LIARS; Coswell and Jefferson

I believe newspaper man Harry Croswell (above) may be best understood by a story he told about himself.

One of his victims, a large and aggressive Justice of the Peace named Hagedorn, spotted the young journalist crossing the street in the river port boom-town at the southern end of the Erie Canal: Hudson, New York. 

Brandishing his whip, Hagedorn leaped from his wagon and accused the unsuspecting Croswell of slandering him in his newspaper.  As a crowd quickly gathered Harry Croswell calmly responded that he did not believe that Hagedorn would “whip” him. 

The offended justice exploded in a stream of profanity and then remounted his carriage and whipped his “poor horse” instead.  As the angry man disappeared down the street a witness asked Harry how he could have been so certain Hagedorn would not have used the horse whip on him, to which Harry replied, “Mainly because I planned to run away.”

Harry lived in a world not so different from our own. True, he never experienced the joys of indoor plumbing, nor the miracles of modern medicine, but his America was a land bitterly divided, plagued by partisanship, confused by conspiracy theories right and left, and afflicted with a media that fanned the flames of discord in the name of profit.  Of course, the American republic of Harry Croswell’s day had a valid excuse for its childish behavior; it was little more than a child itself.

First, Congress had passed the Naturalization Act, of 18 June, 1798. Openly supported by outgoing President George Washington, (above), this law required anyone applying for citizenship first be a resident for at least 14 years. (At this point it had only been 22 years since the Declaration of Independence).

Then there was the Alien Friends Act, of 25 June, which authorized incoming President John Adams (above) to deport any resident alien whom he personally considered dangerous. This was followed by the Alien Enemies Act of 6 July,  which allowed the President to deport any alien whose original nation was currently at war with the United States. And finally, there was the Sedition Act of 14 July, 1798. This made it a crime to publish anything “false, scandalous, and malicious” about the government or its officials. Taken together these were the Alien and Sedition Acts.

The acts were the creation of the Federalist President John Adams, and his Treasury Secretary, Alexander Hamilton (above).

And few in the country had any doubt the laws were intended to be used against the friends and allies of Vice President, and founder of the opposition Democratic-Republican Party,  Thomas Jefferson (above).

To oversimplify the situation, the Federalists were in favor of a strong central government, while Jefferson’s Democratic-Republicans were in favor of strong states. The contest between the two philosophies seemed to have been decided in 1800 when Jefferson was swept into office, succeeding the one term Adams. But as soon as President Jefferson had the reins of power in his hands he began to beat the same horse President Adams had.

In fact most of this flailing was started by the Republican side, and was written  by 22 year old James Callender, from Virginia. He was Jefferson’s personal attack dog, AKA, his "pen for hire", and what was called a "scandalmonger".  

It was Callender who, in print, called the father of the United States and founder of the Federalist party, George Washington,  a traitor.  Politics in the early United States seemed to be the invective filled writings of the Republican James Callender set against the invectives of the Federalist Harry Crosswell 

The “tall, and manly” Harry Crosswell, was the son of a Connecticut preacher. His tutor had been the old Federalists, Noah Webster, of the dictionary fame. 

Harry began his career as an assistant editor on the Hudson, New York Federalist newspaper called the “Balance”.

But in 1802 when Democratic-Republicans in New Haven, Connecticut started an anti-Federalist attack sheet called “The Bee”...

.... Harry Callender convinced his publisher to fund a Federalist four page attack sheet in response, which he called “The Wasp”.  He wrote under the pen-name of “Robert Rusticoat”, and pledged that “Wherever the Bee ranges, the Wasp will follow…the Wasp will only strive to displease, vex and torment his enemies .” And he did.

What was most amazing was that, as Thomas Jefferson took power in Washington,  Harry Crosswell's really nasty attacks on him, were reprinted from the pen of James Callender, the ex-confidant of Jefferson himself.

