THE ALBANY LETTERS

“Nextly, who did Mrs. S introduce to you as beaux on this occasion? You say it was a Mr. F…a Fish or Fight or Fidget or Frump of Flummery or Fool I cannot with certainty determine. Perhaps these names will all apply to him at different times. Like Falstaff [John Falstaff] when you first saw him he might have been drunk and forgotten his name.”- Lazette Miller writing her sister Frances Miller Seward family digital archive 

      These days it takes about two and a half hours by car to get from my house in Glen Wild to Albany. I made the trip to dig into Samuel S. Seward’s letters in the state library’s collection. I doubted that I would find a smoking gun, but I did find plenty of kindling. Purchased from Hoosierland Books in 1968, these letters had remained tucked away in private hands for over 150 years. The state librarian rolled out a cart containing two large boxes filled with folders packed with original correspondence, and left me to it—no white gloves, some loose paper, a camera and a pencil. I was in heaven.

    The first thing that I noticed was how many letters there were from Henry’s older brother Benjamin Jennings (aka “Jennings”) Seward, written home to his father. Jennings was in exile in Cincinnati at the same time period that his brother Henry “disappeared” to Georgia. It didn’t take long to gather that “Jennings” had left New York under a cloud. Just like James Teed, his debts had gotten the better of him and he had chosen to get out of town and let others deal with the blow back. As the Report of… states “after…conveying the land to Conklin…and from the pressure of his debts, [Teed} was induced to leave this part of the country, and was absent for two years.”

    Jennings Seward wrote his father apologizing for all the disappointment he was causing. “For all this I stand your debtor. Nay more. The many mortifications and disagreeable reflections I have caused you- the anxieties and fatigues I have brought you under- the painful accusations excited by ingratitude and dishonor- the disappointments of your fondest hopes for the success of your offspring, the indignations excited by obstinacy perverse willfulness and disrespect- the thwarting of your purposes- the neglect of your [illegible]- the disgrace of your family and the perpetual harrowing of your feelings and peace of mind, for all this (and more almost to infinity) I sincerely acknowledge myself your debtor. What more can I? I can- I will- I do, in the honesty of my outset, bow myself before you and humbly ask forgiveness.” It goes on like that for a couple of pages. I’ve written some pretty good apologies to my parents in my day—but nothing comes close to Jennings’ mea culpa to his old man. What could he have done?

    We have two first cousins, James Teed and Jennings Seward, both leaving town about the same time because of debt. Teed returns and is hung for orchestrating his uncle’s murder. Jennings Seward remains out of town. Then, another Seward son, Henry, leaves town mysteriously and possibly in debt, returning to a good job and a bevy of pretty girls. Are any of these men, disappearances and their debts connected, or just coincidence and bad parenting? In 1819 another Seward sibling, Louisa Cornelia, was in ill health, at boarding school in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. Older brother Edwin Polydore Seward was also in school, in New Jersey. Other Seward children, George Washington, Joseph Austin and the baby Emily, were still at home in Florida. An older sister Elizabeth had died as a baby. That makes eight. 

       A few months short of graduating from Union College, Henry fled to Georgia, then returned home a few months later to clerk at Durer and Hoffman. By the time he returned, James Teed and David Dunning had been executed and Conklin and Hodges sent to prison. I hate to break it to Bird, but judging from these letters dated January, February and March of 1819, there’s nothing to indicate that Henry’s disappearance was a plot hatched between father and son. The patriarch, Dr. Samuel S. Seward, had his hands full with trials, hangings and all his childrens' drama, but the Albany letters (at least on the surface) confirm that the doctor was completely in the dark in regard to son Henry’s movements after Christmas 1818. That’s not to say I have the full story yet. Unlike today, evidence in the form of correspondence, could easily be destroyed, or deliberately planted. I may be missing or misreading something.

    In all the Albany letters, I can only find two that mention the murder. “Had a very pleasant visit to New York,” wrote  Edwin Polydore Seward to his father from Bloomfield, New Jersey, “the day after New Years where I first heard the death of Mr. Jennings and the men were in pursuit of Jack.” A few things stand out. He does not call his mother’s brother “uncle Dick,” nor does he use Jack’s last name. “Jack” was obviously well known to the Sewards. Then there’s the timing. Had Polydore met his younger brother Henry and gotten the information from him, but been told not to tell their father? On January 2nd Jack was in custody and Henry’s whereabouts were unknown. On January 5th Doc. Seward wrote Henry’s professor Dr. Thomas McCauley at Union College, pleased that “William [continued] under your direction..” and was kept away from those who would “decoy others into some idle vicious habits.” Henry had gone to college at 15, surrounded by older students. Doc. Seward was concerned about the bad influences of these older teenagers, like Alvah Wilson.

      Then I find a note that throws everything off. In a short missive to his father dated Jan. 17th, from Union College William H. Seward writes, “Mr. (illegible) when I called on him at Albany wished me to inform you that he had requested and obtained a Special Court of Oyer for the County of Orange to be held on the month succeeding the (illegible) of Common Pleas I think on the 23rd of February to try the criminals confined for the Murder of Mr. Jennings.” The date of the court was correct and coincided with the Goshen trials. The back of the letter is marked “Free,” sealed with red wax and “sent” from Schenectady, but not stamped. This puts Henry (or at least the letter) in Schenectady long after he claims in his memoir that he left Union College for New York City. It’s the only piece of evidence I have that directly links William Henry Seward to this family murder narrative. Finally the great statesman acknowledges that the Jennings murder occurred and it fits no timeline that I’ve proposed—except Walter Stahr’s. Was it ever sent or was it a plant? Which leads me right back to the Seward memoir. Why would Henry lie about the date he left Union College?