Mrs. Davocks? Was she related to Maria Davock? How were they connected to the Dickson and Bellangee families?

THE SEARCH

My first step was to do some research on Maria Davock. I went back to the 1865 New York census and found Maria Davock living on Delaware Avenue in Buffalo with her five children, John, William, Ella, Harlow and Hattie. There were George Dickson and Mary Elizabeth Bellangee Dickson in her household, just as I remembered. Since no husband was listed with the family, I guessed that Maria had been widowed prior to 1865. Online family trees suggested her husband was John W. Davock, a tanner who had died in 1853. I made a note of this and continued to look around for proof of Maria's family relationships. Fortunately, this family is fairly well documented. I found multiple census records and city directory listings that confirmed their location and relationships, plus a cemetery photo showing John W. and Maria's shared headstone, complete with full names and dates. Everything was coming together. The record that finally made all the pieces snap into place was an unusual one, though. In the Sons of the American Revolution Membership Applications 1889-1970 database, I found an application submitted by Maria's son, Harlow Palmer Davock. In paperwork requesting membership, Harlow listed the names of his parents, maternal grandparents and maternal great-grandparents.

Harlow Davock named his parents as Maria Brown Davock and John W. Davock. That's right, Brown! William Dickson Young had claimed that Mary Bellangee was a niece of Maria Davock. This means that Maria Brown Davock was the sister of Mary's mother, Amelia Brown. Suddenly, multiple branches of my family tree collided.  It makes sense that the Dicksons, Browns and Bellangees all knew one another, but I'd never been able to put it together until this moment.

Harlow Davock did me another favor by listing in his application the names of his maternal grandparents and great-grandparents. This allowed me to corroborate his claims using census records and published histories of Connecticut and the Brown family. Amelia and Maria Brown's parents were William Brown, M.D. and B. Palmer Brown.  I later determined that their mother's full name was likely Bridget Palmer. William Brown's parents were Joseph Brown and Elizabeth Gary. Joseph Brown was the ancestor that Harlow Davock knew would gain him membership in Sons of the American Revolution.

THE REVOLUTIONARY

Joseph Brown, my newly-discovered sixth great-grandfather, was a farmer in Killingly, Connecticut. When tensions reached their peak between American colonists and the British in 1775, he fell firmly on the side of the rebels. After the opening shots of the Revolutionary War were fired in Lexington and Concord in April 1775, Brown joined a hastily-assembled Connecticut company that marched north to Massachusetts to support the colonists fighting there. Brown served in Elwell's regiment only a short time during the Lexington Alarm, but his participation in these early days of the American Revolution was an exciting revelation for me.

I'm a history buff who has been to Lexington and Concord and stood on the spot where the first shots of the American Revolution were fired. I still inexplicably remember nearly every word of "Paul Revere's Ride" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, decades after being required to memorize it in elementary school. This is a period in time that has always captivated me. Discovering that my ancestor volunteered immediately after the skirmish at Lexington, and participated in the opening salvo of what was to be the Revolutionary War, was thrilling.

When the British troops, after a night of marching, reached the village of Lexington, they saw through the early morning mist a grim band of 50 minutemen-armed colonists-lined up across the common. There was a moment of hesitation, cries and orders from both sides and, in the midst of the noise, a shot. Firing broke out along both lines, and the Americans dispersed, leaving eight of their dead upon the green. The first blood of the war for American independence had been shed. 

The British pushed on to Concord, where the "embattled farmers" at North Bridge "fired the shot heard round the world." Their purpose partly accomplished, the British force began the return march. All along the road, behind stone walls, hillocks, and houses militiamen from village and farm made targets of the bright red coats of the British soldiers. By the time the weary column stumbled into Boston its losses totaled nearly three times those sustained by the colonists. 

The news of Lexington and Concord flew from one local community to another in the thirteen colonies. Within 20 days, it evoked a common spirit of American patriotism from Maine to Georgia. [source: The Society of Colonial Wars in the State of Connecticut]

Joseph Brown was swept up in that spirit of American patriotism. After the Lexington Alarm, he reenlisted, serving in Captain Joseph Elliott's company.

In 1777-1779, Joseph Brown served as an ensign in the Fifth Regiment Connecticut Line Formation. He fought in the Battle of Germantown in October 1777, a devastating American loss which resulted in the city of Philadelphia temporarily remaining under British control. However, recognizing the American effort in this battle, the French resolved to more strongly support the colonial army.

That the battle had been fought unsuccessfully was of small importance when weighed against the fact that it been fought at all. Eminent generals, and statesmen of sagacity, in every European Court were profoundly impressed by learning that a new army, raised within the year, and undaunted by a series of recent disasters, had assailed a victorious enemy in his own quarters, and had only been repulsed after a sharp and dubious conflict. [source: History of the American Revolution Volume IV by Sir George Otto Trevelyan]

Having survived the Battle of Germantown, Joseph Brown was assigned to Huntington's Brigade and spent the winter of 1777-1778 in the infamous winter camp at Valley Forge.