In 1801, when Jefferson refused to name Callender Postmaster for Virginia, the only job Callender could find was as at the weekly Federalist newspaper in Richmond, Virginia, The Recorder.  Once there, the bitter Callender turned on his one-time sponsor, detailing how Jefferson had fed him word for word the vile attacks upon Washington.  

And it was James Callander who now revealed Jefferson’s liaisons with his slave, Sally Hemings, and their children.  And Harry Crosswell reprinted every one of the salacious details in his newspaper, The Wasp.

In January of 1803, Harry Croswell was dragged before three Republican leaning judges and charged with “... being a malicious and seditious man, and of depraved mind and wicked and diabolical disposition, and also deceitfully, wickedly and maliciously devising, contriving and intending, toward Thomas Jefferson, Esquire, President of the United States of America...and to represent him… as unworthy of the confidence, respect and attachment of the people of the said United States…”
Now this was nothing new for Harry Crosswell.  He was constantly being sued by his targets, such as the angry Justice of the Peace, Mr, Hagedorn.  But this time the Jeffersonians were determined to bring the full weight of their political power to bear. Harry’s lawyers requested copies of the indictments; denied. They requested a delay to bring James Callender up from Virginia, to testify; denied. They requested a change of venue; denied. 

After six months of denials, the case was finally went to the jury, and jury instructions from the  imperious Chief Justice Morgan Lewis’ (above) sealed Harry’s fate. “The law is settled. The truth of the matter published cannot be given in evidence.”

This was old English Common Law, the standard still in use in the United States, at the time. And under its rules, the jury retired at sunset, and at 8 A.M. the next morning convicted Harry Croswell. His lawyers immediately filed an appeal for a new trial, and while that was heard, at least Harry was out of jail. 

That did not seem to help much because over the summer his primary witness for the defense, James Callender, scorned confidant of Thomas Jefferson, and life-long alcoholic, fell into the mud flats along the James River in Richmond, Virginia, and drowned.

Speaking for Harry's defense before the New York state Supreme Court, on 13 February, 1804, was Jefferson's nemeses, Alexander Hamilton himself. He argued that the only restraint on publishers should reside not with the government and politicians, but with the “occasional and fluctuating group of common citizens” sitting on juries. Only if a charge was untrue, and only if the writer had reason to know it was untrue, should it be considered slander; or so argued Alexander Hamilton.

Amazingly the New York State Supreme Court agreed. They overturned Harry’s conviction and ordered a new trial. They even fined Chief Justice Morgan Lewis $100, for being so biased. 

Clearly, the political winds had shifted. Public opinion had not taken kindly to Republican politicians arguing they should be exempt from public criticism, any more than it liked Federalists doing the same thing. The New York Legislature even re-wrote their libel and slander laws. 

But, Thomas Jefferson was not willing to take "no" for an answer, and Harry Croswell was brought up on new charges. And he was convicted again. But this time the jury awarded the plaintiff exactly six cents, which wasn’t a lot of money, even in 1804.

Harry Croswell was now made senior editor of "The Balance". But the fire had also gone out of the Federalists cause, and the paper floundered financially. In 1811, having served a short term in debtor’s prison, Harry retired from politics completely. He never even voted again. 

Instead, Harry Crosswell became an Episcopal Minister and eventually was assigned to the Trinity Church in New Haven, Conneticut. He preached there for 43 years. Said one of his flock, “He was not a great preacher, but he had an extraordinary knowledge of human nature, and could ingratiate himself into every man's heart.”

Thus, having applied his talents in a more productive way than politics, Harry Crosswell, died on 13 March , 1858, at 80 years old. His life could be divided in two. In the first phrase, he made history. In the second phrase, he made a real difference.

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KISSING GEORGE WASHINGTON Chapter Three

 

I know that only about half of the “Soldatenhandel” in Trenton, New Jersey, on the dawn of Boxing Day, 26 December, 1776, were from the poor small state of Hesse-Kassel.  But to the American soldiers marching 8 miles through the snow in the cold and wind, to do battle with them, every German in Trenton was a hated Hessian.

