THAT'S JUST CRAZY

“When the Canadians came across the line to get our property, we had the right to shoot them.”- C.W. Hardenbergh citing the War of 1812, justifying the murder of his uncle.     

   

     This would be just another example (like the Jennings or Osterhout affairs) of real estate and miscommunication infecting related individuals, ending in bloody, sensational murders, were it not for the wider political implications. New York, and these old families, had been around long enough for fortunes to be made, willed to future generations and ultimately lost due to mismanagement and debauchery. Class issues that had been brewing for centuries, were now thrust back to the forefront, as more and more tenant farmers realized they had been duped into a European feudal system controlled by rich absentee landlords like Livingston, the Hardenberghs and Van Rensselaers. The patroons and landlords feared the “rabble” was again stirring. They were right. The murder of the rich Anthony Hasbrouck, although having nothing whatsoever to do with politics, was spun for the cause. 

      As I’ve mentioned, Sullivan County where I live, was named after Maj. Gen. John Sullivan of the Sullivan/Clinton Expedition. Lopped off from Ulster and Orange, the county was a little over thirty years old when C.W. was brought before the court in Monticello on the charge of murder. The local papers noted that there had yet to be an “official hanging” in Sullivan County. It looked like that was all about to change. Sullivan County had been a county in the state of New York since March 27, 1809. It was now 1842. That seems a very long time to go without a hanging in those days. I think the key word here is “official.” Lynchings, as common as horse thievery, were not counted as “official.” 

     Once in custody, the murderer C.W. Hardenbergh couldn’t stop talking. James E. Quinlan, wrote fast, taking it all down. C.W.’s version of the murder and what led up to it, was confessed and described to Quinlan on his many visits to the jail. When asked why he took the law into his own hands, C. W. replied indignantly that he was just following “The law of nature.” He was not repentant. 

    

James E. Quinlan began his newspaper serial with: 

   “He [Hardenbergh] was lying in bed very weak from loss of blood….Being asked if Hasbrouck appeared to be frightened during the struggle, he said, ‘No. He fought like a hero;’ and seemed to admire his [Hasbrouck’s] bravery….He [Hardenbergh] is about 43 years of age, and has not the appearance of being the demon he is- having a somewhat mild, though determined and fearless aspect….The reason he assigns for this infamous act is the insufficiency of the law to reach his controversy with the deceased, and says that he had come to the conclusion to take the law into his own hands.”  

    

    Someone (likely Quinlan) gave Hardenbergh a book on mental health, entitled Deranged Mental Faculties or Outlines of Disordered Mental Action, written by the pioneer of textbook psychology, Thomas C. Upham. After devouring the text, C.W. reasoned that, not only was he insane at the time of the murder, he was “innocent” because of it. This would be his defense. He had been hearing voices since he was six years old. Hardenbergh saw a way out, not through religion— but psychology and the rule of law.

   The murder of the well-to-do Anthony Hasbrouck by a family member was big news in the state and it didn’t take long for the Gov. to get involved. And here’s where my family gets back in the act. In Oct. 1841, New York State Governor William Henry Seward ordered his Atty. Gen. Willis Hall to Judge Charles H. Ruggles' Monticello courtroom, paying him $121.25 to prosecute C.W. Hardenbergh for the murder of his uncle Anthony Hasbrouck. Seward thought the insanity defense ludicrous, ordering his Attorney General to do his best to hang Hardenbergh.

    For the defense we have Herman M. Romeyn, and the son of Martin Van Buren— John Van Buren. Full disclosure. There were two John Van Burens in New York at this time. Both were about the same age and both were lawyers, at times practicing in the Catskills. In 1841 the “other” John Van Buren was a member of the U.S. House of Representatives, while the son of Martin Van Buren was a local practicing attorney, who would never hold elected office.Congressman Van Buren had gone to Union College with both Judge Charles Ruggles and Henry Seward. He was also an Ulster County judge, so there was a close connection by both men to many in Monticello. But, in 1841 Congressman John Van Buren most likely would have been in Washington DC, not working a murder case in a Monticello courtroom. Because so little material survives surrounding this trial it’s difficult to determine just which John Van Buren defended C.W. Hardenbergh at trial in Monticello. I’m going to go out on a limb and say (until proven otherwise) the handsome widower, son of Martin Van Buren, prosecutor of the Calico Indians, John Van Buren, sat at the defense table.  

     Not only are all these issues of class, murder and family involved in the Jennings trial, replicated here, the hot button issue of mental health was also added for spice. Only conspiracy is missing from the mix. C. W. Hardenbergh would readily admit that he acted alone. There was no conspiracy. John Van Buren would concur with his client that he was crazy, and use the uniquely “positive” defense of “not guilty by reason of insanity.” You couldn’t prove sanity in anyone’s actions, but you were required by law to prove “insanity,” in order to use this radical defense. Whichever Van Buren was at the defense table, the Hon. William Henry Seward, sitting in Albany, was paying very close attention to what was transpiring in Judge Ruggles’ Monticello courtroom.