That's right, my sixth great-grandfather was at Valley Forge. With George Washington.

This was the turning point of the American Revolution. When we think of Valley Forge, most of us think of those bloody footprints in the snow, the starving and freezing men passing a bitter winter without sufficient food, clothing and shelter. But of course, Valley Forge was also the place the colonial army regrouped and became better-trained soldiers.

The suffering and sacrifices of the American soldiers at Valley Forge are familiar, iconic images, but there is another side of the picture. Valley Forge was where a new, confident, professional American army was born. Three months of shortage and hardship were followed by three months of relative abundance that led to wonderful changes in the morale and fighting capabilities of the Continental Army. France would enter the war on the side of the new nation. Valuable foreign volunteers and fresh replacements would trickle into camp. Most important, it was at Valley Forge that a vigorous, systematic training regime transformed ragged amateur troops into a confident 18th century military organization capable of beating the Red Coats in the open field of battle. [source: ushistory.org]

My family tree gained several generations this week. I wish my grandmother was here to discuss this discovery with me, because I know she would have been thrilled with the breakthrough and the connection to some of the most important moments in American history. This makes all these years of fruitless research on Amelia Brown completely worth it. Rarely in genealogical research do you experience a breakthrough quite this rewarding. I'm savoring this one.

Richard Stockton: Signer of the Declaration of Independence

The signature of Richard Stockton on the Declaration of Independence

 My family moved to a small town four years ago. The Fourth of July is a big deal here and a large chunk of the community turns out for the annual Fourth of July parade. It's a lot of fun, and we all get into the spirit of the day.

This year, after the parade had ended, the cookout was cleaned up and the kids were in bed, I dug back into the bins of photos and documents left to me by my grandmother, LaVerne Rutherfurd Smith. Inside, I found a short letter written by my grandmother that detailed how her interest in genealogical research began.  It reads as follows:

At a family supper on the Fourth of July in 1957 the children wanted to know about the American Revolution we were celebrating. Then came the question, "Did we have anyone in the Revolutionary War?" "Of course," came the response. Then the hard one: "Who?" That began the search which has led to endless interesting searching and down many side roads of family history.

The coincidence of finding this on the Fourth of July made me smile. Yes, as my grandmother discovered over the years, we do have ancestors who fought in the Revolutionary War. Even better, we have a relative who signed the Declaration of Independence. While Richard Stockton is not a direct ancestor, his contribution to American history is certainly worth highlighting here.

Richard Stockton is my second cousin nine times removed. His great-grandparents, Richard and Abigail Stockton, are my tenth great-grandparents and the Stockton line's immigrant ancestors, having emigrated from Cheshire County, England to New Jersey in the mid-1600s. Richard Stockton, the signer of the Declaration of Independence, was born on October 3, 1730 in Princeton, New Jersey. He was the son of John Stockton and Abigail Phillips. His father, John Stockton, was wealthy and influential, having served for many years as a judge in the Court of Common Pleas in the County of Somerset, New Jersey while America was still a British colony. Together with four other local men, he donated the acreage and funds necessary to establish Princeton University.

Statue of Richard Stockton located in the United States Capitol

Richard Stockton was the eldest of John and Abigail's children. He became a lawyer and a good friend of George Washington. He served as a trustee of the College of New Jersey, later Princeton University. He was also a member of the King's Council for New Jersey. As tensions between Britain and its colony heightened in the mid-1700s, Richard Stockton was torn between his belief that America should separate itself from the crown, and his career and longtime friendships with devoted loyalists. The book "Biographies of the Signers" by John Sanderson details Stockton's difficulties during this time and his conflicting allegiance. Eventually, Stockton fell firmly into the rebel camp, working on behalf of American independence.

In 1776, Richard Stockton was elected to the Second Continental Congress, and also elected the Chief Justice of the New Jersey Supreme Court. He turned down the court position in order to retain his role in Congress. On July 4th, he signed the document that the Congress had drafted declaring the colonies' independence from England. His son-in-law, Benjamin Rush, husband of his daughter Julia, also signed the Declaration of Independence.

On November 30, 1776, Stockton was captured by loyalists and turned over to the British. He was jailed at Perth Amboy.  Stockton was freed six weeks later, but his health was never the same. He had been subjected to freezing temperatures, starvation and brutality during his prison stay, and the effects of that mistreatment lingered until his death from cancer on March 7, 1781.

An image of Richard Stockton can be found in the National Statuary Hall in the United States Capitol in Washington, D.C. He is also featured in John Trumbull's famous painting of the signing of the Declaration of Independence which hangs in the Capitol Building's rotunda. In that image, he is between Benjamin Franklin and John Hancock, seated on the left in a group of four men.

It is an indirect relationship, but one that certainly inspires pride. To be connected, however distantly, to one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence is pretty amazing.