The village of Trenton over looked the Delaware River and was bisected by Assunpink Creek to the southeast (above). At the northern apex of the town, on high ground, a right hand road led 20 miles north to Princeton, while a left hand road led 19 miles west to Pennington, New Jersey. From the apex square two parallel streets angled down hill into the town, forming an “A”. King Street ran to the west and Queen Street to the east. Both crossed three numbered streets and Front Street, before King Street terminated at the “River Road”, which led 9 miles north to McConkey's ferry.  Queen street angled east before crossing Assunpink Creek over an arched stone bridge.  The poorer third of Trenton was south of the creek, while the road continued south toward Bordentown, 20 miles down the Delaware River.

Three regiments of Hessians had occupied Trenton just since 14 December, one in the south and the other two in the north end of town.  Most here were crammed into the “Old Barracks” (above), built by the colony of New Jersey to shelter 300 of the King's soldiers during the French and Indian War - 2 men to each bunk, 12 men in each of the 20 rooms

 But in 1776, 36 year old Colonel Johann Gottlieb Rall (above), was pressed to find living space for all 1,500 of his men, a task made more difficult after evacuating patriots set fire to many of the village's 100 buildings. And within 3 days of their occupation, it was clear the Hessians in Trenton were under siege.

Almost every day and every night, rebels took pot shots at the German sentries, and threatened to burn down the buildings the Hessians and their families were sleeping in. Picket duty, such as the roadblock at the village apex, and the road block on the River Road, which would have normally been the duty of ten men, now required fifty. Colonel Rall was forced to rotate his regiments, keeping one always on alert, even ordering the men not on duty to sleep in uniform, with their weapons at hand. The alert regiment could expect to answer at least one alarm most nights, rushing to reinforce the pickets, or even chase down gangs of arsonists. 

This constant interruption of the men's sleep was no harmless game. Just the week before two couriers were attacked on the road to Princeton, and one was killed. Rall sent fifty mounted men to ensure his dispatches got safely to headquarters. After two weeks of this constant tension, one junior officer confided to his diary, “...our people begin to grow ragged…. We have not slept one night in peace since we came to this place.”

In fact, the first night Colonel Rall felt secure enough to allow his men to relax was during the storm on Christmas night. But even then, the evening did not begin peacefully. Shortly after sunset, the picket guarding the northern apex traded shots with a mounted rebel party - it was, probably, Lt. Monroe's raiders.  Six Hessians were wounded. In response an ensign led 30 men up the Pennington Road, in search of the raiders. But the wind and sleet drove them back, and as the storm strengthened and the temperature plunged, Rall ordered most of the men back to their barracks, leaving a scant guard to suffer the storm out of doors in two hour shifts.

There were no Hessian parties that miserable Christmas night, and very little drinking. There was only the sound and smells of 1,500 exhausted, bored and nervous men in very close quarters, snoring, coughing, mumbling in their sleep and using chamber pots. As if by divine will, the Nor'easter had blown its last cold gust just as General Washington launched his two pronged assault.

The first hint of disaster came to Colonel Rall in his sleep, shortly after eight in the morning of Boxing Day. It was gunfire, again, muffled this time because of 12 inches of fresh wet snow on the ground.. Rall was unsure at first , but when he and his wife heard pounding on the front door of his headquarters, the colonel clambered out from his warm bed, and threw open the second floor windows. He demanded of young Lt. Andreas von Wiederholdt standing in in the snow, “Vas ist loss?” The nervous Lieutenant stammered almost apologetically, that the Americans had the town surrounded and were firing artillery from the high ground at the the north end of town. Johann Rall called for his horse to be brought out and threw on his clothes.

