A Happy Ho-Ho-Kus anniversary for Aaron Burr

One of these days, I'm going to do a comprehensive Hidden New Jersey post on Aaron Burr. The guy keeps showing up in our travels, despite the fact that little to nothing has been made of his roots in the state.

It's kind of sad, actually: Burr was born in Newark, educated at Princeton (his father was an early president of the College of New Jersey) and led troops in the Battle of Monmouth. Those are credentials that would seem to qualify him to be honored with a rest area on the Turnpike, but there's no recognition. Most people only associate him with the duel with Alexander Hamilton, which made Burr the only US vice president to kill someone in a civilian capacity.

Aaron Burr: one complicated guy

Burr was the reason for the visit Ivan and I made to the Hermitage in Ho-Ho-Kus. A Gothic Revival gem with a storied history, this National Historic Landmark was the site of Burr's first marriage, to Theodosia Bartow Prevost, 230 years ago today.

It was the Revolutionary War and Theodosia's strong sense of self-preservation that brought the couple together. She was the wife of a British officer, Jacques Marcel Prevost, at a time when Continental troops were confiscating land with known ties to the Crown. While her husband was stationed far away and she had not seen him in some time, Theodosia knew that she had to do something to save her home and property from being seized.

Building friendships with influential people on both sides of the conflict, she heard that General Washington and his troops would be traveling through Bergen County after the Battle of Monmouth in July 1778. It was customary for senior military officials to stay in the homes of prominent citizens, so Theodosia offered the Hermitage to Washington, along with the surrounding fields where troops could make camp.

Washington's acceptance and subsequent stay marked the first of many visits by Revolutionary notables including Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, William Paterson and, of course, Aaron Burr. All may have played parts in helping Theodosia retain the property despite continued threats of confiscation.

Burr's subsequent visits to the Hermitage set the foundation for a lengthy friendship with Theodosia, sustained by correspondence over several years. After leaving the military due to poor health, Burr returned to the law studies he'd begun before the war. Meanwhile, Jacques Marcel Prevost had been sent to Jamaica and eventually died from wounds sustained several months earlier.

Her husband's death left Theodosia available for marriage, but it's said that she had some reservations about marrying her friend Aaron. At 35, she was ten years older than Burr, and he was in the early stages of establishing his law practice in Albany. To his advantage, he was an accomplished war veteran with many influential acquaintances and a fondness for smart women.

Just six months after becoming a widow, Theodosia agreed to wed, and the happy pair tied the knot in a double ceremony with friends at the Hermitage. They settled first in Albany and then in New York City, leaving the Ho-Ho-Kus property in the care of her family. It seems that Burr likely spent no more time there after the marriage than he had before.

Unfortunately, the marriage lasted only 12 years, ending with Theodosia's death from stomach cancer. Together they had one daughter, also named Theodosia, whom Burr made sure got a strong education in the Classics in a time when few women were so highly educated.

The Burr story is just a footnote in the 250-year history of the Hermitage, and the house as it stands today looks very little like the structure where Theodosia lived. Georgian-style stone construction is now obscured by the Gothic detailing added in the mid 19th century. We'll be taking a look at that in a future Hidden New Jersey entry.

Finding Pike's Peak in Trenton

I'm particularly tickled when a site that's expected to present one story ends up revealing another. That's the experience we had on a blustery visit to Trenton. Parking near the capital building to check out the original Masonic lodge, we found a sign that totally tripped me up. It said, in the customary New Jersey Tercentennial Sign haiku* format:

Brig. Gen. Zebulon Pike, explorer, 

born near here, 1779. 

Captured York, Canada, 

1813, but killed in attack. 

Pike’s Peak named for him.

Yet another western explorer born in New Jersey? You got it. In fact, one of his forebears was the founder of Woodbridge. His father, also named Zebulon, served as an officer under Washington in the Revolutionary War and continued his military service in the newly formed United States Army after independence had been won. As a result, the younger Pike spent most of his youth at forts in what was then the American frontier: Ohio and Illinois. He followed his father's footsteps and joined the army at the age of 15, rising to the rank of first lieutenant by the time he was 20.

While his military responsibilities seemed to focus more on administration and logistics, Pike came of age in the army just as western exploration was coming into vogue. The 1803 acquisition of the Louisiana Purchase nearly doubled the size of the nation, but much of the territory was unknown terrain to all but the natives who lived there. Young Pike was in the perfect place to make an impact, and in 1805, General James Wilkinson, Governor of the Upper Louisiana Territory, appointed him to lead an expeditionary force to find the source of the Mississippi River and bring back influential natives for negotiations. While Pike misidentified the river's origin, the other geographical information he gained was among the first learned for the U.S. government.

Wilkinson sent Pike on a second expedition in 1806 to locate the sources of the Arkansas and Red Rivers, establish relations with the natives and gain a greater understanding of the region's natural resources. Unlike the Lewis and Clark expedition, this journey started without authorization from President Jefferson and may have even been a spy mission. Some historians conjecture that Wilkinson may have been secretly collecting information for the Spanish government, using Pike as an unknowing accomplice. There's even a school of thought that the general was working in league with Aaron Burr to overtake the western United States, though it's never been proven. (Burr seems such a ready villain to some historians that one wonders if they'd charge him with starting World War I if they could.)