In fact, the town was not surrounded. The militia which was supposed to land south of Trenton the night before and complete the circle, had never made the crossing. But a junior Hessian officer, hearing the firing from the top of the village (1) , pulled the pickets who had been huddling in houses along the River Road at the bottom, and led them north to help with what he assumed was another American raiding party. The front door to Trenton was now unguarded

And it was not a mere raid. Rhode Island's Nathaniel Green, at the head of over half the American forces, about 800 men, had pushed the few unfortunate pickets suffering outside,  off the high ground at the pinnacle of the “A”, and cut the road to Princeton. 

Within a few minutes, Henry Knox's field pieces were blasting down both King and Queen streets (above), while Green's frozen infantrymen occupied houses, and began firing from windows and doorways. The hail of shot and shell ensured the newly arrived Colonel Rall could find no room to organize his regiments. There would be no counterattack up either street.

And just as the Hessian River Road pickets had abandoned their post, a column of about 600 men under New Hampshire General James Sullivan pushed unopposed across the broad base of the “A”, even filtering to the Queen Street approach of the stone bridge over Assunpink Creek (above). Now Rall's command really was surrounded, and a third of his strength was cut off. Out of contact with their commander, the Hessian regiment south of Assunpink Creek did little more than trade occasional musket fire with the Americans at the bridge

But there was an easy solution to the Hessian's problem. There was another bridge over Assunpink Creek, the Fourth Street Bridge, higher up the stream, north of the village. A road from here also ran to Princeton. Had the officer commanding the third Hessian regiment shown the initiative to look for a way around the American snipers at the Queen Street bridge, had he taken the chance of leading an attack around his own right flank, he would have fallen on the American left flank from the rear, just as Rall was finally leading a desperate attack against the front of that same American position.

Circumstances had forced Rall out into the open, to the field east of Queens street. Here his men had room to form up and maneuver in formation, and here he could bring the weight and discipline of his professional soldiers to men bear on the Americans. So, about an hour after the American attack began, and about 40 minutes after he had been awakened from a dead sleep, Colonel Rall raised his sword and commanded about 600 of his men to advance toward the American line with the bayonet.

It was the climax of the battle. Washington knew his men did not have the stamina for a long fight, and was pushing them forward, determined not to give the Hessians, or his own men, time to think. So even as Rall was leading his men into the field, American infantry were slipping into houses along Queen's Street, whose back doors gave them clear shots at the flank and rear of the Hessian assault. And by chance one of those shots hit Colonel Johann Rall in the abdomen. He did not fall from his horse, but he did slump in the saddle. It was clear instantly he had been gravely wounded, and immediately the Hessian attack fell apart.

Sensing the enemies' sudden collapse, the Americans pressed forward, driving the remaining Hessians back, into an orchard along the River Road. Colonel Rall asked for quarter, and a relieved Washington immediately agreed to accept his surrender. It was just about 10 in the morning, Boxing Day, Thursday, 26 December, 1776. The most important single battle of the American Revolution had been won.

Total American casualties for the operation were three wounded, one of whom was Lt. Monroe. Also, 2 men who had begun the march without shoes, fell asleep on the road to Trenton, and died of exposure. The Hessians suffered 22 dead – Including Colonel Johann Gottlieb Rall who died the next day - , 83 wounded and almost 1,000 soldiers and 23 officers, 1,000 muskets and 8 cannon captured. Most the third Hessian regiment managed to retreat 20 miles to Bordentown, although some stragglers for this unit were later taken prisoners as well.

Washington wasted no time in New Jersey. Aware now that his supporting units had not made the crossing, he had his weary men and their prisoners slipped back across the Delaware River by nightfall. The next day he informed Congress of his amazing victory. Two weeks before, Washington had warned Congress “Ten more days will put an end to the existence of our Army.” Instead, his Christmas Day crossing of the Delaware, and his Boxing Day assault on Trenton, had saved the American Revolution at almost the very moment of its birth.

Sometimes history is just that simple.

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