In any case, it was on this second expedition that Pike found the mountain that would eventually bear his name. Arriving in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado in November, lacking sufficient winter clothing and food, he and his team tried to reach the summit of the 14110 foot-high mountain but thought better of it and turned back. He was quoted as claiming that it was likely no man would ever reach the top.

The journey back was a lesson in hardship and disappointment. Pike and his men soldiered on through the winter, some suffering gangrene and frostbite along the way. Captured by Spanish soldiers near Santa Fe, they were interrogated and their records confiscated for a time, but they were generally well treated and eventually set free to return to undisputed U.S. territory.

You'd think that they'd receive warm welcome upon their return, but it wasn't the case. Jefferson himself was more enamored of Lewis and Clark's natural and scientific findings, and rumors had already begun to swirl about Pike's supposed involvement in the Burr conspiracy. Neither he nor anyone on his team received any special consideration for their efforts and hardships endured. If it weren't for Pike's Peak itself, it's doubtful that Zebulon Pike would be anything more than an answer to a particularly tough trivia question.


* Yes, I know that haiku generally take the three line, 5-7-5 syllable format. Go with me on this one.

Cheap gas... mall shopping... and a duel?

New Yorkers flock to current day New Jersey for cheap gasoline and tax-free clothing shopping, but in the early days of the United States, they had another reason for crossing the river: settling disputes. At the time, dueling was a socially accepted means of resolving a grudge, but laws against the practice in New York were severe and strictly enforced. New Jersey, however, was a bit less meticulous about stopping duels and punishing the participants. Even New York Governor DeWitt Clinton is said to have taken advantage of the site to settle a disagreement.

The cliffs of Weehawken were a favored spot for duelers -- they were close to the river for quick arrival and exit, and the surrounding brush and trees offered some cover. Today the bluff above the then-popular site is marked to denote the tragic 1804 duel that took the life of Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton while plunging Vice President Aaron Burr into infamy. A bust of Hamilton commemorates the event not far from where it occurred, accompanied by a stone on which his head was allegedly laid after he was mortally wounded.

What few people know is that Hamilton's son Phillip died by similar circumstances, not far away, three years earlier. Viewed by his father to be the family's "brightest hope," the 20-year-old was being groomed as a successor to continue on the family work in government and politics. Thus, it wasn't surprising that Phillip took umbrage at insults he perceived in an 1801 Independence Day speech by a young Republican lawyer named George Eaker. Words were exchanged, Eaker called the young Hamilton a rascal -- fighting words in that day. A duel was arranged shortly after.

According to the recent biography written by Ron Chernow, the elder Hamilton was torn when he heard of the impending clash. While having moral objections to dueling, he still felt it important to defend one's honor and integrity when insulted. He counseled Phillip to either hold fire or shoot in a direction away from Eaker. That way, if he were shot by his opponent, it would be considered murder. It was a very similar strategy to the one Hamilton would use in his own duel with Burr three years later.

Sadly for all involved, the strategy worked about as well for Phillip as it would for his father. Meeting his opponent at Paulus Hook in Jersey City, he held fire and calmly took the shot Eaker discharged. He died the following morning, attended by his grieving parents. You'd think the experience would have served as a lesson for Hamilton in his dealings with Burr, but his inability to see the futility of dueling would cost him his life, as well.

Visiting Princeton in Elizabeth

If you happen to get called for jury duty in Union County, be sure to check out Princeton University while you're there. You'll be walking in the footsteps of some of our most notable early Americans.

No, they haven't moved the county courthouse. It's still in Elizabeth, the county seat. The very seeds of one of America's nine colonial colleges were originally planted there, beside the First Presbyterian Church on what's now Broad Street. A marker commemorating the spot is planted squarely on the outside wall of the parish house, site of the original school building.

Colleges at the time were vastly different than they are today; the students were younger and primarily studied for the ministry. Jonathan Dickenson, the pastor at First Presbyterian, helped establish the College of New Jersey in October 1746 as an alternative to the less enlightened religious philosophy being taught at Yale. With his death the following year, the presidency of the school shifted to the Reverend Aaron Burr, father of the more famous man with the same name. He moved the school to Newark and eventually to Princeton, whose remote location he felt would provide little distraction from his students' scholarship.

Though The College of New Jersey had a brief stay in Elizabeth, the town's educational heritage had a major impact on American independence. The Parish House I mentioned earlier was built on the site of Elizabethtown Academy, which educated Revolutionary-era notables including Alexander Hamilton and his future nemesis, the younger Aaron Burr.

Hamilton made quite an impression on attorney and future New Jersey Governor William Livingston, who invited the student to live at Liberty Hall just a few miles away. The contacts the future Treasury Secretary made through Livingston were the foundation for his future accomplishments. He even established his reputation as a ladies man by wooing one of the venerable three graces, the beautiful and coquettish Catharine Livingston.

The Academy didn't survive the war, as many students joined Hamilton and some of the faculty in joining the Continental Army. The building itself, converted to a storehouse, was burned by the British in 1780.